Tamsin Beech Ch. 10: Soteria

The Coalition president, Vladimir Zakhvatchikov excused himself to go to the bathroom, but found it difficult to concentrate on emptying his bladder at the thought of what was to come. Unexpectedly, Ludmila Mudak had landed back aboard the aircraft carrier Lenin with Volk and it seemed she had every intention of rekindling the passion they'd once shared.

He popped a couple of blue rounded diamond shaped pills in his mouth and washed them down with a lead crystal whisky tumbler of water, before returning to the bedroom, his ageing cock already at half mast.

Yeonmi was sitting up on the enormous bed between Ludmila's open legs with a beaming smile, wearing only red satin panties and a matching bra, while Ludmila had stripped down to a black thong and her uniform blouse.

"Hey ladies," Vladimir called, shrugging off his imperial purple robe, "room for another one? Or ... shall I bring some toys and just watch?"

"Certainly mister president," Ludmila grinned, "we didn't want to start without you," she pulled Yeonmi back down onto her for another kiss.

He'd missed having Major Ludmila Mudak around as his personal assistant. Not so much for the efficiency of her work but because her skill at sucking his cock was, in his opinion, unrivalled. The pretty young North Korean girl - Yeonmi, had caught his eye during the negotiations aboard the Baekdusan soon after Kim Napp Gylan's murder. With her glossy black hair and elfin features, she was more than eager to please her new commander in chief and the fact that she spoke not a word of Russian or English soon became totally irrelevant.

As Vladimir climbed onto the end of the bed, the girls switched position, with Yeonmi now pressed underneath Ludmila. Just as he would have expected. Ludmila had always been the dominant one.

He wondered if she might slip a butt plug into the North Korean's ass. It always had the effect of making her cunt that tiny bit tighter, "How's it going? Are you two getting acquainted?" Vladimir asked, scooching up beside them.

"We are. But to be honest your new friend doesn't say much," Ludmila grinned, sitting up to kiss him, before one arm snaked around his head to pull him in closer.

Vladimir breathed in her perfume as he avidly sucked on her lips, and his tongue met with hers. His liver-spotted hands sweeping impatiently over the smooth skin of her spine, her ass, and her thighs. Then he was reaching over to kiss Yeonmi, enjoying the subtly different texture of the younger woman's lips.

Smiling, Yeonmi slipped her panties down her thighs, and then as Vladimir leaned back over to kiss Ludmila, the petite North Korean started sliding the Russian's thong off.

"She's definitely eager. I'll give her that," Ludmila Mudak giggled quietly.

Vladimir grinned, then began to kiss his way around the smooth, pale skin of Yeonmi's exquisite body as the two girls knelt, their hands sprawling all over each other as they locked lips. He honestly felt like just sitting back and admiring them, watching them pleasure each other.

He'd been president for so long. In a position to snare any woman he chose and demand they perform any degrading acts that came to mind. He'd held so many orgies in this very room that he'd become blasé about the whole idea of sex. It was only a few individuals like Ludmila Mudak and his current favourite Yeonmi that could even make him hard any more. But it hadn't always been like that. He remembered the happy years before Thanatos had destroyed the world that everyone knew. When he'd been a junior diplomat in Bristol and happily married to the love of his life - Sorrel.

But she was long dead. Or at least he'd always assumed she was. In 2021, he'd returned to Moscow, the missile had been launched at Thanatos ... and the world had turned to shit. Billions had died, cities wiped out and the planet's weather patterns irrevocably changed forever.

Vodka, zabveniye and filthy, depraved sex were all that suppressed the memory of just how responsible he'd been for it all.

Yeonmi pushed Ludmila's blouse off her shoulders, leaving the three not wearing a stitch between them, and both women resumed their kissing. Vladimir noticed just how stiff their nipples were as they gently brushed bodies against one other. Yeonmi's hands holding Ludmila's face as they kissed, Ludmila's hands dropping to the North Korean girl's hips.

"You're so pretty," Ludmila told her breathlessly.

Yeonmi shrugged, "Joesong haeyo. Ihaega an dwaeyo."

For a moment Vladimir was just happy to be a spectator, observing the two of them exploring each others' curves, appreciating the sensual nature of their touching, adoring the sounds of their breathing and taking real satisfaction in the delight on their faces. Ludmila had to be around thirty and experienced, all voluptuous womanly curves. While the smaller girl had to be no older than eighteen, with an air of innocence about her he liked.

