Neutral Ground

Neutral Ground

By Sinopa Rayne

Distributed by Sinopa Rayne on Smashwords

Copywrite 2017 Sinopa Rayne

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author!

Table of Contents

Chapter 1- Sarina’s Triumph

Chapter 2- Chogan’s Trials

Chapter 3- The First Crux

Chapter 4- Laissez le Bon Temps Roulette

Chapter 5- RSVP

Chapter 6- Never Say No

Chapter 7- Setting The Bet

Chapter 8-Meeting The Marked

Chapter 9- Divided We Fall

Chapter 10- Pulling The Trigger

Chapter 11- Rouge Mystique

Chapter 12- The Trouble With Truth

Chapter 13- Spirit Walk

Chapter 14-Sarina’s Journey

Chapter 15-Meditation Mountain

Chapter 16- Thanks-Giving

Chapter 17-Chasing Shadows

Chapter 18- A Moment Of Eternity

Chapter 19- A Swiftly Changing Reality

Chapter 20- The Cost Of Failure

Chapter 21- Son Of The Sun

About the Author

Coming Soon

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History repeats itself. Tzadkiel laughed without humor as the phrase crossed his mind, because if humanity actually knew how much repetition there was, they would never come out of their little hidey-holes. Every 25 years the cycle repeated, but the heroes and villains, well those changed quite a bit, now didn’t they. His mind drifted back through the millennia, touching briefly on some of his favorites, Mark Antony and Julius Caesar, Cain and Able, Hitler and Bonhoeffer. The newest challenge was soon to begin, and Tzadkiel’s heart gives an extra thump. Let the betting begin.

Chapter 1

Sarina’s Triumph

Sarina was exhausted. It had been a long battle getting the information that she needed to stop the wholesale theft of the Crooks Mound Ancient Indian burial site by the Guarder development company, but she had finally succeeded. Although she had been an integral part of the group known as the Monuments Men in many countries, America had so many contradictory laws and regulations, that she really hadn’t thought she would ever be able to navigate them all to save the Crooks Mound site. She grinned to herself as she recalled the derogatory name that the CEO of Guarder had given her in the many emails recovered during the complete wipe of his computer systems.

The Ball-Buster, eh? I like that far too much!

While the fact that his nom de plume for her indicated that he knew her gender made her a little uneasy, she figured she was still mostly safe, after all, half of the population was female! Well the CEO could consider both his balls and his happy day parade officially busted now! Sarina printed out the data sheets that were needed and placed them into the folder to turn it over to the litigating party for the Monuments Men. The Hopewellian people of 100 BCE would be protected in their history, and their ancestors and descendants would remain untouched. She had been contacted on other jobs done for the preservation of ancient artifacts, but most of those were in foreign countries. Unfortunately, the United States was still viewed as an upstart land historically speaking, at least. She was gratified to finally make inroads within the U.S. as difficult as the going had been. Sarina was half Natchez Indian, and sadly, due to the privations throughout history, the Natchez were considered a dead people. The lands that she was protecting were once the sacred tribal lands of the Natchez, so that made it all the more personally fulfilling to protect the mounds that her ancestors had revered against corporate machines like the Guarder Development Company. She was also, however, more than a little grateful that she would only be known as The Ball-Buster, because if Chogan Ravenswing, the CEO of Guarder had known her name or how to get to her, things might have gone very different…very differently indeed.

Sarina packed up her purse, kissed the Sun medallion that graced her neck, and pressed send on the computer to send all the information about Crooks Mound that she had purloined to Richard Simon, her contact in the Monuments Men. The hard copy she took to the copy machine and ran off three copies. One would go to The Vault, a depository of the Monuments Men that tracked successful projects, one would be sent to Richard, and the third would go into her private archives. With a final glance around the trailer in the middle of nowhere, she closed the door and walked to her car. Starting the car, she drove about a hundred feet down the overgrown path, her Subaru forging its own path through some of the muddier parts, and then stopped. Slipping the car in park, she stepped out and faced the trailer one last time before pressing the button on her remote, and sending the trailer sky high in an explosion. Chogan didn’t know who she was, and now, she could remain unknown.

