Dan and the Bottle Ch. 17

"I'm not really in the mood tonight, dear... can you just hold me?"

He nodded, with a bit of a sad smile.

"I know what you mean, honey... I think we both saw a bit too much today."

She frowned and nodded. "Yes... those poor women! I thought I had it bad!"

"Best not to dwell on it, my dear... hopefully, they'll heal."

"What about your kids?"

"I know... poor Smithers lost one of his legs, just below the knee... he's likely going to be pensioned. I put him in for an honorable discharge, full pay and bonuses intact. Max called earlier... he lost three people on his team."

"Oh, no! Is he alright?"

"He's fine. A few of his team members got too cocky, tried to get too close to the edge of the woods on the southern edge of that base, and triggered some kind of mine."

"Ouch... "

George nodded. "Well, they all knew what could happen. It's a risky thing, war is."

She nodded, cuddling deeper into his embrace, while he lay there, thinking of the unfairness of it all.

Leeanne lay with her head on Gar's shoulder. They had had much the same conversation.

"Babe?"

"Hmmm?"

"Are you sure we're doing the right thing?"

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"I mean... isn't there some other way to get those 'soldiers' out of the country? Make them want to leave?"

"Not that I can think of, dear... the best way to drive them out is to make it too dangerous to stay... and the only way to do that is to kill so many of them that they know we mean business."

"Yeah... but so many of our people are getting killed at the same time."

"You can't make an omelet..."

"Without breaking some eggs. I know... I just hate having to see the faces of those young women. Telling them it'll be ok, knowing that we might come under attack at any minute. Knowing that every time you leave might be the last time I ever see you. "

He hugged her close. "Honey, don't worry... I had a close call, yes... but I survived, and so did my team. We survived, and the Chinese lost another base. We'll rebuild, we'll recruit, while all they can do is beg for more reinforcements from overseas, that I doubt they have."

He and his small team of scouts had been investigating a block of houses north of the base, and they had found quite a few tripwires and the like... but they'd almost missed a pressure pad, concealed under an old welcome mat. He was almost embarassed to admit that he hadn't been the one to catch it. Susie Cole, a junior member of his scouting team, had seen the wires at the last minute, and had pulled him back from stepping on it.

When he'd told her about it, Leeanne had looked at him with a straight face and quipped "You have my permission to sleep with her."

He'd grinned and pointed out that Sue's husband, also a member of the teams, might object to that.

"So sleep with him too!" was her answer.

He grinned at her before replying... by diving under the covers, pulling her leg over his shoulder, and diving face first into her well trimmed muff, his tongue seeking and finding her sensitive clit. Wiggling his tongue against it furiously for a moment, he looked up at her eyes in the dim light from the hallway lamp that they left on for the boys.

"There's only one woman I want to sleep with, baby!" he replied as he began licking her pussy in earnest.

She lay back further, bringing her knees up as his tongue went to work on her clit, moaning and clutching at his head, pressing his face into her core as her first orgasm approached. He always seemed to sense just what she needed.

Or maybe he was just as horny as she was suddenly feeling.

As she came, he brought a hand up between them, slipping both middle fingers into her tight cunt, and sliding his index finger into the tight ring of her ass, making her hips jump off the mattress for a moment in surprise, sawing all three in and out of her several times as he continued to nibble and suck at her engorged clit. She came hard, leaving his chin and his short goatee, as well as his hand, dripping in her juices, some of her secretions dripping to the finger that he was still shoving in and out of her anus... and giving him an idea...

He suddenly pulled his face away and stood up on his knees, throwing off the covers in the process and grabbing her by the waist, flipping her over on to her belly. Spreading her ass cheeks with one hand, he guided his hardness with the other, until the head was poised at her backdoor, and with one hard shove, buried half of his cock in her not quite ready rectum, eliciting a half moan-half scream from her.

"Oh! God, honey, Let me get ready for That!"

He just grinned as he continued to bull his way into her ass, until he was buried in her to the hilt... then began stroking into her at a pace that got faster with each stroke, until she caught up to the pace he was setting, and they were fucking like rabbits, with her slamming back against him as hard as he was pushing into her.

