 
               --===CAMP: Ron's Journey, Chapter 24===--
 
Chapter 24
 
Opening Salvo
 
 
 
    Mike McGavin's face wore a broad smile as he spoke to the
crowd.  "Not only will I keep taxes in check, but I will *lower* the
taxes on corporations, the people who pay your salary, to secure your
job well into the future.  Furthermore, it will be the policy of my
administration to cut the unemployment rate to *zero* percent, by the
end of my first term!"  He paused here for the expected applause, which
came thunderously.  He had them eating out of the palm of his hand.
 
    Mike continued on for several more minutes, pausing six
more times for ovations.  After the conclusion of his speech, and one
more long ovation, he stepped down off the platform, and began working
his way through the crowd, shaking hands and offering up meaningless
platitudes as he spoke to people he wouldn't remember in half an hour.
 
    Finally making it into the waiting limousine, he sat back
in his seat and loosened his tie.  He looked over at James, who had
something of a scowl on his face.
 
    "I know you hate this shit, James, but we've got to make it
look good."
 
    "That isn't it, Mike."  James handed over a newspaper. 
"Read this."
 
    Mike read the headline, "Forster Fosters Suspicion over
McGavin Corporation."  Reading on, Mike became more agitated as he read.
 
    "That little shit.  This isn't even close to the truth,"
Mike raged.
 
    "Maybe not, but, given our present status, I'm sure the
newsies will have no trouble making it look that way."
 
    "Alright, then.  I've had enough of this guy's shit.  He's
been hounding us for the last three months.  Here's what I want you to
do..."
 
 
 
-----
 
 
 
    "Our top story tonight, Al Forster has dropped out of the
presidential race, after being caught having what can only be described
as an orgy with five separate women this afternoon.  Our local
affiliate received an anonymous tip about the lurid activities going on
at this hotel, and our cameras caught the disheveled women as they
left.  Two of the women told our reporter in explicit detail what
happened inside.
 
    "While Mr. Forster refused to comment beyond his statement,
we were able to catch up with one of his opponents, Mike McGavin, an
independent candidate for president.  When asked what he thought of
today's events, Mr. McGavin had this to say:"
 
    "Well, I've known Al Forster for a long time.  He's made a
habit out of this sort of activity.  He makes Bill Clinton look like a
saint.  But up until now, he's been better at hiding it.  I guess the
pressure finally got to him."
 
    "How does this affect your chances for election?" the
reporter asked.
 
    "Well, I never really considered Al to be stiff
competition, but I'll be happy to take his votes," Mike said with a
smile.
 
    "And what about Mr. Forster's accusations about your
company?"
 
    "Obviously, Mr. Forster isn't thinking clearly as of late,
or he would not have allowed himself to get into this mess.  My
corporation is nothing more than a think tank.  We consult with
industry, we don't brainwash people.  I don't know where he got his
so-called information, but it was so far off-base as to be ludicrous. 
I hope that we can get back to real issues now, instead of having to
worry about such mud-slinging."
 
    The anchor continued, "Though the Democratic convention
isn't until-"  The TV clicked off at this point, and Nikki set the
remote control on the nightstand.
 
    "Enough of that," she said, laying her head on Ron's
shoulder.  She and Ron had been in bed now for the entire day.  They
were celebrating the end of Nikki's school year.  They had made love
too many times to count already, but Nikki still hadn't had enough of
her big brother.  

    "Well, it looks like, one way or another, he's going to win
this election," Ron said.
 
    "I don't care about him, I want *you*."
 
    Ron looked down at her face, smiling coyly back up at him. 
"Don't you ever get tired, Nik?"  But his heart wasn't in his protest. 
Her eyes closed as their lips joined softly.  He wrapped his arms
around her and pulled her into him, holding their bodies firmly
together.
 
    Her tongue snaked into his mouth, caressing his tongue,
moving along it, and exciting him.  Meanwhile, her hand moved down his
body, searching out his prick.  Once there, her slender fingers
encircled his hard shaft, massaging it gently.  Ron moaned his pleasure.
 
    Nikki broke their kiss, and began tonguing her way down his
body.  She stopped momentarily at each nipple, but as soon as they
hardened, she moved down, eagerly approaching her target.  As she
reached his cock, her tongue slipped out of her mouth, and flicked
across the skin of his shaft.  She could feel him shiver with the
sensation.
 
    Ron took hold of Nikki's hips, and smoothly positioned her
above him.  He took a moment to admire her wonderful cunt, still tight,
and right now dripping with her juices.  He flicked his tongue out, and
ran it lightly along her pussy lips.  She hummed her joy across his
dick, sending further waves of ecstasy through him.  He continued to
flit his tongue across her outer lips, then parted them to gain access
to her sweet inner flesh.
 
    Nikki had engulfed Ron's prick, and was slowly moving her
head up and down on his shaft, trying to give him the greatest
sensation possible.  She was finding it hard to concentrate with his
mouth at her cunt, but she knew he enjoyed her cocksucking, and she
wanted to make him come.  She loved the taste of his jism pouring down
her throat.  She strove to focus her attention fully on his cock, doing
her best to overcome the wonderful feelings her pussy was having.
 
    She pulled her mouth off his cock, and ran her tongue along
its entire length.  Then she sucked each of his balls into her mouth,
massaging it with her tongue, while her hand continued to stroke his
dick.  She returned to kissing his dick, working her way up from the
base, until she kissed the very head of his dick, licking off the
precum she found there.
 
    Ron continued licking Nikki's inner pussy lips, using long,
languorous strokes that sent chills through her.  Occasionally, he'd
flick his tongue over the emerging bud of her clit, and then he would
return to lavishing her pussy with his licking.  

    Once again, Nikki engulfed Ron's prick, this time moving
more quickly, determined to drive him to climax.  Her head bobbed up
and down as she moved on his dick, using her tongue and even her teeth
to give him as much pleasure as possible.
 
    Ron was losing control, but he continued to lick her cunt,
allowing his tongue to plunge into her depths before returning to her
pussy lips.  As Nikki continued to ravish his cock, he began to flick
his tongue against her clit repeatedly, sending shivers through her
body.  Nikki's moans added to the already overpowering sensations his
cock was feeling, and he exploded in her mouth, shooting his cum into
her.
 
    Nikki continued to suck Ron's cock until there was no more
cum to be had.  He was still hard, and she needed him inside her now. 
She deftly maneuvered herself over him, and in one swift motion,
impaled herself fully onto his cock.  She released a loud "Oh!" as her
pussy was filled with his manhood.  Looking down into his eyes, she saw
the love her brother had for her.  A love like none other had ever
given her, and she doubted anyone else ever could.  She wanted to
return that love to him, to show him that she loved him as much as he
loved her.  And so, she gave him the one thing she knew he desired: her
body.
 
    Nikki began to move herself on Ron's shaft.  She was much
too hot to begin slowly, and her pace was feverish almost immediately. 
Ron took hold of her bouncing tits, and gently massaged them, feeling
the hot points of her nipples against his palms.  His hips thrust up to
meet her every down-thrust, their bodies moving in perfect sync.  

    Nikki was fast approaching orgasm, but Ron wanted to make
this last act of the day unforgettable for her.  Ron reached out to the
pleasure center of her brain, and kicked it into overdrive.
 
    Suddenly, every nerve in Nikki's body was on fire.  Every
possible pleasurable sensation she could have, she was having, all at
once.  The sensations running up her spine were mind-wrenching in their
intensity.  Her body began to move even faster on Ron's dick, and that
sent even greater waves of pleasure over her body.  Faster, faster she
went, and the pitch of her ecstasy rose.  Finally, she could stand it
no longer, and her orgasm washed over her, the pleasure exploding in
her brain like the brightest of fireworks.  In that moment, she felt as
if she was having every orgasm she'd ever had, all at once.  Her back
was arched, her mouth open in a silent cry of elation.  Her hips
continued to slam down onto Ron's cock.  Then, her brain overloaded,
Nikki passed out from the intense pleasure of her ordeal.  She
collapsed on Ron's chest, a serene smile on her face.
 
