Vanishing Manhood: Part 19

A Global Manhunt.

Based on ‘One In Ten’ by FinalStand. Listen to the ► Podcast at Explicit Novels.

 

Time is like an overhanging snow wall in the depths of winter. Most times, it looms large yet does nothing. Other times, it comes at you like an avalanche.

If I had to stage a scene to depict a smuggler's hangout, the Deep-Six Saloon would have been it. What I was seeing, though, was a bit more terrifying. See, Flame had barely begun her spiel, offering up the bogus bank accounts the Vanishers were providing, when Mama Ripley and her two daughters dropped the hammer on her.

"You've got the cure," Monica, the mother of the two sisters softly stated. "We want to see it."

"Who told you that?" Casper had tried to bluff her way through.

Flame knew it was pointless, though. These three ladies were lean on trust. It was why they had escaped law enforcement for so long.

"Show them Israel," she told Casper.

"I'd rather not. Besides, who told you;?"

"Big M. Maria. Maria Keverich. She's broken out of prison and coming this way," Sonia, the oldest daughter informed them. "She seems to be in a big hurry, too."

"The Plague is real," Flame shrugged. "Either you get cured, or you get dead."

"The fuck you say," Aria, the youngest joined the conversation.

"Straight up," Flame shrugged once more.

"So, how does this 'cure' work?" Monica took over.

"He fucks you, gives you his seed, and you are immune. These people," she indicated Casper and the other Vanisher in the room, "have tested it and it works."

"How did you test it?"

"On live samples of this new plague. The Israel Cure wiped the Plague out; completely. We can do a blood transfusion and make the three of you immune as well."

"Nah," said Sonia grinned, "we'll go 'old school'."

"You want him to fuck you?" was what Casper decided they meant.

"Yeah. We even got a picture of him. He's kind of cute and his reviews are stellar. This may by my final fuck, so I want to go out in style."

"What about Maria?" Flame grinned.

"Well, once we have you across the Big-Mo, we'll let her know you stopped by. Then we are going to make a hiking trip out into the wilderness for a few days; maybe a week, or two. When we come back, we'll see what is left and go from there," Monica related.

"There's not likely to be much left," Casper pointed out.

"Sure, but I might just be ovulating. Maybe a change of careers might be in order," she chuckled. "Then I could have a little squealer all my own."

"Let's get this over with," Casper growled.

"I want to be there when you explain this to Israel," Flame chuckled, instead. "He's going to just love this 'bargain'."

"Hey, we aren't ugly; and we've bathed; this week," Aria countered.

"Yeah, but Israel is a treat. Wait until you talk to him," Flame kept snickering.

"Does he have a small dick?" Sonia frowned.

"Oh no," Flame burst out laughing. "Shit, you may have trouble walking afterwards. Just ask that Sano-chick."

"She's here with you?" Monica grinned.

"Oh yeah. Israel is a loyal bastard alright. He's got a whole female posse with him right now; Plus; these heavily armed chicks."

"Let's get to it," Casper announced, then spun around and walked out. The second Vanisher walked backwards, covering their withdrawal.

And that's where I came in;

"You want me to do what?" sort of spilled out, when Casper brought me up to speed.

"Yes, and time we don't have is being wasted," she confirmed.

"You can't be serious?" Angel jumped in.

"I am and I'm terribly sorry about this, Israel. I am."

"Go knock 'em out of the ballpark, slugger," Flame slapped me on the back.

I stumbled forward when she did so; and then I kept walking toward the saloon's front doors. In I went, and gradually the noise, other than the sound system blaring out some tune I was unfamiliar with, died down.

"Over here," a figure waved to me from the back of the establishment. On I went, conscious of several of 'my' team coming along behind me. I walked back, amazed that my two warring emotions kept me surprisingly steady. Right off the bat, I was terrified. These women looked Rough! Violently so. On the other hand, I was enraged by the circumstance I found myself in.

I needed to pass on my antibodies to the people I loved most first; Aniqua, Capri, Roni and Samantha; not these total strangers. I seriously wanted to go over to them and start slapping the smirks off the two oldest ones' faces. The youngest one merely looked; sexually curious.

"How is this going to work?" was what I came up with first, as opposed to something asininely stupid.

"Let's go."

The three stood up from their chairs and headed for a door shrouded in shadow. It didn't have an 'exit' sign over it, so I was somewhat hopeful this wasn't the lead into a kidnapping attempt. No, instead the doorway led to a small back room with another door; this one with an exit sign; a small, 4-person table and a cot. Angel and Casper swept the room first then took a seat at the table. I had no idea what my reaction would be to this situation.

I still hadn't gotten over the death of Lowry after all and that was some nightmare-inducing shit.

"Don't act so tense," the woman said. "I'm Monica Ripley, by the way."

"Israel Jensen," I reciprocated.

"Well, Israel, let's get to it," she said, with a hungry smile.

"Why are you doing this?" I had to know.

"Huh?"

"Why do you want to have sex with me?" I elucidated.

"You are a fine-looking young man." She lost some of her predatory edge, becoming more womanly.

"Really?"

"Well; I'd also like to live." She began disrobing.

"You can do that with a blood transfusion," I pointed out.

"Fine, if the lights are really going out, I'd like a child; you know, to accompany me and my other daughters when we start repopulating the world. Could even have another son this time."

"Oh," I suddenly didn't feel so bad anymore, put at ease by that most womanly of virtues; motherhood. "Let's see what we can do about that then," I added, while starting to shed my clothing, too. I had to convince myself I could do this. These weren't horrible women; not like Flame, Little-M, or Isobel Diaz.

"Oh," I repeated, "that's some nice body art." In fact her tattoos helped distract me from the deed I was about to commit.

"Why thank you," the then-naked Monica regarded me. "Except for some bruising, you have a hella-nice body too. Work out much?"

"Every day for one hour, plus sometimes in the morning before work; if I feel stressed."

"From what I understand stress has become a rather common occurrence for you," she smiled at me; this time almost playfully.

In response, I brushed her hair over her shoulders, first left, then right. I think it caught us both off guard when I leaned in and kissed her. That one kiss led to several others, which finally resulted in our crashing down on the cot. The springs tried to revolt against our impact, but failed to collapse. The bad-ass extortionist; giggled. Yeah, giggled. Afterwards, screwing Monica and her daughters wasn't so bad after all.

North Wheeler Recreation Area, Missouri River.

Here we were, at our last serious terrain barrier and I was feeling giddy. Contrary to my elation, Casper and company were hellishly on edge as this would be an excellent spot for an ambush; far from civilization, out here in the dark, lit by a crescent moon and a starry sky. My ladies were feeling equally pissed, I was being used as currency. As we worked the pontoon boat down toward the water's edge, we had every one of 'my team' as well as Casper's team and three other Vanishers.

