Tales of St. Hilda's--Bill Clinton Gets a Visit
By Anonymous5
The Sisters reach out to Bill Clinton

Heathrow Airport, 07:30 AM local time.  

The official and his assistant looked at the screen.  The assistant moved back 
in the room to ring the office and tell them former U.S. President Bill 
Clinton's plane would land momentarily.  This call was one of many being made 
at the same time, each serving a different piece of the bureaucracy within the 
British government.  

At the screen, an equal-ranking official spoke to the first.  "How's payment 
being made this time?" he asked.  "Straight transfer to a Swiss bank account?"

"Heh," the first said.  "I don't know.  Ask Jones in Accounting where it'll be 
the most tax-exempt under the Americans' laws."

"How much stage time is Mr. Blair giving him?"

"However much it takes.  You'd think that for $175,000.00, he'd read the Writs 
of Assistance," the first replied.

"And what about helping with fund-raising afterward......help Tony get some of 
that cash back?"

"Only if he was promised a cut."

"Of course.  Not to mention 'full-figured' perks."  He paused.  "Hey, you 
think we could have paid him in pussy?"

"You kidding?!  He'd get here ahead of the bluddy Concord!" the first said.

They had been keeping their voices low.  But now a couple of assistants' eyes 
turned toward their direction, indicating that there were non-secured ears in 
attendance.  As if it was anything they hadn't heard before.  But, as amusing 
as the subject matter was, it was also some of the oldest in all the Isles.  
The pair drifted off the topic while staring blankly out the window at the 
runway that would be occupied in a short while.

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Borchester, 07:50 AM

Sisters Diana, Amanda and Nora, having come into town to record some video 
footage Bertie had wanted to put on the website, exited the office of the 
Bryington & Sons Construction Company.  

"That's rather disappointing," said Sister Nora.  

"It looks like we'll just have to improvise," said Sister Amanda, "and move 
the stones ourselves.  A couple of junked truck chassis or the like will fit 
the bill.  And, depending on who wants to volunteer to push them from here to 
Wales, load them up, and back, the only obstacle would be an onerous, long 
walk."

"And speaking of onerous...." Sister Diana said, as they reached the outer 
gate of the yard, to find the exit blocked by a truck and trailer loaded with 
a few tons of bricks.  They wouldn't be able to exit the gate, not even 
single file on their bicycles.

Sister Nora spied a company employee with 'Robert' on his shirt, standing 
next to the driver's side of the truck, taking a few quick puffs on a 
cigarette.  "Excuse us, Robert, but would you mind moving this load to let us 
pass?" she said.

The man got a worried look on his face.  He knew who he was talking to.  
"Uh,...I'd like to, Sisters, but....." his voice cracked and then became very 
low. "The.....driver took the keys with him.  This truck is due to serve 
'official business' as soon as we unload, and he's kind of uptight about 
making sure nobody runs off with it.  I.....think he'll be back in a few 
minutes."

Sister Nora walked right up to him.  "And you don't have a spare set?" she 
asked almost neutrally, stepping closer and sandwiching him between her 
massive bosom and the truck.  Robert shook his head.  "And you can't run and   
get a spare set?"  He, fighting the urge to cower, shook his head again, as if 
he had just done something terrible for being so unable to fix their 
situation.  "Well, then," she said, as the other Sisters flanked her, "What 
can we do to fix this?"

Sister Diana pointed further into the yard.  "There's space over there.  Would 
it be okay if it was moved over there?" she asked.

"Oh, uh,.....Yes, ma'am!"

"All right then," she said.  "Get in and steer."

Robert was instantly relieved that he could help fix things and not incur 
their wrath.  He jumped up into the cab to the driver's seat. 

Sister Diana said to Sister Nora, "Go get all of the bikes and wait for us by 
the gate."  Then she and Sister Amanda took position on opposite sides of the 
truck's rear bumper.  "Put it in neutral!" Sister Diana called to the cab.  
Robert waved in compliance out the window.

The truck was a heavy-hauler, weighing about 20,000 pounds, pulling about 
10,000 pounds on its trailer.  The thought of pushing it out of the way would 
be daunting for a great many people.  But for the Sisters of St. Hilda's,  
gifted by the effects of the muscle-growing Septadecaherbis mixture, and their 
eight hours of strenuous prayer-and-exercise sessions every day, no mere load 
as this would be a credible obstacle.  
Sisters Diana and Amanda braced against it, and pushed.  The truck and trailer 
yielded, and rolled up inside the yard, far clear of the gate.  
Robert stepped down out of the truck as soon as he set the brake, and looked 
over the tens of meters they had just covered with it.

"Thank you, sir." Sister Diana told him.

"Yes, mu'um - happy to be of assistance."

"I hope we can count on you being in church on Sunday." said Sister Amanda.

"Yes, ma'am!  I'll be there!"

"Now, Robert," she said, almost threatening to take a step toward him, "don't 
tell us what we want to hear.  Tell us the truth."

