Keywords: MF, MFF, Mult, violent, slow Part: 5 of 8 Author: Knave of Hearts
Title: Grim Fairy Tales
Chapter 15: The Invasion of Troy Since being brought to the Eastern
Shore, Arabella had spent her time relaxing by the beach. Paris had been
gone for several days and Arabella wondered if she was any better off on
the Eastern Shore with a she barely knew than in Staunton with Simon.
As she had done for the last few days, Arabella put on her skimpiest
bikini, grabbed a book, and headed down to the beach as soon as she had
finished breakfast.
Standing on the back porch, she stared across the bay. The sky was
clear and the weather was beautiful but she was surprised when she heard
thunder off in the distance. Stepping off the porch, she waved to the next door, the one the neighbors called the Colonel.
"Sounds like we might get some rain later today," Arabella said.
"Rain? Hell there ain't a cloud in the sky." His eyes looked worried.
"That sound's like artillery."
Arabella lay in the sun; her skin shining with tanning oil, already
bored but determined not to pout about the path that she'd taken. She had
read about a chapter of her book, rolling over twice in the process, when a
shadow covered her and caused her to look up.
"Hey you!" She struggled to get up from her beach towel and give Paris a
hug. "Whoa man. You stink!"
She searched in vain for clean piece of cheek to kiss. Looking at his
tired eyes and the slump in his shoulders, she knew that something was
wrong.
Paris sank down on the beach steps, his eyes staring at the waves
lapping up on the shore. Arabella started to untie his boots and waited
for him to talk about whatever was bothering him. She'd gotten the right
boot off and had started on the left before he broke the silence.
"They're really throwing everything at us now." His voice was a tired
whisper. "We thought that we would be able to push them out of Cape
Charles. That it was another raid. But then they brought in tanks."
His mind went back to the carnage that he had just left. The front had
crumbled around his ears but Paris had worked hard to keep his troops from
completely disintegrating in the face of the enemy.
"Those are regulars out there! In tanks! " Paris screamed into his
radio's handset. "I need some support. Where are the tanks?"
The Shoremen had captured several tanks when they'd raided the National
Guard armory near Onancock but eight tanks couldn't be everywhere at once.
Paris shut his eyes in despair as the electronic voice gave him the bad
news.
"No armor support available. Dig in and hold as long as possible."
"Wilco." Paris threw the handset onto the field table.
The Army had arrived at dawn on fast moving LAVs, their 50mm cannons
spewing high explosive shells and tracer rounds. Once the LAVs had
penetrated the Shoremen's defenses, infantry poured out the back of the
vehicles and began clearing operations. Paris' troops had held them off
with anti tank missiles all day but, as darkness fell, the government had
brought up artillery and used night vision equipment. Shaken but still not
defeated, the Shoremen fell back. The only question was how much longer
could they hold.
Suddenly noticing that Arabella was undressing him, Paris returned to
reality and stood to allow Arabella to unbuckle his web gear.
"They ran past our bunkers before we could get organized. They're using
infrared sites and short range missiles to knock out our positions before
we can get a shot off." Paris teetered on the edge of hysteria, his voice
just above a whisper.
"We thought that we had them stopped a couple of times but there were
just too many tanks. They were less than a mile south of here an hour ago.
And now were running low on anti-tank missiles."
Once she got his clothes off, she could see that Paris' body was covered
with nicks, cuts, and abrasions. He looked at the scratches on his arms as
if seeing them for the first time.
"Got these in Cheriton." He laughed wryly. "One of their LAVs rammed
the building we were using for a TOC. I had to jump out the window. Jerry
Bullers got the LAV with a rocket."
Not wanting to interrupt him, Arabella took Paris' hand and led him into
the Bay. Once they were waist deep, she stopped him.
"Skin the cat" she said in a motherly voice.
Arabella pulled his T-Shirt over his head and, before he could react,
pushed his underwear down into the water.
"Once we get you clean, we've got some catching up to do." Paris hissed
as the salty water cleaned his scratches but he smiled at her pampering.
As she splashed water on his chest, he reached for her and drew her close.
"I'm clean enough for the next step." His grin was back in place. He
effortlessly lifted her into his arms and waded back to the beach.
"So this is how you spend your days while I'm working?" he teased
lightly as he slid the spaghetti strap from her shoulder and freed her
breast.
"I thought I'd get a good tan before going home."
Paris didn't reply. Instead he led her back to her beach blanket and
pulled off her bikini, tossing the pieces toward the steps that led up to
the house. Arabella lay on her back, her knees together as she watched him
with growing anxiety. Paris took her calves in his hands and opened them,
bending her legs until her knees touched her tits. Without any preamble,
he fucked her on the beach blanket, never saying a word.
Once he'd cum, he pulled out of her and stood. "Take your time on the
tan," he said as he picked up his gear and shook the sand off. "You can't
ever go home."
She was stunned into silence. She tried to convince herself that he was
still in shock from the attack as they walked back up the stairs to the
small house that he'd put her in the night she arrived. Arabella stood
behind him, chewing her lip as he rooted through the refrigerator for
something to drink. Finally summoning the courage to speak, she innocently
asked how long he could stay.
Paris, his voice tired responded, "I'll be home when I'm done. My
people need me. My is depending on me. I'm sorry but you'll just
have to be patient."
"Then how are you different from Simon?"
"I'm the one fucking you."
-=)0(= Paris showered and returned to his headquarters without another
word to Arabella. He passed the night coordinating his defenses against
the government's probes. During one of the counterattacks that Paris led,
the Shoremen regained much of what they had recently lost and pushed the
front line back towards Cape Charles by over 20 miles. Eastville was now
the front line. In the grim days of attack and counterattack, many saw the
government snatching defeat from the jaws of victory.
Despite the generally poor morale and hectic work schedule, Simon
continued to meet with Patty. Although it was no secret that they had been
seeing each other, they had always been discrete about their liaisons.
This time however, her message had instructed him to meet her on the
terrace behind the Q rather than at some secluded beach spot as they had
usually done. The small gazebo sat on a low bluff overlooking the water.
Simon approached the wooden structure, wondering why she had chosen
to alter their normal routine of meeting on a secluded beach. He saw her
sitting on the swing clad in a short white dress. As Simon stepped on to
the wooden deck of the gazebo, stopped to admire the view.
In front of him, Patty sat on the wooden bench swing dressed in a white
silk kimono. Smiling at him, she opened the robe and bared her tan,
voluptuous body to the warm night air. Her and crotch, paler that
the rest of her skin, seemed to glow in the soft moonlight.