    "Good night, little sister," Ron said, kissing her warmly
on the cheek.  He wrapped his arms around her, his dick still buried in
her warm twat, and closed his eyes, falling into a peaceful slumber.
 
 
 
...---=== http://netwolf.wolfpub.org ===---...
 
 
 
    "Becky!  Phone call for you!"
 
    The young slave girl padded to the phone in her bare feet. 
Her life had been an easy one, and she enjoyed her master's company. 
Her only wish was that he would care for her forever.
 
    Upon picking up the phone, she heard a double tone.  

    "Serial number 287-3 present.  Awaiting orders."
 
    "Execute plan Delta.  Immediately," the voice on the other
end said.
 
    "Understood.  Plan Delta.  Will Comply."
 
    She waited for the *click* at the other end, and hung up
the phone.  Returning to the bedroom, she looked at her watch before
returning to her master's side.  She quickly pressed a button on the
watch three times, saw the display change, then change back.  She set
her watch down, and slipped beneath the covers.
 
 
 
...---=== http://netwolf.wolfpub.org ===---...
 
 
 
    The next afternoon, Ron headed over to his neighbor's
house.  Ron was somewhat surprised when Clarissa opened the door,
completely nude.  Making no effort to hide herself, nor showing any
wish to explain, she simple ushered him inside, and led him into the
den, where he found Brian Deneuve spanking his wife, who was gagged,
and had her hands tied.
 
    "Perhaps I have come at an inconvenient moment?" Ron said,
trying to keep his voice even.
 
    Brian looked up.  "Oh, hey Ron!  Nah, these two were just
getting a little out of line, so I had to teach them a lesson.  I
figured making Clarissa do all her chores nude for the entire week
would teach her some respect, but my wife, well...  She's been a little
more disobedient, so I thought she needed a more aggressive lesson."
 
    Ron was chuckling lightly to himself.  After a few more
minutes, Brian sent his wife up to her room.  Clarissa remained,
standing quietly over in a corner.
 
    "So," Brian said, "What's up?  You haven't needed to meet
with Mr. Balcore since this program started.  Why now?"
 
    "I'd rather explain it only once," Ron replied.  Just then,
the doorbell rang, and Clarissa, without hesitation, went to get it. 
Returning with some rather surprised-looking men, she seated them at
the table, and asked if they wanted anything to drink.
 
    With the preliminaries out of the way, Ron got down to the
important business at hand.
 
    "Mr. Balcore, over the last several months, I have made you
a ridiculously large amount of money for no real work on your part,
with no police intervention, and no downside.  I trust that the
arrangement has been to your satisfaction?"
 
    "Very much so.  What's this all about?"
 
    "Unfortunately, sir, we are going to have to close down the
operation."
 
    Mr. Balcore's face darkened slightly.  "You can't just walk
away from business with the Balcore family, kid.  If you're gettin'
squeamish about it now, that's too fuckin' bad."
 
    "Sir, let me remind you that it was I who came to you with
this proposition.  However, it is not a matter of principles, but a
matter of practicality, that is causing us to close up shop."  Seeing a
slightly confused look on his business partner's face, he continued. 
"I know you will find this completely impossible to believe, sir, but
the United States is about to enter a war."
 
    "Bullshit!" interjected Vinny, one of Balcore's bodyguards.
 
    "And even if that were true," continued Balcore more
calmly, "What does that have to do with our business?"
 
    "I don't think you understand me, Mr. Balcore.  I didn't
say the US armed forces were entering into a war.  I said the *United
States* is entering into a war.  This war will be fought on our home
soil, along with just about every other nation in the world.  I'm
talking about World War Three.  But it won't go nuclear.  This is a
different kind of war."
 
    "You wanna tell me what kind of shit you been drinkin'?"
Balcore said.  "Okay, I'll bite.  What kind of war is it gonna be?"
 
    "A psionic war."
 
    "A *what?*" Vinny asked incredulously.
 
    "Do you know what a psionic is?" asked Ron.
 
    Balcore shook his head.  Tony, Balcore's other henchman,
chimed in, "Yeah.  A psionic is supposed to be someone who can use his
mind to control shit, like make chairs move, and bend spoons and shit. 
But that's all bullshit, man.  Those kind of people don't exist."
 
    Without a word, Ron used his extension to pick up the chair
that Balcore was sitting in, and float it around the room.  His
henchman, startled, pulled out their weapons, and fired at Ron.  The
bullets from their guns slowed, and stopped, inches from Ron's chest. 
Figuring he'd made his point, Ron settled the mob boss back onto the
floor, and reached out to pluck the bullets from their frozen positions
in mid-air.
 
    "Have I made my point?" Ron asked.
 
    "God Dammit!" cried Tony.
 
    Mr. Balcore looked calmly at Ron. "Okay, so you're one of
these whatchacallit, psionics.  What the hell has that got to do with
the price of tea in Japan?"
 
    Ron smiled at the misquote, but held his tongue.  "I'm not
the only one.  And America isn't the only country where they live. 
There are Russian psionics, and they've already begun systematic
attacks on American targets.  I don't know what their goal is entirely,
but I do know that they're not just trying to wipe out us psionics. 
They want the country.  

    "Shit," said Vinny quietly.
 
    "Well, we don't intend to just let them have it.  The
American psionics are preparing for battle now.  I'm one of them.  When
the shit hits the fan, any operation like the one we're running would
have to be shut down anyhow.  I'm just choosing to do it in a more
orderly fashion."
 
    Though stunned, Vincenzi Balcore managed to speak.  "After
what I just saw, I can't afford to doubt you on this.  How might this
impact my other operations?"
 
    "I can't say for certain.  What I'd recommend is that you
put together the resources, such as food, clothing, guns and
ammunition, to keep your family safe for a good long time.  I have no
way of knowing how much damage this war is going to cause.  Maybe
none:  it might be that when it's all done, we can simply resume this
operation, and carry on as before.  However, that would be a 'best-case
scenario', and I don't expect that to be what happens.  When psionics
fight, things around them break.  Things like trees, cars, *buildings*,
et cetera.  If you think a tank does damage, you should see the kind of
hell a psion-13 can wreak.  And I've already tangled with several
Russian psionics of that level of strength or greater."
 
    "So, you're telling me to prepare for a full-blown, all out
third world war?" Balcore asked.
 
    "It's the safest bet.  It probably won't be that bad, but
do you really want to take the chance?  I'm telling you all this
because you've been a good partner in this operation, and you deserve
the chance to save your ass.  I'd advise getting out of any big
cities.  Find a calm, *rural* place to hole up.  If this all blows
over, and we can avert this thing somehow, I'll come find you.  Trust
me, I *can* find you.  But somehow, I don't think we can manage it at
this point.  I think we're going to have to fight this one to the end. 
*And* hope like hell that we win."
 
    After some further discussion, with Ron giving them some
ideas, and asking for a few small favors, the meeting broke up and the
head of the Balcore crime family left.
 
    Ron could see that Brian's face was ashen.  "When the shit
starts hitting the fan, Brian, get your ass over to my place.  It will
be fortified and protected."  Ron handed him a little card.  "I may not
be the one guarding the place, so keep this card safe.  Present it to
whomever is standing guard, and they'll let you in.  Without it, you'll
have to hope I come back to let you in, so don't lose it."
 
    "Got it.  Thanks, man.  You didn't have to do this for us."
 