"Yes-ma'am.  I WILL be there."

"That makes us so glad," she said with a friendly smile, as she and Sister 
Diana joined Sister Nora at the gate.
  
As they got on their bikes to leave, Sister Diana said, "There might be 
another place to find some trucks.  This way."  And she led off.

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------------------
09:30

The Sisters arrived at the South Quarter Garage.

"I thought they only did repairs here," said Sister Nora.

"Yes, but they also have a couple of flat-beds, for carrying rather than 
towing cars."

Inside, a man in grungy mechanics overalls was walking between an automobile 
engine mounted on an engine stand, and an over-cluttered workbench.

Sister Diana, walking at the front, was the first to speak.  "Good morning, 
Joe.  I wonder if we could have a few moments of your time."

He didn't answer, but just walked over to the workbench, getting a socket for 
his ratchet, and walked back over to the engine.

"Be 'appy to, Sisters!" Joe said, as he commenced loosening a few bolts on the 
top of the engine.

"What type is that, Joe?" asked Sister Amanda.

"A V-10, wi' a whole litter o' carburetors, Sister.  As y'can see, the 
geniuses 'oo delivered it set it up as inconveniently as possible.  Sometimes 
I think they do that just to bugger me."

"Why didn't they put it on the wheeled stand?" she asked.

"Would've required too much brain power from'em, mu'um."  He spread a somewhat 
clean tarp over the engine, and set the freshly-removed carburetor aside, to 
disassemble later.  "Now," he said, "what can I do for you?"

"We just happened to be in town," said Sister Diana.  "And the Sisters are 
constructing a stone wall on one side of St. Hilda's. We have the raw material 
over in Wales, but we don't have the means to transport it to the nunnery.  We 
inquired at 'the Brys'' about some trucks and drivers, but apparently they're 
all reserved - 'OFFICIALLY' reserved - and off limits.  We were hoping you 
could help us out."

"Y'won't get any further than that, mu'um.  They 'commandeered' our trucks 
too, t'use for blocking off avenues around the Grange, for the American's 
visit."

"Which American?" asked Sister Diana.

"Former President Bill Clinton, no less." Joe said a little sarcastic-
dramatically.  

"You don't say."

"Shore enough.  'E's arriving in England early today to speak on be'alf o' 
Blair's economic policies.  The interestin' thing is, though, 'e'll be 
stoppin' in our town first, to stay overnight.  Somethin' about seein' the 
countryside, meeting the people, rot like that.  The news said 'e'd be stayin' 
at the Grange."

"We haven't seen any bulletins," said Sister Nora.  "But of course, we pay 
very little attention to what's happening in the world outside the nunnery."

The Sisters all looked at each other, seeing the (further) disadvantages of 
that practice.

"Oh!  An' y'know what's golden 'ere, Sisters?"  He gave them a moment to give 
him their attention.  "Like I said, this is Clinton's first stop in his 
journey.  And - I 'eard this from a friend 'oo works at the airline - 'e's 
only got staffers, bodyguards an' other 'essential' personnel wi' 'im.  No 
harlots or tramps in the bunch.  Any o'those, 'e'll have to get'um local."

"You think he'll try?" asked Sister Amanda.

"Given that the bulk o' the press corps is stayin' in London, there'll be 
fewer eyes on'im; so y'KNOW 'e'll be playin' th'field."  He said, holding back 
the humor he felt at the question, NOT wanting to make her feel like she was 
on the receiving end of any ridicule, not wanting to get her perturbed.

"Oh," said Sister Diana.  "In that case, we've got work to do...."

She looked at the other Sisters and they all nodded to each other.

"But how will we get close to him?" asked Sister Amanda.  "He'll have a crowd 
of people with him wherever he goes."

"That's right," said Sister Diana.  "So we would have to do it when he's 
alone,.....At the Grange.  We'll need your help for that, Joe."

"'Ere now, what's that?" he asked.

"We'll be paying a visit to Mr. Clinton at the Grange," she said.

"Why?"

"To do our duty, of course," said Sister Amanda.

"So we'll need transport," said Sister Diana.

"Beggin' yer pardon, mu'um," he said to Sister Diana, "but if yer meanin' to 
counsel'im, why should y'even bother?"

"Meaning what?" she asked.

"Well, mu'um, just look at what 'e's done.  Best to find people wi'some piece 
o'decency left in'em, than to spend y'self on someone 'oo's spent so much time 
lyin' an' stealin' an' debauchin' an' draggin' th'name o'decency through the 
dirt.  There's nothing the man's touched that 'e 'asn't soiled.  'E went 
before a High Court o' 'is OWN COUNTRY, took an oath t'speak truthf'lly, an' 
blatantly lied.  'E sold out 'is own country to get payoffs from Communist 
China......"  That last point was significant, since Joe had taken an oath to 
be true to his own country years ago when he was in the military, and was very 
fervent about loyalty and honor.  "You can't save a man like that with 
righteousness, Sister, you can only FIGHT'IM wi' it."

