Russian Winter: CATU Book 2 Ch. 11

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The mission must go on.
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Part 10 of the 17 part series

Updated 08/30/2017
Created 09/18/2010
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USS Cobalt Aircraft Carrier, 60 Miles off the coast of Japan

I am standing on the USS Cobalt Aircraft Carrier. Behind me you can see the many personnel working diligently as the fleet prepares for the journey toward South Africa. It will be joining other US fleets from various places.

This comes from the announcement this morning that the President issued. The coalition between Russia and China has posed to great threat on both South Africa and the rest of the world.

The President has called for help from America's allies. None of America's allies have responded to the President's call and NATO will convene later this morning to decide on a course of action. The question everybody has is if help does come will it be too late?

This is Sacha Jordan reporting live from the USS Cobalt, back to you in the studio."

——

Maykov rushes through the halls toward the Prime Minister's office. He was not one that a person kept waiting. She pushes and shoves people out of her way as she runs. Complaints and yells are expressed, but she ignores them and keeps running.

When she finally reaches the office, she bursts through the door. The secretary looks up and gives a scowl, but otherwise doesn't say a word. She knows who Maykov is and knew there isn't time for reprimand.

Maykov slows her pace as she reaches the inner door to the Prime Minister. She stops just short of it and straightens her uniform and smoothes back her hair. With a loud rap, she knocks on the door. A voice within bids her entry and slowly she walks in.

The form the Prime Minister took was of no shock for her. He stands with his back to the door, tall with elegant, long curving horns and equally impressive wings. Chernoff only takes on a human form when it is required of him to do so. He allows those who give their most trusted loyalty to see him as he truly is.

Maltaus is one of the ruling classes of demons, an Ifrit. Ifrits are thought as folklore in many cultures along with demons. Unlike lesser demons evolving into greater demons, Ifrits are more noble class and born as one.

"You summoned me master," Maykov states the fact.

You are slow with my summoning.

"I am truly sorry my lord, I beg your forgiveness."

Dispense with the pleasantries, I have raised you above that my most trusted servant. I have a task for you, one that you may find pleasure in if you desire.

"Ask master and I shall carry it out."

Agent Spencer Reeds is more resourceful than expected. He is stronger than most humans, but still insignificant next to the Council. You are to gain his trust and lead him along in his mission.

"What do we hope to gain from him?" Confusion wrinkles her face, "What do we hope to gain from him that we don't already have?"

Anger flares in Maltaus' eyes. He casts it away before using that anger hastily. Maykov is the only human that has shown such devotion to him and humans like her are so hard to find.

I have taken an interest in him. Suffering, hate, anger, all of which will lead him into despair. I will then turn him to our cause. He will take the opportunity and serve me as a valuable asset.

"What if he doesn't my lord?" she dares to ask.

If he doesn't, then he will suffer an unimaginable death, marked with pain and regret. When the Council rules the humans, a leader will need to take the Councils place.

"Will that be wise master?"

Only if I have the warriors I need to defeat my enemies in the Council. That is why my child I need him and that is why you will do anything to gain his trust.

"He already distrusts me, I can see that much. The raid on the Rasputin and attack on the bus will surely lead him to believe I had something to do with it. What can I do that will change any of that?"

Use your feminine charm and appeal to his desires.

A frown creases her face at the thoughts of things she'd have to do to accomplish the task. A new thought flashes across her mind and it brings a smile to her face. "I have a desire that needs to be met," she says coolly.

A smile forms on Maltaus as he transforms back into the form of Chernoff. He pushes a button on the intercom on his desk. "Have my appointments for the day cancelled." Chernoff walks over to her and he places his hands on her shoulders. He turns her to face him then leans forward and kisses her. He pushes his tongue into her mouth and intertwines it with hers.

She clings to him. And he lifts her up and sets her on the edge of his desk. Then he reaches his hand under her skirt. He brushes his fingertips over her silk-covered pussy, reveling in the dampness he feels.

He eases her jacket off her shoulders and unbuttons her shirt. He reaches for the front opening clasp of her bra. Her firm breasts fall out, the nipples hard and erect. He keeps one hand on her pussy and begins sucking her nipples. She moans and begins tugging at the waistband of his pants.

Soon, she has him down to his boxers and with a low growl he bites her nipple and rips off her panties then thrusts two fingers into her dripping pussy. He withdraws his fingers and licks the juices off his fingers.

Maykov gets off the desk and pulls off his boxers down to his ankles. She takes his hard, pulsating cock in her hand and then she takes it deeply into her mouth. Chernoff groans deep in his throat, grabbing her by the hair and pushes her face into his groin. After several minutes she stands up and pulls her skirt up to her waist. She spreads her legs and smiles at him. "Come on," she coos.