    "A man's got to take care of his friends.  Especially in a
time like this."
 
    Ron left for home, feeling both relieved that he had
wrapped up a potential problem, and anxious about the coming war.  He
could sense it getting closer, and he knew they weren't ready yet.
 
 
 
...---=== http://netwolf.wolfpub.org ===---...
 
 
 
    "The caterers are all set, Ron."  Karen and Lars had
finished setting up the video equipment, and they had joined Ron in his
computer lab.  "I activated plan Delta like you asked me to, but I
still don't know what the hell it is.  It's been four days, and
nothing's happened yet.  Don't you trust me enough to tell me what's
going on?"
 
    Ron finished fiddling with the display he was working on
before he answered her.  "Sorry, Kar.  It's not that I don't trust you,
it's just that I've been really busy putting this whole thing in
place.  Tonight's party *is* plan Delta."  Seeing the confusion on the
faces of his comrades, he explained further, "When this war kicks off,
I have a feeling that there's going to be a lot of chaos.  We need to
insure that there are places where we can send people, where they're
protected and can survive.  The people who are part of plan Delta have
the resources and the land to protect a very large number of people. 
It's not much, but it's the best I can do.  I don't know how much
damage this war is going to do, but it's best to prepare for the worst."
 
    Lars asked, "You expect these people to help you because
you have done them a favor in the past?"
 
    "No, I expect them to help me because, along with their
beautiful slave girl, they received a programming device that has been
conditioning them for the last several months.  Initially, I thought
I'd need these people to hide from CAMP, and I still may, depending on
how CAMP reacts to both the war, and the fact that I'm not going to be
fighting with them, but I need them now to help me protect the people
we care about.  I can't do more than that."
 
    "How have you achieved the programming of someone who
hasn't been in contact with your reprogramming center?"
 
    "It's a long story, but let's just say I didn't start out
working with video.  There's a lot of ways to reprogram the human
mind.  The video routines we use in the facility are faster and more
powerful, but audio routines can achieve pretty much the same effects. 
It does take a little longer, though.  Tonight, they'll receive a
special video routine, hidden in the presentation."
 
    "Maybe I will skip tonight's talk..." Lars mused.
 
    Ron chuckled.  "Don't worry, the programming has no effect
on psionics.  Something in our makeup automatically blocks the
programming.  The first person I tried this stuff on was myself.  Oh,
and don't come to me after the program questioning all the bullshit in
this presentation.  I just put it together so it would last long enough
for the routine to complete.  Most of it is complete nonsense."
 
    Karen asked, "What does it talk about?"
 
    Ron replied, "Psionics, what else?  They've got to be told
that psionics exist, or they won't understand the concept of the war
that's coming.  But most of the stuff about how it works, how we get
it, why not everyone has it... I just made most of it up."
 
    Just then, the doorbell rang.  "Looks like our first guests
are here.  Time to go to work."
 
 
 
-----
 
 
 
    Mike sat at the table, looking over his itinerary for the
next few weeks.  "Have we figured out what we're going to do instead of
the debate with Al, now that he's had his unfortunate little setback?"
 
    One of the members of The Committee looked at his notes. 
"Well, there was that charity ball that wanted you to be keynote
speaker.  That's still open..."
 
    "Oh, right.  What was it they were raising money for?"
 
    At this point, James got up and excused himself.  This
meeting didn't require his input, and he was getting the strangest
feeling at the very back of his consciousness.  He couldn't place it,
but he knew something was wrong.
 
 
 
-----
 
 
 
    "Hello, Mr. Adams, Becky.  And where is your lovely wife
this evening, sir?"  Ron was greeting guests and mingling, waiting for
everyone to arrive before getting "the entertainment" started.
 
    "I'm afraid she couldn't make it.  Had a bridge game, or
some such crap.  I thought that Becky would make a happier companion,
anyway."  The young lady beamed at her master's praise.
 
    "Well, she certainly brightens the room.  Please, make
yourselves at home."  Ron left the two as he continued to make the
rounds, speaking briefly to all of his guests, making sure nothing was
amiss.  But his mental search was far too narrow to find the real
trouble this evening.
 
 
 
-----
 
 
 
    James' meandering had taken him to the far back corner of
the CAMP compound.  He still couldn't find what was wrong.  It
irritated him, like the buzzing of some unseen insect in his ear.  His
brain continued to tell him there was cause for alarm, but he could
find nothing in his searches, either mental or visual.  And he was in
the wrong place to do anything about it when the trouble did come.
 
 
 
-----
 
 
 
    "Are we ready?" whispered the leader urgently.
 
    "Da, tovarishch!" responded the second in command.
 
    "Very well, no mental communication until we're actually
attacking.  How is it going blocking their scans?"
 
    "We keep getting a spike of very high mental energy probing
our way, but I believe we have managed to block it from getting any
information."
 
    "Very well.  We go at the change of watch, in ten minutes."
 
 
 
-----
 
 
 
    "Hello, Master."
 
    Ron was startled by the voice, and turned around to find a
beautiful redhead looking demurely at him.  "Well, Jill.  It's about
time you arrived."  Ron pulled her to him and kissed her.  He could
feel the attention he was drawing, and welcomed it.  *Let these guys
realize that I have my own slave girl.*  He broke the kiss, and saw
that she wanted more of him.  "Not now, dear.  But stay close to me." 
Jill nodded her acquiescence and stayed within two paces of him at all
times from then on.  Ron, meanwhile, continued to greet his guests as
if nothing was different.  Jill drew glances from every man in the
room.  Her simple black dress clung to her gorgeous figure, and
presented her body in a most flattering manner.
 
    Eventually, Megan informed Ron that all the guests had
arrived.  He moved toward the front of the room, and motioned Jill to a
seat in the front row, kissing her quickly to lessen her disappointment
at being separated, even by such a small distance as this.
 
    "Gentlemen, ladies, if you will all take a seat, I'd like
to kick off this evening's festivities with a little presentation. 
Afterward, we'll have a wonderful feast, and the party can kick into
high gear."  There were chuckles around the room at that.  "This
presentation is only about fifteen minutes long.  It is not a sales
pitch, I assure you."  The group laughed openly.  *Good, they're in the
right frame of mind for this.*
 
    He dimmed the lights in the room, and the screen rolled
down out of the ceiling.  The LCD projector activated, and the
presentation began.  Ron started to speak in a lecturer's voice, like a
lot of his teachers had used in school.
 
    "Throughout the ages, mankind has revised its thinking
about what makes up human intelligence.  In the very beginning, it was
thought that man had a 'soul'.  Some mysterious being within himself
that actually controlled his actions.  In more modern times, this
theory has been basically rejected as mystical or religious nonsense. 
However, it has come to light in recent medical research that the
concept of the "embodied spirit" is not as nonsensical as once
thought.  It is now that medical science begins to understand the
nature of what is called 'The Mind'.
 
    "The Mind is, in fact, what controls the human.  What is
The Mind comprised of?  The Mind is an energy field.  But it's a
special type of energy, referred to as 'sentient energy'.  Its cohesive
and coherent natures are what make it different from other energy
fields which readily disperse, and have no clear internal order.
 
    "Why is sentient energy important?  It has long been
wondered if the human brain was capable of 'extrasensory' abilities,
such as telepathy or telekinesis.  We now know that, no, the human
*brain* is not capable of such things.  It is, after all, only a bunch
of electrical switches.  The *brain* is not capable of such things, but
*The Mind is.*  Extrasensory abilities are only possible if the person
with them can somehow interact with the energies flowing about them. 
The human body has no structure, no organ or tissue, which can interact
readily with such energies.  But The Mind is *already* energy.  For it
to interact with, and even change, the energies around it, is of no
great difficulty, if one has been granted the ability to control The
Mind's interaction with those energies.
 
