2Charlie
patreon
Quaranteam: SE - Team Davies Ch. 21 (Beta)
🕑 Added 2025-10-24 10:00:11 +0000 UTCQuaranteam: Southeast – Team Davies
By 2charlie
The Quaranteam Universe is the creation of CorruptingPower, used with permission.
Chapter 21 (Beta)
All Characters depicted in sexual situations in this story are over the age of 18.
***Gainesville, FL – 1700 Wednesday, October 7, 2020***
Miles logged off his AFNet seat, then closed the clamshell of the laptop. He considered undocking the computer to take it home, but changed his mind. On this of all days, he wanted to leave his work at the office. He took a moment to clear off his desk, making sure nothing sensitive was left out in open view, locked the drawers, then looked around, sighing.
It’s just another day, he reminded himself. In the back of his mind, he was certain that his partners had planned something for his birthday, but his inner twelve-year-old was frustrated that they’d pretty much ignored him all day, at least so far. Shaking his head, Miles tried to pull himself out of his funk. Intellectually, he knew his partners had not – would not have – forgotten his birthday.
Miles’ ruminations were interrupted when Rommie and Izzy returned to his office. Apparently, part of their new routine included a quick perimeter sweep and vehicle check before they allowed him to depart.
Izzy lagged behind in the entry, where he could hear her bidding Staff Sgt. Clyburn good evening, as Rommie stepped up to him and gave him a quick hug, leaning over to give him a good view down her blouse in the process. “C’mon, Miles,” she purred in his ear. “Time to go home. Deb took the others in the Hummer, so it’s just the three of us left.”
“Right,” he agreed, mesmerized by the enchantment of her bosom, snugly encased in a lacy bra, “time to go.” Blinking owlishly, he shook his head to clear it and stood, kissing his partner, then nodding toward the door. “I’m ready when you are.”
Together, Izzy and Rommie led the small group out through the now-vacant entryway to the parking lot, where they waved at Clyburn as she pulled away in her silver Toyota Camry. Hands never far from their weapons, the two women paused as they reached the Beast, Miles’ big blue Ford Expedition, maintaining a watchful presence until he was in the back seat, then Izzy climbed up into the front passenger seat as Rommie got in behind the wheel.
“Please keep all arms, legs, or other extremities inside the vehicle as we begin our ride,” Rommie intoned in a good imitation of a theme park attendant, and the Beast lurched into motion as she wheeled it over, heading for the front gate to FOB Waldo.
They passed a stream of buses returning to base on their way out the gate. Evidently, the construction crews were conducting their shift turnover, and the day shift was being shuttled back to their barracks. Miles made a mental note to follow up with Ava later to see if she had any concerns about the Icon print rigs or the RED HORSE crews that had been trained to operate them. If he recalled the updated schedule that he’d reviewed earlier in the week, they were preparing to print the first foundations either tomorrow or Friday, depending on the weather.
Miles was surprised by the work that had been completed by the RED HORSE team as Rommie turned onto what used to be his private drive. The once-narrow drive had been widened within the past eight hours to more than double its original width, paved over in blacktop, with its path now bending around a newly positioned prefabricated gatehouse that sat in the middle, controlling ingress as well as egress. A pair of Air Force Security Forces could be seen manning the post, one stepping out to confront them as they approached the new lift gate.
In addition to the new gatehouse and accompanying gates, a reinforced perimeter was under construction. He had seen the site being prepared earlier in the week, with the survey team marking the footprint of the wall on Monday, the trenches being dug, and pea-gravel laid and compacted on Tuesday. Today, he could see where the concrete footings for the wall had been poured and smoothed. Just beyond the perimeter, workers were busy staging large pallets of cinderblocks and rebar.
Beyond those materials, he spied something odd, which puzzled him for a moment. Large, rubbery-looking molds of some sort were stacked neatly next to several piles of bagged cement. After a moment, he realized that the molds were intended to be used to stamp the walls, providing a more aesthetically pleasing appearance. He grunted in pleasure, relieved that this area’s natural beauty would not be corrupted by something as harsh and garish as a simple block wall.
Having checked Rommie’s identity, the gate guard waved them through, saluting the vehicle as it passed her position. Miles nodded to the young female non-com as they went by, turning to see another new sight up ahead. Around his property, at what he presumed was the perimeter, stakes had been carefully placed by a survey crew. Spying movement off to the west, Miles could make out a crew working to place the markers along the far edge of his property line.
“What’s going on here?” he asked aloud, already guessing that a wall was being built around his home, but wondering who had authorized its construction.
“Surprise!” Izzy quipped from the front seat. “When I spoke with that RED HORSE Tech Sergeant, Jiminez, I suggested that they build a privacy wall around your property when they began the site perimeter, as an additional layer of physical security. Looks like they’re getting started on it.”
Miles almost objected, knowing that he would miss the open panoramic view he’d enjoyed since first building his home here, but realized that their current situation called for such measures. Not even a wrought iron fence would be a viable alternative. Frowning slightly, he grunted in acknowledgment before adding, “Good thinking, Gunny.”
Backing the Beast into its space in the oversized garage, Rommie shut down the engine but remained in the vehicle until the garage door had closed. Only then did she exit, turning to open Miles’ door.
Shaking his head, still dismayed at the way his reality had shifted of late, Miles exited the vehicle and headed into the dark kitchen, lost in silent contemplation. His distraction kept him from realizing that his long-awaited birthday surprise was finally upon him.
The overhead lights came on suddenly, momentarily blinding him. When his vision adjusted, he saw the kitchen had been covered in decorations. A large-lettered ‘Happy Birthday’ sign stretched in an arc across the wall behind the table, and helium-filled balloons were floating above every chair, tethered by lengths of ribbon to keep them anchored in place. The delicious aroma of cooked beef was heavy in the air, along with the familiar scent of other favorite foods.
His partners, save for Izzy and Rommie, were standing across the kitchen, the children arrayed in front of them, and all shouted out, “Surprise!” as he entered the room. He’d not made it two steps into the room before he was swarmed, Sean and Ellie leading the way, as all five children attempted to wrap him up in a giant embrace.
Miles carefully knelt down, wrapping his arms around the kids as they hugged him. “You guys! This is amazing!” he beamed at them, kissing them each on the forehead. “Which one of you did all of the balloons? I love balloons!”
“Emma and I did the balloons,” Noah beamed, bouncing on his toes in excitement. “Did you know helium makes your voice sound funny?”
“Yeah!” Trent confirmed, giggling. “You should’ve heard Aunt Penny! She sounded like a chipmunk!”
