"The Emissary"

[AnnieBloom]

(Post #100 above continued the scene from post 80, in case anyone wants to go back and look at it. )

The Sahara, Central Chad (including the missile incident):

The Emissary was showing M'Chel Starr the Geovik drilling site when the Secret Service Agent recalled some of the tragedies that the indigenous peoples of North, Central, and South America had suffered at the hands of primarily white Europeans.

"I understand and appreciate your concern, Agent Starr," Emelia said. She could have said more but why? M'Chel would likely think they were lies and manipulations now, just as they'd been hundreds of years ago.

M'Chel asked about Geovik's usages, implying that it was likely use for weapons. Geovik had many uses, one of which was in fact as a power source for weapons. Emelia wasn't going to confirm that, obviously. Instead, she said, "It is key to the mother ship's propulsion."

Just then, a helmeted guard hurried up to speak to Emelia in whispers. Emelia said to M'Chel, "Come with me. You will want to see this."

Inside the shuttle, uniformed/helmeted officers were standing around a two-meter-wide 3D holographic image of the Earth hovering over the control panel that was projecting it. And officer spread his hands before it, zooming in. The Sea of Japan and its surrounding countries appeared more prominently: Japan, Russia, and both Koreas, with China also in view up to the left.

During the ongoing conversation, M'Chel would likely realize that the dozens of symbols scattered about the image represented military units on land, sea, and in the air. Emelia asked, "Where is it?"

The senior officer pointed to a flashing icon. It was moving over the Artic Ocean on an arc that the display showed had an origin in North Korea and a destination of Washington DC. She asked, "How long until it reaches its target?"

"Twenty-three minutes," the officer answered.

Emelia turned back to M'Chel. "We discovered in the last few days that the Democratic People's Republic of Korea, what you call North Korea, intended to launch a long range intercontinental ballistic missile at the United States. We have been monitoring the situation. Communication intercepts revealed that President Kim Jong Un planned to blame the missile on the Matluk. He believed that the US would neither detect the missile in time nor destroy it."

Emelia asked the senior officer if the US's NORAD had detected the missile, to which the senior officer answered, "Yes, Mistress. They have also activated the SkyHunter anti-missile launchers in Central Canada and the US's Midwest region."

The officer hesitated, his head conspicuously turning M'Chel's direction for a moment. "It is doubtful that they will intercept the missile. What is your command, Mistress?"

"Dispatch an Interceptor from the mother ship should the SkyHunter fail," Emelia said calmly. To another Matluk, she said, "Connect me with President Paulson." To M'Chel, Emelia explained, "We arranged what you would call a hotline with your President in anticipation of such events."

The 3D hologram of Earth was replaced by a 2D image of POTUS. Angela was in the Situation Room, with a bounty of mostly uniformed men and women behind her. The two women exchanged quick greetings, then discussed the incoming missile, the SkyHunter weapon (which was no longer classified or unknown to the public), and the Matluk backup plan. They agreed that the SkyHunter would be deployed before the Matluk took action. Angela stressed, "That's assuming that your action won't be too late, Emissary."

"Have no fear, Madam President," Emelia said.

The next few minutes were tense. The Canada-based anti-missile missiles failed to destroy the ICBM, followed by a launch failure of the Vermont-based units. Inside the Matluk shuttle, an officer had been counting down, the time to impact: eight minutes ... seven minutes ... six minutes..."

Another Matluk then began counting down at a much faster pace: Ten, nine, eight, seven ... deployment of virtual net underway ... three, two, one ... contact ... missile destroyed, Mistress."

There was an audible cheer in the Situation Room as they, too, saw the missile destroyed. Angela turned back to view Emelia on the large flat screen on the wall. "We owe you one, Emissary."

"I will remember that, Madam President," Emelia said with a smile and a wink. She meant it, of course, as she'd already begun collecting IOUs from around the world. Emelia said to Angela, "My crew and I will exit the shuttle and give you and Agent Starr a moment to speak. I'm sure that the two of you have a lot to talk about."

Emelia gestured the Matluk crew out. Before she herself left, she said, "Take your time, and feel free to be as open as you wish. We are not monitoring or recording. You probably do not believe that, but it is true."

She exited to join the other Matluk as they watched the continuing drilling of the Geovik extraction well.

 

[AnnieBloom]

(Continues post 98. Note to anyone following our story: Gregory Charles, the astronaut, was not on the ISS with Sally Keen. He was on the ISS at an earlier date. We didn't make that clear in earlier posts.)

Denver, Colorado:

Liam looked closer at a man with no facial injuries. There was something familiar about him. It took a moment. When it dawned of him, Liam whispered, "What the fuck?" He looked to Annabelle. "This is that astronaut. What was his name ... Charles ... Gregory Charles. He was a Brit. Some sort of doctor."

He looked closer at each of the dead men. There was no doubt about it. These men were Charles. Copies of Charles anyway. He looked to Annabelle again, asking simply, "Clones?"

"Yes, Mister Nellis, they are clones," Annabelle confirmed, adding, "In a sense. I won't go into the details of how it's done. Imagine a human shaped blob of clay that simply needs the proper molding and a personality. The hardest part was getting the DNA."