Sarina drove back towards New Orleans, after all, it wasn’t often that a Tennessee native got a paid vacation and chance to party on someone else’s dime. Growing up on the Chickasaw Nation’s tribal lands had not left a lot of time for social development, but Sarina was going to change that as of right now. A grin plastered itself to her face. Job completed, it was time to see how the other half lived, and she had the perfect little red dress to make that particular statement! Her mother briefly passed through her mind, and a more tender expression graced Sarina’s mobile face. She really wished her mother was here to know her daughter’s accomplishments today. Aurora, Sarina’s mother, had been one of the most beautiful women on the territories, but since Aurora was Natchez and wasn’t Chickasaw, most of the local women had looked at her as a second-class citizen. That was probably why Aurora had met and married Donovan McAllen, a local Irish hewn bad boy made hero. Sarina didn’t really remember her dad because he had been killed in the line of duty during operation Desert Storm, but she definitely saw daddy’s stamp all over her face every time she glanced in the mirror. Dark red hair, almost the shade of dried blood marked the mingling of Native American and Irish heritage, and Sarina’s grey eyes completed the exotic picture with the high cheekbones that rich white people paid to get and the blended mocha and cinnamon flavored skin that you could never get from a tanning bed. She definitely was her parent’s child. Sarina cranked the music up on her stereo as From Ashes To New’s Lost and Alone hit the play list, and threw back her head and laughed. It was a semi-short drive to reach New Orleans, so what better time to begin the next adventure than now.

Almost six hours later, Sarina pulled up to the Marriott and made use of the valet parking offered. She didn’t intend that anything should get in the way of her first good time in years, and the road rage she was so close to developing after the drive to get here was definitely not putting her in the best mood. With the Mardi Gras traffic, she was almost ready to pull out her pistol and start firing at the tires of a few hundred of her least favorite non-sign-reading idiots just to get them out of her way, and if one more of those idiots went the wrong way down her current one-way street, she would not be responsible for her actions! Blowing her overly long bangs out of her face, she cheerfully handed her keys to the Valet and with a smile took her ticket.

Thanks, and may you have better luck on these roads than I have had! Sarina said with a grin.

No problem, replied the valet. Let me know if there is anything else I can help you with. He continued with the lightest of a suggestive leer in his warm brown eyes.

Not quite sure how to take his suggestion, she casted a slight grin his way, dropped her shades over her eyes, and proceeded towards the entrance of the hotel. As she started into the building, a large group of drunken and ever so slightly feral businessmen stumbled past the door she pushed open. With shouts of Show me your tits! ringing in her ears, she becomes the proud owner of a brand-new pair of shiny plastic gold beads interspersed with tiny penises. She sidled past the group bottlenecked at the door, and made her way to the check in desk. Showing her valet ticket to the concierge, she checked in and arranged for her bags to be delivered to her room. As she journeyed past other reveling groups towards the elevator, she made note of both the beautiful furnishings and the inviting smell of Starbuck’s coffee. Starbucks really does multiply like breeding rabbits, doesn’t it! After waiting her turn to jump in the elevator, she pressed the button marked 41, she was top floor bound and nothing but the best for her tonight! As she ascended, the elevator slowly emptied until only she and one other man remained. The muzak coming through the loudspeakers was very atypical, and seemed to contain a lot of jazz instruments versus the typical The Girl from Ipanema style muzak. Catching the spirit of Mardi Gras, she found her foot tapping along. Although it was a little different sound than what she normally listened to, it ramped her excitement to the next level…In New Orleans, it was about time to let her hair down, and to paint the town RED!

Chapter 2

Chogan’s Trials

Popping a piece of his grandfather’s handmade jerky in his mouth, he examined the development plans laid out in front of him. He reached in the desk drawer to his right, pulled out a pen and hastily began scribbling new ideas on the paper. His editing red crosses and circles riddled the papers, but his contractors did not have the same vision he had when it came to preserving or demolishing the ancient forests. Who could blame them? They were nothing but American otas with neither historical knowledge of the Natchez Ancients nor visions of a future that could resurrect the past. Still, taking out select portions