The other six Vanishers were out there, somewhere; keeping watch in the night, seeking to avoid said ambush. So far, there was nothing except the songs of night birds and the howl of a lonesome coyote. As it stood, we had four trips to make from where they were to the South Wheeler Recreation Area. Trip one would be the first Hummer plus Jethro and his ride.

The next trip would be the second Hummer, including Barabbas and me. The third Hummer with Casper's group plus Pierre followed after, with the fourth Hummer (Dusk, Luna and Thorn; I had finally learned their monikers) coming across last of all.

It was only as we were preparing for the fourth Hummer to cross that our luck finally hit a 'bump'. A drone, flying nape of the Earth, came up the Missouri making slow progress. Thanks to Casper's paranoia, we had warning, giving us advanced notice of the threat before it was upon us. It didn't do anything suspicious as it flew over us, nor did it come back for a second look.

I would have been happy with that, if I hadn't been told by Casper some really unwelcome news. This drone wasn't in the Federation inventory. It belonged to the Bolivian Air Force and was the harbinger of some really bad shit about to fall upon us all, and by 'us' I meant the entire Federation. Had the Federation been acting in a coordinated fashion, this wouldn't have been a threat, but we weren't.

Spotted By Drones.

Instead, we were, indeed, spotted and with that, the Bolivian and Caribbean Federation forces made their final preparations to launch their air assault against the one force standing between them and me; the province of Texas. Texans could read a radar screen just as good as anyone else in the Federation; and they were alerting the surrounding military districts about the hate-on coming their way in the form of the entire fucking CFS Navy.

Behind that naval armada was an even larger airborne force; the combination of everything the CFS and Bolivians could put into the air. Their plan was to lay a carpet of destruction between the coast of Texas into the interior all the way to the Middle Rocky Mountain Military District; which was also one of the poorer MDs resource-wise. In fact, between our little convoy and the edge of the Middle Rocky Mountains District was only one regular ground combat unit; the 90th Security Forces Group.

As a final ignominy of the night, as the Bolivians and Caribbean Federation launched this 'unprovoked' attack, the 'thing' the 90th SFG guarded were put on alert. The thirty non-nuclear, multiple-warhead ICBMs were about to receive orders to rain down hell on the CFS and Bolivia because the Joint Chiefs of Staff had finally realized what this war was all about; the Israel Cure.

Accordingly, a Nasa weather satellite deviated from its course and angled toward the closest Bolivian surveillance satellite, drew close and then exploded using directional charges which shot-gunned tiny metal fragments into a lethal cloud which took out the Bolivian target, momentarily blinding their efforts to keep track of Casper's little convoy. It was that satellite which had led the drone to us crossing the river.

Before anyone at Space Command could celebrate, three Bolivian satellites were seen closing the distance to the Federation surveillance satellites attempting to do the same thing to the Federation; blind them to what the combined enemy forces were up to. Simultaneously, the missile frigates in the CFS fleet had finally sped within range and unleashed their payloads at pre-selected targets. The war had come to Earth.

If there was anything positive for the Federation in all these cascading events it was that the Lower Mississippi Regional Military Commander decided war trumped politics and threw her full support and weight behind the Texans; more planes and airmobile units were on their way. Mexico and 'Ole Mexico'; with the Defense Minister; followed suit.

Despite being outnumbered and outgunned, Fleet Veracruz began racing to catch up with the CFS flotilla. The Southern Atlantic Fleet was neither outnumbered nor outgunned. She rerouted her course and headed straight at the CFS itself, the Central Atlantic Fleet was going all out, trying to catch up. With so many women rushing straight into harm's way; the knowledge would have paralyzed me. Lucky for me, none of this was publicly known yet.

Unfortunately, the Bolivians had one last trump card to play. Already the long-range stealth helicopters were racing north toward their target. The elite commandos aboard the three aircraft knew the chance of their mission reaching their target was minimal; the Federation capital. Their chance of survival was nonexistent, yet they had all volunteered for this mission; Bolivia's only real chance to succeed in this war.

Hunting The Hunters.

The pontoon boat brought the last Hummer across; plus one; Aria Ripley. Her mother and older sister had sent her across hoping it would increase her odds of survival in case; things got even worse. Well, unbeknownst to us, Monica Ripley launched a drone of her own; a much smaller model, of course; and gone hunting for that first drone.

She shouldn't have bothered. Once she was alerted to the presence and general location of the opposing drone, Jen had begun to hunt down its signal and prepared to jam it. Sure, her jammer was relatively low powered, but she was within a few kilometers of it, while the Bolivian drone-driver was way back in the CFS. The second the drone went from controlled flight to an AI search pattern, the Vanishers gave it a surprise of their own.

A Manpad wielded by Zara. There it was, the Bolivian drone, circling beyond the scope of our nighttime vision, but not that of Casper's ever-present drone. Zara's missile announced to her trained ear the 'beep-beep' of a lock-on, then she fired. Back in CFS, the drone-driver had just a second to realize it was being hunted; before she lost control of her 'bird'. It was blown to bits before she could reassert her control.

For both our convoy and the Ripleys' it was time to make a hasty exit. Those on the east bank of the Missouri; well, they made that dreaded phone call to Maria Keverich before they pulled their own vanishing act into the Pine Ridge Reservation. For those of us on the west bank, it was on to Winner, lights out and IR systems activated.

My own trip was complicated by Aria wanting to sit on my lap. Despite the rush, our sex had been enough to leave her panting and on shaky legs. Undoubtedly, she attached some level of romance to our coupling, despite it being enforced by blackmail. I didn't tell her this; what would have been the point, except to make her miss her family more?

While I could tell she was terribly anxious and afraid, my lap belonged to Kuiko, so Kuiko gave up her seat; each Hummer had been configured as 'troop carriers' with six total seats; to Aria and gladly took up her station on top of me. Kuiko sensed my sense of loss and confusion, so opened her armored vest and gave me some nipples to play with; she was so warm, enticing and what I wanted most right then.

The ride out of the 'recreation area' was rough. That wasn't surprising since the natural playground hadn't seen regular traffic in decades. To make things more comfortable for Kuiko, I began to run my hands all over her body. There we were, she in my lap so that we were face to face, snuggled in; then the kissing began.

First it was a few kisses by me onto her forehead and temples.

She reciprocated with kisses upon the top of my sternum and neck. Within two minutes, we were in a deep, French kiss, dispelling the gloom and doom around us in our own little 'love bubble'. It felt wonderful. As I had told Kuiko just three days ago, I thought this was the way men and women were meant to be. In love, and passionately displaying that for the whole world to see.