He was old. And tired. Tired of responsibility and having to satisfy the needs and demands of their colonies' ruling councils, tired of appeasing the more outspoken North Koreans who'd never been happy with his assuming control. Tired of the assassination attempts and hearing about the escapades of his own granddaughter Tamsin, daughter Merida, and whatever else was left of the UK's resistance movement.

It was time to hand over the reins to someone new. Someone ruthless who'd only have the Coalition's best interests at heart. Someone like Volk ...

CHAPTER TEN: SOTERIA

Northumberland, autumn 2063 ...

PART ONE: THE BATTLE OF LINDISFARNE

"Everyone's in position," McTavish whispered.

Tamsin and her Reekie scout ducked down as another Coalition searchlight swept across the mudflats of Beal Sands towards them. Just to their right the narrow causeway stretched out into the oily, grey water. Beyond, lay the dunes and scrubland of the tidal island of Lindisfarne - for four years her prison, and now their prime objective in their war against the invaders.

The moon emerged from behind a dense blanket of cloud providing pale illumination. Tamsin's breath plumed in front of her in the predawn chill as they watched the tide slowly receding less than a quarter of a mile from their position. It would leave the island accessible once again from the mainland, but the sucking mud in the bay soft underfoot. Treacherous for any unfamiliar with the safe routes across Holy Island Sands. Volk's troops stationed there would be complacent too, thinking they'd survived another night without attack. Vastly outgunned, the Reekies nevertheless needed every possible advantage.

Lights could be seen clearly over on the island a few miles distant. Vehicles patrolling along the main road, St Cuthbert's Way. And lanterns moving about not only in the village, but also in the immediate vicinity of the squat, blocky castle on its isolated rocky outcrop. Just as they'd expected. Once Zakhvatchikov had discovered the importance of the Soteria personnel list they'd stolen, Volk's people had been given urgent reinforcements. One reason why the holding facility at Fort George had been abandoned she assumed.

"All his eggs in one basket," she murmured.

"What was thet?" Fraser, the Reekie leader growled beside her.

Tamsin shook her head, "Nothing."

It had been a tortuously slow journey from Edinburgh. Not so much due to the distance involved, but having to avoid detection by Coalition lookouts along the way. The routes leading to the invaders' colony of Novaya Moskva - New Moscow, were heavily guarded - and if even one had raised the alarm as the Reekies crept past along bridleways and back roads, all their planning would have been for naught. Her injured knee hadn't helped.

The Kerrera II sat anchored offshore. Somewhere out in the dark North Sea beyond the island, her parents, Jessamy Beech and Hamnavoe waited, well away from the prying eyes of the Coalition fleet. Waiting for her signal that it was safe to come ashore and complete the task they'd planned for.

The aircraft carriers Baekdusan and Lenin - Zakhvatchikov's flagship, the destroyers Admiral Levchenko and Smetlivy, the guided missile cruisers Tbilisi and Baku. And so many others. If everything went according to plan they would all be vapourised before the day was out and the Coalition's occupation would be at an end. It was a huge tactical error on Zakhvatchikov's part that he'd assumed no-one left alive could access the Soteria bunkers.

Hunkered down amongst the maram grass and gorse bushes wearing a stolen Coalition uniform, Tamsin shifted the weight on her knee, alarmed at how much the joint had swollen since leaving Edinburgh, "Thank you for doing this Fraser. I can't lie. Many of your people are going to die today."

The Reekie chieftain glared at her, clan markings contorting his expression, "Chan eil trioblaid ann. We want revenge as much ez you."

She couldn't understand the Gaelic, but nodded, and not knowing what else to say offered the Reekie her hand, "Good luck."

"Gum bi a 'bhan-dia còmhla riut," Fraser gripped her slim fingers briefly in his massive paw, then scuttled off through the undergrowth to be with his clan. If only Leonid Denisovich could've been at her side, she thought. Tamsin recalled her last conversation with him before she, McTavish and their ragtag army had left Edinburgh.

. . .

"You didn't come back last night," said Leonid. Was it her imagination or was there a hint of accusing suspicion in his voice? After what she'd experienced beside the Reekies' geothermal pool the night before, Tamsin felt that surely guilt must be written all over her face as plain as day.

"I ... was really tired," she explained, lacing her boots to avoid looking at him. The excuse sounded feeble to her own ears. Around them in Edinburgh Castle's Great Hall, the Reekies went about their everyday business. Cooking, cleaning weapons, mending clothes. She wondered just how many of them had fucked her the night before, "the Reekies, uh ... bathed me and I must have fallen asleep."

