Alien Mine Ch. 02a

Chapter 2a Alien Trouble

Sandy and Amancia walked into the shower in Rhys's room. It was easily big enough for two, Sandy had showered with Rhys many times over the last 6 months. As she turned on the water and Amancia adjusted the showerhead, she felt a sense of satisfaction doing as Rhys had instructed.

Amancia looked at her with a puzzled and concerned expression on her face as she said, "Sandy, something is not right. What is going on with us, why are we here with Rhys, and where did these breast's come from."

"I don't know," said Sandy reaching for her trying to reassure her. "Even scarier," Amancia said, pulling sandy into a hug, "is that this feels right, I am totally pleased to have these," she said, gesturing at her chest, "and I just told Rhys "yes sir" when he said to go take a shower. I feel like I should be having a fucking nervous breakdown, but saying yes sir and doing what he said makes me feel good and horny," she added with a sigh. "I mean, I was sexually submissive with you, but I am not into guys at all, ever, but now suddenly I am wet and thinking about fucking your boyfriend just because he told me to go take a shower!"

Sandy hugged her as the water flowed over them, enjoying the feeling of their breasts pressed together, her nipples hardening. "I know," said Sandy, "I feel the same way. Yesterday I would have kicked him in the balls for trying to fuck you, now it just turns me on. The only thing I can think that is hotter is me fucking him.

And by the way, I am at least a cup size bigger as well, I must be pushing a double D, and I cannot feel any implants."

"They are nice," said Amancia reaching up to cup them. Sandy gasped as she felt fingers running over her nipples. She reached up and grabbed Amancia's hands, pulling them away.

"Very sensitive," Sandy said to Amancia's questioning look, "it felt like you were rubbing my clit." Amancia pulled Sandy's hands down to her own nipples.

"Shit that feels good," she said as her clit suddenly throbbed as Sandy stroked her nipples. Amancia suddenly squealed as she felt the fingers tighten and pinch.

Letting go of Amancia was difficult, but trying to stay calm for some reason was not that hard, Sandy took a breath and said, "let's wash and get something to eat like we were told, perhaps we can all figure this out over breakfast." The two girls took turns washing each other, while they both wished Rhys was with them. They dried and walked into the kitchen, neither noticing that they were still naked and had not bothered to put any clothes on. When they got to the kitchen, Rhys was lying on the floor, out cold. Rushing over to him, they pulled him up and got him onto the couch.

When the girls left to shower, Rhys had turned to the kitchen to start breakfast again. The surreal feeling did not go away, nor did the pleasant memories of the two very naked women in the shower. He was tempted to join them but decided they might never get to eat if he did. As he was going through the motions of cooking, he kept hearing that distant voice in my head, then suddenly "felt something click" in his mind, suddenly the voice that had been whispering became stronger.

In a calm and quieter voice, he heard, "Rhys, I have tried to heal you, but you need to remember who you are and what has happened." Strange, he thought, I know who I am, Rhys Smith, formally of the US Army, more recently a special operator (contractor) for hire for assignments that are dangerous enough that people turn to people like me to get them done.

That means deniability for the employer and high risk for the employee, meaning me. That's also why I am so well paid for what I do.

"That's good Rhys he heard the voice say, now remember your last job, who employed you and what happened to you." Memories suddenly came with a rush as something in his mind opened up. It was as if he was watching a movie on fast forward. Meetings with former bosses, and then finally the primary contact, agreeing to a long term contract (and very high paying) but unknown assignment that was expected to last one year. Traveling to a remote area of west Texas and seeing an honest to God space ship. As the memories started to come back, it felt like his mind was overloading, and he lost consciousness again, falling to the floor.

Growing up, I was an average kid, average height, weight, nothing special. What I was known for was a bulldog-like drive. Once I got something into my head, I would stay at it until I had solved the problem, either mentally or physically. When I made up my mind to do something, I went at the task with a single-minded effectiveness.