"Love, love, love," she giggled.

My hands caressed her lithe back from the bra-line to the firmness of her butt cheeks; just wonderful. I could tell when we finally hit Highway 18; the bumps lessened, though the swerving became more common. While it got more traffic, Highway 18 was still a backroad, not well maintained at all.

Still, it was then a straight shot to Winner and the far better kept roads which led to Federation Highway 90; our straight shot to Rapid City and resupply, or so we hoped. Our military-grade batteries were dangerously depleted, we needed more food and something to drink as well. Last of all, we didn't want to be on the road come daybreak. The race was on for us to find some place to shelter before the sun found us vulnerable, out in the open for all to see.

Shirley's Diner, Winner, South Dakota.

Despite the early hours; their declared opening hour was six AM; Shirley's was packed, mainly with 'take-out' orders. They were for people heading east, somehow hoping to get past the quarantine on the Highway 44 Platte-Winner Bridge. It was already shut down to all traffic and enforced by some National Guard unit, but still people kept trying to cross. The traffic jams were horrendous.

"Okay," Casper warned us. "We are looking for reinforcements here, so keep your eyes open and your hands on your trigger guards."

"Are you going to give me a gun?" I knew I sounded incredulous.

"Yes, Israel, but it won't be loaded, so no need to freak out," she answered.

"What if someone shoots at him?" Angel frowned.

"We make them dead."

"Done deal," Angel responded.

"Let's go and keep those engines running. This had better not take long," Casper declared, before our diminished group went in. The Vanishers had to keep one team member in the driver's seat and the other manning the copula so they could only spare four coming in. That meant 'my group' had to contribute some members. I had volunteered and stunningly, Casper said 'yes'.

Angel had my back, along with Wes with one group, while Casper had Capri and Luna in the other. For some reason;  and then I saw them just as they saw us; it was Dimple's team! Dimple's team plus Freya and her infant son; who was currently breastfeeding. Fraklos was the one closest and she jumped up and came right at me in a hurry.

"Fucking 'A'," she chortled, shaking her head. "It would have to be you."

"How did you know to meet up with us; and we have to go right now," I took her hug, bit down on my fear of being touched by strangers, then turned her half around and began retiring from whence I came. I guessed since the last time we had been together at GNN studios, she really had helped me escape after all;  so;

"Enola contacted Mary Wollstonecraft and they steered us here," Fraklos clued me in on our convergence.

She waved everyone over, and we all rapidly made our exit outside to our waiting rides. We had drawn some attention, but the local law enforcement must have already been hellishly overtaxed, so no one, officially, was bothering us. Besides, not counting Jethro's motorcycle, ours looked like a small military convoy. In short order, the former-FBI contingent mounted their two stolen rides and off we went.

Our problem was one of power, or lack thereof. Our Hummers would need a recharge sometime in the next four hours; sooner, if we were forced cross-country. It was Kuiko, who stepped up and told Casper she had 'connections' in Rapid City, who might be able to help. They had a private electronic hook-up on site of their business; the Rapid City Hotel and Casino;

"Kuiko, who do you know who works in a casino?" I inquired. As far as I could figure out, it was most likely someone in food services, or a dealer if she was lucky.

"I;  um;  my grandmother manages the largest casino back in the city," she meekly confessed.

"Wait a second," Aniqua's voice broke over the frequency. "How much does your grandmother make a year?"

"Upper six figures, I think." She looked so embarrassed.

"Does she hate you?"

"No."

"Let me get this straight;  nine months ago, when we were struggling to make rent after that disastrous shopping trip;  and we had to eat raman for six days straight; nothing but raman breakfast, lunch and dinner; and you had a relative, who could have lent you the money?"

"Yes, but I don't like being dependent on her for that," Kuiko pled her case.

"All that's nice, but who do you know in Rapid City; precisely?" Casper interrupted.

"Well, Charlie Sano is the floor boss, and Sakura Baker is head chef. They are both my cousins."

"Do they know you?" Casper pressed.

"I'd hope so. I see them every family reunion, and recently, I graduated to the adults' table. Before that, I was one of the babysitters," she explained. "Oh, and they send me Christmas presents every year, too."

"That will have to do," Casper grumbled. "Please recall we are making this plan up as we go along, everyone. Humping our way across the Black Hills and most of Wyoming would truly suck for most of you."

"Humping?" I wasn't alone in asking.

"Marching," Casper enlightened us to her military jargon.

What was unspoken in all of that was the reality that most of my women couldn't keep up with the pace Casper and company would set, nor could Jethro and his two ladies. Since the Vanisher wouldn't leave me behind, that could spell a really bad standoff when the first of mine dropped down and couldn't get back up.

Kuiko's 43

The four long hours it took us to reach Rapid City had our hairs standing on edge. Behind us, the world slowly devolved into chaos and violence. In a desperate effort to hold the Missouri River quarantine line, the EMM had the Air Force and Air Force Reserve blast the secondary bridges, all up and down the river line from Kansas City north to God knows where. It seemed like such an impossible task.

If there was one saving grace, it was that the provinces of the Middle Rockies had never quite recovered from the first round of the Gender Plague, so there weren't too many people throwing themselves at the barricades this time around, or this early. Already people from California and the Pacific Northwest provinces were starting to head steadily eastward, as news of the spreading outbreaks radiated out of central California.

As we exited Winner, this reality became omnipresent for all of us. All roads heading east were crowded, or getting that way, while lanes heading west were almost entirely deserted. Here and there were RVs heading toward the great wilderness regions of the Middle and Northern Rockies and Mississippi provinces to either pass their final days in nature, or in an attempt to have the plague pass them by. I wished them luck in either case.

As a plus, I was allowed to spell Zara in the copula and use her binoculars to scan the horizon, looking for threats for a few hours, while she garnered a cat nap. Kuiko curled up with a blanket on the floor space and gained her own measure of sleep. The skies remained clear mainly because, little to my knowledge, only the Bolivians and Caribbean, realized we had evaded the Missouri quarantine and were booking it westward. The rest were playing catchup, realigning satellites, and sending their own military drones out westward in an effort to locate us. Even Mother Nature appeared to be in our favor.

A storm front was rolling off the Rockies on its way to the Gulf, spawning tornadoes and dropping torrential rains in its path. All we received was dark cloud cover from about seven AM on, but that was a serious help as well, with high winds making drone driving exceedingly difficult, especially from half-a-world away.

Zara informed me, that while we were invisible to optical satellite imagery, they could still pierce the cloud cover with SAR (Synthetic Aperture Radar) to track us. Our grey, ghostly images could still be spotted racing off in the opposite direction of saner folks; the ones trying cross those bridges. Still, Jen and a few other Vanishers, could spoof SAR too, given enough time. Time; time; time;  all we needed was more time.