“Oh, is that so?” Miles feigned surprise. “A chipmunk, eh? I wish I’d been home to hear that!”
The children giggled, regaling him with other snippets of the day’s news. He listened to them patiently, laughing at their little comedies, and generally indulging them. After a few minutes, Penny cleared her throat with a clear ‘a-hem’, after which Miles disentangled himself and stood back up, gently parting the kids so he could step through them to hug his partners.
Breaking free of the group hug after what felt like enough and too little at the same time, he excused himself to change out of his uniform. Rommie and Izzy followed, each desiring to change into more comfortable attire. Miles found himself a bit dismayed that, like that morning, none of his partners opted to take advantage of the brief opportunity for intimacy. Instead, moments later, he found himself once again near the kitchen, this time joining his family in the formal dining room, where large folding tables and a bevy of folding chairs had been used to double the seating capacity of the dinner table, allowing the entire family – all fourteen of them – to sit at the same table for dinner.
The meal was simple, yet elegant. A platter at each end of the table contained savory slices of standing rib roast, cooked to a perfect medium-rare temperature. Bowls of spring-mix salads were placed to one side of the meat, with mashed potatoes standing ready on the other side. Baskets filled with hot rolls completed the array of food, with butter, gravy, au jus, and condiments available at each end.
Penny and Debra were busy serving thin slices of prime rib to the children as Miles, Rommie, and Izzy took their seats. Miles inhaled deeply through his nose, savoring the smells of the food, then audibly sighed. “Dinner smells delicious, gang,” he observed, clearly relishing the meal arrayed before him.
“Thank you, dear,” Penny replied. “Rommie shared Victoria’s recipe with us.” She nodded toward his god-sister. Rommie merely smiled in acknowledgement, blushing ever so slightly.
The dinner conversation flowed easily, with the children expressing amazement at the tenderness and flavor of the meat, and Ava and Debra wanting to know more about Miles’ surprise call with Elon Musk.
“So, this is good news, right?” Ava asserted. “I mean, now you can show off the greater self-sufficiency of your lodging designs, which should go a long way to furthering residential sustainability overall, no?”
Miles nodded, swallowing his food before responding. “It’s a nice surprise, for sure,” he agreed. “I was worried that the full potential of the new modular homes would go undemonstrated, as the cost to retrofit the buildings post-build would be too much, meaning it would probably never happen. Now, we will at least have a pretty solid proof-of-concept neighborhood, which should go a long way to convince the skeptics.”
“What do you think Musk meant when he said you’d have good situational awareness of his new production facility in the southeast?” Debra asked with an odd expression.
“Probably just that, as head of Project Endure, I would be one of his larger customers, at least to start,” Miles replied with a shrug. He wondered again if the eccentric billionaire might have been hinting at something else, but dismissed the matter. “Anything he might have been hinting at is irrelevant, so long as I am still on active duty. It’s the same problem as with the proposition from Box. Any position Musk might offer me would represent a conflict of interest with my role as leader of Endure, and that needs to take priority for now. At least until we’ve successfully demonstrated the concept. After that, we shall see.” The power chose that moment to flicker ominously, but the lights stabilized after a brief stutter, and they all looked knowingly at one another.
The conversation moved on from there, with Penny asking Izzy how the training program was progressing. The newest addition to the team gave a quick run-down of the tenets of the personal-security skills that she and Rommie were helping the other teams sharpen, noting that more than the General’s partners, ‘Cricket’ and ‘Brick’, planned to be participating, given that additional security forces were being assigned to other teams in the region. As she brought her summary to a close, Rommie mentioned that any members of their team who wished for some private training could sign up, beginning the following week.
Next, Ava updated the others on the construction efforts, as well as the new physical security measures that had been added to their budding community. In the future, she advised, they should all expect to be greeted and have their identities checked by the security forces manning the gate, at least until local unrest settled down a bit. They’d need to inform the gate guards of deliveries scheduled to occur after dark, as well as any non-resident guests.
Miles was weighing second helpings when Penny cleared her throat, shifting a bit before she announced nonchalantly, “The new mayor reached out to me today,” she said carefully. “Did you know that Nunez appointed Cecelia Meadows as the Mayor Pro-Tem? Anyway, Cecelia wants to resume the advisory council meetings, to try to keep the local businesses engaged and informed.”
Miles stiffened, blanching slightly at the news, frowning as he considered his words carefully. “I can understand why she’d want to continue to keep local business leaders invested in the program,” he opined slowly as he approached his true concern. “Does she realize that at least one former member of the advisory committee was very probably involved in the attack on the former mayor’s team, not to mention ours and the General’s?”
“We did discuss that, yes,” Penny confirmed. “And I was quite frank with her when I told her that, at this point, I wasn’t sure just how much I gave a damn whether the local businesses were ‘on board’ with the program or not. I told her that, given all the shit we’ve been dealing with – the website stirring unrest, the looters, the attack on the Have-Needs shop, that attack on our team - she was fucking lucky martial law hadn’t been imposed and everyone put under lockdown, or worse.”
“What was her response to that?” Miles asked, opting to add a thin slice of the prime rib to his plate.
“She acknowledged that things could have gone that way, or worse,” Penny shrugged, shaking her head. “Miles, she’s in way over her head, and if we want the civilian government to be at all effective coming out of this mess, we’re going to need to help her out somehow. My role as the liaison for Operation Endure might have to expand a bit, to be more of a representative within the Mayor’s Office for Martha’s expanded role here, helping to smooth over any knee-jerk bullshit responses the locals are bound to have to the expanded military presence in the region.”
Miles scowled as he considered her words. It made sense that the local government, in its current depleted form, would need better lines of communication with the Air Force and National Guard elements operating locally. He just wasn’t sure he wanted that role to fall to Penny.
Reading his thoughts through his changing facial expression, Penny waited patiently until she saw his normal, calm demeanor return before she continued. “I told Cecelia that I’d run this past you, and up the chain for approval, but that I’d try to get back to her before close of day tomorrow.” She grinned ruefully as she added, “I actually have an appointment to discuss the matter with Martha tomorrow at 1030.”
“I see,” he replied, eyes narrowing as he realized she either assumed his approval or planned to take the matter over his head. “And if I’d been opposed to the idea?”
Shrugging, Penny rose from her seat and began to gather dishes, offering, “Then we’d figure it out, I suppose, but that would be a bit out of character for you, if you want my honest opinion.”