She explained that eight years ago, on an earlier ISS expedition, Gregory Charles and his fellow astronauts were peacefully and painlessly incapacitated and their station deprived of communications for a period of 44 hours. This was performed by the crew of a cloaked Matluk ship that had been in orbit of Earth for over six years, planning for that very mission. They disabled the ISS, boarded it, took what they wanted, and left.

"Think of them as space pirates, if you wish," Annabelle said, "who caused no damage or loss of life. I believe you have a saying for that: no harm, no foul."

Annabelle continued her explanation, telling him that NASA had investigated but found no answers. "The Human DNA collected was used to create these clones, referred to as First Wave Inserts. They have been on your planet preparing for the arrival of the woman you know as Emelia. We know her as the Mistress."

Annabelle's men drove the van and bodies away. She went on, "These four men were part of an advance team. They died in an accident. I won't go into the details. We learned of their deaths, of their locations. We had a 24-hour window to collect them. Your theft is already being reported that a non-lethal gas attack and robbery. Your government is not going to report the loss of the bodies."

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

The Sahara, Central Chad:

Once everyone had left the shuttle Agent Starr gave a rather brief report, there wasn't much Intel to pass over right now. “Madam President they’re collecting a material they call Geovik, they’ve extracted it from Chad, and most likely other locations as well. I’m certain not all that glitters is Gold. Münchausen Hero Missile. The Road to Hell is paved with good intentions.”

She tried to talk in euphemisms and slang as much as possible, but there was no way of knowing if the aliens knew what she was saying or if the President did. The Aliens were not to be trusted, she didn’t know what the end game was, but her gut said humans were food, and or slaves, in the long run. And when the Matluk were done. Earth would be empty, or a farm for the Matluk to cull from.

But how do you tell the POTUS, someone notorious for ignoring advisers, what to do. She ignored security details; she ignored the people she paid to advise her on situations. She was headstrong and was going to ruin Earth. The problem was that if they put their backs up now, the Matluk would cut them off from any Intel and ally with the Russians or any of the desert dwelling fanatics.

 

[AnnieBloom]

The Sahara, Central Chad:

“Madam President, they’re collecting a material they call Geovik,” M’Chel began her report. “They’ve extracted it from Chad, and most likely other locations as well.”

Angela looked to her Chief of Staff, who only shrugged his shoulders, having never heard the name before. He offered, “Could be their word for gold or uranium? Some other valuable metal.”

Angela understood the Agent’s Münchausen by proxy reference in regard to destroying the missile. Angela was conflicted about her feelings regarding the Matluk. On one hand, they hadn't yet done anything nefarious to Humans, as far as Angela knew. On the other hand, though, they were a powerful race with scientific advancements far ahead of anything Humankind had, and Emelia had already made it clear that the Matluk were not happy with the way Humans had treated their planet.

To the Matluk, Humans were just ants crawling about on a picnic blanket, being a pest. If the aliens wanted, Angela was certain, they could just press a thumb down on Humans and squish them to death.

“Thank you for your report, Agent Starr,” she said. Wondering whether or not M’Chel might have more to say in a more secure situation, she suggested, “When it is convenient for the Emissary to do so, please have her return you to DC. Tell her it's an HR issue, because of your new assignment.”

 

[HumanBean]

(Continues from post #102)

Denver, Colorado:

Liam couldn't believe what he was hearing. Incredible. The true definition of the word: lacking credibility. And yet, the more Annabelle described what her people had done, the more he began to believe it. Clones. Human dolls waiting for specificity. Space pirates. A hijacked space station. A government coverup. Well, that last one. Liam had no problem believing that one.

He wanted to ask why Gregory Charles had been cloned. He wanted to know if there were other Charles clones out there. Were the thugs working with Annabelle cloned Humans. Or were they just Human muscle? Why did they have to clone Humans in the first place? If they already had the clay Ken dolls, why couldn't they turn them into walking, talking Humans?

There were questions beyond the whole clone thing, too. Advance team, she'd said. Advance for what? What were they preparing for? Invasion of the planet? Maybe they were probing humans to learn their biological weaknesses. No, not that. They already knew enough about Humans to know how to the clone them. No, it had to be something else.

What had the alien invaders wanted in other movies? Invasion of the Body Snatchers: that had been about replacing all humans to take over the planet, right? Independence Day: conquest and exploitation of planet Earth. Oblivion: stealing Earth's water. There were more, of course. They'd all been about exploiting the planet of its people, resources, or both.

Liam had been reading that the Matluk weren't like that. Of course, in half of the alien movies, the invaders had started out as benevolent beings. He told Annabelle, "I need to know just two things. First ... that you are as benevolent as your boss Emelia says you are, that you're not body snatchers or soul suckers or planet destroyers or whatever else Hollywood might have said aliens would be when they finally came to Planet Earth."

He conspicuously looked Annabelle up and down. With a smirk, he said, "And second ... that you'll go to dinner with me so that we can talk more about why you're here on Earth ... and ... so that we can drink a bottle of wine ... and talk about us."

Liam knew Annabelle wouldn't tell him the truth if they were here to destroy the Human Race. He was less certain how she would react to his obvious solicitation of a romantic dinner.

