Predator Ch. 04

Acheson was more mindful of something else he heard in her voice. She had just surrendered to him, in effect submitted to his authority. She had told her girls to obey not her commands, but his. She was depressed, perhaps from the tranquilizer, but she was compromised emotionally, and he needed her strength right now.

"Your airplane," he said to Sandy, then he motored back in his seat while he undid his harness. "Come with me," he said to Rutherford, and he took her by the hand, led her aft to the toilets by the forward galley. He pushed her inside, felt her flaccid response, then turned her face to his --

And he slapped her, hard.

He saw the sudden fury in her eyes, the trembling lips of uncertainty, then he bent to her and kissed her with all the passion he could muster. She responded instantly, and as passionately, digging her fingernails into his back.

"You know me so well," she whispered in his ear. "It's like we were born to love one another. I feel it in my bones."

He held her close, then he felt her fumbling with his belt, pushing his trousers down. He knew where this was going, felt himself falling over the edge of the abyss, then he was entering her, helping her legs encircle his waist. Her mouth open beside his, he heard her breath mingle with his own, felt all his fear turn to inverted lust, then he put his mouth on hers, driving into her, fear to lust, lust to need, then an infinite release.

"I need you," he heard himself say, a coarse whisper at first, and he felt her shuddering orgasm as he added "I want you."

"I am yours, forever," she sighed, her legs pushing him deeper as they came down.

"And I need your strength, so don't leave me again," he said as he kissed her a few minutes later.

"You need to call Genie," she said. "Warn her, get her headed south," then she went to her knees and began cleaning him with her mouth, taking him in, swirling his need with hers, and a minute later his knees began to buckle, his back arched -- and he felt himself coming undone in her mouth, and he held her head while she cleaned him again, then his hands went out to the walls, holding himself up against all the contradictions he felt flowing through his veins on the way -- into her.

+++++

It doesn't take a brain surgeon to figure out some things, and when I looked at that Acheson kid I could see it all over his face. Mid-30s, in command of an airliner, re-captured by the very same women we thought we'd captured just a few hours before. That Russian girl up there? How did they do it? I told Tate as soon as I got back to my seat, then Liz and Persephone were leaning close, listening to every word that came out of my mouth -- like it was the last thing they were ever going to hear.

Then Acheson comes out of the cockpit with that Rutherford woman, his face set in stone, like anger, only worse, then that bitch. Like she's in heat. Lips puffed up, breathing deep, then he's in that bathroom and then the walls start shaking. Like the fucking starting gate at the Kentucky Derby. Then he walks out of there a minute later and the front of his slacks look like Monica Lewinsky's little blue dress. Then she crawls out of there, cum running down her legs and looking like she'd gone ten rounds with Ali. I swear, I'd do anything to be thirty years old again.

Then Tate's looking at me -- like 'what the fuck?' -- as in: what's going on up there?

Then Liz leans over, tells us to be cool, some kind of dominance game was going down, that Acheson was taking control of Rutherford, and it hit me then. We're like dogs and cats, the birds and the bees. We're nothing but hormonal drives and dominance dances, not a helluva lot different than Frigate Birds on Midway Island, or gorillas in an African mist.

Anyway, Liz starts looking at me all goo-goo eyed and hands me a Viagra, and I'm like, 'Really? World War Three is breaking out, and you want to get laid?'

Then I'm thinking about it. Yeah, you know, if the human race wants to go out with a bang, well then, what the fuck. Why not get a woody and duck into the head, join the Mile High Club? Then Sephie is looking at me, her lips all puffed up and I'm wondering, like, if there's room for three in there...and will my heart be able to take it?

But really? Why the fuck not?

Know what I mean, Jelly-Bean?

+++++

Acheson climbed back in his seat, noticed the SELCAL light chirping away and slipped on his harness, then put on his headset. He scanned the panel, then he flipped the circuit and listened to the message -- through the headset this time. Headquarters had activated Case Epsilon. War, probably nuclear war, was considered imminent, and all pilots were now ordered to land at the nearest open airport. He listened to The Lord's Prayer coming over the circuit, then shut it down and took off his headset.

"What was it?" Rutherford asked.

Acheson shook his head, bent over the keypad on the Flight Management Computer and entered 'LPLA' -- then watched data stream onto his PFD, the Primary Flight Display. A prompt came up: "Execute?"

He sighed, hit the button on the keypad, and the aircraft banked hard to the left, then settled onto the new course.

"Lajes?" Beach asked. "Why?"

"We're two thousand miles from Bermuda, six hundred from the Azores. We'll lose GPS signal any time now, they'll be encrypted. There's a storm off the east coast, it'll sock in Bermuda by the time we get there, and without GPS I'm not sure we can shoot an approach there."

"Why will we lose GPS?" one of the ninja said.

"It's SOP when launch of ICBMs is considered imminent."

"Oh sweet Jesus," he heard the girl whisper.

"Yeah, if you're the praying sort, now's the time to get on your knees and pull out your rosary. Sandy, write down our coordinates, the coordinates for Lajes and start a DR plot, the faster the better."

"Okay," she said, her hands shaking now.

He scanned the horizon, saw something far off to the left. "You see that?"

"What?" Sandy said.

"Ten o'clock, a little high."

She peered around the center-post, squinting just a little and he smiled, then turned back to the panel.

"You know, I see three aircraft, maybe four..."

An alarm sounded, then another.

"Alert! Collision imminent, turn right!"

Acheson toggled the autopilot and pushed the yoke down and to the right.

"Something's not right," he said as he re-engaged the autopilot, then the alarm sounded again. "Alert! Collision imminent, turn right!"

He looked out the windshield again, looked aft as far as he could, then he smiled, relaxed -- as four F/A-18F Super Hornets pulled up alongside the port side of the 777. He signaled 121.5 to the lead pilot and switched COMM 1 to the emergency frequency.

"American 3-8 Heavy to Diamondback Lead."

"Lead here. What's with all the evasive maneuvers, Captain?"

"Collision alert sounded. Sorry about that."

"You headed to Terciera?"

"Yeah. How many of you are there out here?"

"Whatever's left of the air wing from the Papa Bush. We had about half my squad up when she was hit. Low yield nuc, torpedo we think. Subs in the Atlantic were ordered to MFD about twenty minutes ago."

"What's MFD?" Rutherford asked.

"Missile Firing Depth."

Another alarm hooted, and Acheson looked as the GPS SIGNAL LOSS banner flagged on his PFD. "Fuck," he whispered, then he toggled his mic, "Okay, D-Back lead, we just lost GPS. You have encrypted sets in those birds?"

"Yup. I suppose you want to follow us?"

"You got enough gas?"

"Yeah, we just tanked. Another section is tanking east of here. You military?"

"Air Force, reserves now. C-17s."

"Rank?"

"Major."

"Well hell, look who just assumed tactical command?"

"Swell. Okay lead, why don't you scoot up ahead, leave a couple back here with me."

"Alright, 3-8 Heavy. Out."

He turned to the ninja, looked them over and shook his head. "You know, where we're going, if you get off this airplane dressed like that you're likely to be run out to the nearest wall and shot."

The girls looked at each other and nodded, then peeled off their suits.

"What about me?" Rutherford said."

"What do you mean?"

"What are you going to do about me?"

"I haven't the slightest idea. What do you think I should do with you?"

She frowned. "I think you should try to get in touch with Miss Delaney."

"And The Duke," he added.

*

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