Without being asked, the two older children joined Penny in clearing away the dinner dishes, with the younger children quickly finishing their plates and joining in the effort. Miles quietly observed their activity as he sorted his thoughts on the matter. After a moment or two more of silent contemplation, he grunted, “I’ll have Clyburn assign you an admin, and I’d feel better if Izzy or Rommie went with you, or assigned you a security detail.”
“Thank you, dear,” Penny bent down to kiss him, before tapping his plate. “Now finish your entrée so we can have your cake.”
Snorting, Miles set to the task with renewed vigor, wolfing down the remaining cut of meat in quick order, with Sean whisking away his plate and knife the moment he took the last bite. Ellie approached him immediately, thereafter, placing a smaller plate, spoon, and fork in front of him, then extending her hand expectantly, silently requesting the fork still in his hand, an impish grin on her angelic features.
Pretending to offer her the fork, Miles surprised the girl by wrapping his free arm around her waist and pulling her in for a quick hug, kissing her on the cheek, before he surrendered the utensil with a mischievous grin.
Giggling, Ellie scampered away to add his fork to the dishwasher. Miles couldn’t help but grin as he watched her go, only to realize that, in his distraction, he’d failed to see Sophia and Maddie slip away from the table. As he looked around, wondering where they’d gotten off to, the lights went out again, casting the room into relative darkness, until Sophia came around the corner from the kitchen, carrying a large cake covered in flickering candles that illuminated her grinning face.
The dining room burst into song as his family all regaled him with an energetic rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’, Sophia carefully setting the cake in front of him. As the singing drew to a close, Jan called out from across the table for him to make a wish. Grinning, he closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them, drew in a deep breath, and leaned forward. Starting with the far left corner, Miles did his best to blow out the candles, only for a handful of them to mysteriously reignite.
A chorus of giggles from the children alerted Miles to the reality of the situation, but he decided to roll with it instead of protesting the rigged candles. Inhaling deeply once more, he made a big show of trying again to blow out the stubborn candles, only to have them flare back to life as before. Feigning dismay, he looked wildly around the room, finally allowing his gaze to settle on the children, who were all covering their mouths, attempting to conceal their mirth.
“Now, why do I get the feeling you guys slipped in some trick candles on me?” he pretended to growl, acting the part of the fool.
Noah and Trent could no longer contain themselves, falling to the floor in laughter, as Ellie and Sean merely grinned broadly, both aware that Miles was playing along. Little Emma was not to be contained, however, as she cried out, “We tricked you!” in between peals of giggles.
“You sure did!” Miles agreed, rolling his eyes and playing silly, while privately enjoying the moment of merriment. “I guess you guys got me good!”
Smirking to herself, Penny reached over to pluck the troublesome candles from atop the cake, immersing them in a small water-filled cup, where they finally sputtered and went out, then removed the remaining candles and began slicing the cake. It was Miles’ favorite, pineapple upside-down cake. Debra pitched in to help, adding a scoop of vanilla ice cream to everyone’s dish to accompany the cake. Once the others had their pick of cake, ice cream, or both, Penny and Debra sat down to enjoy theirs as well.
Silence ruled the table for a brief spell as the nine adults and five children busily consumed the treat, with Miles in particular savoring the cake.
“Mmmm,” he groaned, rolling his eyes. “Penny, I take it you either found Beth’s recipe, or the two of you got this from your mother.”
“This is one of momma’s recipes,” the grinning blond confirmed, a devilish twinkle in her eye. “I remember more than once how Beth claimed she could calm your inner demons with one bite. I’m not sure I ever really believed her before now.”
“Well, I know I’m certainly a fan!” Izzy exclaimed, practically licking her plate clean.
“There’s more if you’d like some,” Penny offered, but the Marine shot her a glare.
“Are you insane? I’m already gonna have to add a mile to my run tomorrow!”
Everyone at the table chuckled at her mock-outrage.
As Miles finished the last of his cake, he noticed Sean and Ellie slip away from the table and quietly head into the kitchen. Pretending not to notice, he patted his belly and leaned back in his chair with a big smile. “Everyone should have such a wonderful dinner and cake for their birthday. Thank you, my dears.”
Penny shot him a warm smile, her eyes making quiet promises, as his other partners murmured their agreement. Moving quickly, she cleared the remaining dishes from the table with help from the younger three children. Ava and Maddie both rose from the table, heading off into the master bedroom, as the older children returned with a couple of wrapped packages, as well as a nicely carved walking stick, the top of which was adorned with the head of a bear.
Placing the packages on the table in front of him, Sean handed him the walking stick, which he now noticed sported a bow and a tag. “This is from me and Ellie,” Sean explained as he returned to his seat.
Miles examined the walking stick, noticing that it had been carved with a trail of footsteps that spiraled up the stick. Every so often, a rounded shield had been placed onto the stick, identifying some camp that he had visited in the past. Near the top, the two had used a wood burner to sear words into the stick, which read, ‘Not all who wander are lost. Scoutmaster, Troop 479.’
“Scoutmaster, eh?” he mused aloud, looking up to them with a question in his eyes.
“We talked to the other scouts,” Sean explained, with Ellie nodding in agreement next to him. “We all want you to be our next Scoutmaster. We took a vote, and it was unanimous.”
“Unanimous, huh?” he glanced back and forth between the two. “Well, I suppose we can arrange for that, but not until after the Blue and Gold, and the Cross-over.”
“Naturally!” Ellie exclaimed. “But after that, we’re all moving up to the Troop, and we’re taking you with us!”
Penny shot them a smile before she wondered aloud, “But if you do that, who will run the Pack?”
“Not you!” Ellie cried triumphantly. “You have to come along to help Dad run the Troop!”
Jan cleared her throat, then added modestly, “Well, since Trent will still have another year in the Pack, I plan to stick around as Committee Chair for one more year. That gives us time to staff up the replacement team for the Pack Committee. I can do double-duty on the Troop Committee if you need me to, until we can get some more adults to step up.”
Before Penny or Miles could respond, Sean pointed to the walking stick, “We also added the bear’s head, since you were in the Bear Patrol when you took your Wood Badge training last year. But there’s a surprise. Push down on the bear’s head.”
Peering at the staff, Miles did as his son had suggested, feeling the bear’s head give slightly, until there was an audible click, and the line spiraling up the staff beneath the footsteps suddenly glowed brightly, eliciting ‘ooooh’s and ‘ahhhh’s from the others, including Ava and Maddie, who’d returned to place a few more wrapped gifts upon the table.