 

[AnnieBloom]

May 9th, 2035, 4 days after the missile incident:

President Angela Paulson:

She hadn't slept more than 4 hours a night since the ICBM incident. North Korean President Kim Jong Un had denied launching the missile, claiming that the Matluk and possibly the US, too, had launched it as a pretext for destroying and invading his country. Angela, her Secretary of State, her Ambassador to China (the country acting on behalf of North Korea), and others had been in nearly 24/7 diplomacy efforts to prevent an all-out nuclear war.

Ironically, Angela was conflicted about who she wanted to be the guilty party. If North Korea was proven to be responsible for the missile, the United States had to respond, likely with its own nuclear weapons. If the Matluk were faking this, like Secret Service Agent M'Chel Starr believed and North Korea was claiming, then that meant Angela had to respond with an attack on the mother ship. Didn't it?

Angela's Chairman of the Joint Chiefs had assured her that the Air Force was up to destroying the Matluk ship. POTUS wasn't convinced. "You saw how easily they intercepted the North Korean missile, yes? What's gonna keep them from intercepting ours, even if we launch everyone of them?"

On an entirely different topic, Angela had almost entirely forgotten about the knife her Vice President had put into her back. Almost. When things got quiet, which wasn't often, she recalled her meeting with Clark Griffin in the Oval, specifically how he'd told her she'd fucked up, though, not in those exact words.

A knock at the door to the Oval was followed by Angela's secretary entering to say, "Agent Starr, Madam President."

"Send him in," she responded. Angela had hoped that Emelia would make M'Chel available sooner. For reasons not explained, it had taken three days for a shuttle to deliver the Agent back to Andrews, and it had taken another 24 for Angela to arrange a meeting. As M'Chel entered, Angela eager gestured her to a seat, asking, "What do you have to tell me, Agent Starr?"


Camille Barker-Sullivan
South Australia:

Camille took the motel room key and headed back out of the lobby. On the way, she looked for security cameras, seeing none. She looked to the old beater pickup truck she'd bought from a hard-up sheep farmer and nodded. From where he was scrunched down near the passenger side door, her husband slipped out and headed to meet her. James wore a ball cap, dark sunglasses, and medical face mask, which with a recent reemergence of COVID wasn't all that strange to see.

Once in the room, Camille told him, "I think we're okay. We can relax." She wrapped her arms around his torso, squeezing him tightly. "No one will find us here."

They'd disappeared from their cabin in the Outback in the dead of night three days earlier. James hadn't yet been ordered to report to the Geovik site for transport to the mother ship, but he'd known that it was coming. He wasn't willing to leave Camille. This was their first night to sleep on a real bed since running. Camille had been withdrawing cash in small amounts from every ATM they passed, building up their nest egg without going into the bank.

"I need a shower," she told her husband, already stripping her smelly, sweaty clothes off. Their new ride didn't have air conditioning, and even south of the Outback, the temperatures were ranging between morning lows of 26 Celsius (79 Fahrenheit) and late afternoon highs of 44 C (111 F). She was quickly naked, striking a sexy pose as she asked, "Care to join me, big boy?"

Annabelle, in Wyoming:

The First Wave Insert had accepted Liam Nellis's invitation to dinner the day he delivered the dead Matluks to her. She found him as attractive as he found her and having been on the planet for almost a decade in her present form, she understood the pleasures and satisfaction achievable through sexual interaction. She called him a couple of days later to arrange dinner and drinks in a hotel restaurant in Sterling, a city of 15,000 northeast of Denver.

She was wearing a tight-fitting, leopard-print dress that boosted her generous bosom up top and barely reached past her fit, firm ass cheeks down below. Tall spike heels emphasized those ass cheeks and her long, athletic legs. Four different men tried to hit on her while she was waiting at the bar, including the bartender. She playfully ran each of them off by whispering, "Two grand will get you two hours. Six will get you all night." You really found out how much guys wanted to fuck you when you threw numbers like that out.

When Liam showed up, they went directly to the table that had been available for a while. They ordered drinks before Annabelle informed her dinner date, "I have another job for you. Actually, it's related to the one you concluded with great satisfaction for me."

She began giving him the particulars, pausing to give their order to the waiter when he arrived. Annabelle returned to the job offer before smiling to Liam and asking, "What would you think about having our dinner delivered to our room? I did tell you I got a room, didn't I?"

Annabelle doubted that Liam would pass on her offer. Presuming he took her up on it, she'd take him to bed for the roll of his life. She'd only been a Human for a decade, but in that time, she'd learned what men wanted, what she wanted, and how to make sure that both got what they wanted.


Emissary Emelia:

Emelia had known that the US President was eager to talk to her spy, but had made excuse after excuse to delay the Agent's return. "Enjoy the ship. The view is spectacular. We have improved your quarters based upon your suggestions. Still no meat products, but our cook has been toying with new recipes that I think you will enjoy."

M'Chel had been allowed access to the ship's bridge, the repair bays where they worked on shuttles, the engine rooms, and more. She was allowed to watch the processing of Geovik from behind a thick, transparent wall. There wasn't much to the refining process, so Emelia couldn't have imagined that it would be that interesting. Of course, M'Chel wasn't told how the processed mineral was to be used beyond the previously discussed use as a propulsion fuel.