After college, I went into the Army and applied the same determination and results-driven attitude to combat. As a platoon and then company commander, my guys always had the best kill rates and the fewest casualties. I was good at what I did, and killing the enemy the most effective way possible was my goal. While I would not say I enjoyed combat, I did not back down when it came to a fight.

I had no reaction other than satisfaction when I pulled the trigger or led an attack that resulted in enemy casualties. That lack of response or remorse concerned some of my superiors, and the Army psychologists seemed to think I was one step away from taking the war to the civilian population. They were wrong; I was just good at what I did, a warrior. But the Army thought different, so we parted ways.

What concerned the Army Psych's did not seem to concern other parts of the government and industry, who quickly approached him about special assignments that were generally off the books. He took some of the jobs offered but could be particular as the pay was generous and under the table.

Then a few months ago, Rhys was approached very quietly about a longer-term assignment. The offer was 200k upfront if he took the job and another 200k at the end of a year plus expenses. Rhy usually would not touch an offer like this, but it was from some people he had done a couple of jobs for in the past, and they seemed above board. At any rate, he decided to see at least what the job entailed.

A week later, driving down a dirt road in west Texas in a jeep Rhys had rented, he checked his 45 cal 1911 sitting next to him on the seat. He did not usually fly with a weapon, but the strangeness of this proposed job had him taking extra safety measures. The airlines will transport a gun in checked baggage, so all he had to do was buy ammunition once he got off the plane. He also brought along the knife at his back and the one in his boot, and some expensive body armor.

Rhy looked around as he drove, trying to get a feel for the area. It was bleak, flat with just some brush and a lot of flat desert and oil rigs pumping along the road. If it wasn't for the oil, no one would choose to live here, hot, flat, and dull countryside.

Rhys checked the GPS for the coordinates (none of these roads are on google map) and noted that he was almost there. The dirt road ended in what looked like an abandoned oil storage and pumping facility, but he did not see any other vehicles. Driving around the area didn't reveal anything, so he stopped the jeep, grabbed the 45 and put it in the holster at his waist, and stepped out into the hot sand. It was fall, but still hot outside, temperature in the high 80's, dry and windy. Rhys could see why no one wanted to live here. Except for the wind, it was quiet, no sound except for the few flies buzzing around.

Rhys scouted out the area, wondering if his contact had changed his mind. There was an old rusted building, oil storage tank, and various pieces of rusted pipe and what looked like pumps and drilling equipment. It appeared as though this stuff had been left here and forgotten.

He had been paid for my travel (first-class), so it did not seem likely that no one would show, but you never know in this line of work, hence the 45 and the knife. Because of the money, Rhy was willing to wait, but sunset was approaching before he heard a voice calling his name.

Turning around he saw the man known only as Jake step out from behind some scrub bushes by the rusted storage tank. Rhys had not heard any vehicles approach, so he must have either walked from someplace nearby or been dropped earlier and was watching him arrive, presumably to be sure we were alone. Rhys knew little about his contact, though he had completed two jobs for him. A kidnapping rescue in Iraq for a family, and a drug interdiction in Mexico. Both jobs had gone well with the maximum application of force when needed.

Rhys walked over to him, and they just stood there looking at each other. He did not offer to shake Rhys' hand, but he was not surprised, Jake was all business. A bulge at his hip inside his jacket and another at his shoulder suggested he was armed. He took an envelope from his coat pocket, handed it to me without a word.

Rhys glanced through it, confirming it was a bank account number with a $200,000 deposit and contract to pay him as discussed for an assignment that would last up to a year, but with no further details. Looking up, he said, "I am going to have to have some details before even considering this."

" Of course," Jake replied with little expression on his face, "but this time, my employer wishes to meet with you to explain what the job requires."

This was surprising as he had only worked with Jake, but it is not unusual for principles to be involved unless they wanted to stay anonymous. "I cannot tell you any more at this point, as discretion is mandatory in this case," Jake said. "Let me also assure you we are not asking you to do anything you will be uncomfortable with providing you follow our instructions."

Rhys was watching Jake's face, and warning signs started going off loudly in his brain, something about Jake did not look right. Though it was not the first time he had dealt directly with the man, their previous encounters had been at night, and he never really got a good look at him.