Likewise, I didn't know that Big-M Keverich was reaching out with all her tendrils of influence and criminal underworld contacts to also locate how far west we had made it, as well as figuring out our final destination. Thanks to Flame and her utter destruction of Industrial Maintenance Welding, Isobel Diaz didn't have the name 'Jethro MacFarlane' to toss out there, though she was curious about her inability to locate Francesca Silverhorn; who seemed to have vanished off the face of the earth.

By the time my name percolated to her ears that afternoon, the Morning Sun killings there were old news and we had put hundreds of kilometers between that abysmal incident and her reach. Worse, the Airmobile Division, while being sent in the right direction, was removed from her control as the EMM needed those professional warfighters to start blowing up bridges over the Missouri and limiting traffic over the few which would currently be permitted to remain.

By the time the formal declaration of war rolled around at four PM, they were doing just that. The two Ranger battalions were still in her arsenal, but the capital was getting awfully curious as to why they weren't moving their way as commanded. The regional military commander was running out of excuses and was clearly on the cusp of declaring herself in rebellion by temporarily siding with the Minister of Defense, thus the Civilian Government; initiating a civil war.

Black Hills.

It was drizzling in Rapid City when we rolled into town. The sky was dark enough that most of the street lamps were alight, though the area was still under a tornado watch as well. There was remarkably little traffic in the streets. Most businesses had closed early, though most supermarkets, and gun stores, remained open. The casino was on the north side of town, yet even the two passing Rapid City Police cars paid us little mind.

I guess we looked official and to be moving with a purpose, so they assumed we were on some errand for someone higher up the chain of command. Besides, they had their own host of problems to deal with, not the least was the growing number of 'Vigilance Committees', aka neighbors banding together for self-protection and to control local resources;  like supermarkets.

One such 'Vigilance' outfit was stationed around the casino itself, and they didn't appear to want to give way to Casper, despite whatever bullshit she was trying to sell them, or the heavy ordinance she possessed. Kuiko popped up and took off so quickly, I was remiss in immediately following her.

Before I could rectify that mistake, Zara put a hand on my shoulder and said, "No, you don't."

I could still make out what she was saying though.

"Hey. Can I speak to Rufus?" she asked the lead tough-gal; with her assault rifle.

That person spoke into their walkie-talkie and then we all waited. If possible, Kuiko looked even cuter, as the rain plastered her hair to her head and her clothing to her body.

About five minutes later, this tall, robust Black woman came striding up to the entrance and, after taking one look at Kuiko, smiled and greeted her with a hug.

"Kuiko, what are you doing; here! As opposed to back home where it's safer?"

"Ah; long story. These are my friends and we need someplace to hold up, while we refuel and get a bite to eat. I swear we have all come from the city and haven't been talking to any strangers in the past three days," sort of spilled out of Kuiko's mouth.

"You sure about this?" 'Rufus' eyeballed Casper, then the rest of our expanded convoy. She gave Jethro the twice over.

"Yeah. Oh, and I want you to meet my boyfriend," Kuiko blathered.

"Oh, the aunties are going to love that," Rufus laughed. "Kuiko's got herself a man." Then to the rest of us, "Come on through."

The second the other women on watch helped move the concrete-filled trash cans out of the way, we drove around the back of the casino to the carpark; a three-story structure. Due to their size, the Hummers had to be stored in the VIP parking (normally reserved for limousines) which had the benefit of placing us under some hard cover and invisible from above.

Once parked, we made our way indoors; three Vanishers remained with the vehicles; and I was able to catch up with Kuiko at last.

"Rufus; Raphine, actually; this is my boyfriend, Israel," she blurted out.

"Israel; popular name," she joked. "You've been in the news; a whole lot. Why don't I have you meet up with the manager, while Kuiko, here, reacquaints herself with her kinfolk?"

Right then, four young girls came squealing out the side entrance and swarmed Kuiko, calling her name and demanding to be picked up.

"These are my cousins," she informed me; us. "This is Little Shiro, Akari, Hayami and Kohaku," she pointed out each one in turn.

"Are you Auntie Kuiko's beau?" Akari questioned me.

"Yes. Yes, I am; Akari, right?"

"Yes, that's me," she beamed.

"Scoot, you four," Rufus commanded. "Israel here needs to see Miss Mulroney and Auntie Charlie."

Then, to me, "Miss Mulroney is the general manager and in charge, since none of the owners have made it here yet. Charlie is the floor boss; oh, and I'm head of security."

Of course, the kids wanted to tag along, claiming to be so bored. They didn't take into account all of the guns which had surrounded me once more. Flame chuckled, while Kuiko appeared very nervous. Casper was a cypher as were Wendy and Zara. Angel and Carpi quickly sent the others on a 'food run', while Casper had the other Vanishers begin the refueling process.

That accomplished, we all packed into a large elevator and headed up to the highest floors in the adjoining hotel complex.

"You won't need your guns, folks," Rufus advised us. "This is just a meet and greet. As I said, Kuiko is family and known here. She is vouching for you. Keep that in mind."

"Where is Sakura?" Kuiko worried.

"Her Reserve unit got called up so she's at Ellsworth, probably preparing meals for the whole damn 90th by now," Rufus answered.

"Oh yeah. She always wanted me to join up to;  you know;  if this welding thing didn't work out," Kuiko moped somewhat. "I hope she stays safe."

"Well, the 90th has top-flight medical facilities, plus they are rather isolated. As long as they all come in okay, they should be able to ride this storm out as well."

"By storm;  you mean the plague?" I asked.

"Yep," Rufus nodded.

"Ah;  are your employers likely to want to turn me in;  you know, to the government?"

"Which Government?" Rufus snorted. "The governor, the military, or what's left of the civilian one?"

"Point taken," I had to grin. "Things are really a mess."

"Not my problem anymore," Rufus stated. "The casino is in its own quarantine now and that's where I draw the line. Anyone off the property is no longer my concern; less they are family."

"Well, with any luck we won't be bothering you for much longer," Casper riposted.

"Who are you with?" Rufus asked.

"10th Special Forces Group," Casper replied, "though my current assignment means I won't be seeing any of those gals ever again."

"Pity. The whole world is going to crap; showing everyone the importance of family and what that means."

The elevator doors opened. I barely noticed Zara placing herself and her armored body between me and danger. Rufus led the way down the hall to a double door with a lone armed guard stationed there.

"Janet, come to see the boss," Rufus addressed the guard. 'Janet' nodded then stepped aside. Rufus opened the right-hand door and we began to file in.