"Tonight we're going to skip the playing around. Get over here and fuck
me." Patty cocked one leg onto the swing. Simon appreciated how the
movement had spread her lips. The breeze carried the spicy smell of
her excitement to him.
Despite the fact that they were in plain view of anyone who chose to
walk by or look out their window Simon undressed, never breaking eye
contact with her. His cock, stirred by the sight of her beautiful body,
began to swell and twitch. He stepped across the wooden floor and bent to
kiss her. Brushing his palms across her nipples, she tensed as he touched
her already sensitive flesh.
"Eat me," she hissed. "I want to feel your mouth on my pussy."
Smiling at her usual impatience, Simon sank to his knees and gently
parted her wet lips with his fingertips. Her clit stood erect at the
top of her slit, throbbing in time with her heart. He blew softly across
it, making her squirm, before turning his face slightly and kissing the
crease where her met her leg. Planting small kisses as he went,
Simon made his way to the bottom of her slit. His tongue slid along the
rim of her love tunnel, teasing but not entering her musky, silken hole.
Continuing up the other side, he spread her and licked the length of
her lips.
Patty's legs shuddered and she lifted her hips toward his mouth. His
tongue traveled toward her clit. Finding her little nubbin standing
proudly outside of its hood, he lightly it with his lips. She
pinned his head to her with her hands. Taking that as a sign to
continue, Simon harder, swirling his tongue around her tiny pearl.
Patty's hips rose as she sought release but Simon held her down.
He winced as her grip tightened, sharply pulling the hair on the back of
his head. He felt warm spurts of her juice splash against his chin. Her
face contorted with pleasure as her orgasm rolled through her like a tidal
wave. Simon placed his hand on her stomach, enjoying the feeling of her
muscles as they trembled.
Finally she released him. Taking a deep breath she pushed him back on
to his heels and stood. Bracing herself on the back of the swing, Patty
bent over and presented her ass to his hard throbbing cock.
When she was good and wet, she got up and bent over the back of the
swing, presenting her ass to his hard, throbbing cock.
"Now fuck me," she ordered.
He wiped her pussy's honey from his chin as he placed his cock against
her dripping cunt. "I won't ask what got into you," he said breathlessly.
Patty pushed back and impaled herself on his cock. "Shut up and fuck."
Simon worked his cock deep inside her love tunnel with short quick
strokes. His grasp on her hips helped him impale her on his fleshy spike.
He fucked her deep and slow. Although she had just cum, her was
still tight and Simon relished the soft liquid feel of her as it
enveloped his cock.
Reaching under her torso, he caught one of her swaying in his
hand. He pinched her nipple and made her swear. Sweat streamed off his
chest in the humid night air. He was close to cumming and increased his
tempo. Simon felt Patty's hand as she reached back between her legs and
frantically frigged herself as his cock ploughed in and out of her.
"Shit. I'm going to cum. Fuck me you bastard. Stuff your prick inside
me." Her knees buckled and Patty signaled her second orgasm with a stream
of foul language.
Feeling her tighten spasmodically around his cock, Simon held her
hips against his as he filled her womb with his cum. Completely exhausted,
Simon carefully let her down on to the bench seat. She smiled in a dreamy
sort of way and raised herself up to take his dripping cock into her mouth.
Sucking powerfully, she cleaned the remnants of their passion from his
wilting member.
The insistent attention to his penis made Simon groan. "You know if you
keep that up we'll have to go around again."
Patty just smiled. Her cheeks hollowed as she swirled her tongue along
the length of his shaft. Simon looked around. "Well at least let's go
inside." He pulled her to her feet. "I'm tired of being the evening's
entertainment for the entire Eastern Shore."
=)0(Almost a week after Paris' counterattack had erased many of the
invasion's gains, the government won some minor successes. After the town
of Oyster was finally retaken, Patty asked Alex for permission to raid one
of the Shoremen's main bases at Onancock. She had argued that the
government needed to stop the smuggling fleet of fishing trawlers that used
Onancock as their base. Alex reluctantly agreed but warned Patty not to
enter the shallow creeks that lined the main harbor's shipping channel.
"Make sure you stay outside of the sand bar," he warned sternly.
Sitting on the pier overlooking the harbor, Alex and Simon sat watching
the gulls. As they shared a six-pack of beer, Alex said that he had felt
that he should have denied her request but didn't know how.
"You couldn't have stopped her." Simon tried to console him. "If she
hadn't gone now, she'd have just asked you again later."
Patty was dead. Everyone in the harbor knew that the news was bad when
the Chaplain walked down the pier dressed in his full dress uniform.
During the attack, she had been too aggressive and had taken her command
boat, called a CCB, too far up one of the creeks as she engaged the fishing
boats that were moored there with cannon fire. Ordering her boats inside
the harbor jetty, Patty had been intent on finishing off one of the large
fishing trawlers that her guns had set ablaze. While directing the guns on
her CCB, she had taken her eyes off the depth finder and the boat had run
aground on one of the mud banks in the harbor. The helmsman tore at
the throttles, scrambling to get the CCB off of the bar but the mud's
suction held them fast. It probably wouldn't have mattered anyway, Simon
thought. Within a matter of seconds a tank, camouflaged by the marsh grass
on a nearby bank, fired and hit the CCB's magazine, killing all on board.
Simon felt numb. He sat on the porch at the Q and watched the stars,
just as he had with Patty the night that they had met. Taking a small sip
of whiskey, Simon reflected his time with Patty. They had always told each
other that the affair was completely on the physical level. It was about
two people trying to forget the horrors of the world around them. But now,
sitting alone, Simon realized that they had been insulating themselves from
the war by denying that they had any emotional ties to each other. To
anything.
He took a larger shot and felt the warm, caramel tasting liquor burn
down his throat. Looking back at the stars, he thought of Arabella.
-=)0(= Patty's death was the last straw for Alex. He personally met
with Major General Manlius and asked for another chance to break through
the Shoremen's defenses. The Navy brought a new CCB from Little Creek and
Alex set off to attack the Shoremen.
Alex landed his Marines on a beach just south of Exmore. Diverting the
rebels' attention with his gunboats, Alex outflanked the Shoremen's
defenses and swiftly drove inland. Anxious to end the fighting and avenge
Patty's death, Alex pushed eastward at top speed, hoping to reach the
highway and cut off the rebel troops that held the southern line. Moving
quickly, Alex's troops reached the highway junction but found that he had
overextended his troops and was surrounded by a quick counterattack.