"Why, Joe, I'm surprised at you.  Whatever someone else does, does that mean 
we let it keep us from our duty?"

"No, mu'um.  It's just that, look at what 'e's done, and,...."

"And what, Joe?"

"Well, 'e's done some pretty right wicked deeds."

"HE has done such things, Joe.  HE has.  But does that mean that we let 
something that someone else has done stop us from doing our duty to God?  The 
greater the sinner, the greater the salvation, Joe.  And the greater the 
victory for the Lord."

"Yes, mu'um, I see what yer sayin'.  And shore as I'm not too proud o' what 
I'M sayin'.  It 'urts, but I just 'afta say that 'e doesn't deserve ...... 
saving ...... in any form, mu'um.  I'm tempted to say, 'don't bother,' not 
'cuz it can't be done, but just shouldn't.  Let Judgement deal wi' 'im as 
'e's earned."

"That's right, Joe.  We could say that, and do you know what we would be 
doing?"

He shook his head.

"We would be deciding to cut someone off from salvation through our Lord Jesus 
Christ.  Is there any greater crime than that, Joe?"

"N...no, Sister," he said, slightly ashamed.  ".......But, 'e'll brush y'off; 
not give a whit or bother about some bible-thumpers come to tell'im what's 
right.  How'll you get'im-?"  Joe broke off, suddenly remembering who he was 
talking to.

But in answer to the rest of his question, 'How will you even get him to give 
you the time of day,' Sister Diana turned to the engine, took hold fore and 
aft, and lifted it up, stand and all, and carried it over to the workbench.  
She set it down and smoothed her habit and said, "Persuasion, Joe."

Joe looked at the other Sisters, who smiled wryly.

"Fortunately, Joe, we're doing Mr. Clinton the favor of not waiting for an 
invitation."

"But how'll you take the service to'im in th'first place, mu'um?"

"By predicting the actions of such a man as you just described."

Joe considered that.  Clinton's reputation made him easy to anticipate.

"Ah."

"Now, Joe," said Sister Diana, "we're going to go back to the nunnery and 
change-"

"Er, 'change'?"

"Into full habits -- full 'nun uniform'.  We'll be back later.  While we're 
gone, we'll need you to do a few things."

"Yes?"

-------------------
-------------------
South Quarter Garage, 7:30 PM

Joe hung up the phone.  "They're on the move," he said.  "Some well-heeled 
sods just left Borchester Grange, through the rear of the grounds.   They're 
in a government car and're headin' for th'business district."

The Sisters stepped off of the garage porch and filed into Joe's car.  Joe 
made another call, this one to Bertie, and then joined the Sisters.  He pulled 
out of the lot and drove them toward the Grange.  The risky variable of this 
scenario depended on the 'others' getting there in time, along with the 
Sisters, to greet that car when it returned.
But such strategizing was necessary, in order to see Mr. Clinton alone, so 
they wouldn't have to deal with his security force.
The bodyguards had the potential to be the worst impediment, just because of 
their dedication to duty.  They were sworn to protect the man with their 
lives, and would draw in a fraction of a second and fire on any threatening 
individual and ask questions later.  Even if that individual was a nun.  
The Sisters of St. Hilda's had been facing weapons all during their history, 
from the raids of murderous buccaneers at the time of the Crusades, to the 
Nazis in World War II.  
In the former, unable to have the "knights in shining armor" ride to their 
rescue (almost all the fighting men had gone to the Holy Land), they 
improvised by dropping and rolling massive logs on their foes when they 
attacked the convent.  They compensated for blade weapons with brute force, 
luring enemies into cellars and other confined spaces where hand-held weapons 
were impractical, and anyone who tried to use one was at a disadvantage 
against strong arms and bare knuckles.  They even swam up to raiders' anchored 
vessels, attached heavy-gauge rope, and literally pulled the Corsairs up close 
to docks and into coves during the nights' high tides, where they were left 
high and stranded at dawn.  
In the latter, they took duty in bomb shelters, and finding and diffusing 
unexploded aerial bombs.  They strung anti-submarine nets around coastal 
inlets.  They also guarded those inlets; and on occasion met some Krauts 
sneaking ashore from stealth craft.  They faced firearms, camouflaged cyanide 
pens, sleeve daggers, and combat arts.
Just because weapons were different in this day and age, that did not make 
them any less deadly.  And just because those Secret Service agents lacked raw 
power, they had combat training that made them deadly as well.  No, the 
bodyguards had to be circumnavigated altogether.
But Clinton was going to help them with that.

-----------------
-----------------
Borchester Grange, 8:45 PM

The driver - the security agent - was taking the route in the rear of the 
grounds, a bimbo riding in the back with the secretary-assistant.  They were 
approaching the rear of the building and the entrance to the underground 
parking garage.  The driver hit the brakes as a horde of reporters and cameras 
came into view.
Swearing, the secretary told the girl to duck down and huddle up on the floor.  
She was wearing an outfit that leant itself heavily toward red.  He opened his 
briefcase on the seat above her, using the lid to obscure her, and draped his 
overcoat over the back of the front seat, hiding her under it all the more.
The agent was inching the car through the crowd, when the crowd parted, and 
standing between the car and the gate were three nuns (NUNS(!) of all things).  
The closest approached the driver's door.