The one compartment that still had some restrictions for M'Chel: Command and Control. C&C was where orders for deployment of shuttles took place, and there were a number of operations taking place that Emelia wasn't prepared to expose to M'Chel, Angela, and the US as a whole. Emelia did allow the Agent into C&C on those occasions when nothing restricted would be witnessed.

Once M'Chel was returned to the planet surface, work in C&C accelerated with Operation Dark Country. The plan was meant to neuter North Korea, turning the big, barking dog into a whimpering little puppy. (It was named for the fact that during the night, satellite images of North Korea, below, showed how the lack of basic electrical distribution left the nation looking like it was suffering a permanent blackout.)

The operation began with the mother ship simply disappearing from all Earthly detection systems, whether telescopes, cameras, or electronic sensors (radar, microwave, etc.). With stealth activated, the propulsion systems fired up, moving the ship to low Earth orbit over North Korea in less than two hours. Even before it achieved its new position, nearly all of the Matluk shuttles had already disengaged from the mother ship and taken their positions over the hostile country.

Ten minutes after that, the weapons systems powered by the recently refined Geovik fired. Their targets were comprehensive: nuclear missiles and atomic facilities, bombers and fighters, ships and submarines, radar tracking and missile guidance stations, and even individual tanks, anti-aircraft guns, short range missile and rocket launchers, and more. North Korea ranked #5 on the list of most heavily armed countries in the world, so the attack took some time to complete: almost 10 minutes.

Last but not least, the same wide band emitter that had knocked unconscious the soldiers and other residents of the Denvery military base days earlier fired over North Korea's capital, Pyongyang, as well as over three of the country's largest military bases. The effect in this case was much harsher than in Colorado. Those caught by the emission would find themselves unconscious for almost half a day, and after that, most would not fully regain such basic things as walking and standing for up to three days.

President Paulson, again:

Angela was still engaged in conversation with Secret Service Agent M'Chel Starr when the President's Protection Detail burst into the Oval Office to hurry her down into the bunker buried deep beneath the White House. They didn't tell her what was going on right away, but she would soon learn that the Matluk mother ship had disappeared and was now attacking Earth with indescribable weapons and force, which was the initial assessment of the attack on North Korea.

"She's with me!" Angela said, indicating M'Chel, who had initially been pushed aside, despite being Secret Service.

 

[HumanBean]

Washington DC
The Naval Observatory:

Vice President Clark Griffin and his Intern, Alaina Carmichael:

Clark hadn't entirely known what he was going to do about his new Intern. The little minx was demanding too much from him. How dare she? He was the Vice President of the United States of America. She was an 18-year-old wannabe journalist whose greatest accomplishment was being part of an award-winning cheerleading squad.

The problem for Clark was simple and obvious, though. He couldn't get her body out of his mind. He'd seen her topless, then fully naked. The viewings were courtesy of the additional surveillance cameras positioned throughout the home's swimming pool, exercise room, and now even the shower room.

Sure, yeah, it was an invasion of Alaina's privacy. And if she reported Clark, the scandal would be a career killer. But he was certain that Alaina knew all about the new cameras. Oh, maybe not their exact locations. But the way she flaunted herself when swimming, exercising, or showering afterward. This wasn't normal behavior. This was teasing.

And it was working. Clark had radically changed several aspects of his life. She'd demanded he live more healthily if he ever wanted to put his cock inside her. He'd originally considered simply canning her. Firing and even humiliating interns were sports in Washington DC. He could move on to another Intern. Any new girl would be easy to bang than Alaina Carmichael.

But Clark couldn't and wouldn't do that. First, she was too incredible to pass on. He'd had beautiful women, of course. A movie actress. A Playboy centerfold. The winners of his home state's Miss Illinois pageants in 2018, 2019, 2023, and 2027, as well as six runners up in other years. And, of course, his wife. Marjorie had been a runway, swimsuit, and lingerie model before they met. She'd only given up that life when she began dedicating herself to his political career.

Alaina was something else, though. It wasn't just her body. It wasn't just her face. It was her attitude. It was her outlook on life. She made Clark feel young again. No woman, not even his expensive escorts, made him feel that way. So, he'd changed. He was going to be earlier so that he could get up to swim with her at four in the fucking morning! He'd given up alcohol, with the exception of social drinks with those supporting his efforts to replace Angela Paulson in the Oval.

The Observatory's pantry had practically been emptied out to replace the shit he'd been eating with healthier foods. Clark had hated that at first. Some of the meals seemed to have no taste at all. And the textures of some of them were simply weird. This madness had started four days ago. And to his surprise, Clark's taste buds had become coming alive. He hadn't realized what all that grease and fat and cholesterol had been doing to him. Alaina had him eating fruits and vegetables like they were candy.

He still got his occasional steak and potatoes. But this was only when he was out with campaign patrons, foreign diplomats, and such. Even then, Clark had surprised himself by sometimes ordering healthy food. Add to this the exercise from swimming. And more time on the stationary bike. And the treadmill. And jogging the grounds. In just four days, Clark had already lost eight pounds. How the fuck does someone lose eight pounds in four days?