While he tried to organize a defensive position along the railroad bed,
Ajax's vehicle was caught and destroyed in an ambush near the railroad
crossing in Nassawadox. Surrounded and cut off from the support of their
landing craft, the Marines fought their way back down Route 13 to the main
body of the JTF. The attack had been a complete failure.
Chapter 16: The Meeting Bobby huddled miserably inside his rain slicker,
the wind cutting every piece of exposed skin, as he drove the small
powerboat into the marshy creek. He cursed the need to navigate without
lights but he knew that if anyone saw him here, or with the person he was
meeting, his life would end immediately.
The shadow of another craft, lying low in the water, appeared from
behind a tall screen of marsh grass. Bobby tossed a line across to it and
stepped back to let his conspirator cross. Paris got on board Bobby's
boat.
"Call them off," the rebel commander said without preamble.
"Call whom off?"
"The tanks. They're too much for us. Infantry we can handle. Even the
Marines. But the tanks are just too quick and heavily armed."
Bobby flashed his most charismatic grin. "Now you know I can't do that,
too many questions in the media about why I was soft on the rebels. Why I
was meddling in military affairs, that sort of thing."
"Look Tyler. We have a deal. And when we're gone, who's going to buy
your missiles and stolen government supplies then?"
"Oh there's plenty that's willin' to pay for what I've got. But I
haven't forgotten you."
"Well if you're so worried about questions, you might want to worry
about the question of how a bunch of farmers got the latest Wyvern
missiles."
"Don't fuck with me boy." Bobby's mask of calm control slipped for just
a second. "My dealings with your are untraceable." His smile slid
smoothly back into place. "Besides, we needn't threaten each other. You
got the munitions you needed at a fair price."
"But what about the tanks?"
"I got you the Wyverns. Learn how to use them and kill the tanks
yourself," Bobby snapped. He was getting cold and looked at his watch.
"We don't have time."
"I'm sorry. There's nothing I can do." Bobby restarted his engine. "I
think that this interview has reached its conclusion. Don't you?"
"Before you leave. Why don't you look at this," Paris handed Bobby a
small disk player, "while you think about what you can do to help
us."
Bobby's mind whirled as he watched the beginning of the video. It was a
movie of him and Jonas Mawbry arranging a shipment of anti-tank missiles
and other military supplies. He remembered the meeting, almost a year ago.
He paled.
Just when Bobby thought that he had seen the worst, Paris added the coup
de grace. "That's just a sample. I've got others. Well hidden. And if
anything happens to us, these go out. Think of it as a life insurance
policy."
Without waiting for Bobby's reply, Paris climbed out of the darkened
cabin and on to his own boat. Untying the boat lines, Paris yelled, "I'll
be in touch. But don't wait too long. We can only hold another few days.
And if we fall, you're falling with us."
Cautiously retracing his route, Bobby piloted his boat back to his
private dock in his expensive Norfolk home. He knew that if those disks
got into the wrong hands, his plans for a future in politics were done.
'Hell,' he thought grimly, 'his life was done.'
His mind had been churning since Paris delivered his ultimatum. How
could he get those disks? He knew that the Shoremen were doomed. Their
rebellion had run its course and the government would move in, it was only
a matter of days or maybe hours. People were going to go to jail when the
media started looking for scapegoats and Bobby was going to make sure that
he wasn't one of them. He was a survivor, he told himself.
-=)0(= As the battle lines solidified, Manlius became afraid that if the
government's military assault lost momentum it would give the rebels time
to renew their political efforts or, perhaps, another counter attack. All
of his efforts, and all of the glory, would go directly to Tyler. The very
thought of Tyler made the General's stomach churn. He pressed the intercom
button and told his aide to get Simon on the phone.
"OK Woodsman, it's time for you to earn your pay." The General was
trying too hard to be chummy- something that immediately put Simon on his
guard. "We're sending you in tonight. You're code name is Odyssey.
Disable the Palladium and be ready to support our attack just before dawn."
-=)0(=
Madeline Altarby lay in bed playing with herself. Her stomach muscles
expanded and contracted, driving air in and out of her system as the fire
in her loins built. Her fingers gently massaged circles on top of her
clit.
She whimpered softly though her nose. Her insides melted as her orgasm
built. She was thinking about the previous night. She and Bobby had eaten
dinner in one of the restaurants that he liked to go to. In between
courses, he had leaned over and taken her hand. He pressed it into his
lap, grinding it against his hard on.
"Give me your panties," he whispered.
Although she had hesitated, she knew that she could never deny him. She
could not remember when he had reached out and taken control of her. Maybe
it had been that first night when he took her to his bed. Maybe it had
been any of the times since then but she knew that Bobby had unlocked
something inside of her, something that drove her to be utterly devoted to
him.
She had squirmed out of her panties, extremely conscious of the fact
that anyone in the restaurant could look over and see what she was doing.
When she had finished her dessert, her drooled over the sex that she
knew would follow. They had driven home in with her legs spread as Bobby
finger fucked her at stoplights. By the time they made it back to Bobby's
house she was dripping wet, her juices running down her thighs.
Following his orders, she undressed and laid spread eagle on his bed,
her hands grasping the wrought iron bars of the headboard. Bobby had come
out of the bathroom holding something behind his back. He climbed on to
the bed and knelt between her legs. From behind his back he pulled a large
black dildo. Madeline told him that she had never seen anything so long
and but that had just made him laugh.
After he had shown her the dildo he laid it on her chest between her
tits.
"Suck it," he told her. He laughed cruelly as she tentatively reached
out to the rubber schlong with her tongue.
"Here, this'll make it better," he had said coarsely. He took the dildo
and pressed it against her pussy. She was so wet it entered her without
any problem. His sneer still firmly in place, Bobby reamed her pussy,
driving the latex cock deeper and deeper into her. Her knuckles were white
as they grasped the iron rods but she didn't let go.
As she lay dreaming, Madeline inserted two fingers into her syrupy
pussy. She sweated from more than the humid summer air as she sank her
fingers into her cunt.
Bobby speared her with the dildo, driving it inside her until the rubber
base touched her pussy. Once the sex toy was firmly planted inside
Madeline's cunt, he stopped and leaned forward. Dramatically, he inhaled
the powerful aroma of her pussy. Running his tongue around the sex toy, he
tasted her oily juices before settling his mouth on her clit.
Just as she had done that evening, Madeline came. She clamped her
thighs together to intensify the feeling of her climax. She lay sweating
on the sheets, feeling the orgasmic wave ebb away from her throbbing loins.