    "There are people in the world today who have such control
over The Mind.  We call them 'psionics'.  A psionic is a person who can
manipulate the energy streams flowing around him or her to see things
at a distance, read your thoughts, even move objects without touching
them.  They have been granted what we call The Ability.  It is the
power to control the nature of the interactions of energies.
 
    "I hear you say, 'That's all well and good in theory, but
no such thing actually exists.'  To that, I tell you now that there are
three such individuals in this room right now.  And I am one of them."
 
 
 
-----
 
 
 
    The leader signaled, and the team moved silently forward. 
Remaining in an overwatch position, the leader kept an eye out for the
guards.  Seeing one, she reached out with her mind, crushing his skull
before he could even feel it coming.  He fell silently, and her
watchful eyes moved on.
 
    The assault group commander moved his people forward
silently, keeping up their mental jamming as they moved.  Another guard
was encountered, this one dispatched with a knife through the heart,
his mouth covered to silence any scream.  With little fanfare, and no
further trouble, they were at the gate to the compound.
 
    The sentries guarding the gate were no more trouble than
the others had been, falling without the slightest warning.  Two
minutes into the attack, and the assault force was inside the
compound.  Racing quickly and silently forward, they headed for the
administration building.
 
    Finding the outer doors locked, one of the team reached
into it with his mind, turning the tumblers quickly and easily. 
Another man disabled the electronics of the alarm.   The assault
commander pulled open the doors, and led his team into the building. 
Silently they moved down corridor after corridor, searching for their
target.
 
    Behind them, the secondary assault team came in.  They were
needed to help neutralize the target.  Following a hundred yards behind
the main force, they kept their eyes looking for guards, stragglers,
whatever might interfere with their plan.  Soon they, too, were inside
the administration building.  Two guards were left at the doors, and
the remainder of the second team rushed to catch up with the main
assault force.
 
    Having found the right room, the assault team "demolitions
experts" used their extensions to blow the doors to the room off their
hinges.  The entire assault team rushed into the room, and, before
anyone there could react, began lashing mental energy at their
targets.  Though there were more than a dozen psionics in the room, the
main assault force had twenty members, and the backup team had
fifteen.  The power was overwhelming, and seven of the Committee
members were dead within the first minute.
 
    Mike McGavin had already assessed his chances of making it
out of the room, and realized he was trapped.  This room had but one
exit, and there were twenty guys standing between him and that
doorway.  Soon, his body was trapped by the mental attacks of no less
than four of the Russian psionics.  He couldn't move, could barely
breathe.  But, while the other Committee members were dying, Mike found
that he wasn't being attacked mentally, only held.  *What do they want
with me?*
 
 
 
-----
 
 
 
    "...so the need for preparation is extreme.  While none of
us can predict the extent of damage to the United States, or to any
country involved in this war, it is better to be prepared for the
worst.  To that end, you will each be given a packet of information as
you leave here tonight.  You need to carry out the instructions
contained in those packets *as quickly as your resources can manage.* 
We do not know when this war will begin, so act as if it is starting
*tomorrow,* and get things done.  Thank you for your time and
attention.  Now, let's lighten the room, and the mood, and let's eat!"
 
    The atmosphere in the room was stunned.  As they were all
ushered into the dining hall and seated, they spoke quietly among
themselves, trying to decide if what they had just heard was a sick
joke of some kind.  But Ron's demonstrations of The Ability were almost
impossible to refute.
 
    As they walked into the dining hall, Jill stepped up to
Ron.  "Master, will I be safe when the war starts, out in California?"
 
    "You'll be safe, Jill, but you won't be in California. 
You're not leaving here until the war ends.  You finished the movie you
were working on, so no one will take notice if you just drop out of
sight for a while."  He looked into her eyes, and saw her relief, and
her devotion.  He kissed her again, passionately, and with the promise
of more to come.  When their lips parted, he smiled and said, "Now
let's eat, I'm starving.  Public speaking always makes me hungry."
 
 
 
-----
 
 
 
    James' confusion only deepened as he walked, finding
nothing out here.  But that, in itself, was unusual: there should have
been guards patrolling this area.
 
    Immediately, James tried to see what was happening in the
meeting room where Mike and the others were planning.  He could see
nothing at all.  And that told him what he needed to know; the feelings
he was having were caused by other psionics.  Only psionics could
prevent him from seeing anywhere he wanted.
 
    He carefully probed the jamming wall, looking for a hole he
could exploit.  There wasn't even the smallest weakness in their
blocking field, but James had one last option to play.
 
 
 
-----
 
 
 
    Back in the meeting room, the assault commander was now
questioning Mike.  The Committee members were all dead or dying, having
been dispatched with seemingly little effort on the part of the
Russians.
 
    Mike spat his words out through clenched teeth, his body
wracked with pain.  "I will tell you *nothing*!"  The commander lashed
mental energy at Mike again and again, causing him intense pain.
 
    "You *will* tell me eventually!  Your mind cannot hold out
forever!"
 
    A voice from behind the commander rang clearly through the
room.  "Your techniques will not work on him, Misha.  His mind has been
trained for such eventualities.  But there are other ways of getting
information from him."  The tall, auburn-haired team leader walked over
to them and looked over Mike's almost limp form.  He looked up into her
face.
 
    "Mi- Michelle?" he gasped.
 
    "No, Mr. McGavin, my name has never been Michelle Donalli. 
I am Zinaida Dostoyeva, leader of the Filitov Council.  You and your
country have held back the proper course of history for long enough. 
Now, we shall restore Mother Russia to her proper place in the world,
as leader and director of World Socialism.  You capitalists have
corrupted my country for the last time.  But I did not come here to
discuss with you the politics of East and West.  I need information,
and I will have it."  She took hold of Mike both physically and
mentally.  He was too drained to fight her.  "Leave us!"
 
    As the other troops left the room to continue clearing the
building, Zinaida brought Mike over to a chair, setting him down into
it gently.  She eased herself into his lap, making sure that her pelvis
was pressing against his dick.
 
    "Now, Michael, I know that we can come to some sort of
compromise that will satisfy us both.  I do not believe you wish to see
your country destroyed, and I can prevent that."  All the while she was
talking, Zinaida was moving her hips in circles.  Even in his present
condition, Mike was becoming aroused at the beautiful girl coming onto
him in his lap.
 
    Zinaida could feel the physical attraction he felt for
her.  It was hard for him to hide, with her crotch pressed against his
dick.  But she could also feel the arousal signals taking over in his
brain.  And that provided her with the opportunity she sought. 
Quickly, before he could react, she lanced her way into his mind,
searching for vital information.  Once she was in, Mike didn't have the
strength left to repel her assault.  She rummaged his mind looking for
the things she needed.  To her utter frustration, the information
wasn't there.
 
    "Either you are very clever, which I doubt, or you were all
very stupid.  You knew this day would come, didn't you?"  Without
waiting for a reply, she grabbed hold of his head and, using her
mentally augmented strength, ripped it completely off of his body.  She
marveled as the blood spurted out of his neck, his heart not yet aware
that he was dead.  She set the head on the table, and rose from the
lifeless corpse.
 
    Just then, one of the troops rushed in.  "Comrade!  We have
detected another psionic in the compound!  He was strong enough to push
right through our shield!  We are almost certain he has detected what
went on in this room!"
 
    "Damn!  Find him!  Hunt him down!  It can't be Ron, he
never comes here.  It must be the other one... James Kirkpatrick.  He
is a strong one, so be careful, but *find him*!"  The trooper nodded
and rushed out the door.
 
    "You won't get away from us, Mr. Kirkpatrick.  We will kill
all of your kind.  And, when he's isolated from you all, Ron will fall,
too.  What fools!  They train their own enemy!"
 