The best change, however, was Alaina, though. She still hadn't opened her thighs to Clark, of course. But her exhibitionism was in full swing. She'd started with spandex outfit that were little more than a second skin. Her nipples screamed Look at us, look at us in pink and baby blue and virgin white. She'd continued swimming topless. But she was now doing so while Clark was in the pool as well. He kept his hands to himself. He was being a good boy. He'd wait. She was worth it.

One morning, she'd taken his cell phone while they were in separate shower rooms. When he got it back, there were very erotic partial and full nudes of her. Oh, she kept her face out of the images, of course. She wasn't an idiot. But Clark got what he wanted: inspiration for his masturbation.

Topping that off, she sent him a video of her showering. Again, her face was indistinguishable. But the view of her soapy hands caressing over her delicious curves. Oh, it was spectacular. And it didn't stop there. She set up a camera phone to record the sound of her as she masturbated just out of camera shot. Clark almost didn't care if he ever got to poke her. The pre-show was enough, for now.

(OOC: This post was written with a great deal of PM input from The_Weeping_Angel. Thanks!)

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

Washington DC
White House
Agent Starr

When Agent Starr was finally able to walk among humans again, after three multiple days of requests, she grabbed a shower and burger and then sat down with an architectural engineer and described the layout of the ship the best she could. Landing bay size based in strides, how many shuttles it carried. Distance from room to room, basically mapping the ship from her walks. Layout of rooms that she’d been allowed to see.

And talking with the POTUS about how little she was allowed to see. When Emelia wasn’t going to Earth publicly, she was given an escort and allowed to see whatever a tourist was allowed to see. Which was basically squat.

Look at this empty room.. ‘ooohhhh…’ isn’t it so pretty. This is our CNC, no you can’t go inside, looky looky from the doorway at the four people walking around with their thumbs up their asses.

Everyone was in these armored suits for their protection from your alien virus. Bullshit. If you had a potential containment they got stuck in a suit. An entire hospital didn’t put on protective gear to make it a safe space for the patient. The patient was isolated and everyone else walked free.

They were pulling some shit.

But Starr had spent enough military time on ships that she could make an educated guess on what seat did what. Granted a crewman would be better, but she did what she could.

The big question was, what were they doing with all the unseen space? It couldn’t be nothing but engines. Nobody sane built a ship that big to travel that far for a few hundred people. There had to be tens of thousands of people.

And she hadn’t been shown the “Brain room”. The room where they put Emilia's consciousness into the Captain’s body. And she’d asked. Several times. Out of curiosity of course.

And then the Secret Service was grabbing the President and tunning her down a hall, M’Chel dragged along in the wake. It was when they got to the stairs, Starr knew the shit was bad. They were going to the Command Bunker.

The Matluk had declared War on Earth.

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

Bedroom
Alaina

Taking several very inappropriate photos of herself lying in bed with lingerie draped strategically, but still allowing nipple to show through, Alaina sent them to her special driver, Kyle. The VP was behaving and was keeping her busy with work, so she hadn’t had time to go out and do anything. But she figured she owed him for the ‘Adult’ ID’s and taking her to go shopping.

She even selected a few pieces of lingerie and posed for the mirror, the light brown curls between her thighs visible if you zoomed in, as she knew he would. Several pics were over her shoulder so he could see her butt. And she had a nice ass, she’d been told so by a number of people.

Each day the VP played nice she took pictures. She even sent one to her driver of her laying in bed, her hand between her thighs, her leg up and hiding just what was happening. But He would know.

And just to be an extra tease she put a teddy bear face first into her crotch and took a picture.

That picture she sent to both of them. One at a time of course, no need to tell them about each other. And since she didn’t want her face plastered across the net for all eternity, every picture was viewed and edited to make sure her face wasn't in the pic. Especially the mirror ones. As well as any identifying items. She only allowed blank walls in her back grounds. Distinguishable wall paper was a bad idea.

There were a few things she’d love for Kyle to do to her. But she had plans for the VP as well, if he played his cards right very soon, he’d be filling her in more ways than one. Honey begets Honeypot after all.

 

[AnnieBloom]

Washington DC
The White House Bunker:

Angela hadn't had time to absorb all Agent Starr was telling her before the two of them were hurried into the bunker, deep beneath the White House.

The bunker shared the same capabilities as the Situation Room, only with fewer advisors and aides present. Within minutes of securing the bunker doors, though, Angela was in contact with pretty much every National Security Council member who wasn't present.

“It's North Korea,” one aide told her. “We're not entirely sure what's happening. What we do know is that they're being attacked by the Matluk.”

The gist was explained to her: the mother ship had fallen off the detection grid for two hours, only to reappear with a fleet of shuttles over North Korea, just before hell broke loose.

“Counter attack?” Angela asked with concern. She knew Kim Jong Un’s threats well. “South Korea? Japan? Have they been hit?”

“No, Madam President. There has been no counter attack. In fact…”

When the Army officer speaking went silent, Angela pressed, “What? What? Somebody talk to me. Tell me something.”

“Madam President, it's the Emissary,” another officer interrupted. He gestured toward a large monitor on which a very calm, politely smiling Emelia was waiting patiently for the connection to be made on the DC side.