Examining the staff more closely, Miles had to strain to see that its shaft had a glossy epoxy coating running the length of it. Beneath that coating, he could barely discern that a channel had been cut into the staff, spiraling up its length, into which a strand of tiny LED lights had been run, then sealed over. Near the top of the staff, just below the bear’s head, he could see a small sleeve which, when twisted, exposed the battery compartment. The bear’s head covered the switch, which turned the lights on and off when pressed.
“This is very impressive!” Miles was amazed at the quality of workmanship that had gone into making the staff. Turning to his two Webelos scouts, he inquired of them, “Did you two make this yourselves?”
The two exchanged an odd glance, then Sean spoke up, “Well, we finished the work, sanding the staff, then applying the epoxy coating, but Marcus had begun the project back before summer camp. I’d watched him working on it back then, and knew where he’d hidden it from you, so we decided to finish what he started. I hope you don’t mind, Dad.”
Tears welled in Miles' eyes as he tried to blink them away. “Mind! Why would I mind? This is amazing work! I love it!” Setting the walking stick aside, he swept them into a hug, holding them close for several minutes as he tried to regain his composure. Eventually, he patted them each on the back and released his grip, sniffling as he motioned them back to their seats. “Thank you, both of you! This is wonderful.”
Penny carefully took the walking stick from him, smiling gently at him as she did, and nodded toward the unopened gifts. Turning, she leaned the staff against the wall, then returned to her seat, pulling Ellie and Sean into a tight hug.
Miles turned his attention to the next gift. It was a small, rectangular box, carefully held closed with a neatly tied ribbon that ended in a bow. The tag proclaimed that it was a gift from Trent. Working carefully, Miles undid the bow and ribbon, then opened the box. Inside was a bone-handled lock-blade knife. Its blade was made from ladder-patterned Damascus steel with a gleaming edge, and the handle was inlaid with carved bone, having the image of a grizzly bear worked into the material. Tentatively, he found that he could open the blade with just his thumb and close it again one-handed. The knife was simple, yet beautiful – easy to operate, and he found that it was quite sharp, taking a moment to test it on the ribbon.
Looking up, he locked eyes briefly with the boy, uttering, “Thank you, Trent. This is a wonderful knife!” Setting the packaging aside, he passed the knife to his left, allowing his partners to inspect the gift before passing it along. Trent looked quite pleased with himself, and Jan smiled down at him from behind.
The last gift from the children was a large, plain, round box, perhaps twenty inches in diameter, and about eight inches tall. The box was plain but sturdy – matte brown with a subtle grain, sealed with a single strip of tape that had yellowed with time. As he lifted the lid, a faint scent of canvas and cedar escaped, evoking memories of forest trails and campfire smoke. Nestled within, cradled by worn tissue paper the color of old parchment, lay a Scoutmaster’s campaign hat.
Its broad brim curved with quiet authority, the felt a deep olive drab that seemed to absorb the light. A leather strap, polished and worn, crossed the crown like a signature. The hat didn’t shout - it whispered. Of decades of service, of quiet leadership, of standing tall while others found their way.
Beneath the hat, tucked like a secret, was a folded note. Handwritten, it bore the simple words: “Carry the spirit forward.”
Looking at the hat with awe, Miles asked the twins in a soft tone, tinged with wonder, “Where did you get this?”
Shifting nervously, they exchanged a pensive glance before Noah found his voice. “Maddie found it for us in the Have-Needs shop,” the boy answered simply. “She thought it might make a good gift from us.”
“We’re sorry that it’s not new,” Emma chimed in, her chin trembling slightly, as if she were afraid of being scolded.
“Not new? Emma, Noah, this is a wonderful gift! It’s amazing! Thank you so much!” Looking around at the other children, he continued, “Thank you all! Your gifts are all amazing, and I look forward to using each of them!”
Opening his arms wide, he found himself suddenly swarmed by all five, each of them wishing him a happy birthday as he wrapped them in his arms. After a long embrace, he reluctantly released them, allowing them to return to their seats.
Next, Miles turned his attention to the small pile of packages that Ava and Maddie had brought out earlier. Selecting the first gift atop the pile, he read the tag silently, then spoke aloud for the benefit of the others, “This one is from Isabella!”
The other partners all muttered amongst themselves as Miles opened the small package. Beneath the neatly wrapped paper was a plain white box. When he removed the lid, inside was a round object, wrapped in tissue paper. Removing the object, he inspected it carefully, turning it over eventually to view the other side, before he held it aloft for all to see.
The challenge coin was palm-sized and felt heavy to Miles for its dimensions – a deliberate weight, like the memory it carried. Its edge was knurled, mimicking the tread of combat boots worn thin over ten relentless miles. One side bore the emblem of the Marine Corps: the Eagle, Globe, and Anchor, rendered in raised brass against a matte black field. Around the emblem, a ring of text that read: “Earned, Not Given.”
On the other side, a stylized silhouette of a runner cresting a hill, the sun behind them etched in burnished copper. Below, the words: “First Ten. No Quit.” The coin wasn’t flashy. It did not need to be. It represented the quiet acknowledgment that the bearer showed up, pushed through, and finished what they started.
“You earned that on our run this past Sunday, Miles,” Izzy explained with a smile. “Carry it with pride!”
Shaking his head, he smiled, then slipped the challenge coin into his pocket. “Thank you, Izzy. I don’t think I could’ve done it without you pushing me.”
He continued to open the remaining gifts. From Sophia, the plans for a greenhouse. From Maddie, a pair of new running shoes. From Rommie, a hardback copy of ‘The Terminal List’, by Jack Carr. From Debra, a new Red Dot sight kit.
Picking up one of the remaining boxes, he read the tag, then glanced up at Jan. Pretending to rattle the box, he opened it and managed to feign surprise at the contents – an early pregnancy test, with the plus sign clearly indicated. Holding it up for all to see, he couldn’t suppress the big, shit-eating grin that consumed his face.
Rising from her chair, Jan made her way around the table to stand next to Miles, bending down to kiss him, then let him scoop her with a squeal into his lap, where he hugged her for a few moments. Once both had shared a laugh, Jan leaned over to whisper in his ear, “There’s still another gift, sailor.” Standing, Jan moved back to take her seat once more.
Glancing down, he saw a final small package on the table. Miles glanced at the label, then up at Ava, then finally at Penny.
“Oh, well, my gift hasn’t arrived yet,” his blond partner remarked. “Go ahead, open it!”
Glancing once more at Ava, Miles noticed that she appeared both excited and unsure. The young woman appeared to be almost bouncing in her chair. Focusing on the small parcel in his hands, he carefully unwrapped the package as he’d done with the others, setting the paper aside and opening the box, which appeared to be the sort of box one might place a fancy pen set within. Inside, in the middle of the padding, he did not find a pen set. Instead, he found yet another early pregnancy test, this one also indicating positive. His hands trembled slightly at this revelation.