 
 
-----
 
 
 
    The rest of Ron's evening progressed smoothly, and the
party eventually broke up around 11:00.  Ron addressed each of his
guests as they departed, Jill now hanging on his arm.  When the last
guest had left, Ron closed up the house, and they both headed up to his
bedroom.
 
    As soon as the bedroom door was closed, Jill began removing
her dress.  Ron stood back and admired her figure as she did.  The
black gown slid smoothly off her shoulders, revealing her fair skin to
his gaze.  Her back was turned to him, but as the dress fell past her
hips, he could enjoy the unobstructed view of her glorious ass, which
was not covered by panties or pantyhose.  She removed her shoes as she
stepped out of the dress, now pooled on the floor.
 
    Her back still turned to him, Jill's hands slid up and down
her sides.  Ron moved to her, slipping his hands around her waist and
pulling her softly to him.  Gingerly, he pressed his lips to the nape
of her neck, allowing only the briefest of contact before moving to a
new place, and repeating the gesture.  The quietest of moans escaped
her lips as he continued to lightly caress her skin with his lips.  She
could feel his hard cock pressing into her from behind, and it excited
her to know she would soon have it inside her.
 
    Ron moved his hands from her waist up her sides, skirting
the very edges of her breasts, moving past her shoulders, and up to her
neck.  Lightly he massaged the muscles there, not so much to relieve
stress as to simply make contact.  Slowly, he worked his way down her
neck to her shoulders, again caressing gently, to feel her smooth flesh
beneath his fingers.  His fingers brushed softly down her back as he
knelt behind her.  His hands rested momentarily on the globes of her
ass, and he had the irresistible urge to kiss the flesh before him.  He
lavished wet kisses across both her ass cheeks, as his hands
manipulated the flesh.
 
    He moved his hands further down, stroking the silky skin of
her well-defined legs.  Once his hands had reached her ankles, he rose
slowly to his feet, allowing his hands to coast lightly across her
skin, making the barest of contacts.  He could feel her shudder with
the anticipation of it.
 
    Jill's head was tilted back slightly, and her eyes were
closed as he moved around to face her.  Her eyes did not open as he
took her head in his hands, and guided her mouth to his.  Their lips
merged in a sensuous kiss, her tongue quickly pressing into his mouth. 
He allowed his hands to once more roam her back as they embraced each
other, their mouths locked together.
 
    They continued to kiss for many moments, their tongues
dancing as their hands roamed.  Eventually, Ron broke the kiss as his
hands reached her breasts.  He lifted one breast up, and took the
nipple into his mouth, sliding his tongue over it as he sucked on it,
making it a hard nub.  His other hand softly kneaded the flesh of the
other breast, occasionally stroking the nipple to keep it hard.  Jill's
moans were clearly audible now, her body becoming fully aroused.
 
    Ron switched breasts, and sucked the other nipple into his
mouth.  He ever so gently bit down on her nipple, as he lightly twisted
the other with his fingers.  She exhaled a harsh "oh!" and shivered
with the sensation.  Ron felt as if he could suck her tits all night,
but there was a sweeter reward waiting for him.  He could smell her
arousal, and he knew she was already wet for him.
 
    He released her tit from his mouth, and guided her over to
the bed.  He laid her down softly, and knelt between her parted legs. 
He could now see her juices dripping from her pussy, just waiting to be
lapped up.  He moved his mouth to her hole, and his tongue gathered her
juices.  Jill's body was jolted with a shock of pleasure on contact,
and she began to writhe under his attentions.
 
    Ron continued to stroke her pussy with his tongue, slowly
caressing the entire length of her slit, and then very lightly flicking
the tip of his tongue against her clit.  He kept this up as her arousal
grew to a fever pitch.  He started to move his tongue faster, wiggling
it back and forth across her pussy lips, driving her ecstasy even
higher.  When he felt she could take no more, he sucked her clit into
his mouth, and lashed it rapidly with the tip of his tongue.
 
    Jill's body was caught in the best orgasm of her life.  Her
back arched, and her legs clamped around Ron's head.  As her body
convulsed with the joy of it, she released several screams that would
have been painfully loud, had Ron's ears not been covered by her
thighs.  Ron continued to suck on her clit throughout her orgasm, which
finally peaked, and both her screams and her gyrations began to
settle.  When she released Ron's head from her vise-like grip, he
looked up to see her body bathed in sweat, shimmering in the room
light.  Her chest was heaving as she gasped for breath, and the sight
of her tits rising and falling made him eager for more.
 
    He allowed her to catch her breath, as he watched her
recover, growing more excited as he did so.  Once she had caught her
breath, he simply gestured to her, and she sat up to embrace him.  She
began to tug at his shirt, pulling it free from his pants, unbuttoning
it, and then pulling it off his arms.  She threw it haphazardly toward
a corner, but didn't notice where it fell, as she was busy kissing and
licking at Ron's nipples.
 
    Her attention stayed focused for only a few moments before
she began to work on Ron's belt.  She got this open, and immediately
undid his pants, pushing them down off his hips.  The bulge in his
underwear was obvious, and she caressed it softly with her hand before
hooking her fingers into the waistband and carefully pulling his briefs
down to join his pants.
 
    Without any hesitation, Jill engulfed Ron's prick to the
hilt.  He could feel her throat muscles constrict against his cock,
urging his cum from his balls.  Her tongue played along the underside
of his dick, and she moaned softly with the feel of her full mouth. 
Ron enjoyed the feel as she started to move her mouth on his shaft,
keeping up the suction as she moved her mouth up his cock, leaving just
the head in her mouth as she ran her tongue all around the tip.  She
then pushed her mouth all the way back down his rod until her nose was
once again buried in his pubic hair.  She continued this pace as her
hand gently fondled his balls, trying to coax his cum out of them.
 
    Ron used all his control to make this session last as long
as possible.  When Jill began to pick up the pace, he knew he wouldn't
last much longer.  She used her free hand to grasp the base of his
shaft, helping to stave off his climax for a while longer, but even
that had to give eventually.
 
When he came, it exploded from the tip of his cock, splattering the
back of her throat with his seed.  Without missing a beat, she
swallowed it all, and kept right on sucking until every last drop had
been cleaned from his cock.
 
    With her mouth continuing to wrap itself around his dick,
Ron was still quite hard, and ready for an even warmer and tighter
hole.  He released his cock from her mouth, and stood up, removing his
pants and underwear as he did so.  He motioned her onto all fours, her
head on a pillow, and her ass raised high in the air.  He could see the
contractions of her pussy muscles, eager to have something to clamp
onto.
 
    With no further delay, Ron pressed his cock to her
opening.  She released a grunt of pleasure as the head of his dick
penetrated her pussy lips.  He steadily pressed into her until his
shaft was fully buried in her cunt.  They remained that way for a few
seconds, as he reached forward to fondle her tits.  But he needed this
as badly as she did, and so he grasped her hips, and began to rut into
her wildly.
 
    With each thrust into her, she grunted in pleasure and
rammed her hips back at him, trying to push him farther into her hole. 
She reached her hand down and began to frig her clit, exciting herself
further.
 
    Ron grew tired of this position, and used his mental power
to turn her over without even slowing down.  Though she was somewhat
shocked, she was too aroused to care, and continued to thrust herself
onto him.  He held her off the bed now, his hands and hips moving her
back and forth in mid-air, pounding into her mercilessly, driving them
both toward orgasm.
 
    He moved again, this time laying himself on the bed, with
her above him.  She used her legs to drive herself up and down on his
dick, her hair flailing and her tits bouncing as she moved.  Ron
reached up and held her tits, kneading the soft flesh.  As their bodies
moved faster, their moans of pleasure grew louder, until they were both
screaming in elation as their bodies flashed back and forth, pounding
into each other at a feverish pace.
 