"Good evening, sirs," Sister Diana said with courtesy as the window lowered.  
"We have come to speak the Word of God to our honored guest."

The agent and secretary were caught totally flat-footed.  "Uhm,....." 
stuttered the secretary from in back, "this might not be the best time, 
Sister."

"But, sir," Sister Diana said in a firm but good-natured tone, "he will be 
leaving tomorrow.  And from the news coverage, we know that he has no 
spiritual advisors with him from the States."  She then spoke loudly enough 
to be heard by all.  "You wouldn't want him to go without spiritual comfort, 
would you?"

The agent and secretary looked at the throng of reporters surrounding the car, 
flashbulbs a'poppin'.  The secretary leaned close to the agent and hurriedly 
whispered, "Keep the slut in the car, and drive her out when the coast is 
clear."  Then he got out, motioned the gate to be opened wider, and invited 
the Sisters in with a sweep of his hand.  "This way, please," he said.  The 
car drove in ahead of them. 

As they started following him in, he took out a cell phone, dialed and spoke 
into it.  "Blankenship here," he said.  "We have a surprise visit from some 
Good Sisters to speak to our esteemed guest.  We'll be passing through the 
garage security station in a minute.  You'll see us on the cameras.  Pass the 
word so Mr. Clinton can prepare."  He had almost said, 'can get his clothes 
back on.'

They went over each of the Sisters with a metal detector.  It detected nothing 
but their Crucifixes.  Of course, their powerful physiques would have been 
seen as dangerous, but their full habits covered them up sufficiently. 
A short while later, Blankenship led them from an elevator down a long 
corridor.  There were two bodyguards posted at the door of the suite at the 
end of the hall. 

He said to the Sisters, "Now don't be tense or nervous or anything.  He's a 
real 'people person'."

He opened the door to admit them, the Sisters sizing up the bodyguards as they 
entered.  And then they caught sight of the 'man of the hour'-- Mr. Clinton.  
He was sitting at a desk, wearing reading glasses, pouring over documents in 
some folder.  
Mr. Clinton greeted them with a warm smile and handshake, and invited them to 
sit down.  When their backs were to him, he gave Blankenship a look.  
Blankenship tried to quietly indicate that-!  But he was cut off. 

"Thank you." Mr. Clinton said.  And Blankenship exited.

Seating himself on the couch opposite the Sisters, Mr. Clinton asked, "What 
can I do for you this evening, ladies?" quite cordially.

"Oh, Mr. Clinton, it's not what you can do for us that brings us here 
tonight," said Sister Diana.  "It's what we can do for you, as we do for 
anyone and everyone -- namely, to talk to you about God."

"Yes," said Sister Nora.  "and the importance of Christian living."  Then she 
added, "It's the only way to live."

"After all, there's no way to truly describe how much God loves each and every 
one of us, and wants the best for us.  And therefore the best way to live your 
life is one which serves Him, and brings glory to Him, because of all He is 
and all He does," said Sister Amanda.

Clinton spoke up.  "Oh, well, I certainly appreciate that, Sisters," he said.  
"Yes sir, every time my daughter had time from her academics, she, my wife and 
I all tried to make it to church as a family, even when I was President." 

"We're glad to hear that, sir," said Sister Diana.  "In fact, we would like to 
invite you to attend Services with us this evening, at one of our own local 
chapels.  The topics covered include not dwelling on badness or misdeeds in 
your past, and taking action in the present, to live in a way that is pleasing 
to God."
 
Clinton only smiled.  "Thank you for the invitation.  I'd like to; but, I have 
too much to do here," he said.  "But, I want to assure you that, I deeply 
appreciate your coming by to make that invitation.  If you'll excuse me, I 
really have matters to attend to before tomorrow."

"But, Mr. Clinton, all of us, especially leaders, need the guidance of God," 
said Sister Diana.

"Of course, of course," he said.  "But when you have a lot to do, you have to 
do good in your own way in the time that you have to do it in."  His words 
were almost polished.  

But Sister Nora jumped in.  "And the best way to do good is to follow the Word 
of God.  That's why we're inviting you.  To have the Gospel shared with you, 
to hear His Word, since it's in the best interest of anyone - again, 
especially leaders - to have His guidance."

Again with the reassuring smile, the easy tone, the manner that went along 
with what he was saying, he tried to end the meeting.  "Now I know that when 
we have things we have to do, we don't want to beat around the bush, making 
lesser efforts because we want to attain the chief goal right away.  But we 
can't bite off more than we can chew -- we need to take what we can get, often 
doing only what we can, and although that doesn't give us our chief goal, it 
does carry us one step closer to that goal.  Everything goes one step at a 
time."