"OH OH OH! FUCK ME, HONEEEEE!" She moaned as he continued to plow into her bowel, feeling her as she squirted a small amount of her girl-cum out to wash his balls and thighs with her explosive orgasm. That alone was enough, and he erupted, blasting jets of his own cream into her ass until, spent, they collapsed to the mattress together, still joined at the hips, him kissing the back of her neck as his hard on subsided and pulled out of her on its own.

He rolled to his back, and she followed, turning to lay her head on his shoulder, letting her breathing return to normal...

"Geez, babe! What brought that on?"

"I dunno... it just.. felt right."

"Did it ever! You were really throwin' the steel there for a little bit!"

He worked his arm under her, bringing it up so his hand was on her shoulder, and drew her to him, kissing her hard, insinuating his tongue into her mouth to carress her own, kissing and nuzzling her open mouth for long moments.

"You got into the spirit of things after a few moments, babe."

"With my big, strong, handsome man fucking my ass like that? How else would I react?"

She grinned, throwing a leg across his hips, and levered herself up to straddle him, reaching between them for his now half hard again cock, fitting the head to her wide open pussylips and plunging down on him in one hard thrust, riding him slowly, teasingly, as he grew to full hardness inside her.

She winked down at him. "Good boy... it's Momma's turn!"

He just grinned up at her, reaching up to massage her ample tits as she continued to ride him, letting her set the pace.

Archer and Corcoran were going over a map of the region, debating whether to send their 'trader' scouts towards the northwest, and the research facility, or to send them northeast, into the area known as the Black Hills, in an attempt to misdirect the Chinese away from their ultimate goal.

Archer pointed at the area to the northeast. "If we send 'em up this way first, we can have them look over that old motorcycle dealership Lou was talking about. We could use a bunch of those for short range scouts."

"Isn't their range kind of limited?"

Jim nodded. "Any patrol we send 'em on, over about two hundred miles, is going to need to include a pick-up, loaded down with gas cans and other gear... plus a couple of big funnels. Still, they'd be good for keeping an eye on things within, say, a fifty mile radius of the Cave, here, and going into areas where the Humvees are too conspicuous. Those they can do on a single tank of fuel."

"I don't know, Jim... I kinda want to see what we've got to the northwest... If they were workin' on what we think they were workin' on..."

"Could be a game-changer, that's true. Maybe we could send a full battle group up that way... say... I don't know, thirty, forty men?"

"I was thinking more like a hundred. Five, maybe six APC'S, including the one with the two machine cannons, in case they run into anything heavy."

"Won't do anything against a tank."

"Nope... but that's what RPG's and LAWs are for... and they can always call for air support. I want to send a few of the computer geeks along on this one... and a few mechanics, to get the generators up and running. Maybe a few of the scientists, too, to look over everything there, decide what's relevant and what they can leave behind."

Archer nodded, deep in thought for a moment. "You think they might find something else up there?"

Corcoran grinned. "Maybe a few long-forgotten Nuke ICBMs with launch codes, that'd be nice."

Archer gave a wan smile, agreeing with him... but not with high hopes. From all of the accounts left behind by the Founders, there weren't likely to be any of Those left. Hell, he'd settle for the access codes for a few of the spy satellites that were still up, that they hadn't been able to use, so far.

The only scouting patrol they'd sent up that way had reported buildings that had been partially damaged by a nearby bomb blast, but radiation levels were minimal. The place was set up like an office park, not a military testing facility.

Jan lay back, beside her husband, smoking a doobie as they discussed the events of the past few days.

"Damn it, Jan, no! I don't want you going! There are plenty of other techs that we can send!"

She replied calmly "No, Jim... it has to be the best and brightest... and nobody here is as good as I am with that old technology. I'll pick the team, but I have to head it up. You know damned well I'm the best in this place at what I do. Don't worry, you know I can handle a pistol with the best of them. I can take care of myself. Besides, my big, strong husband won't let anything happen to me."

He knew everything she was saying was true, still, it galled him to be upbraided by his wife about this. He raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think I'm planning on going?"