Madeline removed her hand from her and wiped the from her
fingers on to a tissue from the bed stand. She stared at the ceiling
wondering where Bobby was. He had been called away on urgent business that
afternoon but hadn't returned. Sometimes he did that, but he always came
home. And she was always there to comfort him.
A phone ran in his office. Madeline recognized the ring. It was the
special phone installed by the military. She vaulted out of bed and ran
naked into Bobby's study. She picked up the phone, breathless from her
dash across the room.
It was Major General Manlius. "Trojan Resolve. Time is plus seven."
"Acknowledge plus seven," she said afraid that her voice would crack.
The line went dead. The final offensive had started. People would start
dying in seven hours. Where was Bobby?
-=)0(=
Six hours later, Bobby tied up the boat and walked into the house,
threads of a plan beginning to come together in his head. Dawn would break
in two hours and he had to be ready to move to protect himself. As he
walked into his bedroom, Madeline came darting in from her adjoining room.
He vaguely noticed that she wore her uniform instead of her more customary
robe.
"Bobby, where have you been? We've been looking all over the place for
you."
Bobby was in no mood to answer questions. "Stuart knew how to get ahold
of me." He sat on the bed and pulled off his shoes, crossly throwing them
in the direction of the closet. "What did you need me for that was so
important?"
"General Manlius' staff called on the secure line a couple of hours ago.
He's inserted Odyssey. The attack will start in an hour." Madeline then
launched into a litany of details on the operation and a list of people
that were looking for him but Bobby's mind had gone racing along another
path. Ignoring the still talking woman, he grabbed his cell phone out of
his jacket pocket.
"Stuart. Yes I know what time it is. Git your ass over here right now.
It's time to call in the markers. The shit's flying and we've got work to
do."
When Stuart arrived, Bobby sent Madeline off to arrange transport for
the political staff to Cape Charles. He wanted to be in front of the media
when it came time to announce the end of the rebellion. Once she was
occupied, he closeted himself with Stuart and laid out the details of a
more sinister plan.
"OK, Bobby," Stuart committed the plan to memory. What they were
talking about was too dangerous to write down. He ticked off the plan's
major points on his fingers. "We make sure that Paris and Jonas Mawbry
both die before they can talk. We search their houses and recover
everything that looks like a note, equipment, or a CD. And then we
spread the that Army deserters have been arrested trying to smuggle
more weapons across the Bay. Where do you want me to get the deserters?"
"Anywhere. I don't care. Use dead rebels if you want, no one will know
the difference. Just get me some good B-roll for the evening news."
Bobby's reference to background film footage made Stuart smile. After all,
politics was all about media management.
After Stuart left, Bobby contacted Manlius. The general smugly assured
him that the government offensive would end the Shoremen's rebellion in a
matter of hours.
"Once the Palladium is down, the helicopters will land my troops at all
of the major road junctions and port facilities. At the same time, we'll
launch an armored assault across the lines. We'll hit them fast and from
every direction. We figure most of them will surrender."
Disconnecting the videophone, Bobby snapped orders to his staff. It was
all coming down to the wire and he was determined to be on the ground and
in front of the news cameras when the rebellion ended.
Chapter 17: The Fall of Troy Simon had just gotten off the phone with
General Manlius. It was 2300 and it was time to go to work. Calmly, Simon
packed the reference material and equipment he would take with him. When
he had policed the suburbs of Washington DC, his equipment had been basic:
sturdy web gear, carbon fiber body armor, and a 9 mm pistol.
Now, with the resources of the government at his disposal, he was a one
man army. In addition to his high velocity .50 caliber bolt gun and
lightweight body armor, his combat vest housed more electronics than had
sent the first to the Moon. Powering up, Simon synchronized his
satellite-guided navigation system and made sure that the battery level for
his integrated computer system was at 100%.
The waiting was finally over, he thought. As he reviewed the plan and
its contingencies, his personal cell phone unexpectedly came to life.
Reaching over to his nightstand, he answered it.
"Simon, is that you?" The sound Arabella's voice froze his guts.
"Yes. Where are you? said you had taken a few days off. But
that was weeks ago."
"Oh Simon. I've made a big mistake. I was mad at you. You'd gone away
for business again and left me." Simon could tell that she'd been drinking.
The words poured out of her.
"So where are you?" His voice carried a note of worry.
"I came to a place called Eastville with a guy named Paris. I didn't
know that there was a war going on here. Simon. I'm so scared."
Simon's heart stopped beating. Three things were immediately obvious:
Arabella had run off with another guy; Paris was one of the top rebel
commanders in the southern sector; and that Eastville was only two miles
from the front line that the government troops were going to cross in less
than six hours. He wasn't sure which reason bothered him the most but at
least the last two meant that Arabella was in danger.
"Look, I've got to get you out of there." Simon's brain went into
overdrive.
"But how?"
"Don't worry about that. Hold on." He ran back to his desk. Knocking a
stack of notes and books out of the way, he pulled a small map out of the
pile. "You said you were in Eastville?"
There were four Palladium sites marked on his map- each possible landing
sites. Eastville was one of them, probably not the best one, but it would
do.
"Give me your address. I'll come get you."
Arabella gave him the address and some landmarks. "But how? When?"
"Don't worry. It'll be soon. Just call me if you move from there."
Simon grabbed his rucksack and ran out the door, there was no time to
waste. It took some talking to convince the staff pogues of his choice of
landing sites but everything was ready to go. Simon checked and
double-checked his gear hoping that he'd accounted for all contingencies.
Now that he would be bringing back Arabella, he had to travel light. He
hoped that Arabella had the same thing in mind when she packed.
One of flotilla's Alpha boats took him up the Bay. The Alpha boats were
shallow draught motorboats that had a minimum of armor and carried two
turret mounted 50mm Gatling guns fore and aft. Their large
inboard-outboard engines gave the Alphas the power to get in and get out of
areas fast and were often used for covert insertions and reconnaissance.
The boat chief briefed Simon as they motored across the open water of
the Chesapeake Bay toward the shore. "We'll drop you off here," The
Chief's finger pointed to a small marshy inlet, "there's a big sandbar
which makes our approach shallower than we'd like so you'll have 12 hours
there before we can pick you up. If you need to get out of there any
faster you'll have to walk."
The idea of trying to walk home through the battle lines wasn't very
appealing. Simon resolved to plan his movements so that he got Arabella,
hacked the Palladium, and got back to the pick up point in time to meet the
Lieutenant's boat.
"Shouldn't be a problem," Simon said more cheerfully than he felt.