"Same here," he shrugged, "they washed off McTavish's markings and just painted on these."

Leonid's face was bisected with a straight line running from forehead down to his neck - bare skin on one side, solid blue with woad on the other. Much like her own.

Surely the Russian could smell them on her? The lingering scent of dried Reekie semen on her body, in her hair, dribbling from every orifice. But apparently not. Leonid seemed satisfied with her explanation and leaned forward to kiss her, "I like your new markings. You look like your Aunt Jessamy. Fierce."

"But they've done the same to you."

Leonid leaned back on his bed roll, clutching at his side, "It marks us as warriors apparently. Not that it matters to me. I'm in no fit state to come with you anyway."

Tamsin smiled, "You just rest up. I've got a couple of hundred Reekies to cover my back now," she delved through one of their rucksacks for her MP-443 Grach handguns. With one arm not a hundred percent she still lacked the strength to pull back a bowstring, "once we take the island I can signal my parents on the Kerrera II. We'll be back here in no time."

Leonid silently handed her the Royal Marines Commando knife he'd borrowed and regarded her thoughtfully, his piercing blue eyes serious, "Be safe. Don't take unnecessary risks. If Volk realises what he's sitting on top of he'll stop at nothing to keep you out of Lindisfarne Castle. I ... love you Tamsin Beech. But I also remember what you said in Kirkwall. Wouldn't you rather die on your feet, than live on your knees?"

"I'm not planning on dying at all just yet. On my feet or anywhere else. And ... I love you too," she kissed him, not knowing whether they'd see each other again, "now, stay put ... and don't do anything I wouldn't do," Tamsin winked, then realised the irony of her words as she stood and walked towards the door.

. . .

Two flares and an antique Very pistol poked out of Tamsin's threadbare goretex jacket. Red - to signal Fraser's Reekies to attack, and green - to signal the Kerrera II. She hoped and prayed she'd get a chance to use them both.

"Ready?" she asked McTavish over the strengthening wind, as they crept along with a hundred other Reekie warriors, down towards the shoreline to the north of the causeway.

He nodded. When had he ever not been ready, she wondered, glancing apprehensively at the others. She'd seen the mounted skulls in Edinburgh Castle. She'd seen the stacked human vertebrae on Fraser's staff. Tamsin knew only too well what Reekies did to their enemies, and couldn't help but feel a tiny bit sorry for Volk's conscripts.

The Vikings had once raided Lindisfarne. Plundering the monastery in 793 for gold and murdering the monks there. It had been a soft target. How would a couple of hundred similarly equipped barbarians fare against twenty first century automatic weapons, Tamsin wondered. Slotting the red flare into the Very pistol's wide muzzle she aimed away from their position so as not to give themselves away.

POOM!

The incandescent red flare shot hundreds of feet up into the early morning sky, like a tiny bright sun leaving a faint smoke trail in its wake - just as a low rumbling sound from their right drew Tamsin's attention. Like engine noise from a convoy of heavy trucks, but accompanied by a squealing, grating sound that set her teeth on edge, "What ... the fuck is that?" she wondered uneasily.

Around them, other curious Reekies paused and poked their heads up out of the undergrowth. Men, women. All decorated with fresh woad markings and necklaces of human bone to strike fear into the hearts of Volk's troops. Wielding axes, swords, crude bows and clubs studded with nails and shards of volcanic glass. All craning their necks to identify the source of the new sound.

Then Tamsin spotted them ...

Three Russian T-14 Armata battle tanks hove into view and trundled down the narrow lane from Beal village towards the near end of the causeway. Each retrofitted with extra armour plate - no doubt from the Scunthorpe steel works where her father had once been a foreman. In 2021 when Thanatos had struck they had been state of the art war machines. Now, even with many of their high tech systems failing - they still were.

"Shit," Tamsin cursed, "this complicates things."

The forty year old tanks lurched to a halt arranged in a rough triangle, so that their 125mm main guns and turret mounted Kord machine guns could cover every approach to Lindisfarne's one access road - the causeway.

But it was too late to change their minds now. She'd already given the signal.

"How so?" asked McTavish. Incongruously given the situation, Tamsin realised that he'd made no mention to her of the ceremony at the geothermal pool and it made her wonder if the Reekies were really that casual about sex.

"Can't you see?" she hissed, "Volk's got fucking tanks! Fraser's people'll be massacred."