Slowly, Miles’ gaze rose to meet Ava’s. Her eyes were wide with uncertainty, which gave way instantly to joy as soon as she saw his pleased expression. Leaping up from her seat, the young Hispanic woman rushed around the table to be swept into his arms, smothering him with kisses. His other partners cheered, as did the children, all of whom understood that their family would be growing again next year.
***Gainesville, FL – 2230, Wednesday, October 7, 2020***
“You all really had me going,” Miles commented to Penny as they stood outside the front door, watching the RED HORSE crew working diligently to erect the physical barrier around their property. “I almost spilled my tea when McFadden was the first person to wish me a happy birthday,” he chuckled.
Off in the distance, they could see Ava and Izzy speaking with the crew sergeant. The wall in front was nearly complete, with only the façade work remaining. At the foot of the driveway, a double-wide opening had been left in the barrier, which would be filled with a remote-operated pair of heavy wooden doors. Izzy was ensuring that the crew understood the requirement to place the doors onto the home's power circuits, rather than the local grid.
“Well, I’m glad we were able to surprise you,” Penny murmured, casually running her fingers through his hair. Humming to herself, she tugged experimentally at his locks. “You might be getting close to needing a trim.”
“Trim, eh?” He gave her a side-eyed glance. “I’m always down for some trim from my Number One.”
Penny gasped, then lightly slapped him on the chest, a wicked grin creeping across her features. “At ease, mister! Tonight, you have a duty to other booties!”
“I beg your pardon?” Miles challenged in a low tone. “What’s this booty duty you speak of?”
“Well, there are some of your partners who happen to be entering their fertile time,” Penny whispered saucily into his ear, scraping her fingernails along his neck, “and they are interested in joining the ‘baby-momma’ club.”
Miles stifled a choke as he turned to blink at her in surprise. “The what now? ‘Baby-momma’ club?”
“Hey, I didn’t name it,” she playfully defended her words, “so don’t harangue the messenger. For now, though, you should probably go wash up and brush your teeth. Try to make yourself presentable for the interested parties, if you so please.” Grinning mischievously, Penny turned to head into the house, leaving Miles to contemplate his fate as he returned his attention to Ava and Izzy. As if they sensed his eyes upon them, both women turned their heads to glance his way, and he gave them a little wave and a nod before he turned to follow Penny inside.
****
Stepping naked out of the bathroom, having washed up and brushed his teeth, Miles watched as Penny approached him, carrying a small, dark sack in her hands. Reaching into the sack, she pulled out a black cloth blindfold, and with a grin, she began to put it into place. The dark cloth completely covered his eyes, obscuring his vision in the already-dim room. As soon as Penny had finished tying the blindfold into place, there was a pause, and then he felt noise-cancelling headphones being placed over his ears. As they settled into place, he found his sight and hearing both blocked. The earphones completely muffled all sound, so that he couldn’t tell if anyone was talking at all, let alone speaking to him.
A well-manicured hand took a gentle hold of his upper arm and led Miles forward. In his head, he could envision that he was being led to the large bed in the master bedroom. Sure enough, he was stopped, then two hands turned him around and gently pushed him backward onto the mattress. Those same hands guided Miles to scoot back until his whole body was able to stretch out and lie flat atop the bed.
Miles suppressed a shiver of excitement as he waited, realizing that, while he was effectively blinded and deaf, this only sharpened his attention to his sense of touch and smell. He could smell the women nearby, and with a bit of focus, discerned the distinct odors associated with each of them. He was keenly aware of the scent of their shampoo, or their perfume, but he was even more aware than usual of the other scents coming from them. Scents he associated with their levels of arousal. Scents which, in turn, aroused him even further.
He felt the mattress shift beneath him as he was joined on either side. He was startled at first, then tantalized to feel a single fingernail as it traced, ever so gently, across his skin, eventually to be joined by another. First, they moved along his limbs – his arms and legs were traced by hands unseen. Then, maddeningly, his torso, bypassing his loins. Fingernails became fingers and palms as the hands began to rub his flesh. When he tried to return their touch, they moved to pin his arms beneath their legs until he obediently remained still. Eventually, his teasing tormenters gave way to licking him in various places, then blowing hot or cool breath along his moistened skin. He felt gooseflesh rising along his skin in their wake, and shivered again.
After what seemed like hours of tantalizing contact, at last the mouths of his lovers got more serious. One person began to kiss a trail from his shoulder toward his jawline as another dragged her tongue along his loins, until finally his manhood was engulfed.
As he arched his back to moan, Miles’ outcry was stifled by a mouth, tongue probing deep into his, groaning along with him. Below, the mouth on his cock was joined by a hand, stroking slowly while winding up and down along his manhood. The disparate sensations, absent sight and sound, were maddeningly intense.
Just as Miles began to wonder if the woman giving him head intended to have him finish in her mouth, she withdrew. The mattress shifted under him, and he felt another, different pair of lips descend to engulf his rigid pole. At the same time, the woman near his head rearranged herself until he caught the heady scent of her sex as it lowered to his face. Miles barely had to tilt his head to reach the dewy petals above him, flattening his tongue to drag it along her contours.
He still could neither see nor hear his partners, nor was he allowed the use of his arms, but he was certain that, if he could, he’d have seen them moaning and writhing in ecstasy, as they enjoyed him, much as he in his turn was enjoying them. Above him, the woman who’d been hovering over him slowly allowed herself to settle down upon his face. This enabled him to more deeply explore her hidden recesses, swiping and scooping her flavor as if his life depended on her for sustenance.
Further down, the woman riding atop him began to roll her hips, and he started to feel the telltale quivers and shudders running up and down the walls of her channel. He knew that he was also close to his release, but strained to withhold until his lover had achieved her peak. It had become a point of pride, really, if a bit stubborn. He did not want to ever rely on his own climax being the cause of theirs. It was important to him that he get them there the ‘old-fashioned way’, at least the first time, each time.
At last, he felt the lover riding his manhood sink down low upon him and hold still, her walls clasping rhythmically at him, and he allowed himself to join her. Searing jets suddenly burst forth from him, causing her to jolt as if electrocuted, quivering and shaking upon him as he emptied himself into her.
The woman straddling his face hunched forward slightly, and he felt his face being drenched with her fluids. She leaned forward just enough for him to work his arms free, and Miles wasted no time reaching to steady her, holding her in place as he continued to flick the tip of his tongue rapidly along her clitoral hood, further increasing her level of stimulation.
