Brynhildr nodded. “That, along with my bow, arrows and throwing axes. At least enough weapons to put up a fight until the cavalry arrives.”
She turned around. “Can you unzip this bridesmaid dress? The zipper seems to be stuck.” David walked a bit stiff legged over and worked the zipper. He broke it free and it went down easily to the small of her back. He got a glimpse of sheer panties and he jumped back.
Brynhildr felt the results of David’s efforts, turned and looked a bit impishly over her shoulder. “Saw something that surprised you, Agent?”
David blushed a bit. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but like they say in Texas, you are right purty.”
The Shield Maiden laughed. “Getting a compliment from a man is not wrong. Nor does it offend me.” She walked toward the bathroom. “You have a lady friend, Mr. Jackson?” Brynhildr tossed over her shoulder as she entered the bathroom to change into her “work” clothes.
“No Ma’am. Please, call me Dave. Mr. Jackson is my father, Ranger Jackson.”
Byrnhildr pushed the door partially shut and stripped off her bridesmaid dress in one smooth motion. As she began the process of putting on her tactical pants and boots, she called out, “I have a lot of young friends who are looking for a good, stable man. Is that you, David?”
“I try to be, Ma’am.”
“Call me Brynhildr. It is settled, then. I will introduce you to some of my friends when we have some spare time.
David Jackson laughed. “You always take charge, don’t you Brynhildr?”
She laughed. “If I waited for most men to take action, I’d be old and gray before anything happened.”
The Shield Maiden stepped from the bathroom and went to gear up with her weapons and tactical vests.
I’ll flip you for first watch.”
“No need to, Brynhildr. Your choice, you’re in charge. I’m easy.”
Brynhildr cocked an eyebrow. “You’re easy? Alone in a room with a young woman with all the right equipment?”
David blushed red. “Damnit, you know what I mean…”
Brynhildr laughed long and hard.
“You men are all boys. Easily embarrassed. You take the first watch after we set up the monitors and cameras. Hopefully, it will be a quiet couple of days. At least, for us.”
.
Abigail looked at herself in the full-length mirror by the front door of the honeymoon suite. It seemed whoever had built this room had decided people should be able to check themselves out before leaving. Ichiro was waiting on the huge king sized bed in the equally large room. Abigail was fascinated with the opulence of this pre-Strike room. Some of her memories of what had been available over six years ago, before the Tschaaa showed up, were a bit faded. This hotel reminded her what had been lost to much of humanity.
The “special” negligée Aleks had helped her select fit her perfectly. Dark navy blue garter belt, stockings, high heels, and thigh length sheer see thru robe exenterated every sensual part of her body. She had left her panties and bra in the suitcase, her full firm chest and buttocks needed no support. Besides, she felt a heat between her thighs for which panties would do nothing.
She blushed, felt a slight pang of fear. She was a virgin. She had been schooled by Aleks what to expect, but was still scared.
“Don’t worry,” her big sister had said. “Your body will help tell you what to do. Your love for Ichiro and listening to me will do the rest.”
Aleks took a deep calming breath, then let it out. Now was the time.
She slow walked to the bedroom entrance. The only light on in the room was a small table lamp next to the bed.
“Abby, you are coming in?” Ichiro asked. Slowly Abigail entered, her breathing speeding up with excitement.
“Yes, my love,” she answered. Then she blurted out, “Ichiro, I’m scared I will disappoint…” She stopped herself. Ichiro saw her hesitation, heard her fear, rose from the bed and walked to her.
“Abby what are you…” He stopped in mid-sentence. Abigail had never allowed him to see her near nude. Now it seemed to stun him. “Abby,” he whispered. “You are so beautiful. I cannot believe… you do look like a perfect woman.”
“You’re just saying that,” Abigail said as she looked down. Then Ichiro raised her chin, gently kissed her. The gentleness turned into need as Abigail heard and felt herself moaning.
Aleks was right. Her body knew what to do with her true love.