"Well, as I live and breathe," the woman behind the awesome desk stood, as I entered; fourth in line, "Israel-fucking-Jensen. Welcome to my casino."

"Thank you very much," I responded. "Your hospitality is much appreciated.

"Glad to hear it. I'll make it simple. How many pints of your 'special' blood can you afford to give me?"

"Can we consult my medical specialist?" I blinked at Miss Mulroney's abrupt nature.

"Sure. One would be nice, two would be great. We will use our state-of-the art medical facility here to do it in, of course. We have the centrifuges as well, so all I need to know is;  are you sure he has the 'Cure'?"

"One hundred percent," Casper stepped up, and pledged. "We have already tested it against this new plague and it was remarkably effective even, with minimal parts per billion."

"Can this be replicated in our population?" she asked next.

"Not sure. As far as we know, it is limited to males of the species, but we haven't had the medical team to ascertain this."

"Damn, I'm an idiot!" Casper suddenly exclaimed. "You don't need to put Israel through this again and so soon. The past forty-eight hours have been pretty horrific for him. Why don't we have all the ladies he's slept with donate a pint, instead? They have a healthy dose of his antibodies and giving one pint of blood shouldn't be that debilitating."

"I like your idea," Mulroney nodded. "How many women are we talking about?"

"Kuiko, Angel, Venus and Aria," Casper mentally went down that list.

"I would prefer we not draw any blood from Freya," I added. "She is nursing her infant; her male infant."

Mulroney nodded.

"Four pints of the Israel Cure should do us just fine. We only need to inoculate the children and those most at risk; those who are going to have to go out and raid other places, when our stockpiles run low," the manager mused.

"I gave blood Wednesday," I confirmed.

"Yes, and Brandi says due to other concerns, we would really prefer him not be required to give again so soon," Casper tacked on.

She must have contacted Brandi via her headset, put on a 'private' channel so the rest of us wouldn't get spooked, or bothered.

"Let's get to it," Mulroney came around the desk. "You round up the ladies in question, and I'll make sure medical is ready for this. I can't say how much this will do for morale here. Things were looking pretty bleak."

"Any cases here in Rapid City yet?" I had to ask.

"Not yet, but I don't think the provincial government shut down the airport soon enough. We were getting planes in here from points west until late last night."

"If everything works out okay, maybe I; we can double back in a month with more of the 'cure'," I offered.

"We'd appreciate that. We'll keep you abreast of the situation here, so you don't walk into a shit-storm," Mulroney promised. "The casino has its own electronic switchboard and Ham radio station; I'll give you the specifics."

As she walked around us, it rapidly became clear she wanted us to follow. I caught Casper whispering into her communication set, most likely keeping the rest abreast of our position and direction of movement.

Back into the elevator we went, our situation made even more comical having to shoehorn in one extra person. The device gave off a groaning sound as we went down, protesting our excess weight it had to carry; way past the 'safe' limit.

"Are you really Kuiko's boyfriend?" Mulroney ambushed me.

"Yes. I love her and she has agreed to share me; emotionally; with a few other women," I replied. "Honestly, she is freaking wonderful."

"Damn right she is," the manager chuckled. "Glad to see she has found someone, who appreciates her."

The elevator doors opened and we were confronted with a sea of little- and medium-sized Sanos.

"Mr. J," a grey-haired-model Sano stepped forward, and extended her hand.

"Oh My God!" screeched Capri. "You didn't tell me you were related to The Shiro Sano!"

"Miss O'Hara, correct?" the person identified as Shiro Sano said to Capri, while pumping my hand.

"Yes; yes ma'am," Capri blushed furiously. "I'm stunned you recall me."

"You were second chair on the Wainwrights case in that Mock Court at DePaul; two years ago," Shiro explained. "As I recall, you kept exquisite notes. Honestly, I felt somewhat superfluous."

"I; yes ma'am," Capri stammered.

"I'm glad you have rediscovered your ability to speak, too," Shiro teased.

"She has a wonderful voice and a shark-like courtroom presence. Yes, I'm Mr. J and Capri is my legal counsel of record and has been doing a bang-up job keeping me out of the hands of the GED and the FBI."

"Damn right I have," Capri recovered quickly. "Still, I am very happy to see you. What are you doing here?"

"Vacationing with my two daughters. What are you doing here?"

"Living a life on the run from virtually every authority in the Western Hemisphere," Capri answered. Then, "You are still shaking my client's hand, Miss Sano."

"Ha! Good for you," Shiro let my grip go. "How did you get to know our family's best known; least appreciated artist?"

"Hey now," I protested.

I also reached out for Kuiko and drew her in. I could tell the manager was anxious to continue, so off we set, that sea of Sanos tagging along. If anything, having four more of their kids and now two teenage ones; all girls; with us put Casper more at ease.

"What do you mean 'least appreciated artist'?"

"Kuiko has the ambition to become a world-famous metal-sculpture artist. She has quite the talent, but is afraid to strike out on her own. She claims she wants to build up the seed money for her enterprise herself first, though."

"Kuiko, did you blow all that money on our first date instead of saving it for your dream occupation?" I stared deeply into her eyes. Words weren't necessary. She had. Then the words hit her.

"First date," she sighed happily. "Yum-yum," she murmured, as she snuggled in tightly.

"Oh, where are my manners," I reengaged with Shiro. "This is Angel Kristi and Zara 'no last name given' along with Casper, our team's lead lioness."

"Horvat," Zara finally spoke, though her alertness hadn't ratcheted down one bit.

"Casper Harvey," Casper nodded.

"Sorry Sano family, but we have to go to medical." Rufus began separating us from the Sano clan.

"Is everyone okay?" Shiro inquired. "I understand it is becoming quite wild out there."

"Just checking things out," I lied. Sadly, Shiro immediately clued into me lying.

I would have cared more, except Angel had taken ahold of my other hand and was giving it a squeeze every few seconds to remind her she was close by, in case I needed to fall back inside myself for a few moments; a respite against the world's pressures and expectations.

"Shiro, gather your aunts and cousins in reception room number two, and I'll explain things there," Mulroney set things straight.

Shiro stopped walking, pulled out her phone and began making some calls. The rest of us traversed the casino room floor which was still quite active. Despite my infamy, no one seemed to notice me. Perhaps it was because of my obvious military outfitting and hardware. Who could say?

We entered their medical center;  which was very much like a modern day trauma center; holy shit!

"We take the care of our visitors and staff very seriously," Mulroney took in my surprise. "We get yearly updates on our equipment, and supply our medical staff with the continuing education opportunities."

"I had heard casinos did this," Capri noted. "I simply didn't believe it."