Sister Diana was afraid she would have to atone for the non-printable thoughts 
she was having, in response to what he was shoveling. 

He continued.  "And as things happen, and we get closer to that goal, we can 
sometimes become distracted and lose sight because of the effort we are 
taking, and the strain of that effort.  And I know that God wants things for 
us, but how can we interpret God's will?  I am reminded of the passage of 
scripture which states, 'Who has known the mind of the Lord, and who has been 
His council?'...We can't distract ourselves from our goals and objectives with 
interpretations that we are not empowered to make.  I'm sure that I can make 
my goal happen, with the Grace of God."

'We've seen your goals,' thought Sister Diana.

Clinton kept on, saying, "And although I regret having stumbled and fallen - I 
certainly regret it - I can't let myself get bogged down in regret of the past 
- as you mentioned, not dwell on things done in the past - since the past is 
behind and cannot be changed.  Of course I realize my mistakes, and of course 
I am guarding against falling victim to such temptation and tendencies again.  
And I DO...SINCERELY...appreciate your concern for my spiritual well-being and 
The Faith, and you have given me more spiritual uplift than I have had in a 
long time, coming here and talking to me, as you have tonight.  And I very 
much appreciate it."  He sat slightly stooped with an air of (rehearsed) 
sincerity.  "And now I'll have one of the staff show you out, God bless you, 
and ..."

It was not often that a dismissal could be so well dressed and polished.  No 
wonder he had gotten away with so much.  A master bu*l*hit*er indeed.   
'There's another thought to atone for,' thought Sister Diana.  She was not 
alone.

"Oh, but Mr. Clinton," Sister Diana said, "what people sometimes fail to 
realize is the need to attend Services, to hear the word of God, for their own 
good.  Sometimes they forget how much they need it.  You're not Catholic, are 
you?"  

"No," he said. "But-."

"Fine, then," she said.  "We'll go to a Protestant church."

"But I really do have too much to do," he said in a dismissing tone, trying to 
get them out of there.  "And so, I must respectfully decline-"  

"But, Mr. Clinton," said Sister Amanda.  "Sometimes we fall into the trap of 
putting ourselves before God.  You wouldn't consider yourself greater than 
God, would you?"

"Of course not," he said, smiling.

"Then the greatest thing we can do with our life is not to attempt to serve 
ourselves with it, but do our best to serve Him.  Don't you agree?"

Clinton took a moment to close his eyes, as if some truth were coming to him.  
"Yes," he said, quite reverently.

Sister Diana stood, the other Sisters joining her.  Clinton stood with them.  
Sister Diana reached forward to clasp his hand.  Politely, he took her hand.

"Oh, excellent." She said.

He smiled and returned the handshake. 

Then she tightened her grip and jerked him close to her, so their faces were 
almost touching.  "But I don't believe you," she whispered.

Sister Amanda suddenly grabbed him around the head, clamping her hand over his 
mouth.  Sister Nora grabbed him around his other arm.  They effectively pinned 
him between them, immobilizing him.

Sister Diana whispered to him, "Due to your past conduct, I have to conclude 
that all you wish to serve is yourself."

Sister Amanda kept her hand on his mouth while Sister Diana commenced undoing 
his trousers, and Sister Nora slipped off his jacket and shirt.  

Sister Diana said, still whispering, "That must mean you are out of touch with 
the glory and the necessity to serve God."

They were fast but gentle, not even popping off any buttons, to keep it as 
quiet as possible, and guard against hidden microphones in the room, as Joe 
had advised.
Sister Diana produced a thin white cord, looped on one end, from her habit 
after pulling his boxers down a little.  She closed the loop end over his 
testicles, and tightened it a little, snugging it.  She passed the cord 
between his legs, to Sister Nora, and pulled his underwear and pants back up.

As she re-fastened his trousers, she quietly said, "You need to learn about 
His Love, so that you can better serve Him, and better live."
  
Sister Nora pulled the cord firmly up his buttcrack, getting a squeak and a 
flinch from him.  She and Sister Diana then put his shirt back on, running the 
cord up inside the shirt and out through the left sleeve.  They then put his 
jacket back on him, with the cord hanging out the cuff.
Sister Amanda, still holding him secure, turned him to face the fireplace. 
 
Sister Diana took the cord, showing it to him in her hand, and whispered, 
"Don't make any sudden movements."

Sister Nora walked up to the fireplace and took the pokers propped up beside 
the hearth.  She walked back to the others and told Clinton, "Pay close 
attention."  