He steps between her legs and thrusts his cock into her waiting pussy. Maykov moans aloud then leans back against the desk as he begins pumping his hips into hers. He puts his hands on her hips and grinds them into his.

He pumps his cock into her harder and faster. She is meeting him thrust for thrust. Maykov comes and comes again, having multiple orgasms.

Pumping his hips into hers like a madman, he blows stream after stream into Maykov's tight pussy just as she comes again. Then he collapses against her, both of them sweating, on the desk.

——

What's this?" Doug Wiltkins asks as Field Specialist Whitmire drops a report onto his desk.

"It's a report sir. Last night a truck with a Floyd's Movers past through a checkpoint in Bliss, Idaho."

"And this is odd, why?" he asks, already feeling the hairs on his neck stand up. He has a feeling he knows the answer and fears it is true.

"This truck was on a list to be let through without a search. A soldier thought it was odd at the time and let it through because of orders. Later told his superior officer about it, but the man's superior had no knowledge about. Similarly another incident like that happened, this time in Rapid City, South Dakota. Only this was reported by a concerned citizen."

"Have there been any attacks in either city?" he asks shifting uncomfortably in his chair.

"I checked and neither city has reported anything," Whitmire replies.

"Very good. Get things packed up here."

"Where are we going to head to sir?"

"We're closer to Bliss, so we'll go there," Doug replies.

Hesitant to get moving, Whitmire asks, "What about the other city, are we going to leave them defenseless?"

Doug is taken aback by the Specialist's question and slightly angered. "That's a question I don't want to hear again. We're not going to leave anyone defenseless if we can help it. Notify both cities and warn them of the immediate threat. I'll try to see if Director Cornelius can get another team sent to aid us."

"Sorry sir. I'll get right on it."

Whitmire turns and leaves Doug to ponder on the Specialists doubts. Had these terrorists caused so much havoc that America's own people began to lose faith in each other? Doug wasn't about to let the faith in his men corrode. As God was his witness, he was going to end this one way or another.

——

Spencer makes it to the outskirts of Novosibirsk an hour before dawn. He finds a small outcropping with a good view of the base and rests there until nightfall. After a few hours of rest, he spends his time watching the patrol patterns of the guards. The pattern held for each shift and he doubted it would change for the next one.

The fence ran along the perimeter of the base with a guard tower every hundred feet or so. The towers only used the spot lights when a noise was heard and couldn't immediately be identified.

Spencer runs toward the fence unhindered. His breathing is still causing a bit of trouble for him. Upon inspection, when the swelling reduced, he found he had three broken ribs and possibly two cracked. Now he hoped the fence wasn't electrified or this would be the shortest break in attempt ever. He planned to crawl through a drainage ditch. The fence that blocked the flow area was damaged by large branches that flowed into it.

He slowly reaches out for the fence and hesitates before committing himself to grabbing it.

Don't chicken out now Spence, just do it.

He grabs hold and nothing happens. "I guess they don't think anyone is willing to break in," he mutters to himself.

After clearing the refuse from the opening, he now has his entrance. Crawling through isn't an easy task, having to stretch his upper body to fit. He nearly cries out in pain, but instead he bites down on his tongue. When he makes it through, he forces himself against better judgment to lay there and rest.

A minute later he nearly blows it. He rolls over the pushes himself up when a guard strolls by. Three more feet and the guard would have been right on him. The guard continues walking away leaving Spencer unnoticed. Once the soldier is out of sight, Spencer picks himself up and runs toward the nearest building.

The base is a collection of mostly small buildings, a few warehouse structures, as well as a hanger and airfield. Not knowing where he needs to look, he decides to ask. He looks at his watch. It would be twelve minutes before the next guard walked by his way.

He waits those few minutes and as he expected a guard walks by. Spencer reaches out to grab him in a choke hold. "I'm looking for some information, if you value your life, you'll give it to me," he whispers into the guard's ear.

"I'll tell you anything I know," the guard says.

Thank God he speaks English.

"Like I said I need information. Where would I find it?"

"In-In the Records and Archives Building," the man stammers.

Squeezing tighter, he says, "And how will I know what building it is?"

"It's on the east side of the base, building 14375, only one with a blue door."

"Thanks," he says before squeezing tighter until the guard goes limp.

Spencer had no desire to kill the man; after all he was just following orders. When the man did wake up, he'd have a good sized headache.

It takes Spencer two hours to traverse to the other side of the base and another thirty minutes to find the building with the blue door. He stakes out the area around the building. When there isn't any activity going in or out and no guards patrolling nearby, Spencer heads for the door. The door, not surprisingly, is locked. Pulling out his knife, Spencer shoves it into the door jam and brake the locking mechanism.

He looks around; making sure no one has heard the break and clanging sound that was made. Satisfied he is still in the clear, he slowly pushes the door open. It is dark, but not nearly pitch black, due to the light flooding in through the windows.