"I know you better than anyone, Jim... you think I haven't noticed how you look, every time you talk about that place? You practically rub your hands together. You can't wait to get back in the field."

He frowned. She was right, of course... as much as he tried to deny it, he was downright bored with the administrative crap, and he was chomping at the bit to get back out there with a rifle in his hands.

They passed the doobie back and forth a few more times, until it was too small to hold onto, then dropped it into the ashtray, letting it go out, each lost in thought.

Finally, she sealed the deal, and the subject, by the simple expedient of unsnapping the crotch of her panties and settling her freshly shaved pussy over his mouth.

He knew what she was doing, of course, but decided to relax to the inevitable as he began fluttering his tongue over her engorged clit. She scooted around, taking his hardness between her lips, sucking at the head like it was her own personal lollipop, until he was good and hard, then spinning around and settling herself over him, taking his entire length in one downward thrust, sitting up on her knees to ride him slowly.

He wasn't having it, though, and grabbed her by the hips, slamming up into her, taking her breath away for just a moment before they were fucking away at rabbit-like speed. It felt almost primal, their need for each other, and for once, she wasn't shushing him, worrying about the kids hearing.

Mickey Miller lay in his hospital bed, wondering when Cassie and Doris would get there and start bitching him out for taking stupid chances. His squad had been one of the first into the small town northwest of the Chinese base, and had chosen a three story house to set up their sniper's nest in, but that was where things had gone horribly wrong.

Bruce Davidson had gone straight in the front door, and all hell had broken loose as the door triggered the trap; at least three small mines, similar to the infamous 'bouncing Bettys', had flown into the air, bursting at shoulder height and wreaking havoc on his entire squad. Seven of his ten man squad had been hit somewhere, with Davidson himself taking two of the steel shot right in the face, killing him instantly.

Mickey himself had been hit in both arms and one leg as well as several hits in the abdomen and chest, and had been in surgery for over six hours, according to the nurse who'd been in earlier. She had changed the saline bag and injected something into the IV line. She couldn't know he was awake; he got the feeling she talked to all of her unconscious patients this way. He tried to answer her, but found that he didn't have enough breath for speech. As much as he tried to fight it, sleep overtook him again as the drugs took effect.

Jeff O'neil woke up in the hospital room to find BJ on one side of his bed, Missy on the other, his leg weighted down with ten pounds of plaster. Somewhere, in the background, one of his favorite CDs was playing, an old Metal Church tune. He vaguely remembered a Chinese soldier running at his squad with an AK, screaming obscenities at the 'American pigs' who were shooting at him and his comrades.

"How long was I out?" he asked... or tried to, at least.

BJ looked at him curiously... it was clear that he was trying to talk, but all that was coming out was a dry, whispering gurgle.

"Don't try to talk, honey... you've got a feeding tube down your throat, and we can't understand you. You're in the hospital, and Doctor Karlson says you're going to be here at least another two weeks."

He attempted to nod, weakly, to show that he understood, then cocked an eyebrow at her.

She thought she understood what he wanted to know, so she answered him as best as she could.

"You were hit in your left leg, your belly, your chest, your left arm, and a few bullets bounced off your helmet. The medic in the field gave you a double shot of some kind of pain killer, that they think saved your life, because it slowed your metabolism and knocked you out, kept you still while they bandaged you up. You've been out since then, for the past three days. I don't know what they operated on you for, but you were in surgery for over four hours, and you've been sleeping ever since. Go back to sleep, sweetheart, you'll heal faster. Missy and I will be here when you wake up."

Missy bent over the bed, kissing him on the cheek. "Yeah, you've gotta get better... you owe me some shooting lessons!"

He tried to smile at her, but the drugs took over, and he slipped back into the warm folds of unconsciousness.

