Quaranteam: Phil's Tale Ch. 10

"That was part of it. The other part is that early data makes it look very likely that children of Quaranteam dosed parents will have strong to very strong resistance to DuoHalo, and the majority of the variants we've seen so far. We had a couple of pregnant mothers in our first handful of Quaranteam rounds, and one of them just gave birth to a healthy boy named David, and I gotta tell you, David does not give a fuck about DuoHalo. We've run his bloodwork against basically every variant that's come through these doors, and David's blood just murders it within seconds. Maybe we'll be able to do something with the antibodies he's generating, but I wouldn't hold your breath for us to be doing anything with it any time soon. Still, I like the sign that we're going to not have to worry about this with any kids we have moving forward. So assuming we make it through the next twenty years, the problem'll just go away. And the massive population drop means we're even doing less polluting and there's a better chance the planet's going to survive all those twenty years."

"Well look at who just became a giant fucking ray of sunshine and optimism," Phil chuckled. "Let's just put out an announcement now. 'Hey! People of the world! Assuming you don't die, it'll get better! Eventually! We're pretty sure!' That'll go over very well..."

"Better than 'News Flash: Everyone Going To Die Soon' would, I think," Bill shrugged. He glanced over and gestured at Phil's Apple watch. "Looks like the missus is calling you."

Phil glanced down and sure enough, Linda's face had appeared on it, as well as text indicating she was calling. He'd left his phone on silent/no vibrate so it was lucky that Bill had spotted it on his wrist. He pulled his phone out, tapped to turn it on and held it to his ear. "Hey Linda, what's up?"

"We need you down in your office, like, now babe," she said to him. There was some kind of clatter going on behind her. "You know that lady from Spanish Intelligence you were supposed to be getting tomorrow? Well, she's here now and she's not gonna wait. So maybe you can come down here and take care of her now, and we can go to our debriefing afterwards? But we really need you here now if you take my meaning."

"I'm already walking down that way now, Lin. See you in a minute."

Linda's tone on the phone hadn't sounded panicked but more amused by the whole thing, though her word choice had definitely stressed that he not dawdle. So he made his way down the hallway, up the stairs, around the corner and back into his nestled office at the end of the hallway, opening the door to see Linda standing over a woman tied to a chair, Violet off to one side looking embarrassed. After a second glance, Phil realized it was Paloma Gallagos, the woman from the Spanish National Intelligence Centre, the former spy who'd been traded away to their country in order for her family to get priority access to the Quaranteam serum.

Paloma was in her mid thirties, with golden skin and jet black hair, a long and angular face that was still nonetheless very attractive. The woman was covered in sweat, however, and her facial expression was that of exhaustion, her eyes lidded closed, her head lolling around a bit, as if in a state of delirium. She was dressed in a black tank top and black cargo pants, although she didn't have shoes or socks on.

"Linda dear," Phil said, "why is our soon to be partner tied up?"

"In the time between calling you and you getting here, I think I've figured it out," Linda told him while making sure Paloma's wrists were bound to the chair. "Just after we left, Paloma came to get a tour of the place and to meet any of your partners who were still around. In this case, Violet. She did that European kiss on both cheeks thing, and I think Violet had some of your spunk dried up on her cheek, so it started up Paloma into the pre-imprinting."

"Okay," Phil said cautiously. "That explains why she looks exhausted, but again, why is she tied up?"

"I think it's easier if I show him instead of telling him, Paloma," Linda said, her voice almost kind and motherly, a side of her Phil didn't recall seeing. "Just the once. Then we'll get you imprinted nice and quick, okay?"

The Spanish woman whimpered then nodded.

"If I told you this, you wouldn't believe it, so watch closely, babe," Linda said to him. She reached down, pushing Paloma's thighs wide, and then very gingerly smoothed her fingertips against the woman's crotch through the cargo pants, and in immediate response, she seized up, letting a throaty moan escape from her mouth as it looked like she was in full bloom orgasm at even the lightest touch. Linda pulled her hand back, and the woman gasped and panted for breath, trying to twist and wriggle her hips, as if she could find no safe way to keep the feelings from reverberating throughout her. "It's like that at the littlest touch or caress. Nipples too. Woman's a hair's breadth away from an orgasm at all times, and she's fucking exhausted. She kept getting herself off and wouldn't stop, which is why we tied her wrists up. For her own good. So we need to get her imprinting, but I want you to make sure it's inside of her pussy, so she doesn't lose a drop of your spunk."