The approach to the coast went without a hitch. The boat chief cut the
Alpha's engines as the crossed the sandbar, allowing the boat to coast
toward the beach on the rising tide. Simon jumped over the gunwale as soon
as the bow touched sand and rushed to the shelter of the marsh grass on the
dunes. The boat reversed engines quietly and was already crossing the bar,
on its way back out to open water, before Simon had climbed off the beach.
Simon snapped on his Night Vision Goggles and scanned the area. The
NVGs displayed everything in the area in an eerie green, magnifying the
light to turn night into day. The LED's in the bottom corner showed 0036.
He had five hours before dawn.
Activating the navigation subsystem that was strapped to his left
forearm, he checked his heads-up display. He saw three dots light up on
his display: he was the little green triangle, the Palladium site was a square, and Arabella's house was a blue diamond. The square was about
three miles to the southwest. The blue diamond would take him about a mile
out of his way. He knew that he had better move out; he had a busy night
ahead.
Simon walked quickly along the dark roads past fields of crops.
Crops that may never be harvested, he thought. He moved anxiously around
the isolated houses, hoping that no one looked out their window and
challenged him. He reached Eastville in about an hour, having made good
time despite the detours and obstacles he'd faced. Skirting the town,
Simon moved cross-country to get to the Bay side beach where Arabella was
living. It took him another half an hour to plod through the ploughed
field.
Silently crossing the road, Simon hid behind a boarded up beach cabin
and looked into the windows of Arabella's house. At first he didn't see
any movement. Fearing he had the wrong house or, worse, that she had left
again, Simon double checked his position from the landmarks that she'd
given him over the phone. He was in the right spot. But where was she?
Suddenly, a bright flash of light from inside the house's porch blinded
him. The automatic dampening of his NVGs saved his eyesight but he had to
blink hard to get rid of the tears that fogged his vision. When he could
finally see again, Simon saw Arabella, dressed in a light summer dress,
mixing a drink from the liquor cart on the porch. Her face looked worried
and her hand shook as she sloshed whiskey into the glass. Simon would like
to have sat and watched her longer, but time was ticking away and it would
make their escape harder if she were drunk.
Simon waited for her to turn off the porch light before he approached.
Slipping up his goggles, he quietly lifted the door latch and let himself
on to the porch. Staying low and, hopefully out of sight from the
neighbors, he turned the doorknob and let himself into the house. The
sitting room that he found himself in was empty. The noise from a radio
came from under one of the doors. Simon suddenly realized that he hadn't
checked to make sure that Arabella was alone. He drew his sidearm and
whispered Arabella's name.
He thought quickly and moved to his left and drew the shade on the
window. Still moving in the dimly lit room, Simon stepped toward the door
with the radio behind it. His lips felt dry and he could hear his heart
hammering in his chest. He reached out for the doorknob with his left
hand.
He nearly jumped out of his skin when the door suddenly opened.
Arabella dropped her glass and squealed at the sight of a combat equipped
soldier pointing a large pistol at her.
"Stop! It's me," Simon said. He could only hope that the neighbors
wouldn't come running over to investigate.
Arabella stood still, clutching her heart and trying to get control of
her breathing. "Jesus Christ. You scared the shit out of me."
"I was afraid to call."
"Afraid?"
"Of who else might answer the phone."
"Oh." The look on her face said volumes. She sobbed quietly. "How can
I say I'm sorry? All I want is to say I'm sorry and go home."
Out of the blue, Simon realized that his pistol was still pointed at
Arabella. He quickly engaged the safety and holstered his weapon. Broken
glass crunched under his boots as he moved to her and took her in his arms.
He held her to him, her face resting against the rough covering of the body
armor. His mouth opened but no words came out.
'What does you say to a girlfriend that ran off with another man?' he
thought.
Arabella looked up into his face. She saw the inner struggle that he
was having. Supporting herself on his arms, she stepped back. She brushed
an errant lock of hair from her face and composed herself.
"You've every right to be angry with me," she began. "But before we say
anything else I want you to know that I love you and . . ."
"And I love you," Simon interrupted. "We need to go through this all
another time and another place." He looked at the clock on the dresser.
"We've got three hours to hit the target and get our heads down."
"Where are we going?" She suddenly realized that she had forgotten to
ask.
Simon slid his heads up display back into place. The square was
still more than a mile from them. "A sensor site that's a mile southwest
of here."
"What does it look like?"
"Probably a small concrete building and a covered antenna."
"Like an upside down ice cream cone?"
"Yeah. Come to think of it, I guess it does."
"Then I can take you there." She grabbed her keys from the dresser.
"The neighbor lets me borrow his pickup to run errands," she said
cheerfully.
While Simon crouched in the dark beside a bush, Arabella "borrowed" the
truck from the neighbor. He crawled into the truck bed and lay down,
watching the skyline zip by as she drove him to the sensor site. Arabella
slowed as they turned on to the site's gravel road.
"There are two guards ahead," she whispered through the cab window.
"Don't stop, just slow down. Distract them and I'll take them out."
Simon slid toward the back of the truck bed and over the back corner of
the tailgate. He was relieved to see the place guarded by two teens rather
than older, possibly wiser men. Arabella drove up to the two guards and
started talking with them. She made sure that they had a good view down
the neck of her dress as she leaned through the truck's window. Seeing
that she was being successful, she got out of the truck and leaned against
the fender, letting them see all of her.
At first they seemed to take their jobs seriously but, with a little
flirting, Arabella soon had their minds and eyes wandering all over her
curvaceous form.
"I was just sitting on the porch swing and I got bored. I figured that
I would come on out here and do my part to keep up your morale." She knew
it sounded corny but the two guards seemed to buy it.
The taller one gripped his hunting rifle tightly, "I'm sorry, Miss.
You are not allowed here. This is a sensitive military site."
Smiling she told him, "I guess you're just going to have to take me
prisoner."
The offer obviously intrigued the shorter guard. "Hell Claude. It
couldn't do any harm as long as we didn't leave our posts. She's just a
little girl, she cayn't nuthin."
"That's right, Claude." Arabella held her hands out from her sides. "If
it will make you feel better, why don't you just search me?"
Holding his eyes with her gaze, Arabella unbuttoned her dress. When
Claude didn't move, she switched targets.
"Alright then. If Claude is worried, why don't you search me Earl?
Claude can cover us with his weapon."
Earl wasn't slow to accept her invitation and soon fumbled with her
buttons as she smiled provocatively to Claude. Earl soon had her dress
unbuttoned and was impatiently kneading her pale through her bra.