“Do it, ” Angela ordered. When told that the communication was live two way, POTUS asked with concern, “Emissary, I'm going to be blunt: what the fuck have you done?”

“I have done what you, the United States, and you personally, Madam President, could not do,” Emelia answered, adding, “without the fear of the deaths of millions of innocent lives.”

“And what exactly have you done, Emissary?” Angela pressed.

“I have disabled the military capability of the Democratic People's Republic of Korea, Madam President,” Emelia answered. “I should say, we are destroying that capability, as the effort is currently ongoing. I believe the last of that country's armor, naval units, and aircraft should be essentially worthless within the hour. Happily, I can also tell you that this is being accomplished with a bare minimum of lives lost to the DPRK’s forces. I do not wish to kill Human Beings, particularly innocent Human Beings who are simply following their Master’s orders. Our attack focused on military equipment, Madam President.”

Angela stared at the alien leader in shock and disbelief, unable to even fathom a response. Was this really happening? Had North Korea's military, the 5th largest in the world, been wiped out in minutes? What about the nukes? At the last count by Intelligence sources and, believe it or not, Kim Jong Un’s own bragging, North Korea had at least 30 working nuclear weapons, either ready missiles, unmounted warheads, or bombs meant for aerial delivery by plane.

Then, Emelia dropped her own bomb: “It is safe for your forces to occupy North Korea at this time, Madam President. The weapons we used to accomplish this are of no danger to your troops. There is no radioactive or biological threat whatsoever.”

Again, Angela just stared in disbelief. Invade? Are you kidding? It wasn't as if they couldn't invade the North. The United States had over 40,000 military personnel in South Korea, well over half of whom were combat troops. South Korea had 500,000 active duty troops with a reserve of over 3 million. If North Korea was truly defeated as Emelia claimed, taking control would be a walk in the park.

For reasons she couldn't explain, Angela found herself looking to one particular Aide for an opinion: Secret Service Agent M’Chel Starr.

 

[HumanBean]

Arlington, Virginia:

Kyle had been going crazy over what was happening with Alaina. What wasn't happening with Alaina, actually. She'd masturbated in the back seat of his Towncar. Out of sight, yes. But not out of hearing range. That had seemed to him to be a gimme that they'd soon be fucking.

And yet, he hadn't seen or heard from her in days. Then. Holy fuck! The pics began arriving at his phone. She was unbelievable! Kyle found himself masturbating almost immediately after each text. Didn't matter where he was: home in bed, at work in a stretch or shorty, once in the bathroom of the hotel bar where his client was entertaining foreign diplomats.

Didn't matter when or where. He'd been caught once, even. In a corner booth of one of the sex clubs he'd told Alaina about. A guy passing by saw Kyle with a hand down his pants and laughed. When Kyle showed him the picture on his phone, the guy joined him in the booth. They each knocked one out before spending the rest of the night laughing, drinking, and telling stories about their sex lives.

Kyle followed up each text with a plea to see Alaina. In hopes of making it happen soon, he reciprocated with pictures of himself. He sent full body pics of himself in nothing more then Speedo-style underwear. He was a very fit guy, with muscular arms, legs, and chest, as well as well defined abs.

Alaina's pics got really good after a while. Kyle began sending her dick pics. He always preceded them with a warning text. He didn't want her shocked or grossed out. Today, he sent the text warning of GRAPHIC! Tell me when you're ready. Here got a response. Then he sent her a video of him masturbating. He spewed repeatedly high into the air. The droplets came down all over his chest, belly, and hand.

"Need to see you soon, PLEASE! " he texted her.

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

Washington DC
The White House Bunker:

When the President looked at Her M'Chel started to give response when one of the Military advisors, a 3 star General, The Secretary of Defense, started talking about moving troops and equipment in and claiming the Northern Territory.

“Are you out of your fucking mind you cunt faced moron? You’ll through us into a war with Russian and China at the same fucking time!” Agent Star yelled getting in the Generals face. “Madam President, it's a Korea Problem. Get on the Phone tell south Korea what happened, and that we will reinforce them if they choose to move in and investigate the situation in the North, and we will aid in logistical supplies for the citizens of Korea. My advice is that you NOT send any of our troops into The North without the south leading the way. Otherwise, it’s an invasion that will be taken the wrong way. If we help the south aid, it’s norther countrymen, we should be safe from any... backlash.”

Looking at the General she grunted. “I liked being in the military, except it had to many fucking officers that didn’t do shit on the ground. And before you get your boxers in a bunch, I work for her, not you. So don’t bother trying to fire, or reprimand, me.”

“To repeat, aid and support the Korea people, but we don’t cross the border until they do, and ONLY in SUPPORT. And I’d start shipping food and medical, fast. If the Chinese roll in it will be another war.”

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

Washington DC
The White House Bunker:

“I knew this shit was gonna be bad,” M’Chel told the POTUS in a side whisper. “New kid at School is a bully and has started kicking the ass of anyone they think is a threat to their bully dominance. Who’s next. Russia? China? Us? We’d be the smart choice. Take us out and the rest of the world will bend a knee right quick.”