"Well, believe. Now, Mr. Jensen, this is Dr. Three Dogs Running M.D.; she is a Crow Aboriginal who has elected to fort up with us for the crisis. Doctor, this is Israel Jensen and we have an opportunity for you to save us all."

And then she laid out the plan to the gathering medical staff on what they needed to do.

Despite the positive progress we were making, Casper didn't scale down her alertness one iota. She assigned one armed individual to be with the donors at all times. I would stay within arms' reach of both Zara and former Special Agent Fraklos for the duration. We were offered rooms to crash out in, but Casper declined. Mulroney didn't get it, but Rufus did.

Just as the casino was Rufus' family, the convoy was hers. We had our food delivered and an FBI agent was stationed with each of the vehicles as well. Sleep was calling us, but the reality was that humanity in the Federation was slowly unraveling as the crisis deepened. GNN was keeping us abreast of the pandemic as well as the upcoming civil war;  which took a back burner when the Federation declared war on Bolivia and the Caribbean Federation of States.

Demise of Texas.

Texas was about to get demolished, but then it wasn't so slowly occurring that the regional military commanders in the other provinces began recalling their oaths and put politics aside. The question was 'would this reaction be in time?' The major problem was the vast majority of Federation regular military units were on either the western, or eastern coasts of the Federation, not in its interior.

It was up to the National Guard and Reserves to repel this unheralded invasion in its opening hours; and quite frankly, the only hours which mattered. There was one overlooked benefit in all of this, though. At the capital, the Joint Chiefs had been gathering dozens of regular units and reservists under their direct control. As the airborne assaults began, they released those units in two directions.

Most of the Army units were sent racing south, toward Texas, to repel an expected seaborne invasion, while their Special Forces were sent hunting westward for my yet-to-be-revealed location. Whomever had me, had the cure thus life itself, or so the reasoning went. Following in the footsteps of the deposed Federation President Pillyere, the Joint Chiefs were also isolating key communities and industries in a desperate attempt to keep some aspect of the Federation alive.

One of their biggest problems was one of location; too many key defense industry establishments were in the provinces of California and the Pacific Northwest. California was already a lost cause and was callously written off; including their regular military units; there was no saving them. Already, the associated naval units were expelling suspected infected individuals in a tragic attempt to save some elements of the Pacific fleet.

The East Coast, on the other hand, there had remained some concrete hopes of saving what 'needed' to be saved. Civilians were already being rounded up against their will and were either expelled from critical junctures, or placed in those all-important positions they would be needed in over the upcoming months. With any luck, these isolated redoubts would keep the flames of civilization alive.

Desperate Manhunt.

We all took the declarations of war in different ways. I wanted to break down and cry. Women; thousands upon thousands of women; were about to die, trying to get their hands on me and that meant everyone currently around me was in deathly peril. I asked Casper to spin off my group of ladies and the former FBI crew to 'lighten our load'.

She nixed that. She wanted every gun possible around me when whatever side discovered us first. To prove this was the End of Times, they did what our society Never did. They gave the three of us guys; Jethro was a breed apart; firearms; pistols in our case. We even went behind the casino, where it looked over undeveloped countryside and had another firearms training session. Pierre and I were getting remarkably better, whereas Barabbas and Zuiko;  were not.

In what seemed like a race to remain relevant, the military broadcast stations were updating the deployment of the National Guard and military reserves, though they used code words to indicate locations in most cases. GNN gave us spectacular footage of jets using rockets to destroy bridges all along the Missouri and lower Mississippi (from the Federation Capital to the Gulf).

Only a handful would remain open. As for the people on those bridges, trapped in those impossible traffic jams;  most died. Those who didn't, were encouraged to swim back to the west bank. Those who didn't, were killed by the law enforcement and troops sent to guard those crossings. I had to hope that, somehow, Mama and Sonia Ripley were okay. And if they had my kids. I had to hope they would somehow make it as well. Seeing those children of mine;  still an impossibility.

"You look incredibly bleak," Capri caught up with me in the bar.

For a few moments, the bartender was keeping me to the two, and only two, alcoholic drinks I was permitted by law.

"Society is going down the crapper," I joked feebly. "Besides, who is going to arrest you now?"

"Point taken," she snorted, then poured all of us a shot glass. "To surviving this shit," she toasted. Carpi and I joined in that toast, all right. 'To surviving this shit' indeed.

I was just starting to feel warm all the way from the tips of my toes to the hair on the top of my head, when Zara grabbed hold of me.

"Time to go," she began steering me toward the side exit, where our rides had been parked. I could see it in her eyes. Something was wrong.

"What happened?" I worried.

"Someone just attempted to land a jet airliner at the Rapid City Regional Airport. A big one. Initial reports are sketchy, but it appears to be disgorging a large number of armed women. We need to get out of here."

It was nice of her to let me know what was going on as opposed to merely strong-arming me.

"The last of the donors are resting up," Casper contacted me, as her Vanishers made sure we were all accounted for. "The vehicles are fully juiced. We need to be going; Now!"

I nodded. What else could I do?

As I started running for the exit, I felt the heavy weight of the ten-millimeter pistol's holster banging against my right thigh. The extra magazines were upon my left. The belt securing it around my waist suddenly felt a whole lot heavier, too. Out we went, and piled into our assigned rides. Zara touched my headset and suddenly all the other chatter died.

"Israel, this is Enola; Dimples. No matter what else happens, don't commit suicide if we get separated. We will keep looking for you no matter what, and we will find you. Promise me you will stay alive."

The unspoken promise was if I didn't agree to her demands, they would disarm me lickety-split.

"I swear, Enola, I won't give up. I have children of mine I want to see come into this world and grow up. I won't lose faith in you, or the Vanishers, hunting for me and setting me free."

"Atta boy," Dimples gave off a sigh of relief. "Bravo."

We all piled into our cars, or Hummers; except Rufus had traded in our stolen sedans for off-road all-terrain rides; and peeled out of the parking garage. We exited the casino parking lot and took a left (north) onto Federation Highway 90. This time, we had a tiny bit more room, as Casper had gifted the FBI contingent with Barabbas, so that each of their vehicles had five occupants (or one with six, if you counted baby Narfi).

Kuiko, glued to her phone, was watching footage of the airplane wreck from the vantage point of the air control tower. It was a confusing mess initially;  and then the firing began. One sheriff's deputy had been approaching the crash, a gas mask over her face and warding the newcomers away, so one of them shot the gal at near-point-blank range.

Her back-up, some dozens of yards away, sheltering within her cop car, began firing at the newcomers;  and then the entire new contingent returned fire, shredding the Armored police vehicle and the woman inside of it. At the same time, the person recording this from the tower zeroed in on the woman seemingly in charge.