Linda had already reached down and was stroking his cock through his pants, as he looked from Paloma back to his partner. "Isn't that just going to be rough on her?" Phil asked her.

"She can't wait, and we're just gonna have to get you through it," Linda said, unbuttoning his jeans, pushing them down so that she could fish out his dick, giving long and deliberate strokes to it. "But you're barely gonna fuck her. I'm gonna get you most of the way there, and when you're starting to get close, you can push inside of her to get both of you over the last of it."

"Got it all planned out, do you?" Phil said, although he had to admit, Linda knew exactly how and where to touch him, and his prick was already rock hard within her calloused fingertips' grasp. "Think I'm just gonna pop as soon as you put me in her?"

"Shit, babe," Linda laughed. "If I were you, I would... she's gotta have the tightest cunt I've ever seen in all my life, and I've seen my fair share. Vi, get her pants off."

Violet nodded, reaching down to pull Paloma's pants along with the woman's cotton panties that were more sexual fluid than not at this point, the very sensation of the fabric brushing against Paloma's cunt setting her off on another orgasm again, the woman stamping one of her feet against floor. "Dios mio, I never thought I would say this, but I am fucking tired of cumming," Paloma groaned.

"Just another minute or two," Linda said to her before looking back at Phil. "Even without the hair trigger, she's pretty fucking hot, isn't she?"

"She's... she's kinda familiar looking, actually," Phil said.

"What? No. There's no fucking way you'd have ever met her. But shit, I dunno, maybe. You can ask her once she's locked in on our Team," Linda said with a laugh. "God, you're already so fucking slick wth precum? This some secret turn on I didn't know about?"

"It was... hell, it was astonishing how hard that woman came..."

"You're about to put all that to shame," Linda purred, starting to lead him over towards Paloma. "Paloma dear, if you want him to do it, you're gonna need to provide vocal confirmation."

"Dammit, man, does a girl have to come right out and say it when she wants you to fuck her? Get that pinga inside your puta and fucking do it already!" she hissed at him, her eyes closed, her knuckles white, she was gripping onto his chair's arms so tightly.

Phil moved to lift her legs, placing one of his hands on each of Paloma's hips as Linda kept his cock aimed and lined up. Sure enough, as he started to push in, she had a very snug pussy, and once the first few inches were in, she started clamping and spasming around him. Phil did his best to resist it, getting a few long and deep thrusts in, but around the fifth or sixth hilt deep pump, she vicelocked around him like dead man's switch, and started milking him as his orgasm burst from him and inside of her, Paloma letting out an almost feral howl of pleasure, her arms strong enough to rip the ropes and pull her arms free before finally slumping back into the chair, all of her muscles going slack at the same moment in time, as she began to whisper "imprinting" over and over again.

They did their best to get her on the couch and covered up, but the woman was as limp as overcooked pasta, practically oozing over them as they did their best. Ten minutes later, however, Phil, Linda and Violet were finishing their shower as Phil heard his cell phone beeping. They quickly toweled off and got dressed, then headed down to the briefing room, where Colonel Layla Robbins was waiting with Major General Fielder.

"Shit just got weird, Captain," Layla said to Linda as they all moved into the room, sitting down. "We got an ID on your hit team, but fuck if I can figure out what to make of it."

They all got seated, as Linda offered a shrug. "Okay, Colonel. Who the hell are they?"

The wall projector sprung to life and an image captured from Phil's car of the man with the machine gun popped onto the wall. "This is Kerry Butler. The guy driving the car's name is Paul Isaacs. As far as we can tell, they've got no affiliation to the Russians, the Chinese or any other known force that's been trying to get their hands on the base Quaranteam serum."

"So if they're not Russian," Phil said. "Who the hell are they here on behalf?"

"As far as we can tell? They're Z Special Unit," Layla responded, as both Fielder and Linda nodded, while both Phil and Violet stared at them blankly.

"Fine," Phil finally said, "I'll bite. Who the hell are Z Special Unit?"

Linda scowled. "Phil, it's the fucking Australians."

He was certain he'd misheard.

"Whatnow?"

"Z Special Unit are a division of the Australian Special Operations Command."

It was a very long time before anyone spoke again, but Phil just couldn't help himself.

"Are we at war with Australia and nobody thought to tell me?"