In almost no time, he felt her shudder again, more forcefully this time, as she reached a second, higher peak. Her thighs squeezed tightly against his head, and suddenly she spilled away from his grasp, out of his reach.
The mattress shifted beneath him as his lovers moved around, until he felt a hand grasp his still-firm shaft and grip him tightly. The hand stroked him back to full hardness, and in no time, another lover was lowering herself atop him. Only this time, she leaned forward, bending down to kiss his as they fucked. The tightly curled locks of hair draping around his face let him know this must be Maddie. He was startled to feel a tongue running along his ball sack, up his shaft until it lost contact with him.
Given the suddenly vigorous movements of his new lover, he concluded that the other woman must be orally assaulting her backside. He was quite glad for the assist, as he knew he’d be ready again soon, and the oral ministrations of the other woman were likely going to get his current lover off even faster.
Sure enough, barely a minute had passed until he could feel the muscles of the vagina currently engulfing him begin to tighten, quivering in that oh-so-familiar way. Maddie never stopped kissing him, but began to drop down upon him harder, slamming him up into her as forcefully as she could. He could feel himself brushing her cervix with each thrust, which was bringing him close along with her.
Suddenly, he felt a strange sensation of pressure along the ventral side of his cock. It took Miles a moment to realize the other woman must have stopped tonguing Maddie's ass and instead had inserted one or more fingers into her bunghole. While it felt odd at first, it certainly served to assist Maddie, who began spasming and jerking atop of him as she writhed in climax.
Miles allowed her a moment to enjoy her peak, then permitted himself to reach his own conclusion. Maddie had just begun to settle down when contact with his spend drove her straight into another, more powerful orgasm. He felt as much as heard her screaming into his mouth, until her lips left his and she moved down to clamp her lips at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, where she bit him. Not hard enough to break the skin, but she clamped down upon him and held herself there as she shook and quivered, speared upon his spewing shaft.
Following several moments of shivering and heaving, the body lying atop him settled down to lie still. The other woman slipped into the crook of his right arm, nestling against them both, and Miles brought his left arm up to embrace Maddie. As he lay there, he realized that the shampoo he’d been smelling was Sophia’s. It made sense – they’d entered his life as a couple, and had often enjoyed sharing him in the past. He smiled to himself, hoping that he’d given them as much pleasure and satisfaction as he’d derived from them.
And maybe he’d managed to knock them up, along the way. This thought brought him strange comfort.
***Gainesville, FL – 1630, Thursday, October 8, 2020***
Miles felt his phone buzzing in its holster on his belt and reached down to see who was calling. Seeing it was Penny, he answered the call, putting it on speaker and setting it on his desk. “Hi, Penny. I’ve got you on speaker phone, and Martha and Chandini are in my office.”
“Hi, all. It’s probably for the best you’re both there, as you’d want to hear part of the news,” Penny’s voice crackled through the cellphone speaker.
“Penny, how close are you to FOB Waldo?” the General asked. “If you’re close, could you come to Miles’ office and brief us here, instead of on an unsecured line?”
After a brief pause, Penny replied, “Of course, General. I can be there in a few minutes. See you then!”
The call ended, and the line went dead. Miles stowed his cell phone, then returned his attention to the previous conversation.
“My apologies for the interruption, Major,” he offered. “Please continue your report.”
Major Swami waved her hand in a mildly dismissive way, clucking to herself as she riffled through the stack of papers in her binder, finally stopping at one and squinting slightly. “Okay, here it is. Lead plaintiffs for the group have filed a complaint in the US District Court, Gainesville Division, alleging constitutional overreach and subsequent harm to – and I quote – ‘all residents and heirs whose homes and properties were seized under Operation Endure’. The complaint goes on to specify that the alleged overreach violated the due process and equal protection clauses of the Fifth Amendment, and they are requesting relief in the form of compensatory damages and the return of all seized properties.”
General Palmer snorted derisively at this last part. “Return to whom? The properties that were seized belonged to owners who had died during the pandemic. Do they really expect that normal rules of ownership would have been followed, including exhaustive and time-consuming measures to locate and communicate with surviving heirs? This is patent nonsense!”
“No, Martha, this is exactly what I’d expect from someone like Abelard,” Miles growled, his face darkened with constrained anger. “Under normal circumstances, I’d completely agree with the plaintiff’s position, but we all know these hardly qualify as ‘normal circumstances’.” Bringing his hands to his face, Miles rubbed at his eyes, his headache beginning to distract him. “Chandini, was there any indication as to the identities of the plaintiffs? Was Abelard one of them?”
“Yes, and no, Miles,” the exotic JAG Officer shook her head, her frown failing to significantly dampen her natural beauty. “The attorneys will have to disclose a comprehensive listing of ‘affected parties’ during the Class Certification phase, where they must show enough people were affected to justify a class treatment, shared legal or factual issues across the group, the claims are typical across the class, and that the lead plaintiffs and their attorneys can fairly represent the class. The lead plaintiffs, in this case, appear to be several of the local business owners, but Abelard’s name is not among them.”
“That fucker!” Miles balled his hands into fists. “I know he’s behind this, but he’s keeping out of the spotlight.”
“It doesn’t matter, Miles,” Palmer groused, pinching the bridge of her nose, attempting to contain her own frustration. “Something like this was bound to happen. It probably would have elsewhere along the way, had the pandemic not been so fast-moving.”
“Martha’s correct, Miles,” Chandini reaffirmed. “A case like this was bound to come along. It was just a matter of when and where. Well, now we know that it will be here, and now.”
“So, what comes next?” he asked, concern in his tone. “I don’t want all of our progress suddenly sidetracked by an overzealous judiciary bent on legislating from the bench. I can almost guarantee that, once these newly formed teams begin popping out babies in the next eight or nine months, our alternatives will go to shit quickly. And this will hit right at the start of the next hurricane season. Can you imagine if we had to resort to massive tent cities and found ourselves in the path of one or more major storms?”
“So, as I mentioned, the court will have a hearing to determine whether or not this case rises to class standing. But don’t get your hopes up,” she cautioned the two superiors, “It does, and they will find that it does. So, after that, the government’s response will be to file a motion to dismiss, based on the emergency powers that have been declared.”
Miles brightened at that last part, opening his mouth to pounce upon this point, but Chandini waved him aside again. “Don’t get your hopes up. This case is going to move forward. Too much is at stake not to allow it to receive a full hearing. So, the District Court will allow the case to proceed, and we’ll spend time in Discovery. The only hurdle we’ll have to overcome at this point will be any suspension order that might come down from the bench, forcing us to stop work.”