Doris sat at Mickey's bedside, holding his hand as he slept, keeping half an eye on the monitors. His heartbeat, she could tell, was a bit on the slow and weak side, but she knew that was partially due to the drugs they had given him an hour ago. Between the X-rays and the metal detector, they'd taken nearly twenty pieces of shrapnel out of his chest and abdomen; he was lucky to be alive. The surgeon, a family friend, had told her that two of those chunks of metal had narrowly missed his heart and one had punctured one of his lungs. He would be in this bed for at least another four weeks, and he'd carry the scar from his navel to just below his throat for the rest of his life. His sternum, which they'd had to separate in order to get to some of the shrapnel, would take nearly a year to heal completely. She had been warned that the doctor had ordered that he be kept asleep as much as possible to further the healing process.

On the bright side, he was showing a good amount of brain activity, in spite of the numerous drugs he was on. The doctor informed her that it meant there hadn't been any sort of brain damage, and he expected Mickey to make a full recovery.

Jim Archer, Junior, sat in the chair next to the bed of one of his platoon members, holding her hand lightly as he hoped like hell she would wake up... she'd been comatose for the better part of a week, now, and the doctor wasn't sure if she would wake up or not. He prayed that she would. Not exactly pretty, in fact a little mannish, if truth was to be told, she still deserved her chance at a real life... and she was the girlfriend of a friend of his, another member of his team; both of them had, at some point, been prisoners of the Chinese.

Sarah Lennard found the right room number and stopped, looking in the window. There sat Corporal Archer, holding her lover's unfeeling hand as she lay in her coma. He was obviously distraught; his head was bowed, but his lips were moving, and it took a moment for her to realize that he was actually Praying over Jen's sleeping form. Though she had little feeling for men in general, she suddenly felt an infusion of warmth for her superior, who she knew considered her a friend, if a stand-offish, rather aloof friend. He Was human, after all.

It was in that moment that she truly began to realize why he worked his platoon as hard as he did... it was because he wanted them to be survivors, and that he cared far more deeply for them, herself included, than he would ever let on. She looked on for several more moments before turning and slipping away... she didn't want to intrude on this very private moment.

Johnny Corcoran sat at his desk, going over the listings of the wounded, and the details of each case. It was a depressingly long list. The list of casualties was there, too, and while it wasn't quite as long as the list of wounded, it was still entirely too long. Out of nearly ten thousand combatants, they'd lost over four hundred, and had nearly a thousand wounded. He recognized far too many of those names... and he silently hoped like hell it had all been worth it.

Rick Jamison read over the details of the next casualty on his list. This was going to be a particularly tough one; Corporal Davison had left behind not only a wife, but four children, as well.

His nervousness must have shown; Father Marcus Rogan laid his hand on Rick's shoulder and murmured "Steady, old friend."

Jamison was glad for the support; he'd made far too many of these visits already. Telling a woman that her man wasn't going to be coming home was never easy. Telling a man's children that daddy was gone to Heaven was even worse.

Julie Davison looked out of the kitchen window to see Colonel Jamison and the town Minister coming up the walk, and barely had the time to breathe out the words "Dear God, no!" before they were knocking on the front door.

She silently thanked God that the kids were playing in the local schoolyard, and weren't home, as she moved to the door.

Jamison nodded to her as the door opened. "Julie, may we come in?"

"My... my husband is gone, isn't he?"

Jamison nodded as he and Father Rogan walked into the living room with her.

"He saved his squadmates, Julie. He threw himself in front of a machine gun nest and dropped a grenade on them as he fell. He was killed instantly."

She dissolved into tears as the Minister folded his arms around her, stroking her back and making shushing noises, trying to tell her that her husband had died defending life, that he was a hero, and that he had felt no pain. It was no consolation to her, however...

Jamison assured her that she and the children would be well taken care of. As a widow of this war, she would have full access to the grocery market and general stores, of course, and she and her children would continue to draw her husband's pension credits for the next twenty years.

It would not be the last visit he would make that day... and he had half a dozen of his officers making similar visits.

Billie Jean and Missy sat at the kitchen table that night, drinking tea and sharing companionable silence. Neither was particularly hungry; they'd had sandwiches that they hadn't really tasted at the hospital while sitting with Jeff. Missy had made a half-hearted attempt at doing some busy-work around the apartment when they'd gotten back, but had long since given it up as a lost cause. They had finally settled down, both having a good cry, holding each other as they wondered what would happen with their boyfriend.