She pushed the sleeves of her habit up, exposing her gargantuan-muscular arms.  
His eyes went wide, with more fear than awe, as she flexed, and coils of iron 
erupted in a writhing mass beneath the skin surface.  Sister Nora took two of 
the pokers and twisted them, in front of his eyes, into the shape of a double-
shaft pretzel.  His eyes went glassy.
Laying the pretzel aside, she gave the third poker to Sister Diana, who 
wrapped the cord several turns around it.  Sister Diana then bent the poker 
around Sister Nora's braced right arm, anchoring the cord to it.  Sister Nora 
then took up the slack, wrapping the cord around her wrist and hand, drawing 
hers and Clinton's hands together.  
The cord was so tight around her hand that any movement from her would give a 
pull on it.  She securely took hold of his left hand in her right.  It didn't 
matter that he didn't hold her hand in return -- he would have better luck 
pulling away from a monster truck during the Outlaw Nationals.

Sister Nora whispered to him, "The only way we're going to be separated, is 
for your testicles to become detached from your body.  Understand?"

He didn't give any answer.  He looked shocked, as if he couldn't believe this 
was happening.  Sister Amanda was still holding his mouth shut.

Sister Nora gave a light tug on the cord.  "Understand?" she whispered.

Clinton gave a muted yelp and made an "mm-hm" sound. 

"Now then," Sister Diana said in a normal tone of voice, "would you like to 
come to Services this evening?"

Sister Amanda let go of his mouth.  Sister Nora curled her wrist, applying 
pressure.

"Yes!" he said. 

"Good."  Lowering her voice again, she said, "You'd better get on your 'game 
face', or else your protectors will be forced to push us away from you, and 
your nuts will go with us."

Clinton wavered, looking like he was about to pass out.

Sister Diana lightly shook his shoulders.  "Hey," she said quietly. "Do you 
understand?"

Clinton was very scared.  Also a little green.  Sister Amanda held him firmly 
to keep him from collapsing.

'When people of no courage or character meet strength of spirit or form, they 
naturally shrink', thought Sister Diana. 

Sister Nora began to curl her wrist. 

Clinton came to his senses and nodded.

Sister Diana reiterated, whispering, "Your nuts will go with us."  Then she 
spoke in a more normal tone of voice.  "Good," she said.  "Now, we're going 
down to the garage, taking one of your cars, and the driver can go where we 
tell you."

"Let me......call the..." Clinton started to say.

"No." Sister Diana interrupted.  "Walk us out of here.  Call for the suit-boy 
who brought us in here.  And don't stop until we reach the car."

"The...The guys," he blurted, "will have to ride with me."

"That's fine," Sister Diana said.  "I will ride with you and Sister Nora," she 
said as she patted Sister Nora on the restraining arm, "in one car.  Sister 
Amanda will ride in another.  Now, go on.  There's the phone.  Call 
Blankenship, and tell him we're on our way to the garage."

There was just a slight surprise that crept through the place as Mr. Clinton 
emerged with the Sisters and walked through the building towards the garage.  
He told one of the agents the situation, not stopping except to board the 
elevator.  Amid protests, he insisted, and said to, "get a couple of the boys 
together," and to, "get Blankenship over here."

The boys were caught unawares, seeing as how the original 'errand car' was 
still 'occupied' by at least one person.  Two bodyguards were hurriedly 
summoned, and the keys for another couple of cars were quickly rounded up.  A 
whispered report indicated that the reporters were still out next to the 
fences.  Some in the bunch were speaking on camera, saying how "some nuns" had 
just been let in, "to meet with the former United States President."
The next car was brought around. One agent had to get out to make room for 
Sisters Diana and Nora.
Clinton was affable; very nearly his normal jovial self.  He could put on 
quite an act.  Sister Nora let some slack slip out on the cord, so he could 
sit comfortably.
Blankenship was able to get himself in the same car as Clinton, riding up 
front between two agents.  Clinton sat in the back in between the Sisters.  
As they exited the garage, Sister Diana watched the headlights of the second 
car behind them--carrying Sister Amanda and a couple more agents.
Sister Diana told Clinton where they were going, as easily and pleasantly as 
could be.  And Clinton relayed the instructions to Blankenship, and then HE 
would pass those instructions on to the driver who was sitting right beside 
him.  

'Must be the bureaucratic machine at work', thought Sister Diana.
-----------------
-----------------
They had no problem getting out right at the door of the church.  The 
bodyguards took forward, rear and flanking positions around Clinton.

"We would really appreciate it if we could sit alone with you up at the front 
of the sanctuary," said Sister Nora, nearly bubbly.

"How much room can you give us?" Clinton asked an agent.

"With this many people?.....We can sit about midway back."

"Good," Clinton said.  "Do it."

While the Sisters escorted Clinton up to one of the front pews, the bodyguards 
positioned themselves beside the doorways and best vantage points in the 
sanctuary.
Clinton sat in between Sisters Nora and Diana again, with Sister Amanda on the 
end.
As soon as no one else could see his face, his fear started to show itself.

Sister Diana asked him, "Do you know what to do right now?"

He shook his head.

"Good.  Don't do anything.  Just listen as the Word is spoken to you."

The preacher walked in and welcomed the congregation.  He visibly noted the 
isolated group at the front, but said nothing.  After the preamble of upcoming 
events, he started his sermon; the topic covered involved forgiveness of sins.  