Simon sighed softly. He had planned on killing the sentries but
Arabella was keeping them occupied. He looked at how they were and
how close the farmhouse across the field was. If he fired, he could bring
the locals down on his head. He looked once more at Arabella on her knees
and knew that she was doing this for him. While both guards watched her
every move, Simon snuck into the building, catching Arabella's eye as she
sank to her knees to take unzip Earl's pants and take his cock into her
hand.
Swiftly padding around the corner of the building, Simon carefully
pulled a small computer cable from his vest and plugged it into the
electronic door lock. When the light on the lock went from to green,
Simon pushed the door open and stepped inside. There was a small control
workstation, huddled against the wall in a room full of wiring frames and
humming equipment.
Locking the door behind him, Simon sat at the workstation's keyboard.
He set up his equipment and noticed that he could watch Arabella's
diversion with the two guards through the security monitor. Thankful that
the security system didn't provide sound, Simon tried to concentrate on his
task rather than watch his girlfriend in her starring role in a silent porn
film.
The trio was still standing on the grass verge that surrounded the
building. Claude had finally gotten interested, so Arabella had taken
Earl's cock from her mouth and stood. She finished unbuttoned her dress
and let it slide over her hips to the ground, wiggling her ass enticingly.
Claude set his shotgun against the truck fender and eagerly peeled her
panties off.
Stirring himself back into action, Simon pulled a cable from his pack.
Unscrewing a panel on one of the cabinets, he sat his gear on top of the
desk and used the cable to connect the personal computer in his combat vest
to an empty port inside the cabinet. After impatiently waiting for the
program to start up, Simon logged on.
The drama on the security monitor continued. Arabella had pushed Earl's
pants to his knees and was playing with his cock, stroking his shaft and
massaging his balls. Claude knelt behind her and caressed Arabella's ass
while she bent from the waist and resumed Earl's cock.
Simon's nerves jangled as he watched the login scripts appear and scroll
across his heads-up display. Outside, Claude lowered his mouth to
Arabella's pussy. Pressing his face against her puffy labia, he speared
her with his tongue. Earl's hips rocked and swayed as Arabella
continued to lick and suck his cock. Holding his stiff prick to one side,
she tickled his balls with her tongue.
The Palladium system accepted Simon's false login. Everything looked
fine. Arabella spread her legs to give Claude more access to her as
he fumbled with his belt. Simon could see her smoothly shaven pussy,
shades lighter than her tan legs, shining in the monitor's grainy display.
Simon set his program's trigger time for 10 minutes before the first
gray light of dawn. He planned to have the system distribute the virus as
part of its routine status update0. He watched the timer roll toward zero,
his eyes shifting from the numbers on the heads-up display to the figures
on the security monitor.
Arabella sensed that Earl was close to climax and began stroking his
prick with her hand while she nibbled on his cock head. Claude unlimbered
his cock and, holding the redhead steady by her hips, penetrated Arabella's
pussy. Earl's hips thrust forward and Simon saw Earl shoot jets of on Arabella's face. The shorter stumbled, his knees momentarily weak,
as he decorated the beautiful redhead's face and throat with his cum.
Using his secure radio, Simon called Manlius and reported that
everything was going according to schedule. still dripping from her
cheek, Arabella worked to revive Earl shrinking cock. At the same time,
Claude leisurely pumped his cock in and out of Arabella's pale, shaven
snatch. Simon watched as the two talked with each other over
Arabella's back. Anger surged through Simon and he felt his hands get
clammy at the thought of these two yokels casually fucking Arabella as if
she were a piece of meat.
The system's clock triggered the virus. The virus started a denial of
service attack by blocking the links between sites with requests for phony
resources. Simon watched as the system responded as he had planned and
spent more and more time looking for resources that didn't exist.
Back outside, Earl had regained his hard-on and was sitting on the
ground. Looking over her shoulder, Arabella said something to Claude
before they too sat on the grass. Simon watched as she rearranged
the two guards, straddling Claude's legs and guiding his cock back into her
pussy. The tell guard grasped her as he pushed his dick in and out
of her cunt. Earl didn't want to be left out and licked Arabella's asshole
while she ground her hips against his friend's. Once Earl's tongue had
lubed her tight rosette, he stuck his finger in her anus and loosened her
up.
"What ya doing back there Earl?" Claude lifted his head to see what his
friend was doing but Arabella guided his mouth to her breast.
"I saw this over at my cousin's once. This gal took two at
the same time." Earl's finger plunged into Arabella's ass. "I always
wondered what that felt like." Simon watched, jaws clenched, as his
girlfriend responded by lifting her hips to meet the guard's digit.
Simon's eyes flicked back to the heads-up unit. Messages between the
sensor sites scrolled past; the virus had taken effect. The Palladium's
central control responded to the overload of system traffic by shutting
down the inter-site routers and alerting the technicians to troubleshoot.
Simon saw the alert message from the control station that dispatched a
tech to the remote site. He knew that it was time to leave. Even though
he saw that the virus was working and that the central control was reacting
the way he expected, he also knew that he and Arabella had to depart before
the tech showed up. He made another call to the General.
"Havoc." Simon gave the codeword and hung up. Let loose the dogs of
war, he thought.
Within moments of Simon's sabotage, the government forces acted to take
advantage of the Palladium's paralysis. Air assault forces lifted off from
Fort AP Hill and Little Creek Naval Station. Formations of control
aircraft, close air support fighters, and anti-tank gunships scrambled and
moved toward the peninsula.
Back in front of the Eastville remote site, Earl slowly pushed his cock
into Arabella's ass. Carefully avoiding touching each other, the two slowly pumped her full of cock. Arabella's expression was caught between
pleasure and pain as Earl's prick filled and stretched her back passage.
She rested on her elbows, her head hanging limply, and tried to relax as
Claude and Earl both fucked her. She felt both cocks rubbing against each
other through the thin wall that separated her ass from her cunt.
The friction on their cocks was unbelievable and both came
after a few seconds, flooding her insides with jets of their hot cum. The
warm spurting inside her set off Arabella's orgasm and she groaned as her
body quivered with orgasmic spasms. She collapsed on to Claude's chest.
Exhausted, Earl rolled off the groaning and twitching Arabella.
Seeing that they were done, Simon disconnected his equipment and left
the building. The exhausted trio lay panting in the grass only a few feet
away. Simon used the last gray shrouds of night to hide behind the truck.
The guards untangled themselves from Arabella and, wiping their cocks on
their shirttails, wandered into the building to use the latrine, quietly
boasting about their experience between themselves.
Joining Arabella inside the truck as she drove off, Simon whispered,
"How do you feel?" Simon fought down a niggling sprout of jealousy.