    As all such encounters should, this coupling ended
gloriously.  Both Ron and Jill reached their climax at the same moment,
and their mutual pleasure drove the other to even greater heights of
ecstasy.  Their bodies twisted and writhed in the throes of passion,
their screams and moans echoed off the walls, filling the room with the
sounds of their lovemaking.  Their joy grew higher and higher until
both of them reached the point of no return, and they each blacked out
from the pleasure overload.
 
 
 
-----
 
 
 
    Back at the CAMP compound, James was close to panic.  He
knew they'd felt his intrusion, and he'd heard her tell them to come
after him.  He could feel a number of individuals running in his
direction, but he couldn't get a clear read on how many there were.  He
mentally vaulted himself over the wall, and landed on clear ground
outside the compound.  Looking around, he thought, *Why in the hell did
they pick this place?  There are no trees, nothing to hide in.  Fuck.* 
What he saw before him were miles and miles of flat, arid land.  The
tallest plant in sight was less than two feet tall, and would barely
hide a jackrabbit.  He began running.  If he flew, he'd have to use
mental power, and he knew they could track him that way.  He moved as
fast as he could, using his mental abilities to shield his presence. 
It was dark, and maybe they would miss him in the darkness.
 
    He heard them come over the fence, and his hopes of getting
lost in the dark vanished, as a bright spotlight pierced the night. 
Obviously, they had enough people with them that they could afford to
waste one carrying heavy equipment.  But he had an idea.
 
    Stopping briefly, he projected a giant firebird hovering
over them.  While they dealt with the creature, he engaged his powers,
and flew toward the city as fast as he could.  Hobbs wasn't a large
town, but it was big enough for him to get lost in, he hoped.
 
    The Russians were in no danger from the firebird, but they
had to take time to discern whether there was real energy behind the
imagery.  Having decided there wasn't, they continued their search for
James.  Immediately, one picked up his mental pulses.  "He's headed for
the town!"
 
 
 
-----
 
 
 
    Reaching the city of Hobbs in just under a minute and a
half, James looked for a good hiding place. He spied the tallest
building in town, and headed for it.  The Broadmoor Tower was only five
stories tall, but it contained enough rooms and partitions to keep them
guessing for a long time.  He used his extension to remove a window on
the third floor, and resealed it after he was inside.  He prowled the
office he was now in, looking for a good place to hole up.  Though
James was a strong psionic, he couldn't take on so many of them alone. 
He knew these were the Russians' best people, and one of them might
just be as strong as he was.  He couldn't take that chance, and so he
had to hide.
 
 
 
-----
 
 
 
    The search team pinpointed the building James had chosen
within seconds of his doing so.  Though they didn't know where he was
inside, it wasn't really important.  Their orders were specific: seek
and destroy.  Focusing their energies together, they easily collapsed
the building, reducing a sixty-foot-tall building to a ten-foot pile of
rubble.
 
 
 
-----
 
 
 
    James had quickly crashed out of the falling structure,
flashing off at a high rate of speed for someplace with more cover.  He
chose a residential area, and slipped into a house through an open
window.
 
    But his misfortune continued, as the window led to the
bedroom of a teenage girl.  Upon seeing a man dressed in black slipping
through her window, she reacted naturally, and let out an ear-splitting
scream before he thought to stop her.  By the time he'd gotten full
control of her, and had her back to sleep, he could already hear
rustling from another part of the house.  The bedroom door burst open
to reveal a large, fat man wearing nothing but boxer shorts, and
wielding a very large shotgun.
 
    Rather than try to reason with an obviously dangerous
person, James reached out his mind, and snapped the neck of the man. 
*Sorry, bud, but better you than me.*  

    He returned to looking out the window for his pursuers. 
One of them was bound to have heard the scream, or was able to sense
the distress in this house.  He needed to move to a new location.
 
    But as he was about to slip back out the window, the roof
of the house was torn off to reveal his attackers.  The young girl was
crushed under a pile of debris as James plunged out the window, and
flew off, darting over fences and around trees.  He knew he had to stop
flying, but first he had to get far enough ahead of them to make it a
viable option.  He increased his speed to four hundred knots, and raced
across town in a flash.  He couldn't maintain this speed for long, but
he didn't have to.  He landed in a rather well-off neighborhood, and
figured the larger houses would make him harder to find.  He had landed
in the very middle of a street, and now, cloaking his mental powers as
best he could, he looked for an easy way into a house.
 
    The searchers had been able to track him most of the way,
and had a good idea of the area James was in, but once he stopped using
his powers, they had very little to track in on.  They landed,
ironically, in the same spot he had, but he was nowhere to be found
now.  

    The team leader started directing.  "Vanya, you try those
houses.  Pyotr, those.  Stefan, search back yards, and see if you can
searchlight him.  Susan, try to run a perimeter around this
neighborhood.  I will keep an overview, in case he tries to slip out of
here.  Now, *go!*"
 
    Each of the team members went off to do as they were told. 
Vanya and Pyotr started a mental search of each house in turn.  As
desirable as it might be just to level the entire neighborhood, that
would drain their abilities too far, and he might escape.  They had to
be ready for anything.
 
    Susan began a quick fly-by of the entire neighborhood,
looking for movement and mental signatures as she went, but finding
only dogs and cats.  Stefan used both his light, and a mental search
beam, to look for people who were awake and mobile.
 
 
 
-----
 
 
 
    James was huddled in the kitchen of a very expensive house,
hoping like hell that no one in the house woke up.  He could see the
searchlight spilling across the yard through the window.  He was
staying as far away from that window as possible.
 
    Suddenly, he heard footsteps shuffling toward the kitchen. 
The only way out of the kitchen that wasn't *toward* the sound was out
the back door, and that was definite suicide.  He prepared to use his
martial arts skills to subdue the poor innocent as they entered the
kitchen.
 
    When the steps reached the kitchen door, James froze.  He
was staring down at what had to be no more than a four-year-old child. 
The child showed surprise, but strangely no fear.  Quickly, James put a
finger to his lips.  He whispered, "I'm playing a game of hide and seek
with my friends.  They're looking for me outside, so I decided to come
indoors.  They'll never find me in here!"  He smiled and winked.  The
child smiled back.  "Now why don't you just go back to bed, and I'll
tell you all about it in the morning."
 
    "I want a glass of water," the child said tiredly.
 
    James got him a glass of water, and sent him back off to
bed.  *Shit that was close.*  He glanced back out the window, and saw
that the search team had moved down the block.  Quickly, quietly, he
slipped out the back door.  He could feel their search in his head.  He
knew where they were, but they weren't yet able to find him.  That
advantage would only last so long, if he stayed in the area.  He had to
find a way out.
 
    Hopping a fence into another, thankfully dog-free, yard, he
hunched behind some bushes as he felt the presence of another psionic
pass close by.  That would be the patroller, keeping the area cordoned
off so he couldn't get out.  He could feel the two moving up the
street, searching houses.  It was a good thing he had left, they were
just now looking into the house he had been in.  If they'd had time to
do a thorough scan, they could detect his leftover bio-energy, but they
were moving too swiftly for that.  He could see the one using the
spotlight, and knew that, for the moment, he was safely hidden from
him.  Finally, he spotted the leader, hovering high above the scene.
 
    The plan he'd developed over the last few minutes was
risky.  It meant there would be one less pursuer, but it also meant
he'd have to move quickly away from his present location, without being
spotted.
 
    Pinpointing the leader in his fixed location above them
all, James began to build up his mental energy, while keeping it masked
from their search.  He developed all his powers into a single massive
thrust.  Making sure that the leader wasn't moving around, he focused
his attention on that spot in the sky.  Suddenly, he dumped the energy
from his masking effort into the energy ball, and unleashed it at his
unknowing victim.
 