"Friends," he started.  "I would like to talk to you about a matter that  
touches all of us.  I'm sure everyone has heard the phrase, 'For God so loved 
the world that He gave His only begotten Son,...'  How often do we think about 
the significance of those words?  'So loved the world', it says, 'that He gave 
His only begotten Son'.  What is the significance that He gave His only 
begotten Son?......For US?
Jesus suffered and died on the Cross, so that we would live; so that we would 
not have death, but would have eternal life." 

Clinton wasn't thinking about going anywhere.  There was nothing that occurred 
to him right now, except the danger sitting on either side of him.  But he 
wasn't thinking of escape.  He was not thinking at all, so great was the 
Sisters' control of the situation.

Sister Nora glanced at Clinton and noticed how sickly pale he was with fear.  
She placed both hands over his, and leaned up cozily against him.  She said 
warmly, "Why are you so scared?"  She waited until he looked her in the eye.  
"Do you not see by the goodness that is presented to you, that it is why we 
brought you here?  Can you not see, therefore, that we are here for your 
benefit, and cannot be a threat to you?  Can you not see that this grip that 
holds you, is here to help you?..... Can you not see that WE are here to help 
you?  Can you not see that we will let nothing happen to you, that you are in 
our protection, as we are agents of God?"  She added the last with emphasis.  
"Now don't worry," she said, stroking his cheek, "and don't think - as you 
don't need to - and listen to the sermon."

Clinton was too blown away to hold onto a thought.  And just as he was told, 
he stopped thinking.  All he could do was listen to the Scripture. 
Without his usual thoughts to get in the way, he naturally perceived the 
sermon.  
Without his knowing it, he started understanding the message as it moved into 
forgiveness of sins.    

"Follow God's Word.  For it is from God's Word that we know of His Love.  And 
there is no greater power than His Love," the preacher said.  "According to 
The Word, we know that God...gave us forgiveness.  Be willing to forgive 
yourself, since He gave His Son, out of His love for you, to forgive you." 

The pastor went into further depth.  Despite himself, Clinton was touched by 
the words.  This was being spoken to him, for him.  And he was here because 
the Sisters had grabbed him and brought him here to give it to him.
In normal circumstances, he would be thinking of this as something that would 
get in the way of what he would rather do.  He would have the temptation to 
get away from it, for fear of being kept from something else, something 
more..... gratifying.  If he were in his proper form, he would be filled with 
the feeling that all he wanted to do was get away from this proceeding.
Such feelings of not taking it in - thinking there was nothing here for him - 
were blown away because he was so far in the control of the Sisters, whose 
purpose was to GIVE IT TO HIM.
Astonishingly, he felt some kind of goodness at that;..... appreciation.  
Where was THAT coming from?  
The thoughts left his head, were replaced again by perception of the sermon, 
as Sister Nora adjusted her grip on him. 
And so it went like that throughout the sermon -- Clinton being like a child 
in his openness to the words, thanks to the state of mind the Sisters had put 
in him.

The preacher continued.  "HE saved us through that love.  Therefore, we serve 
Him in the name of that love.  There is no greater thing we can do in this 
life than to serve Him, and make known His glory through His works in us."  He 
paused.  "How are we to serve Him, you might ask.  He gives us the criteria, 
in the Scripture, for serving Him. And, as it says in the Bible, all of the 
Gospel - all of the Word - is from the mouth of God, and therefore all is 
applicable for guidance, advice, council, and all of our needs.  We serve God 
by conducting ourselves in accordance with that Word."  
He paused again.  "Remember that God DOES forgive us, because the same 
Scripture that tells us of God's Love, says so. . . . The same love, by which 
He saved us."  
And he went more into reassurance.  "Since God is so dedicated, and so 
wonderful for our salvation, never think that you are alone, or without Him.  
He was saving us long before He ever put us on this earth.  
So, since He is so dedicated to us for our salvation, we know we can trust Him 
in all matters, with all our hearts, with anything in our life.  So let us ask 
- don't be afraid to ask for the best - for Him to move in our lives, and 
trust Him, to make things happen that could only be the greatest for you, and 
could only come from His great power.  And just as God gives us all this, go 
to Him in the love He has for us and ask Him directly for guidance, giving 
praise for the fact that He is with us wherever we go."

The preacher went into more detail on the importance of turning to God instead 
of continually looking back at one's past deeds, or anything in the past.  
Something started to occur to Clinton, not thinking but just listening: It 
wasn't his past that was important.  What was important was that salvation 
came through God.  (He was taking in quite a lot in his current mental state.)  
And what mattered was not holding on to the regret of your past, but coming to 
salvation in God -- being welcomed, and wanted, through His Love in Jesus 
Christ.

The preacher had good 'staying power' -- he was a strong speaker all 
through the service.  He finished up with, "Finally, my friends, someone who 
speaks to others about God, does not do so for condemnation, but for love, so 
that others can come to God in that love, and have eternal life through Jesus 
Christ.  So, don't discount the Word just because it comes from an unlikely 
source; give that source credit, as God has given them the Gospel to share."