"A bit stretched. I'll be OK. Let's just get out of here." Arabella
waved to the guards over her shoulder as she pointed the pickup back to the
main road.
Simon gave her directions and Arabella drove to the pick-up point. They
sat under his mosquito netting and listened to the helicopters thundering
towards the beach. North of them the bass rumbles of a monitor, one of the
Navy's pocket battleships, let them know that the invasion had started in
earnest. Simon held Arabella close without saying a word. Anything that
needed to be said could wait, he thought.
Chapter 18: Let the Celebration Begin Exhausted from their night at the
sensor site, Simon and Arabella hid in a copse of pine trees
overlooking the place where the boat would meet them. Arabella parked the
truck between some trees as Simon arranged his poncho for them to lie on.
They had not said a word since leaving the site and, although the sky was
filled with shrieking jets and thundering helicopters, neither looked up.
Arabella knelt next to Simon on the poncho, her eyes looking hopefully
into his. "Simon, I don't know how to say I'm sorry. I . . ."
He silenced her with a soft kiss. "What matters now is that we're
together again. We'll work through the rest later. When we're home."
They lay down and Simon pulled the poncho over them both. her
body next to his, he shivered slightly in the dawn's chilly air and scooted
closer to Arabella's warm body. They were both asleep in moments.
The Alpha boat arrived at the appointed time. Although the boat chief
raised his eyebrows at the sight his extra passenger, he didn't say
anything to stop Arabella from getting aboard. Together Simon and Arabella
rode the Alpha boat back to Cape Charles. South to the Task Force's
headquarters. Their first step toward home.
-=)0(= The first troop carrying helicopters had reached their targets by
the time Bobby arrived on the Eastern Shore and established himself in a
quaint farmhouse outside of Cape Charles. His staff updated him throughout
the day on the attack's progress and the news got better and better. By
nightfall, the rebellion had collapsed, punctured like a balloon from
hundreds of nails.
That evening Bobby invited Madeline and his new housemaid Susie into his
bedroom for a victory celebration. Bobby was in high spirits and had
ordered champagne to celebrate the victory over the rebellion. And
although the military had done the work, he was confident that his media
managers could sell this to the public as his victory.
Madeline entered Bobby's study with the chilled wine. Right behind her
Susie, the housekeeper, appeared with the champagne flutes. Both had
curious little smiles on their faces.
"Why don't you open this," Madeline set the ice bucket in front of
Bobby's chair, "and I'll unwrap your present."
Madeline walked back to where Susie stood in the middle of the room.
Both women were tall, buxom, and just a little plump. Just the way Bobby
liked his bedroom partners. The women stood in profile, Susie watching him
as Madeline unbuttoned the redheaded housekeeper's blouse, pausing often
with comments or caresses. Bobby smiled as his big, military
liaison officer continued to disrobe the housekeeper. Once Susie was
undressed, she took her turn helping Madeline out of her clothes until both
women stood before him clad only in their birthday suits. Bobby laughed
when he saw that, while Madeline's was smooth shaven, Susie still
had a curly light brown bush on top of her thighs.
The two fished Bobby's cock out of his trousers and gave him a
blowjob while he sat in his chair. He spread his knees and Madeline licked
his head and shaft while Susie his balls. Bobby loved watching
their huge sway as they bobbed up and down on his turgid cock.
After he was hard, the women undressed him and then escorted him to the
rug in the center of the room. Susie laid on her back, her juices matting
down her brown pubic curls. Bobby helped Madeline eat Susie's until
she was dripping with excitement.
"Roll over," Bobby told Susie. "And you crawl underneath her," he
instructed Madeline.
Positioning himself behind the redheaded housekeeper's plump thighs,
Bobby entered Susie doggy style while Madeline, who had placed herself
underneath Susie, continued her tongue action on both Susie's and
Bobby's cock. Susie bucked and jerked like a wild as she felt
Madeline's soft wet tongue flick across her clit. Bobby held on to the
large woman's ass, letting her ride up and down on his cock. As he felt
his balls fill with sperm, he fucked her with short stabbing strokes,
banging his balls against her furry twat. Without warning, his back arched
and he deposited his seed into her wildly thrashing body.
With Bobby still, Madeline attacked the mouth of Susie's love tunnel,
licking and slurping his seed as it escaped from the other woman's hole.
He pulled his hips back, removing his cock and releasing a flood of on
to the blonde's face.
Wiping his slick cock across her eager lips, Bobby addressed Susie.
"Not bad for a first time. But if Miss Madeline keeps on me, I'll
be ready for round two in just a minute."
Susie shifted her position and spread Madeline's legs with her arms,
unfolding Madeline's bald like a flower in full bloom. She flattened
her tongue and painted a broad stroke through Madeline's down to the
officer's puckered asshole. Looking up, Susie saw that Bobby had moved to
watch her eat Madeline and she told him that Madeline had made herself wet
while watching them fuck.
Susie took his cock and guided it into Madeline's hole. Bobby plunged
inside her in a single thrust. From between Susie's legs, Madeline grunted
as Bobby forced his way into her.
"Fuck me. Fuck me hard, just like you like it. Fuck me deep, baby. I
want to feel your inside me."
Madeline thrust her hips towards Bobby's, the excitement of being fucked
in front of another woman consuming her.
Bobby looked at Susie. "Yes, my fuck toy likes it rammed deep inside
her," he said as he teased Madeline with short, shallow strokes.
"Please. Please fuck me." Madeline squirmed underneath Susie's body.
"I'll fuck you," he said, showing Susie how he wanted her to hold
Madeline's legs back. "I'm going to show Susie how you like my cock in
your ass."
Madeline whimpered but didn't object. Susie lowered her face to
Madeline's crotch, licking both her and ass. Bobby murmured his
approval when Susie ran her tongue over Madeline's ass, spreading juice and saliva around the blonde's nether hole. Seeing that Madeline was
lubed, Susie inserted her finger into Madeline's ass.
She looked up at Bobby, who watched her intently while stroking his
cock, and told him, "She's ready."
Susie placed the head of his cock against Madeline's brown rosette.
Bobby pushed forward slightly, not allowing himself to penetrate Madeline's
ass. "You're my favorite fuck toy. You like my cock in your all of your
holes don't you?"
Madeline moaned softly but Bobby reached underneath Susie and pinched
Madeline's swollen nipple, making her stiffen and whimper. "Tell me you
want my cock in your ass" he hissed. "I want to hear you say, 'Put your
cock in my ass Bobby.' Say it."