Jake's features seemed off somehow, his face seemingly blurred, the proportions off. He had a sudden look of alarm on his face, and Rhys quickly stepped back to the side and slid his hand toward the butt of his gun. Gunfire erupted suddenly, and Jake staggered as he was hit with several rounds in the chest. A sudden pain in his back told Rhys he had been hit as well. Thankfully the vest stopped the bullets, but it felt as though he had been kicked in the back.

Falling to the ground, Rhy pulled his 45 and rolled out of the line of fire. Jake was down, but Rhys could not see much else from behind the tank, but at least he was out of the line of sight. He saw movement from the scrub brush, and two men stepped out with assault rifles, coming toward them.

They were amateurs, or at least not used to dealing with professionals as they walked up thinking they were just going to finish us off. The vest had stopped the AR rounds, and Rhys had his pistol cocked and aimed. The first one stopped to finish off Jake while the second swung toward him. Rhys aimed and squeezed the trigger, easy and smooth, just like on the range. A hole appeared between the man's eyes as a 45 slug blew out the back of his head before he could pull the trigger. The other man spun around, and Rhys fired two shots at him but not as well-aimed.

The angle was wrong, and the man was already moving. One bullet missed, but the second one took him in the chest, automatic fire raking the ground in front of Rhys as the man fell back. Rhys watched as the man struggled to pull his rifle up and aiming higher this time, he put one round into the man's throat and then another into his head. The man jerked back as if he had been hit with a sledgehammer, the rifle falling from his hands, and he was dead before he hit the ground.

Rising from where he was lying, Rhys grabbed a rifle, then went to check on Jake. To Rhys's surprise, he was still breathing and struggled to get up despite taking several bullets to the chest. He should certainly be dead.

"Help me up," Jake gasped, grabbing at his hand to pull himself up onto his feet. "Quickly, I need you to get me away from here," he said as he started stumbling toward the jeep. Rhys shook off his surprise and helped him into the passenger seat before jumping into the driver's seat and heading back toward the road. "Not the road," Jake told him gasping, and he punched in coordinates into the navigation system.

The directions took Rhys off the road and into some rough country. It was a good thing he had the jeep as a car would have never made it. Rhys looked at Jake while driving, expecting to see him die, but he kept breathing, and Rhys noticed that there was not much blood coming out of the wounds. He reached down to check on his pistol, thinking no one could survive those wounds and still be alive.

Rhys drove across the desert scrub and rocks. Everything looked the same out here, and he lost his sense of where they were. Rhys followed the GPS into the distance while keeping an eye on his passenger. Jake was hurt but not dying, and Rhys didn't know what to make of it. He had seen men die before, and Jake had taken several rounds to the chest but was still functioning.

They had been driving about 30 minutes when the jeep came to a steep depression, dropping off further into a small canyon. Rhys brought the vehicle to a stop. "Down there," Jake said, getting out of the jeep as soon as Rhys stopped. Rhys saw Jake touch something on his wrist, and then he lurched down toward the canyon.

Rhys helped him to the edge, where it began to drop off steeply. Looking down, Rhys could see what appeared to be some kind of military transport but larger, much larger, sort of a cross between a vehicle and a helicopter but without the blades. It was huge, at least 100-150 meters long and probably 25 in diameter, but he could not be sure. It looked military but not from any military Rhys was familiar with

"Help me down so I can repair myself," Jake said. At that Rhys balked, he had no idea what was happening or what the vehicle was doing in this empty part of the desert. He stopped and just looked at Jake, trying to make up his mind if he should leave him here and getaway. "Hurry," Jake said, looking at him, "there will be more coming. If we do not get away, we will certainly be destroyed within minutes. I am sure they can track me here; we must move now. They will know about you as well," he continued, "this is your only chance."

That seemed an odd thing to say, but nothing this afternoon had made sense. The idea that whoever "they were" knew about me provided the motivation. I got Jake down to the vehicle or whatever it was with no small trouble.