"Oh no," Kuiko sniffled, in a scared, little girl's voice.

"What?" I rubbed both her arms. "What is it?" as if the carnage wasn't bad enough.

"It's Big-M," she whispered. Sensing my momentary lack of comprehension, "Maria Keverich."

"Oh shit," I trembled uncontrollably, and I didn't even know precisely who that was even then; my sole experience with organized crime having been with her daughter, 'Little M';  who had me nearly beaten to death, over something as trivial as a look.

Flame would have known more, but sadly she was in one of the other vehicles. She had once worked for Big M after all so could separate the legend from reality while Kuiko could not.

"Casper," I said over my headset, "that is Maria Keverich at the airport;  and she has a lot of people with her."

"I'm watching the same coverage. I'm counting roughly eighty people, approximately two-thirds are moving, and acting, like professionals; professional mercenaries, that is. The rest are most likely criminals associated with Keverich."

Already, the mob of women around Keverich were racing toward the parking lot and breaking into the cars there. It would be a tight fit getting them all into the rides they could get into. Since I could then make out the difference, I could tell who the criminals were, and who weren't. Among them was;  oh hell no!

"Kuiko, scroll back! Scroll back," I urged her.

She did so and my heart nearly stopped.

"That's Bethany Fremont," I muttered.

"Your ex is working with Big-M?" Kuiko gulped.

I nodded.

"Casper, the mercenary contingent includes Bethany Fremont, Dr. Fremont's youngest daughter;  so I guess those two factions are currently working together."

"Seems to be the case, but for how long; we can't conjecture at this moment. Zara."

"Yes." Zara sounded so icily calm.

"If you get the chance, take down Maria Keverich, Bethany Fremont and the woman standing next to her; most likely the mercenary team leader."

"Understood. Three targets confirmed."

I leaned around Kuiko and into Zara's face. She looked at me, confused, so I kissed her fully on the lips.

"For luck," I plastered a smile on my face.

"Don't worry, Israel, we've got you," she assured me, with utmost confidence.

Ahead of us, Wendy was watching the path ahead with her small drone, while Casper was covering our rear with another. While not the same size, speed, or potency of the swarms of drones seeking us out, they were the right tools for the job. All they had to do was keep pace with our convoy and stick close to the ground (fifty meters up, or so) and their small size was their best armor against detection, thus their destruction. Kat was driving their Hummer with former SA Vabishi manning the fifty caliber in the cupola if necessary.

I was in the second Hummer with Zara, Jen and Brandi with Pierre, Angel and Kuiko with me. Wes was driving in the third Hummer, and Thorn at the wheel in the fourth. Between the first and second Hummer was the first all-terrain vehicle with Sosa driving. Between the third and fourth was the other all-terrain, with Norris driving. Both Dimples and Barabbas were in the first all-terrain vehicle, safely in the middle of us all; safe as that was.

Just outside of Gillette, in the old State of Wyoming, our luck finally ran out. A drone, floating about a kilometer-and-a-half up, caught sight of us. We were pretty certain because it began following along. Worse, it was armed, so our little convoy was then in constant peril. To add to our catalog of misfortunes, the sky began to clear and sunset was still nearly three hours away.

The End of Federation Leaders.

For the six survivors out of thirty, the mission was almost complete. They only needed five to do what needed to be done. That this would be considered a war crime didn't bother them in the slightest. If they failed, their nation would be dead. There were too many safeguards to fulfill their primary mission; turn the solar array closest to the Federation capital into a massive cannon, nuking the site from orbit.

Instead, they overrode the array's controls and sent it crashing down into the capital. Organizing, and pulling this feat of skill, and technology, off in such a limited amount of time was truly phenomenal; coordinating it so the solar array could fall on such a tiny amount of Earth's space. The damage would be far less than the space cannon idea, but still extensive. In this moment of crisis, they would remove the Federation's leadership, or so they hoped. The sixth member of the team reported the ground site's reaction force was coming for them.

They were out of time. The ladies gave each other one final salute, then engaged every thruster in the array and pointed it downward. Then they put plastic explosive charges on every device capable of counteracting their work, blew the place, and went off to join their sixth sister in the Halls of Legends back home, heroines to the bitter end.

GNN got it more succinctly. Terrorists had seized the ground facility and plunged the array into the capital city area. Most of the bigwigs were whisked to deep bunkers capable of sustaining them against anything short of a nuclear strike, or the mother-of-all-bunker-busting bombs. Besides, the majority of the array was fragile, burning up upon reentry. What the Federation did lack was cohesive leadership at this crucial juncture.

Essentially, every military district's regional commander was on their own, though technically the Mid-Atlantic Command had the senior-most seniority and could have taken charge if she wanted to attempt it. Unsure as to what damage the capital had sustained, she did nothing. Besides, she had a plague to prepare for, a war to fight; she was rushing two brigades to Texas by rail at that moment; and a 'bunker' strategy to enforce.

Adding to the cacophony of destruction were the ambassadors to Brazil and Argentina, who finally decided to pay the foreign ministers of those two countries a visit and enlightened them to the war the CFS and Bolivia were waging with the Federation; and, seeing as both had borders disputes with Bolivia; if they could ally with the Federation. South of the equator, two more countries were preparing to jump off into their own struggle for survival.

Nuclear Attack Launched

An hour later, the fireworks began. First and foremost, though it was beyond our horizon, the solar farm which powered so much of the capital's energy was taken off-line;  then dropped on our capital;  was it still my capital, even after all the betrayals and misery heaped upon me? Who could I ask about such thinking?

"The prime military channel just went off-line," Kuiko was the first to warn us what had gone wrong.

The next;  to the southwest, we saw bright points of light begin at the horizon and start to rise, rise, rise to the heavens. Before they lost communications with the outside world, the Joint Chiefs gave the order for the majority of the Federation's ICBM groups to strike at their two foes. While the heads of those missile groups hesitated; who was really in charge after all; the capital went silent. With that event foremost on their minds, they preemptively decided to strike back as well.

"Holy shit," Zara commented. "There go the missiles. This is;  the End."

"What do you mean?" I had to ask.

"We are about to pulverize every city center in the Caribbean Federation and Bolivia. Those are our ICBM fleets you see in the distance," she explained.

"Won't the two of them hit back?" I worried. That was the Mad (Mutual Assured Destruction) doctrine I had learned about in high school.

"Without a doubt," Zara puffed out her cheeks, and exhaled.

"What's going to be left?"

"Not a lot. More to the point, this sort of shit cans any hope of saving any part of the Federation from the plague. How can we set up quarantine zones if all the major cities are shattered?"

"Oh no," Kuiko wept. "Who is going to survive?"