“What happens if the court orders us to stop?” Martha asked, envisioning the alternative Miles had just laid out.
“At that point, the government would automatically appeal to the 11th Circuit Court of Appeals,” Chandini replied quickly, wanting to reassure the others. “Don’t worry. I can assure you that this case will go to trial, but I can also assure you that the government will not want this to go public before the rest of the Pandemic-related facts have been officially made public knowledge. They’re going to allow this to go forward, but there’s going to be gag orders aplenty, backed by threats to quash if the Plaintiffs don’t abide by the rules.”
Just then, there was a knock at the door, and Penny entered the office, looking visibly upset. Miles stood up from his desk, but held a finger up to his lips, indicating that she should remain quiet, then motioned for her to shut the door.
As soon as it was shut, he moved quickly to embrace his partner, then pulled up a chair for her to sit next to the others. As soon as he’d retaken his seat, he nodded to her, silently inviting her to speak.
“Are we good to discuss things here?” she began, glancing around.
“Yes, Penny, but we don’t want to have to worry about Miles’ or your assistants being compelled to testify about anything they might overhear,” Major Swami explained.
“Let’s get to it,” the General suggested in a resigned tone. “What happened at the advisory council meeting?”
“Well, not as much as I’d hoped,” Penny began, her face creased with stress. “I’d planned to quickly review the status of the training sessions at Santa Fe Community College, but we had some late arrivals who disrupted the agenda. Namely, George Duffy and Doug Winston, plus their attorneys. Fucking pricks served me and everyone else on the council. Afterward, they tried to order us to immediately cease and desist all activities associated with Operation Endure, claiming that they were in the process of taking us all to court. I mean, they can’t do that, can they?”
“Take us to court? Yes, they can do that,” the Major cut in. “Order us to stop? That’s for the courts to decide. And, in this case, I’m pretty sure we’d get an immediate injunction of relief from the 11th Circuit, given the surrounding circumstances.”
“Then why do these douchebags seem to be operating under the impression that they can shut us all down?” Penny asked, looking to each of the three military officers for a response.
“I suspect they may be overplaying their hand,” the General grumbled, leaning forward. “Was there anything else that happened, Penny?”
“I hadn’t gotten to that part yet, but yes,” Penny confirmed, an icy edge to her voice. “Mayor Meadows called the meeting to a close after those douchebag lawyers finally left, saying she needed to consult with her attorneys. So, we called it a day, but when we went outside, there was a large crowd of protesters swarming the place. I don’t know where they came from, but they arrived en masse sometime after I’d gotten there. I’d estimate there were more than two hundred of them, all holding up printed signs and chanting their shit. It was way too organized, if you ask me. There’s some serious money involved in all of this, and I can’t believe it’s all being coordinated locally. Here, take a look – I took some pictures with my phone.”
Penny opened the photo gallery on her cell phone, then slid it over to the others to see the photos she’d taken. As she’d described, numerous individuals were holding up professionally prepared signs. They all agreed that the event gave every indication of having been staged professionally.
“We need to figure out who’s funding all of this,” Martha declared, punching her fist into her open palm. “The attorneys, the depositions, the protestors, all of it. Something here’s not adding up.”
“I agree,” Miles spoke up, leaning forward suddenly to reach for the phone. “Hang on – let me see that!”
Taking the phone, he swiped back once, then used his fingers to zoom in on a particular shot, glaring at the photo for a moment. Finally, he set the phone down and turned it so the women could see what’d caught his eye.
As the three of them leaned forward to examine the photo, Miles pulled out his own cell phone and dialed a number. As soon as the call connected, he placed it on speaker. “Special Agent Gleeson? It’s Captain Davies. You’re on speaker phone. I’m here with Major Swami, General Palmer, and Penelope Sommers. We’re looking at Henry and Hank Abelard in a photo that was taken downtown by Penny within the past ninety minutes. They were seen in a large, brown, late-model Dodge Ram Crew Cab. Florida plates, but I’ve only got a partial – the first three characters are November Victor Eight.”
“Late-model, brown, Dodge Ram, crew-cab. Got it. Any other details I should know, Captain?” the Air Force OSI agent’s voice asked clearly across the ether.
“They were observing a very conveniently-timed protest downtown,” he supplied. “It feels like they were watching to evaluate the impact, like an arsonist at the fire.”
“Got it,” Gleeson replied. “I’ll get agents down there right away, Captain. And I’ll run this Dodge through the DMV to see where that leads us. Thanks for the tip!” The line went dead.
Penny reached for her phone, shaking her head in disbelief. “Are you fucking kidding me? Those monsters were right there? Doing what? Watching the chaos that they’d initiated?”
“You’re thinking about this too rationally, Penny,” Martha Palmer said, an angry edge to her voice. “I’m pretty sure those psychos are just as Miles suggested – acting like arsonists, watching the fire they set. What disturbs me more is how many resources they must have access to for all of this to be happening.”
“Exactly,” Chandini agreed, holding up her hand, “First, they had to keep young Hank alive, so they had to get a few doses of the serum as well as females, willing or otherwise,” she raised a finger to track the point. “Then, they had to have someplace to lie low that we don’t know about,” she ticked off another finger. “Then, they had to have some deep pockets, or access to someone with deep pockets, to put together this class action lawsuit,” another finger. “And you can’t just astroturf up a protest like this one without some funding, let alone how they were advertised for or recruited.” She fully opened her hand, then let it drop back into her lap. “This seems awfully well organized to me,” she opined, looking back and forth between Martha and Miles for confirmation.
Miles was nodding, but Martha seemed to have more questions. “I agree this appears to be well organized, but to what end? Who stands to gain the most by disrupting Operation Endure? What’s the motivation? The endgame?”
Miles was silent for a long moment before he offered up, “Maybe we’re looking at this the wrong way.”
“How do you mean?” the General asked. “What are we missing?”
“I think maybe Abelard and his associates are more radicalized than we’re prepared to consider,” he proposed, his gaze focused on something beyond the walls of his office. “I think some of this began well before Operation Endure. As I recall, Abelard was an outspoken critic of the COVID lockdowns and actively advocated for folks to resist the government’s policies, calling them gross overreach. He’s still following that pattern, but he’s escalating matters, big time.”
“Does Abelard not understand that, without so-called government overreach, the human race would pretty much be extinct?” Palmer asked, clearly offended by the notion.