"Put your cock in my ass, Bobby" Madeline said softly.
"Say it so Susie can hear what kind of slut you are."
"Put your cock in my ass" Madeline said louder, her hips pressing down
as she tried to get Bobby's cock inside her.
"Hear that Susie? She's my best cunt. Always ready to get nasty."
Bobby lifted Madeline's heavy in his hand. He rolled her nipple with his finger. "Aren't you Maddie?"
"Yesss." Madeline looked at Susie through half-mast eyes; she seemed to
be in another world, almost possessed by the thought of Bobby's cock inside
her. "Please fuck me. Please put your cock in my ass. Fill me with your
cum."
Susie held Bobby's cock against Madeline's rear hole. She couldn't tear
her eyes off the sight of his cock sinking slowly into Madeline's exposed,
willing ass. Madeline's eyes were shut tight. Although her mouth was open
in a silent gasp, she wore a blissful expression on her face. Bobby worked
his cock into her slowly but then started to pick up his pace until he was
taking deep, firm strokes into Madeline's backside. Susie played with
Madeline's clit while Bobby's cock reamed the blonde's asshole. Madeline
soon began writhing and squirming from the pressure of her building orgasm.
Madeline's breath came in ragged gasps and mewling sounds emerged from
her throat. Finally she made a loud choking sound. Her legs clamped
together, trapping both Susie's hand and Bobby's cock, as she came.
Madeline's orgasm seemed to last forever. The tremors inside her
triggered Bobby's second orgasm of the evening and Madeline groaned as she
felt his hot seed spurting inside her ass. Spent, she collapsed like a
sweaty rag doll on the rug; her breath coming was harsh gulps.
After recovering slightly, Madeline went into the bathroom to wash up
and get a washcloth to help Bobby clean up. Bobby lay on the rug, lit a
cigarette, and scratched at his crotch while Susie slid her hands across
his shoulders and rubbed his back. Her warm hands caressed his chest. She
ran her hands across his chest, tweaking one of his nipples. Without
warning Susie clamped her arm around Bobby's throat, strangling him with a
muscular forearm.
Stunned at first, Bobby tried to fight back he started to see stars in
the corners of his eyes. He thrashed around, his hands tearing at the
housekeeper's arms but he couldn't pry her off of his windpipe.
Susie had almost succeeded in killing Bobby but was interrupted by
Madeline's return. Reacting without a second's thought, Madeline launched
herself at Susie, tackling the housekeeper and knocking her away from
Bobby's gasping form. The women wrestled with each other, knocking over
furniture and breaking the night lamp, but Bobby rushed to get to the
pistol that he always kept in his dresser.
The women writhed around on the floor, their limbs intertwined and their
positions shifting with each strike, but Bobby fired anyway. The bullet
hit both of them. A silence filled the room as Bobby cautiously walked
towards them to investigate. Susie lay dead; her eyes wide open. His
bullet had cut through her ribs and penetrated her heart. Madeline lay
atop the dead housekeeper, whimpering in pain from the bullet wound that
had scored her ribs.
Bobby didn't waste time with pity. Leaving his lover bleeding on the
rug, he wrapped his robe around himself and went to his desk. Pacing the
room, he called Manlius and cursed the general, outraged by the lack of
security and the severity of the personal attack. Bobby didn't even notice
when another staffer helped Madeline from the room.
-=)0(=
Dawn had just begun to light the once placid farmland as Manlius' troops
arrived by helicopter to capture the Shoremen. Events swiftly followed the
government's plan. Paris was captured and executed immediately, shot in
the head by the general himself as the troops swarmed over the Shoremen's
headquarters in an orgy of looting and rape. The rebellion collapsed
within hours just as the general had predicted.
Several hours after the first troops had landed, Simon returned to Cape
Charles and found Manlius trying to stem a flood of reporters while his
officers reestablished order among the troops. Casting about for someone
to feed to the media, Manlius saw Simon and pushed him toward the cameras.
Simon, still tired from his sleepless night, found himself staring into
bright lights and answering questions from reporters with vague phrases.
As soon as he could break free he returned to his rooms, collected his
gear, and went to the headquarters to complete his out briefing.
His ordeal almost at an end, Simon was anxious to settle down with
Arabella back in Staunton. His mind ran through all of the things he had
to do to get out of the Army and go home, his first priority. He wasn't
watching were he was walking and didn't notice Bobby Tyler as the
politician rushed down the hallway.
"Well Mr. Woodsman, if you're done looking dazed and stupid in front of
the nation, it's time to step aside for the professionals to take over."
Simon, his temper short, hurriedly swallowed his pride and let the
conceited politician pass. Staring at the receding back of the
Bobby's arrogant form, Simon shook off his anger, realizing that arguing
with the politician would only delay his return
Without giving Simon a second thought, Bobby stood in front of a mirror
and primped for the news conference. His news conference. A media
opportunity where he would declare the victorious end to the rebellion.
Stuart, his chief of staff walked in, black circles under his eyes.
"Well?" Bobby fussed in front of the mirror trying to decide what look
to go with. "What do you think Stuart? Starched and professional - 'the
calm statesman in charge of the scene'? Or loosen the tie and look as if I
have played a major operational role? You know - the with his hand on
the tiller?"
Getting no response from his advisor, Bobby loosened the tie and decided
on the Jack Kennedy, 'personally in charge' look. Finally noticing that
Stuart hadn't answered him, he repeated, "Well?"
Stuart had stood silently throughout his boss' preening. "We got the
two rebels," he reported, sinking into a chair and running his hands
through his hair. "Manlius capped Paris Mawbry himself. Right in the
head. The man," referring to Jonas, "shot himself before we could get
to him."
"And the disks? What about the evidence?"
Stuart ran his hands through his hair. He looked tired and frustrated.
"That's the problem. We didn't find any. We even went out to the beach
house where Paris had been keeping some redheaded whore, but the place had
been abandoned. Broken glass on the floor. Stuff still in the dresser.
Looked like she left in a hurry."
"I don't care about his mistress. Where the hell are those disks!" For
the moment, Bobby had forgotten all about his press conference.
"All we got was a name. Arabella Hood. Neighbors said that she was
some gal Paris brought back a little while ago from the Valley."
Bobby's mind whirled. The mere hint of scandal at a time like this
would change his victory party into a lynch mob.
"Shit. Stuart, you find this bitch. See if she's got anything from
that beach cabin. Anything that he might have those disks in, and
you bring them back before she gives those disks to anyone." Looking back
in the mirror, he smoothed his hair and regained his trademark grin. Time
to meet the press.
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