She kissed him long and deep as his strong hands caressed her body with a gentleness she had never known. Then she caressed him, her hands reaching up under his silk bedtime kimono finding the special spots of desire and feelings. Ichiro sucked his breath in as he separated from their kiss.
“Someone has shown you the arts of love and desire.”
Abigail giggled, her fingers caressing his body. Now she knew the power Aleks had mentioned. A woman could always control a man’s lust, if taught right.
Aleks was an excellent teacher.
“Abigail,” Ichiro began to moan a bit.
His new wife pushed Ichiro backwards until they fell onto the bed.
“Aleks told me that if I… was on top the first time, I could control…things better. Prevent any initial pain or discomfort, from being a virgin.”
“As Americans say, you are in the driver’s seat, my love.”
Abigail straddled Ichiro’s hard body. It was if their bodies had been made for each other. There was a momentary slight pinch, then a rush of heat. Their bodies went directly to a matching rhythm as their lust and desire rose.
Abigail looked down into Ichiro’s eyes. ‘This was worth the wait. I do so love you.”
“You are my everything,” the Samurai answered. He pulled her face to him, kissed her.
A couple of cries and moans, and Abigail collapsed on top of her husband.
Ichiro stroked her hair, kissed her neck, and began to taste her sweat with his tongue. Abigail responded, began to kiss and caress him more.
“Again, Ichi. Always again. You are my perfect lover. I want more!”
The two lover’s bodies again began to respond. It would be a long and enjoyable honeymoon night. As it should be.
As Ichiro and Abigail were becoming as one in the marriage bed, Torbin and Aleks were back home with their sons, two dogs, and all of the wedding gifts. It was not long past nightfall, and the offspring of Sgt, Fuzz, Freya and Young Fuzz were restless. They wanted out one minute, then in the next. The two young human sons were also becoming restless, agitated, as if they could sense the dogs emotions. Torbin stepped out into the backyard and stood quiet, listening. Something seemed a bit off. He went back into the house and went to talk to Aleks, who was trying to put the two boys down to sleep.
“Husband, I need your help. You were able to calm them in the womb. Please try now.”
Torbin went to the twin cribs, side by side, and put a hand on the stomach of each of the two little Marines. “Hey guys. Sleepy time. Relax. Dad’s here. Nothing will bother you.”
Within moments, the two less than one year olds quieted down, began to drift off to sleep.
Aleks hugged her husband gently. “I don’t know how you do it, Torbin. You have a calming touch.”
“Well, I try. Step out into the hall way for a moment, let them drift off.”
The parents of two of the first children born with some alien introduced characteristics stood out in the hallway and whispered to each other. “Aleks, I want to go to the firing range and gym with you in the morning. I’ll call Sue Brown, see if she can come over to watch the trolls.”
Aleks frowned. “Why tomorrow morning?”
“Spidey sense, dearest.”
“Spidey? Oh, that’s right. That super hero from the comics. Again you act like you never grew up.”
“Well, it’s the easiest way to explain that my Murphy’s Law detector is tingling. I get the feeling something involving Abigail, Ichiro…or someone else connected to the base is about to happen, go wrong.
I want to be up and ready, near extra weapons.”
Aleks looked at her husband. She then squeezed his hand. “Alright. I can tell if I do not say yes, it will drive you crazy. Call Sue. We get up, get our gear, go to the range and the gym .If nothing happens, you will have to make it up to me, wait on me, breakfast in bed, or something like that.
Torbin smiled. “Always the hard deal maker. But what if I am right?”
Aleks shrugged. “Then we deal with it before it deals with us, and our children. Call for help. Whatever it takes.”
Torbin kissed his wife. “Anybody ever tell you that you are the best partner a man could have?”
“Flattery will get you everywhere, my husband. Now, get ready for bed. Make sure the dogs are calm, see if they will sleep quietly next to our sons. Then you owe me some alone time in our bed.”
“Anything you say, Aleks. Anything you say.”
“To the General’s office and residence?”
“Yes, Aleks. The President and…”
A bullet smashed through the windshield as a motorbike rocketed past.