"Us;  the fantastically lucky few;  the people living in remote rural areas with enough firepower to beat off the refugees fleeing their shattered homes," Zara outlined. "It is going to get ugly. At least the Vanisher model really has a chance now."

"You mean you took part in this, not believing you could succeed?" I gulped.

"Yes; until I met you, I wasn't sure at all. Now;  Israel, you have really given me hope we can pull this off. The rest of the events which have followed our first meeting have simply been serendipity."

With one hand I squeezed Zara's, while my encircling arm hugged Kuiko to me tightly.

Seconds later, the drone tracking us began a series of drastic, violent maneuvers. Zara popped up in her cupola and began scanning about; not at the drone, but looking for the thing it was evading. She spotted them even as the lead fighter; an old F-55; launched an air-to-air missile at it. Before it unleashed, we couldn't see the damn thing and this was a sixth-generation aircraft; as old as the Gender Plague itself.

"That has to be someone's Air National Guard," Zara whispered over our shared communications network. Indeed, those two were patrolling jets from the Upper Mississippi Province (old North Dakota). Behind them, came two of 'our' drones, looking for the convoy, led to us by the CFS drone. West of Gillette, there was nowhere to hide, except in one of the half-dozen abandoned coal-mining sites.

Hiding in one of those would have meant we weren't gaining ground to the west, so Casper decided to move at an unsafe speed on Federation Highway 90, instead. It was fortunate for us traffic on the highway was minimal due to the various local quarantines. Tapping into various satellites, Jen was able to maneuver us around the roadblocks set up to question those who were on the road this fateful day.

"Man, I am so stressed," I mumbled. "Kuiko, can we have sex?"

"No, silly," she giggled, shedding her own crushing anxiety, "we have to keep our armor on."

She looked so adorable in her heavy-armored vest and helmet.

"Besides, it is better if you had sex with the other members of the coterie first; and all the Vanishers; before we can share 'the sexy' again."

"You are turning me down," I teased her at the absurdity of the moment.

"Yes. I can't believe I'm being so stupid," she riposted.

"You aren't being stupid, you are saving your life," Capri reminded us both. "If you keep hogging Israel, Roni and Samantha are going to kill you in your sleep."

"Point taken," I sighed.

Kuiko hugged me tighter, then relaxed somewhat.

Zara reported the results before the rest of us heard it; the speed of light being much greater than the speed of sound.

"Nailed it," she related to us in her patently smooth, soft voice. "Down one enemy drone. The jets have moved up to a holding pattern;  oh shit, now they have gone evasive, while the accompanying drones have dove for the Earth."

Who was chasing them? That question was answered twenty-seven seconds later, when one of the National Guard F-55s exploded in mid-air and the other one fled to the northeast. Five new fighters came to dominate our airspace and, unlike the F-55s, these were top-notch seventh-generation war machines.

"Crap," Zara muttered. "Those are Panavia Cyclones. I'll wager a month's pay those are either CFS, or Bolivians. Well, they fucked up," she added.

Like a Prophetess of Doom, six missiles, fountaining flames and plumes of smoke, rose out of Gillette and raced after the five enemy aircraft. Gillette was the home base for 'A' Battery, 2nd Battalion, 300th Multi-role Field Artillery of the Middle Rockies National Guard; that meant they blew shit up from a quite a distance and, in this case, it meant several units in the battery were configured to be Sam (surface to air) launchers.

Unlike the Sam weaponry the Vanishers had, these were some-freaking-huge missiles, which could chase after targets for close to a hundred kilometers. Yikes!

The enemy aircraft scattered, each one attempting to evade the oncoming pinpoints of death. Even then, the Sams only had to get so close; exploding and ripping the fragile aircraft to bits with the resulting shrapnel.

Sadly, the artillery unit was also a National Guard formation, so their missiles, while lovingly maintained and updated, were still configured to hunt down and destroy sixth-generation targets. The enemy lost one aircraft before the other four evaded their missiles and raced toward Gillette to smash the battery before they could launch their second volley of six, or reload those launchers.

While they rained rocket fire on the city of Gillette, seeking out the battery, and radar units which guided it, various Manpad (man-portable air defense) missiles rose up to meet them. They bagged yet another jet; wounding it to the point it had to limp away south, before the other three made them pay for the temerity of firing at them in the first place.

The plus side for all of us in this was the aircraft spent all their munitions on Gillette, so had nothing except their gun-pods to threaten us with. That meant they would have to come within range of our own Manpads and the Vanisher tech was top notch; designed to deal with seventh-generation opponents. The fighters elected to not close the distance, leaving it to the drones to keep a close watch on us.

Then the drone battle began. This time, a flight of drones from the south came charging in, engaging the three surviving fighters with their own radar-guided missiles then the foreign drones with magnetic-seekers; hunting down their foes' residual signals of their magnetic engines. Those engines didn't produce enough heat to justify using an IR (heat-seeking) warhead these days.

The airspace around us became cluttered with the contrails of missiles racing to destroy their targets, or the actual planes and drones either launching said missiles, or evading them with bright clouds of chaff. While, technically, none of the aircraft above us were 'on our side', we had to pretend to be on the Federation's side. Once our lead Hummer 'lit up' a CFS drone which, while evading another drone, crossed dangerously close to us.

Being the awesome goddesses of war they were, the Vanishers clipped the enemy drone and sent it spiraling out of control, eventually crashing in the desolate terrain we found ourselves in. Twice the CFS-Bolivian side attempted to crater Highway 90 ahead of us, forcing us to stop, or at least slow down. Not these girls. They maneuvered off-road, dodging the damage and keeping their pedals to the metal.

The real difficult part came when, after some effort, the Federation side managed to contact Casper. They wanted us to make it to the town of Buffalo, and fort up there until ground units could secure 'our'; the convoy's; package; 'me'. Estimated time to our safety; thirty-four minutes. Casper acknowledged the order, then dropped contact. What else could she do?

Ahead of us, my old friends in the 1st Ranger battalion from the city, had circled to the north of the kerfuffle centered on the convoy, and put four hundred of their young ladies in charge of the town; temporarily. They even had the captain, whom Capri had insulted on the metro; how wonderful. Casper had Jen figure out a route around Buffalo as quickly as possible, which bled off our speed as little as was practical.

We'd need every kilometer-per-hour if we were going to make it to Ranchester and the Highway 14 turn-off. Highway 14 would, hopefully, deposit us in Cody. In theory, we would then push on into Yellowstone National Park via the Shoshone National Forest, all along good ol' Highway 14. Depending on the level of surveillance, we would have to actually enter the Shoshone, abandon our vehicles, then return to Cody on foot.

 

 

To be continued

By FinalStand for Literotica