----------------- 
-----------------

Eventually, or quite quickly it seemed, the sermon was over.  
The Sisters stood up with Clinton, and they all walked out with the 
bodyguards.
No words were passed as they took the same seating arrangement in the cars.

On the way back to the Grange, Sister Amanda asked the agents in her car, "So, 
what did you think of the service?"

"Oh, pretty good," one of them said.  "Although I was paying more attention to 
our surroundings than the pulpit."

"Me too," the other said.

".... Did you not understand the message?" Sister Amanda asked, concerned.

"No, Sister, it wasn't that.  Ours is a 24-hour vigil.  We stay on alert at 
all times."

"But you could have relaxed a little.  Mr. Clinton wasn't in any danger -- WE 
were with him."

"Well, yes, Sister," the driver said.  "But not all threats would respect 
that.  Those are the threats that we have to guard against."

"Ah......" she replied.  "Your dedication is admirable.  I'll be sure to pray 
for each of you."

"Oh.  Thank you, Sister."

In the other car, Clinton wasn't saying anything, still behaving.  In the back 
seat, the Sisters spoke quietly to him.

"I think that was a good service.  Don't you?" asked Sister Diana.

Clinton nodded.

"Now then.  You know that God loves you.  You have seen that you should seek a 
Godly life, out of the love He has for you, and that living to please Him is 
what is worth living for."  She paused.  "......And that you can forget and 
abandon your past, and do what is good in the present. The next step IN the 
present is up to you."

The rest of the trip back went in relative silence.  The Sisters asked to be 
let off at the gate.  While the orders were being given from Sister Diana to 
Clinton to Blankenship to the driver, Sister Nora let some slack out on the 
cord.  She wound it around both hands, and quietly snapped it.

She said to Clinton, "I'll let YOU remove the rest."

As the cars drove in the gate, the Sisters departed on foot.  Clinton stared 
after them as they left.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------
--
Epilogue:
St. Hilda's, 04:30 AM the next day

Sister Diana gave her report to Mother Mary Rose on the previous night's 
events.

Sister Diana didn't dress it up.  "This was someone who could take retaliatory 
action against us; use his connections - and they are good connections - to 
'get back at us' in some way -- in some....evil, or threatening way."

The Mater wasn't fazed.  "And to have not done the service, for fear of 
retaliation?" she asked.

"Would have been a violation of our most sacred oath and trust," said Sister 
Diana.

"So now?" the Mater asked.

"Now that he's moved on, we can only let him turn to what he'll turn to," 
Sister Diana said.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------
--
Epilogue:
London, a grossly overpriced, 'upper-class-only' hotel

Clinton paced back and forth in his suite.  He had hardly talked to anyone 
after last night, except for basic conversation.  He was secure now, but what 
to do?  He was certainly free to start working on revenge.
But why was he not wanting to?  
They hadn't even mentioned staying quiet or not pressing charges or anything.  
They didn't need to.  After all, who'd admit to being roughed up by a bunch of 
nuns?  The humiliation would be too great to ever live down.
That left the media out.  What about legal means?  The media would still find 
out.  What would he do, submit his 'bruised-around-the-root' nuts as evidence?   
What about illegal?  If anything happened to any one of them, others of them 
would most likely talk.  Anything said would come down to his credibility 
against theirs -- and he didn't have any.  And the media would still find out.
He sat down at the desk.
He had been in the company of people who were genuinely good, who he wasn't 
trying to take advantage of (the ability to take any advantage had been taken 
out of his hands), who he didn't have to worry about doing to him what he had 
done to so many others in this life.  He couldn't remember the last time he 
had anything like that.
And their goodness was directed at HIM.
When someone is bad, the first thing you think of is not usually to give them 
something good.  But they had given him something good.
And as bad as he was, it didn't stop them from giving it to him.  He had to 
think for a moment to realize he was feeling appreciation to them for that.  
They had done for him as he would not have done for others.      
The thought actually made him feel low.  He thought about the type of person 
he was and felt lower still.  But (he was almost afraid to admit it to 
himself), there was a better way to be, as they had shown him.  And it was 
.....very attainable.  And they had shown it to him BECAUSE it was good.  
The thought of being better warred with the person he was.
And he knew that for more of that goodness, it would be easy enough to contact 
them, or others who could give strength and guidance through their own 
conviction in the Faith.  Without the strength of that conviction in his life 
(even if it was being led by someone else), what would become of him?  How low 
had he come?

The intercom BUZZED, snapping him out of his reverie.

He pressed the 'talk' button.  "Yes?" 

"Hey," the voice on the other end said.  "That big-titted hot li'l blonde from 
Sakz is here."

".............................................................................

............Send her up."









For more on the Sisters of St. Hilda's, check out 
http://st-hilda.thevalkyrie.com/ or 
http://www.thevalkyrie.com/stories/sagas/index.htm