    The ball, actually visible with power, lanced at the speed
of thought up to its intended target, who never saw it coming. 
Engulfing his body, it fried every synapse and nerve ending in his
body.  Instantly dead, his body plummeted to the ground.
 
    James was already on the move before the body even began to
fall.  He knew that the searchers' initial reaction would be to go to
their commander.  It gave him a little time.  He moved to the edge of
the patroller's path, waiting for her to go to the aid of her leader. 
When she did, he darted across her path, but she was looking in the
other direction, and he was once again masking himself.  Quickly and
silently he moved, hopping fences and darting around trees, keeping his
skills masked lest they feel him power up.
 
 
 
-----
 
 
 
    The Russian team raced to their leader, to find him lying
lifeless on the ground.  They looked at each other in rage, and quickly
raised off the ground.  Upon reaching several hundred feet above the
ground, they each poured their full mental strength into a mental
searchlight effort, trying to pinpoint any mind that might be a psionic.
 
 
 
-----
 
 
 
    James could sense the searchlighting, and he had to be
careful not to let his mind react.  The psionic mind will normally
reflect such an "attack" automatically, and he needed his mind to
simply accept it, otherwise they could pinpoint him by the "reflection"
his mind made.
 
    He was moving quickly down a street, his mind totally
focused on his masking technique, when bad luck struck again.  As he
passed by one fence, a large and ferocious dog banged against the chain
link fence, barking madly at him.  His concentration was shattered, and
his mind left a clear reflection for his pursuers.  Enraged, he reached
out mentally and crushed the dog's testicles, happily hearing its yelps
of pain and terror, before he moved on, once more taking to the air to
make a speedy escape.  He knew that now they were angry, his little
hide-and-seek maneuver wouldn't work again.  He had to find a way to
take them down, at least temporarily.
 
    Searching his memory, he thought of a plan, and headed for
the south end of town.  He could feel them closing in on him, and that
was precisely what he needed just now.  *There!  The electric power
plant!*  Around the plant were dozens of high tension lines.  Barely
visible at all at night, he could read their high-energy signature and
avoid them.  He moved to a position where he was literally surrounded
by a maze of them, and hovered.  He focused a projection at his
targets, making them think he was further away than he was, and masking
the power lines altogether.  Then he waited.
 
    In their rage, the four remaining team members did not
think to check that what they saw was the truth.  Their target was
*there*, and that's where they were going.  The new leader, Stefan,
flew into three separate high-tension lines.  Hundreds of thousands of
volts, and hundreds of amps arced over his body, charring his internal
organs and short-circuiting his nervous system.  The remaining three
members of the team were able to pull up in time to avoid the lines,
but the bright sparking of the electrical lines hid James as he thrust
up into the sky, not stopping until he was a thousand feet above the
scene.
 
    The three remaining attackers quickly noted his presence
above them.  Susan fired a burst of energy toward him, which he managed
to duck just in time.  Luckily, it had been a free-release burst, and
she was not guiding it.  The other two also began to fire short energy
blasts at him, which he continually had to dodge.  In the bright
flashes, he managed to weave his way into a position they weren't
looking at.  He projected himself in front of them, and had his
projection split into three and dive on them.  Meanwhile, he locked his
sights on Pyotr and plunged down out of the sky toward his back.
 
    The three were blasting loads of energy at the projections,
but were hitting nothing.  They couldn't yet tell that none of the
three was real because the projections were spinning and swirling
around each other.  Pyotr finally sensed something approaching him, and
turned to see his death.  James was fifteen feet from him, and diving
at incredible speed.  James' extension protected his own body, but to
Pyotr it was like being hit by a jet airplane.  The force of the impact
cracked his sternum, sending shards of it, and broken pieces of rib,
into the lungs and heart.  Pierced through, the heart stopped beating
immediately.  With no heart activity, and with his lungs leaking air
into the chest cavity, he fell three hundred feet to the ground.  James
vanished his illusions, and flew at high speed away from the area
before the other two even noticed that their comrade was down.
 
    But now they were even more furious.  The chase blasted
over empty fields and sleeping towns as the two Russians chased him
across the barren landscape.  Swiftly he moved, but they were just as
swift.  He barely kept out of their reach.  Then an idea occurred to
him.
 
    Focusing his thoughts as Ron had taught him, James slowly
managed to make himself invisible.  He stopped dead still in the air,
and watched his pursuers approach, not slowing, and not attacking.  He
realized that they weren't concentrating hard enough to sense him in
his invisible state.  They continued right past him, probably thinking
that they couldn't see him because of the darkness.  Turning to pursue
them now, James increased his speed to close with the woman, Susan.
 
    Susan was still searchlighting ahead of her, trying to find
him.  He had suddenly vanished off of her mental scope, and she was
frantically searching the skies for him.  But she wasn't looking behind
herself.
 
    James was flying just above and behind the woman, and he
took just a moment to enjoy the anticipation of ending her life.  Then,
knowing how it would disorient, he made himself visible, and pulsed his
mental energy into high-output.  It was the equivalent of exploding a
flashbulb in someone's face, and even her flying faltered momentarily.
 
    A moment was all James needed.  He plunged down onto her
back, grasping her head with his hands.  She had time to scream,
"Vanya!" before he snapped her neck so sharply that it actually turned
around to face him.  He looked down into her eyes, watching the life
fade from them.
 
    "Fuck you, bitch," he said emotionlessly.  Then he released
her, and watched as her body fell a thousand feet to the rocky ground
below.  He felt the energy wave coming, and raised his shields to full
power before it arrived.  Vanya, seeing the last of his comrades
falling to her death, emitted a full-energy blast wave at James.
 
    Though he had been prepared for it, the energy wave still
sent James flying backward, hurtling toward the ground at a hundred
feet a second.  He recovered at just two hundred feet, and swiftly
dropped himself to the ground to be on stable footing.  Vanya was right
behind him, swooping down to a landing only a hundred feet away.
 
    The two men squared off against each other, both on the
defensive, waiting for the other to make a mistake.  Suddenly,
something flashed in James' peripheral vision, and he quickly turned to
see what it was.  Unfortunately for him, it had been a decoy by the
Russian, who now landed a solid attack against him.  James was pushed
backward, plowing a furrow in the hard ground as his body was scraped
along the hard surface.  He managed to stop himself before he was
bashed against a large boulder.  James formed a mental wall to block
out the Russian's attack.  It held, and he began to press it toward
Vanya.  The strain on Vanya's face was evident, as he tried to fight
off the attack by the American.  From somewhere deep inside, Vanya
pulled a reserve of power, and lanced through James' wall of energy,
sending James flying into the boulder, dazing him momentarily.  Vanya
took advantage of that, and used his extension to raise James high
above the ground, and pull him downward.  Only James' quick reformation
of his extension saved him from having his skull cracked open on the
hard-packed ground.
 
    James righted himself, and fought off the physical controls
of Vanya.  He focused his power into two energy birds, sending them
flying in two different directions.  Vanya, thinking these were more
illusions, ignored them, and pressed the attack.  Though James almost
made a grave error here, he quickly formed a shield that kept him safe
long enough for his birds to get behind Vanya.  Then, from above and
behind him, the energy birds dove out of the sky.  Piercing the back of
his skull, where he was unprotected, the energy birds lanced through
his body, destroying  his vital organs.
 