It was bigger than it looked from above, a dark metal that seemed to blend into the background. Jake touched the side of the metal, an opening just appeared. Turning to me, he said, "Mr. Smith, please hurry, we must leave this place, and you need to meet your employer." Rhys' mind screamed caution, he stopped, putting a hand on his pistol. "Please, Mr. Smith, there is no need to fear me," Jake said, but he was wasting his time, there was no way Rhys was getting inside the vehicle without knowing more about what was going on. Jake sighed when he realized Rhys was not moving and reached out to put his hand on his shoulder as if to lean on it. When he touched him, Rhys lost consciousness.

Rhys came to laying on a soft table that seemed to envelop him. He was comfortable, but some kind of restraints held him in place. The pistol was out of reach as his arms were restrained. He could move his head enough to see Jake sitting in a chair at his side, waving his hands in front of him as though there were invisible controls. He turned his body to look at him, and Rhys noticed the bullet holes were gone, as though he had never been shot.

"My apologies," Mr. Smith, he said, "I intended this to be a less traumatic introduction but was caught by surprise. The entity you know as Jake has limited abilities and had to be reintegrated to function normally. Unfortunately, we are now under attack." As he said that Rhys felt whatever he was in jerk suddenly and heard what sounded like explosions. "The Om advanced scouts have detected us," Jake said, "we have engaged them, but our ship has taken damage. We intended to take you with us, but that is no longer possible, as we must destroy them before they can report back."

Before Rhys could make sense of what he had been told, there was a sudden noise and a much stronger shaking. Jake quickly grabbed the table Rhys was lying on, and he felt himself begin moving down a passage of some kind. Then a sudden drop through what seemed to be an empty tube running vertically that had him thinking they were falling to their deaths, a gentle stop at what appeared to be a medical (?) facility, but nothing like he had ever seen.

Suddenly the ship or whatever it was seemed to take a hit. It reminded Rhys of a mortar impact. Pieces of the wall came flying through just above him. Rhys saw several hit Jake in the neck and face. Jake staggered away from Rhys to a wall panel that opened when he touched it, and grabbing a strange-looking instrument lunged over to him and placed it against his head. "Good-by, Mr. Smith, and good luck."

This time when I regained consciousness, I was still lying on the kitchen floor, but could not seem to move or get up. Memories seemed intact to a point. Rhys remembered Jake, or whomever or whatever he was, placing the instrument against his head, but nothing in between that and waking up with two beautiful and naked women in his bed. How did I get back to my apartment, and where was I, he thought, how long have I been out.

"You have been here for almost two of your months," a voice answered, "and it took another 15 days to get here from where you left the entity you know as Jake." Stunned, he tried to move, but could only remain lying flat with my eyes closed. "Jake and the Drans were most likely destroyed when their vessel battled the Om," said the voice in my head. I could feel my heart racing and my adrenaline spiked. "I was responsible for getting you back to earth. I have started optimizing you and the two females of your species."

"Ok," I said out loud, "I will play along, who are you, and what do you mean by that?"

"I do not have a name that you would understand, I was placed inside you by the entity you knew as Jake before you were ejected from what your species would refer to as a space ship. We transited from your outer solar system back to your planet, and then into the ocean where I had you swim ashore and made your way back to the house."

Rhys sat there for a few minutes, wondering if any of this could be real. Then he thought about what the voice said about optimizing him, suddenly remembering the crushed doorknob and handle on the refrigerator. "I restructured your physiology to ensure your survival, you were near death when you got back to your apartment Rhys."

"Hmm, what happened to me," he mused, thinking back.

"You were injured in the attack on our vessel. I had to heal you, but there were other problems associated with my mating with you."

That spiked my adrenalin again, my heartbeat suddenly went crazy. "Whoa," I thought, no one is mating with me; "I do not know who or what you are, but you need to get out of my head, or where ever you are."

"I cannot leave, I am part of you. Remember when Jake put the enhancer to your head, the instrument that he touched you with just before you lost consciousness? That instrument transferred me from an embryonic state into your body where I now reside."

"So you are in my head," I thought?