He begins to step in when feelings of evil ride in on him. He pauses to listen for any abnormal noises or movement. After two minutes of inactivity, he makes his way into the building. He expects an attack, but when none comes, he attributes the feeling as a residue of evil left behind. His suspicions are confirmed when he sees a body lying face down in a puddle of blood. He creeps over to the body and feels for a pulse. The body is lifeless.

So much for my contact.

He stays knelt by the body, examining the inflicted wounds. A taloned hand grabs around his neck lifting him off the ground.

"What the he—" he manages to sputter before being tossed through the wall.

Spencer lands on his back, his head hitting the ground with a thud. Darkness clouds his vision for a moment. When he is able to focus again, a creature stands before him. A hideous creature, like all that are summoned from the bowels of Hades, ugly. The creature stands on four legs, with a sleek body and two massive arms.

Spencer picks himself up and draws out the knife. The creature gives him a look of curiosity and growls a chuckle. Alarms begin to blare and the sound of soldiers commencing on them echoed throughout the base.

Spencer looks at the creature. "Let's get this over with; I don't have time to play with those guys."

Howling, the creature charges him. He spins the knife in his hand and rolls between the creatures legs, slashing the underside of its body. Black blood from it spills over the ground.

Spencer rolls up into a fighting stance. The creature turns and lets out a howl of anger and pain. The first of the soldiers appear, guns raised but they are not sure what to think of the situation. The creature rears up on its hind legs and releases a loud roar then comes down with a crashing force. The ground shakes and a shockwave sends Spencer and the soldiers to the ground.

Not giving Spencer any time to react, the creature charges for him again. Spencer is ready for another attack though. He springs up and rushes a soldier that is still recovering from the shockwave. The soldier flies back dropping his rifle into Spencer's waiting hands.

Spencer spins to face the creature as he is lifted into the air. The creature's mouth gaps opened showing a row of large teeth. "Damn, your breath is kicking!" Spencer yells as he opens fire on the creature.

The creature drops him and howls with rage. Spencer lands, pain shoots through his leg from the sudden impact. Ignoring the possibility that his leg is now broken, he continues to pour bullets into the creature until the gun clicks empty.

The creature rears up one last time before falling into a heap of blood and gore. With one last grunt, the creature turns into ash to be carried off with the wind.

The soldiers are quick to recover and point their rifles at Spencer. "Podnimite vashi ruki na vershinu vashei golovy, peny," says one of the soldiers, a captain. "Raise your hands on top of your head, scum."

Spencer doesn't know what the soldier said, but could assume what he meant. He drops his rifle and kicks it over to the man.

"Na vashikh kolenyakh," says the captain. "On your knees."

This time Spencer doesn't have a clue what the man wants. When he doesn't do as the soldier asks, he is hit in both the knees and back by two other soldiers, until he finally falls to his knees. A couple of those blows hit his ribs where they were broken. Spencer grounds his teeth, waiting through the pain, not wanting to give the soldiers any knowledge of his injury.

"Peregernite ego," the captain says pointing to the two men that forced Spencer down. "Turn him around."

Once Spencer is turned around, the captain walks up to him. He pulls out a pistol and places it to the back of Spencer's skull. "Kakie-nibud poslednie pozhelaniya? Net?" he asks. "Any last wishes? No?"

The soldiers all around laugh.

"Ubeite amerikanskuyu svinyu!" One of the soldiers shouts. "Kill the American pig!"

"Do svidaniya," the captain says. "Goodbye."

A shot rings out in the night air. Silence falls and Spencer is surprised to see he is still alive. He looks back over his shoulder to see the captain lying on the ground, smoke rising from his forehead.

"Ubeite amerikantsa!" another of the soldiers yells. "Kill the American!"

Another shot is fired and that soldier drops where he stood. Spencer quickly grabs the captain's pistol and begins shooting the soldiers. Thirty seconds later the group is lying on the ground dead. Alarms begin to blare again as more soldiers begin to pile out of the barracks.

A figure emerges from between two buildings ahead of Spencer. He immediately raises his gun to shoot when he hears a familiar voice. "Wait!" Maykov yells.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Spencer asks.

"Saving your ass," she says with a smile. "When my contact didn't check in, I figured something happened to both of you."

"I found him dead and I'm guessing you had something to do with it," Spencer says. He continues to keep his gun aimed at Maykov.

"If I wanted either of you dead, I sure as hell wouldn't have just saved your life," she nearly yells.

Spencer doesn't have a response to that; she did have a point after all. He lowers his gun and his strength finally leaves him. Maykov rushes over to help him. Hoisting him onto her shoulder, she says, "Let's go before more of them show up."

They retreat back the same way Maykov entered. She has a jeep waiting. They get in it and drive off just as the sun begins to rise over the horizon.

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