As she spoke, Tamsin couldn't help but notice a slight brightening of the sky way out to sea. It would be dawn soon.

"Fraser kens wha' needs to be done," McTavish ran a thumb along the razor sharp blade of his axe as if eager to get to work, "he's well aware that his people are a diversion ... nothin' more."

Cannon fodder, thought Tamsin. After a moment, she slowly nodded ...

. . .

Onboard the aircraft carrier Lenin, Ludmila Mudak slithered up the bed, so that she could crawl between Yeonmi's open thighs. Vladimir Zakhvatchikov was loving seeing them together, and wondered for just how much longer he'd be fit enough to indulge his lust like this.

Ludmila certainly seemed to be enjoying herself, judging by all the smiles directed at Yeonmi as she took her time exploring the salty softness of the North Korean girl's skin with her lips, and experimenting with her tongue and mouth on her breasts and nipples.

Vladimir shuffled up to focus his attention around the back of the Russian woman's thighs, to her behind and delectable pussy that was currently going untended. As his ex PA ventured a little further down towards Yeonmi's belly, he found that she was most certainly turned on by all of it. Her vulva was as wet as he'd ever seen it.

Ludmila looked over her shoulder at him with a huge grin, "Are you feeling left out sir?" she said quietly, in apparent concern.

"Not at all Major Mudak," he answered, but wasn't at all displeased when Yeonmi ducked down to take his cock in her mouth, using her hands to coax him back up to full hardness. To be honest he wouldn't have minded just watching them pleasure one another with a strap on.

The two women laughed, and moved to swing their legs over him in one synchronized movement. Vladimir Zakhvatchikov had no choice but to lie on his back and see what they had planned. He gasped, heart pounding in his chest with Yeonmi straddling his lap, Ludmila straddling his face.

. . .

A single black arrow hit a junior Coalition officer in the throat.

As he fell, the others glanced around horrified trying to pinpoint its source. Then all at once, soldiers crumpled to the cracked tarmac of the road, shrieking with pain or gurgling their dying breaths as a deadly rain of more arrows and crossbow bolts skewered them, shot from the ruins of old farm buildings near the causeway. Fraser's Reekies erupted from their hiding places and charged, screaming like banshees.

Instantly the armoured turrets of the T-14s swung around and opened up with their machine guns.

The leading blue painted Reekies were literally cut to pieces as a withering storm of high calibre bullets blasted through their ranks. But the outnumbered survivors simply carried on going, ploughing fearlessly into the bewildered Coalition infantry where the tanks couldn't hit them for fear of killing their own men. Engagement at close range with axes, clubs and teeth far more effective than Kalashnikovs.

. . .

As Ludmila Mudak's dripping labia eased into place over his mouth, Vladimir Zakhvatchikov felt Yeonmi manoeuvre his cock and gently lower herself. And suddenly his manhood was enveloped by a wet, silken heat as she took him deep inside her. Could it possibly get any better than this?

The Russian ground herself into his face while the beautiful North Korean girl rocked on his hard shaft, both seeming to mirror the sensual motion of their hips at either end of his body. He could hear them giggling again, then kissing, and though he couldn't see, guessed that they were exploring each other once more.

"Nae jeojkkogjileul ppal-a ..." he heard Yeonmi murmur.

Beneath them, Vladimir tried his best to hold on, his erection squeezed by Yeonmi's incredible tightness, while most of his senses were occupied by Ludmila's intoxicating taste, texture and smell.

It was the North Korean, who eventually broke off, mercifully giving Vladimir a much needed break to prevent him from cumming too soon. Beyond seventy five, recovery times tended to be in hours, not minutes. His cock slipped from her and slapped wetly against his belly. It was just as well. His heart was hammering, his skin greasy with sweat and having Ludmila Mudak's thighs clamped around his head was making it difficult to catch a breath.

"Are you alright sir?" she called softly down to him.

He clutched Ludmila's ass and nudged her sideways, indicating she should get off. Yeonmi watched them both, stepping backwards off the bed with a hand busy between her thighs and ... a cold look in her eyes.

Gone was the shy teenaged recruit who'd been so eager to please her new commander in chief by offering her body. The North Korean's expression had taken on a hard edge.

"Y-yeonmi?" Vladimir stammered, "what is it?"

Ludmila scrambled away as Yeonmi reached down to the pile of her discarded clothes and drew a thin, but lethal looking dagger, "Neon nae daetonglyeong-i aniya."