“You’re operating from a level of knowledge and reason beyond the norm, Martha,” Miles suggested. “Look at it this way – we know that our country was becoming more and more divided, politically as well as culturally, leading up to the pandemic. What if this is just the next step in their plan, wanting to create chaos and disruption, intentionally casting the government as the ‘bad guys’,” he air quoted with his fingers. “What if Abelard and his cohorts have become radicalized by overall, national events, beyond the pandemic. What if they’re doing what they can within the limits of the current lockdowns and constrained communications and news to foment anarchy? They could be attempting something akin to a color revolution, like the CIA’s Arab Spring a few years ago.”
All four of them sat in silence, contemplating his words. Eventually, Martha spoke up. “Miles, do you believe that this Abelard is capable of planning something that large in scope?”
“Alone? It’s tough to say,” he responded after some contemplation. “Probably not. But if he were already engaged with others in such activities before all of this shit started, it makes sense that they’d want to exploit all the confusion. The secrecy... the silence that keeps everyone from knowing what’s really happening, lends itself to the paranoia they are fomenting. Through all of the clandestine, behind-the-scenes actions our government is taking to get out in front of DuoHalo, we’re inadvertently playing into his plans, providing him with invaluable ammo to use against us in the court of public opinion.”
“Fuck,” Martha spat, looking genuinely angry. “So, meanwhile, his son and the other so-called ‘Swamp Boys’ get away with murder, and we can’t disclose those details any more than we can go public with the vaccine program. Just fuck!”
“I suggest we attempt to focus our efforts on apprehending the Abelards, and then attempt to discern who else is involved, and who their enablers are,” Chandini offered, working hard to remain emotionally detached.
Martha struggled to regain control of her outrage and was eventually able to nod in agreement. “That’s sound advice, Chandini. Let’s see what Special Agent Gleeson can do to help us with that.”
The group sat in uncomfortable silence for a few moments, each of them contemplating this latest turn of events, before Penny leaned forward in her seat, turning toward the General. “Martha, how is David doing? You brought him home yesterday, right?”
“He’s doing well, thanks for asking,” the General replied. “Skyler is still in the hospital – she’s starting to come around, but her physical therapy isn’t to the point she can come home just yet. Alison is acting the show-off, zooming around in her powered chair, and trying to keep everyone’s spirits up. Cricket... sorry, Tech Sergeant Moreno, stayed home to keep watch. I think I need to give her an update after we finish here, all things considered.”
“Definitely,” Miles agreed, while privately noting that Martha seemed to have a much softer tone when referring to the other partners in her husband’s team. Progress.
“Well, if we’re done here, I think I want to gather my crew and head home for the day,” Miles announced, making a show of checking his watch. “The RED HORSE team starts laying foundations tomorrow, and I’ve got a personal project I need to do final prep for.”
“Miles is going to add solar panels to the main house this weekend,” Penny faux-whispered to the other women. “He’s worried there may be unrest on the horizon.”
Chandini grinned and shook her head, while Martha leaned over and stage-whispered, “Anyone ever tell you Miles is too smart for his own good?”
The three women shared a giggle, then Martha added, “Seriously, don’t let David know until you’re done. He’d kill himself to check out what you’re doing, ‘cause he’s mentioned before wanting to steal some of your sustainability ideas.”
“Our lips are sealed,” Penny replied, pantomiming zipping her mouth shut.
After the Major and the General had departed, Miles and Penny embraced, just taking comfort in each other’s arms. Eventually, Penny leaned away so she could watch his reaction as she spoke, “So, Debra swears you’re a great fuck in your office. Wanna prove it to me?”
Before Miles could answer, there was a knock at his door. Stepping back, Miles called out, “Enter.”
The door opened, and Sgt. Clyburn leaned in. “Excuse me, Captain, but I just got a call from the gate security detail over in your neck of the woods that there’s some sort of a protest group shaping up outside the gates. I’ve already contacted Gunny Lopez, and she and Special Agent Davies are en route from the range. They should be here in a few moments.”
“Thank you, Janice,” Miles said, feeling himself starting to tense up. “Go ahead and pack it in for the day. I’ll go grab the rest of my crew and see what’s going on.”
“Aye, aye, sir!” the Air Force non-com touched her forefinger to her brow and departed.
“We’d better get home,” Miles said to Penny. “This doesn’t sound good.”
As Miles moved for the office hatch, he saw Penny texting furiously on her phone.
“Anything I need to know?” he asked her, pausing for a moment in trepidation.
“I was alerting Jan to get her and the kids gathered and prepare to take shelter, that’s all,” she said, as she put her phone away. “Let’s go.”
****
As the tiny caravan of vehicles turned off of Waldo Road and onto NE 53rd Avenue, the lead vehicle suddenly came to a halt, forcing Miles to stand on the brakes in his Beast. About a hundred yards or so out in front of them, he could see a large gathering that looked similar in composition to the protesters that Penny had photographed earlier that day. Looking at the gathering, he saw identical, professionally prepared signs being toted, and beyond the crowd, parked in the RV lot on the south side of the road were multiple buses.
Directly in front of him, Gunny leaned out to inspect the situation, then got back behind the wheel of the Hummer she was driving, and moved slowly to close the distance. Miles lagged a bit behind, concerned that Izzy might have to brake suddenly, depending on how the crowd of protesters reacted to her approach.
Sure enough, before they could get within fifty yards of the gate, the crowd moved to block their path, screaming and chanting with passion. His phone buzzed, and he answered using his vehicle’s Microsoft Sync Bluetooth receiver.
“Miles, it doesn’t look like they’ve breached the gates, but this crowd could get out of control quickly if we press them,” Izzy’s voice proclaimed clearly through his stereo speakers.
“I agree, Izzy,” he concurred, scanning the crowd. “For now, this is meant to be an irritation, but we’re not prepared to deal with things if they turn violent.”
“Sit tight, sir,” she advised. “I’m putting in a call for backup. They’ll be here in a moment.”
“Holy shit! It’s them!” they heard Rommie exclaim over the phone call.
Miles could see her moving to exit the lead vehicle, clearly agitated by something she’d seen.
“Rommie, stay in the car!” he barked, not wanting his team jeopardized.
“Dammit, Miles, it’s Abelard! Father and son! Both of them! In that brown Ram!”
He could see Rommie, still in the HMMWV, but leaning out to point ahead and just slightly to the left. Following her gesture, he peered off in that direction, past the swell of the crowd, and was able to make out the vehicle, the same one Penny had captured in a photo earlier, with two blurry occupants in the front.
“Well, shit!” Miles said, gripped suddenly by anger and indecision.
****