    Vanya had enough power left for one final assault, and he
lashed every last erg of power he had at James.  James, somewhat
drained from the bird attack, wasn't ready, and was thrown fifty feet
backward.  As he was falling, he noticed that there was no ground
beneath him.  Their flying had taken them to a very different terrain,
and he was now falling into a deep chasm.  He hadn't the energy to fly
himself out of this, but he could guide his fall.  He found a fairly
smooth edge, and glided toward it.  As his body almost contacted the
edge, he reached out to grab whatever he could.  He had managed to slow
his body enough to make this a non-futile gesture, but he almost lost
his grip anyway.
 
    Here he was, victorious over the Russians, and if his
strength didn't hold out, he was going to die anyway.  He was
determined to make it to the top of the chasm, which he judged to be no
more than fifty feet away.  He scrambled for handholds and footholds
while keeping in mind that, if he fell, he had no energy reserve left
to stop himself.  He carefully crawled up the rocks, making sure to
never put his hands on loose material, and keeping his feet as directly
under him as he could.
 
    Finally, after nearly a half hour of climbing, he yanked
himself over the lip of the chasm, and rolled onto his back, staring up
at the starry sky.  *God damn it!  I'm supposed to be the best,
strongest fighter in CAMP!  Those guys are too powerful!  I don't think
we can win this thing.*  With that bleak thought in his head, James
passed out.
 
 
 
...---=== http://netwolf.wolfpub.org ===---...
 
 
 
    When Karen interrupted his thoughts, Ron had been thinking
about the previous night with his movie star.  He was glad he'd decided
to bring her here, to protect her through the war.  If Hollywood was
still around after that, well, maybe they could have her back.  And
then again, maybe not.
 
    He shook his head to refocus his attention on Karen. 
"Sorry, I was daydreaming.  What's up?"
 
    "We've got a minor problem.  We have six unassigned girls
in the facility."
 
    "Shit.  I hadn't thought about that."  Ron thought for a
few seconds.  "Okay, call up Bill Simmons, and Brian Deneuve, and see
if they want one or two.  See if you can locate Mr. Balcore, and see if
he'd like a parting gift.  Other than that... well, see how many you
have left after that."
 
    "Okay, will do."  She left the room, and Ron decided to
begin packing up his sensitive computer data for storage in a safe
location during the war.  As he ran through his disks, he came across
one he'd nearly forgotten about.  Labeled, "Research Disk 2: Beyond
CAMP", he quickly recalled that this was The Weapon.  He shivered at
the thought of what this disk could do, and sincerely hoped he'd never
have to reveal its existence.  He packed it in with the rest of his
disks, not setting it apart in any way, and continued with his work.
 
    It took him hours to sort through the material, and he was
very glad to be interrupted by Karen once more.  He needed the break.
 
    "Ron, I took care of most of our problem.  *This,*" she
said, indicating a very pretty young girl with short black hair beside
her, "Is Cindy.  She's the last of our... research students."
 
    "I see," replied Ron.  <*What was her previous life?*> he
asked telepathically.
 
    <*Runaway.  I checked, her parents are actually dead, she
ran away from an orphanage which has long since given up looking for
her.  We can't send her back where she came from.>*
 
    "Okay," Ron said, continuing the conversation out loud.  "I
guess she'll have to remain with us."  Ron looked her over.  "You are a
very pretty young lady," he said to her.
 
    "Thank you, sir," she said deferentially, her head bowed.
 
    "Karen, there's a tape in my facility office marked
'Submissive 403'.  Use that on our friend here, then take her to Megan,
and tell Megan to show her the ropes."
 
    "Okay, no problem.  Any... other changes you'd like to
make?"
 
    "No.  I like my girls the way they are."  He smiled at the
young lady, who couldn't have been any older than he was, and she
smiled very shyly back at him, while shrinking even further into
herself in self-consciousness.
 
    Karen led the young lady out, and Ron continued his sorting
and packing, trying to put all of the important materials together in
what he'd discovered to be a psionic-proof box.  Though the box itself
could be torn apart, or moved around psionically, it couldn't be
scanned without opening it.  The interior of the box was lined with a
complex pattern of gold, copper, and steel strands.  Somehow, these
fibers either absorbed or redirected the psionic energy.  But all of
his attempts at making this into some kind of practical shield for his
family had mysteriously failed.  He wondered once again if the box
itself had something to do with it, but didn't have time to riddle over
it just now.  He centered his attention, and got back to work.
 
 
 
-----
 
 
 
    He was still working three hours later when Cindy came in
and interrupted him.  Her reprogramming was obviously complete, since
she was wandering the house alone.  He did a quick scan to see that his
program had, in fact, taken hold properly.  Satisfied, he smiled at the
girl.  "Hi, Cindy.  What's up?"
 
    "Master," she said shyly, "There is a man at the door who
insists on speaking with you.  Megan told me never to admit someone
without your explicit approval..."  She let the sentence trail off.
 
    Ron stood and moved over to her.  "You did very well,
Cindy."  She smiled broadly at his praise.  He stood above her, as she
was only 5'1", and he was now 5'9" tall.  He leaned down, and tilted
her face up to meet his, their lips touching briefly in a soft and
sensuous kiss.  "I hope you like it here.  I think you'll fit in very
nicely."  She stood in stunned rapture as her master left the room.
 
 
 
-----
 
 
 
    He walked to the door to see James, or what was left of
him, leaning against the doorframe.
 
    "Linda!  Megan!"  he called.  He went over to grab James'
arm, and started to help him inside.  As the two ladies arrived, Ron
said, "Megan, get him something to drink, and the first aid kit. 
Linda, help me get him to the couch."
 
    After being cleaned up and given refreshments, James was
ready to tell his story.  But before he began, he noticed Lars, who was
unfamiliar to him, and, James could tell, a psionic.  "Who's he?"
 
    "He's a friend.  He can be trusted."
 
    James took that at face value, and began to tell his tale. 
Over the next few minutes, he related the basics of the whole story. 
He saved his bombshell for the very end.
 
    "...The group is fully mixed, but they're led by a woman. 
Someone we both know."
 
    Ron looked perplexed.  "Who?"
 
    "Well, apparently her real name is Zinaida Dostoyeva, but
we both know her better as Michelle Donalli."
 
    There was utter silence in the room.  Even Lars had been
told about  Michelle.  Ron was the only one capable of speech.
 
    "Bullshit."
 
    "Hey, go ahead and scan me if you want.  Hell, I'd rather
you did, that way *I* know it really happened, and I'm not just
imagining it."
 
    So Ron did.  For the next twenty minutes, he played and
replayed each event of the night.  When he finished, Megan brought both
him and James more refreshments.
 
    "Shit."
 
    "Ron?"  Karen asked.
 
    "It's her.  It's Michelle.  We're up against our own
friend.  Or former friend, I guess.  And, goddammit, she *knows* me. 
She knows how I fight.  She knows how I think.  That's going to make
her hard to defeat."  Ron turned to James.  "That means you're the only
remaining member of the CAMP Committee.  What are you going to do?"
 
    "I'm getting the fuck out of here.  I'm gonna find some
tiny island in the middle of fucking nowhere, and I'm going to hide in
the hope that they can't find me.  You aren't gonna beat them.  Hell, I
nearly didn't beat just the five that were after me!  I tell you what,
if you somehow manage to win, you come find me, *then* we can talk
about what's left of CAMP."  He was standing now.
 
    Ron stood to face him squarely, only a few feet away. 
"You'd better hope I don't find you, James.  Because, if we have to
fight this war without you, one way or another, I'm gonna kick your
fucking ass all over the motherfucking planet.  Get out of my house."
 
    Without another word, James left the Chaffey house.  It was
another defeat, because Ron had planned on James' strength in the
coming war.  But maybe he could find allies elsewhere.  Turning to Lars
he said, "Contact the Dragon's Heart.  I'm ready to join up."
 
 
 
...---=== http://netwolf.wolfpub.org ===---...
 
...---=== http://netwolf.wolfpub.org ===---...
 