“They took North Korea in less then fifteen minutes. We never even saw them moving. Cloaking devices. Shields. They knocked out all the people? So long range stun weapons.”

“If this is friendly, I’d hate to see angry.” She sighed. “Nobody flies across a galaxy for a BBQ. And the Colonists have landed.” Fuck could she trade in her hand guns for a laser rifle? Now she knew what Native Americans felt when Whites landed on their shores. What Mayans/Incans/Azteccs felt when The Spaniards landed. What every weaker species has felt when newcomers landed.

They’d fight. And they’d die.

 

[AnnieBloom]

Washington DC
The White House Bunker:

President Paulson was shocked when M'Chel uncorked on her Secretary of Defense. She stepped closer to the woman and, with her back to the General, growled in whispering volume, “Agent Starr! Tone it down.”

“Madam President, it's a Korea Problem,” M’Chel stressed. She continued with her advice of informing the South Korean government of what they'd heard and suggesting that they deal with this with their forces.

Angela listened to her newest Agent while simultaneously watching the reactions of the others spread about the bunker. There was surprise on some of the faces that a lowly Secret Service Agent would chastise a 3 Star General, as well as some disapproval. But at the same time, Angela saw nodding heads in approval of M’Chel’s opinion.

“If we help the south aid its northern countrymen,” the Agent continued, “we should be safe from any... backlash.”

Angela considered that thought for a moment, wondering if they would be helping the people of the North by freeing them of their current regime? If you went by the propaganda released by Kim’s state controlled media, you would think that the whole of the DPRK's population loved their dictator. But facts and intelligence said otherwise.

M’Chel continued her rant at the General, speaking of one of the military's chief problems: senior officers who just didn't get it. Angela had experienced such officers during her time in the service, too, and she had been one. M’Chel again stressed that the US needed to not participate in the invasion. “ONLY in SUPPORT.”

The Agent changed direction, criticizing the Matluk again, comparing them to bully's kicking ass simply to establish and maintain their dominance. Angela was still conflicted about her feelings toward Emelia and her people. They'd prevented a hurricane from destroying Houston and possibly killing dozens or even hundreds of residents. They'd intercepted a presumably nuclear missile that would have erased Washington DC from the map. And M'Chel had reported what the Matluk had done in Chad and were now reported to be repeating in Niger, Ethiopia, Afghanistan, and India.

On the other hand, they'd taken to secretly mining some unknown mineral or ore or whatever from at least one location in the world without informing the United States. Sure, it wasn't really an American concern, but aliens mining a potentially powerful ore on the sly just didn't sit well with Angela. And now, apparently, they'd destroyed the world's 5th largest army in minutes.

"The incident in Denver a few days ago," she asked, looking around for the highest-ranking member of the FBI. "Was it what just happened to the troops and others in North Korea?"

"Sorry, Madam President, we just don't know," the man said. "We're still trying to figure out what happened in Colorado. And our best placed operative in Pyongyang hasn't contacted us. Likely, she's out cold, too, just like more than 3 million North Koreans."

“If this is friendly," M'Chel began again, "I’d hate to see angry.”

"Who's running CFC now, which General?" Angela asked her Chairman of the Joint Chiefs. She was referring to Combined Forces Command, the command arm of the forces from the Republic of Korea and the United States protecting the south. The Chairman reminded her, and Angela said, "Contact him--"

"Her, Madam President," the Chairman corrected. "General Francis MacAllister, Commander US 8th Army."

"Contact her, Chairman," Angela continued. "Tell her everything we know, then--"

She paused, considering what she was about to say. She looked to M'Chel again, knowing the Agent's opinion. To the Chairman, she said, "Tell General MacAllister that no US service personnel or equipment are to enter North Korean territory -- land, water, or air -- but that she can provide any and all support inside South Korea."

"Yes, ma'am," the Chairman said, turning to get to work.

Angela told her Chief of Staff, "I want to talk to Seoul, now. President Yoon."

"He's on the line now, Madam President," she was told by an officer who pointed to the phone before her. "Line 1."

"Line 1," Angela mumbled. "I should hope so." She looked to M'Chel, smiled weakly, and said, "Here goes. I hope you're right."

 

[HumanBean]

Florida:

Vice President Clark Griffin was in Miami when the Press began reporting the attack on North Korea. He'd been playing golf.

He'd also been courting campaign donors. Clark believed he had enough support now to formally announce his run for the presidency.

Then Korea. The timing couldn't have been worse. Clark had been waiting for a quiet news cycle. He wanted America's full attention.

"We'll have to wait," he told his Chief of Staff. "Let's get back to DC."

"Can't, Mister Vice President," his Number One told him. "Secret Service is telling us you can't be in Washington while this is going on. They want you and President Paulson as far apart as possible."

This was a bit upsetting. Clark had met with all his donors. He'd played as much golf as he could stomach. What else was there to do? Fuck and suck?

He hadn't brought Alaina with him on this trip. Clark had known that he would be surrounded by cameras. Far more than normal. He already had a reputation as a philanderer.

No one had ever found proof: no pictures, no videos. But there had been accusations by women who had worked for him. Or partied with him.