“Hang on.” Aleks reacted in an instant, crushing the accelerator to the floor. Their SUV was one of the last ones produced with a large Hemi V-8 just before the rocks hit. It responded like a raped ape as Aleks twisted the wheel to follow the motorbike. Torbin was soon holding on to the small passenger side handle for dear life as the SUV roared up and over sections of grass and flower beds, Aleks ignoring the normal roadway.
“Where in the hell did you learn to drive?”
“Spy school, husband. Where else?”
Both the driver and passenger on the motorbike seemed to have missed the concept that if you shot at someone and did not kill them, they may try and chase you down. The motorbike driver was going hell bent for leather, heading toward the administrative and headquarters offices where the General’s combination quarters and office was located. They acted as if they were fixated on the mission to reach that area, not paying attention to anything else.
The rear passenger turned around, saw the SUV gaining on them, and started shooting wildly. Aleks chose that minute to cut across a grassy area with the rise in the middle, the roadway curving around the area. The vehicle was up, over the curb, and then airborne off the elevated ground.
“Shit!” Torbin yelled as he realized all four tires were off the ground. Aleks began cursing in Russian. Then the motorbike was beneath the front wheels of the vehicle as the heavy SUV landed on it and the humans riding it. Aleks locked all four wheels as she slammed on the brakes. How she did not flip the vehicle, Torbin would never know. The SUV finally slid to a stop, the motorbike trapped beneath it.
Aleks beat Torbin getting out of her seatbelt and exited the vehicle. As Torbin started to exit his side, he almost stepped on the protruding head of the now deceased motorbike passenger. He noticed it was a “she” now that her helmet was off. She was definitely dead. Both she and the motorbike were crushed under the weight of the SUV. Aleks’ loud cursing snapped his attention back to his wife.
Some twenty yards out from the SUV and trapped motorbike was the supposed driver. He seemed to be trying to rise, but his limbs and body were at odd angles to each other. Before Torbin could say anything, Aleks had pulled her combat knife out and jammed it into the base of the skull of the driver. The man was dead in an instant.
“Hey, it would have been nice to ask him some questions, dear,” Torbin commented.
Aleks used her now bloody knife blade to brush driver’s long hair from his neck. “See? Kraken tattoo. No need for questions, he is Kraken scum.” With that remark, she spit on the body.
“How dare they attack me and mine, again. Now, we will reap what they sowed.”
Tobin examined his wife for a moment. This was a side he had not seen in action. Aleks noticed he was looking at her as if trying to figure something out.
“You are looking at me as if I am under inspection. What is it you want, husband?”
“I guess I am used to the mother of my children Aleks, not Aleks the warrior.”
“It is the same Aleks, my love. Just two sides of the same coin.” She stooped down and took a large caliber revolver from the dead man’s belt.
“As your President has said, sometimes we women, mothers must be she-bears. We must fight like them to protect our family and friends. And I was a soldier, a spy before I met you. Now, I use those skills to protect you, our children, the President’s, yours and mine.” She handed the recovered revolver to Torbin.
“Here. Comrade Stalin said you can never have too much ammunition or too many weapons as long as you can still move. Especially when we are at war.”
Torbin took the weapon, then smiled. “Well, I did know I was getting an unusual package when I married you. I guess I always hoped you would never have to demonstrate your skills.”
“Sometimes we get what we need, not what we hoped for, my love. I needed a crazy Marine and I found one. Now, shall we continue on to General Reed and the Presidents?”
Torbin pointed at the SUV and the punctured radiator and oil pan spilling their contents.
“Not in that. It’s bought the farm.”
Aleks shrugged. “Then we use our legs. I have worked hard to get back into shape. This will tell me if I have succeeded.”
Both of the warriors recovered their gear from the wrecked SUV in record time. As Torbin readied his “liberated from the Pits” M-1 Garand, Aleks grabbed him and kissed him hard.
“For luck, my sweet. I think we may need it for the two kilometer run to General Reed’s headquarters.”
“You mean about a mile and a half.”
Aleks snorted. “Someday you Americans will join the rest of the world in the 21st century and the metric system. Now, we go.”
Madam President was finishing up hobo omelets for General Reed, George Williams and Russian President Alina Federov. She had demanded they let her fix them breakfast after the previous day’s festivities. Now, as she did her magic in the full kitchen General Reed had constructed in his combination Generals Quarters and Office, the sound of the Alert Klaxon was heard through a cracked opened window.
“What?” Alina Federov said as she gave John Reed a quizzical look.
“Alert klaxon. Let me call…” The General never finished the answer as the Security Control hotline rang. He picked up the phone. “General Reed here…Yes, Captain. Eaters? And Beasts? You called for a full recall? Good. Keep me posted.” He hung up the telephone, his face grim.
“Madam President, if you and the others could step away from the windows, we seemed to be under a general attack. Grab your stuff and we’ll head for the shelter in the basement…”
An explosion nearby shattered office windows, showering the room with glass. George was instantly on top of Madam President, taking her to the floor. “Damnit, George. The omelet’s ruined.” The muffled voice of Sandra Paul came from under the large covering bulk of her assistant. “Now, can you get off me, please? I’m fine.”
George moved and helped the President to her feet. General Reed went to his desk and removed a General Officer’s Model .45 Automatic with a spare magazine.
“We may not be able to make it to the basement shelter. I’m going to check downstairs first, you stay here…”
“I’ll go with you, John.” George said.
“No, you need to stay here and make sure these two Presidents are safe in case someone gets past me.”
“General Reed, stay here with us,” began Madam President. “I can’t allow you to go downstairs alone. Your security forces should be here any minute…”
“Goddamnit, Ma’am, no!” General Reed exploded. “The fact the windows were blown out tells me we have a major breach in security, and they are attacking to kill you two.” He stabbed his fingers at the two female Presidents. “I should have foreseen this, increased security around us. Hell, I should have gotten off my dead ass and gotten some of those 3D disposable assault rifles Pappy Gunn has manufact
ured up here, along with bullet proof glass. But I was too wrapped up in watching Abigail get married.”
He began to move to the doorway to the hallway and the stairs. “Now, it’s my job as a soldier to protect my President.” He looked at George Williams. “I’m depending on you, George.”
“What, you think we women are helpless, fragile things?” It was the firm voice of Alina Federov. “This Cossack sword I have here is not just for show. It is a sharpened weapon I know how to use. And, if you can get me to my vehicle, there is an assault rifle and a pistol in the trunk.”
The Russian President presented a wry smile. “You think this is my first, how you say here…rodeo?”
John Reed chuckled. “I forget we have a tough Russian General here. Okay, President Federov. Let’s see if we can get you to your car.”
“If I had not been soft and gave my driver the day off, he would be here also, General.”
It is what it is, President Federov. Madam President, please stay here with George while I and the former General here go a soldiering, as they used to say.”
The U.S. President looked at General Reed. “You get yourself hurt, and I’ll be very angry.”
“That is the farthest thing from my thoughts. George, stay frosty.”
“You got it, John.”
General Reed and the Russian President moved quickly to the hallway and down to the main stairs. The office and living quarters of General Reed were on the top third floor of the former Wing Headquarters Building of Malmstrom Armed Forces Base. So, anyone trying to get to the officials would have to find the stairways and come looking through two floors to find them. However, the layout of the building was no state secret, so anyone with even a rudimentary plan would know to head to the top floor first. Which is what happened.
General Reed and President Federov met the two raggedly-looking motorcyclists as they were trying to run up the stairs. They were not trained soldiers as they were paying more attention to moving up the stairs than to possible threats around them. Thus, John Reed saw them first, and drilled the first one through the head before either of the alleged Krakens knew what happened. The second one tried to stop in mid stride and shoot. John double tapped him in the unprotected chest, the now dead attacker toppling backward down the stairs.
Typhoon of Steel Page 31