He'd been provided entertainment by his Chief of Staff, thankfully. Frank always knew where to find a escort who understood discretion. Even so, Clark wasn't entirely content with the company. He wanted Alaina. It had been nearly a week since she threw down the gauntlet. He believed he'd shown her he could change. That he had changed. It was time.

And then Korea. Fuck! This was going to eat up all his time and energy.

 

[HumanBean]

(OOC: Continuing from Post #106, in the middle, Camille's portion.)

May 9th, 2035, 4 days after the missile incident:
South Australia:

James hadn't been so stressed in all of his existence as a Human Being. He'd spent nearly the entirety of it in the Outback. He'd had Matluk company at first. There had been accidents that had eventually left him all alone. He'd been alone. Then he'd been lonely. But he'd never been stressed. He had his work. It had kept him busy.

Then he'd found Camille. After that, James had been the happiest non-Human Human on the planet. He'd never experienced stress before. It was a new emotion to him. They were having to sneak around now, to stay out of sight. You would think that that would be easy in the Australian Outback. Nobody lived here. And yet, there were still cameras. Dash cameras were very popular with ranchers protecting their property and herds. Drones filming the incredible terrain of the Outback occasionally flew overhead. The Authorities used both types of cameras to keep an eye on things, too.

James knew that to be seen on a camera was dangerous. Anyone uploading images to any form of internet or cloud would alert the Emissary to his location. The Matluk had tapped into Pine Gap's intelligence systems. They were now tapped into just about anything and everything. James was certain Emelia knew by now that he was missing. He kicked himself for the way he and Camille had left. He should have made it look as if he'd died in an accident. Instead, they'd simply disappeared. Mistake. Big fucking mistake.

At the motel, James slunk into the room. She told him, "I think we're okay. We can relax. No one will find us here."

"You do not know that," he said. His consciousness had begun reverting to his first days as a Matluk-Human. He'd abandoned contractions, for one. He recognized this. He was okay with it, though. Returning to thinking like a Matluk might help. To avoid your enemy, think like your enemy. That wasn't the actual Human saying, of course. The original was something about defeating or capturing your enemy. James couldn't remember and didn't care. He told his wife, "We can't let our guard down until we are out of Australia. Maybe not even then."

They had a plan. Get off the continent. Find a new, remote location. Build a cabin far away from other people. Return to their life of delightful isolation. It was all they'd ever known together. They'd been happy that way. They didn't need big cities. They didn't need technology. They didn't need anything but each other.

"I need a shower," Camille said, stripping. "Care to join me, big boy?"

James's lips spread. He watched his wife disrobe. He never tired of looking at her. Naked or clothed, it didn't matter. He moved forward to hold and kiss her. He was stiff. He sometimes remembered the first time he'd experienced an erection. It had been a confusing moment. Sure, he'd been instructed on Human physiology and sexuality. But to experience it was incredible.

He followed Camille to the bathroom. Stripping, he joined her. They washed each other's bodies as they continued kissing. James pinned his wife against the wall. He dropped to his knees and used his mouth to make her cry out in ecstasy. Out of the shower, they continued their fun on the bed. Making love to Camille kept the thoughts of Emelia, the Matluk, capture, and punishment at bay.

 

[HumanBean]

(OOC: Continuing from Post #106, Annabelle's portion.)

May 9th, 2035, 4 days after the missile incident
Wyoming:

Liam was kicking himself for his delayed arrival. He was never late. To anything! And yet, he was late to drinks and dinner with the most beautiful woman in the world. Annabelle was also his new boss, of course. Not a good way to start the night. And yet, she was polite when he arrived. They had a table waiting somehow. Liam credited that to her beauty. Bartender, concierge, or valet, any man would do what he needed to keep a woman like her happy.

"I have another job for you," she told him. "Actually, it's related to the one you concluded with great satisfaction for me."

She began explaining another heist. Liam wasn't horribly interested in it. He didn't tell her that, of course. She was his boss now. She was paying him a lot of money to do what she asked. But Liam was at heart a gun runner. Yes, he often stole the weapons he later sold. But those heists had been few and far between.

There was another aspect of this job that concerned Liam. Annabelle was providing the muscle. Liam didn't have to recruit a team. That meant no money out of his pocket. But it also meant he was surrounded by men -- Matluk -- who were loyal first to Annabelle, not to him. That was concerning. He could see the muscle completing the heist, then putting many, many bullets through his head and body.

Liam was considering the job when Annabelle suddenly asked, "What would you think about having our dinner delivered to our room? I did tell you I got a room, didn't I?"

He smiled broadly. "No. You didn't." He looked to the waitress, gesturing. He told the young beauty, "Put these on her room. And have a bottle of Dom sent up as well." He chuckled, knowing that the cost of the bottle would go onto her room's tab.

 

[HumanBean]

(OOC: Continuing from Post #85.)

May 9th, 2035, 4 days after the missile incident
Chad, at the southern reach of the Sahara Desert:

Billy Grant had been sad to see the Emissary leave Chad four days earlier. She had had other things to do, he'd presumed. He couldn't have known that she was about to destroy the country of North Korea. Well, not the country. Just its military.

The remoteness of the project in Chad had no delay in Billy hearing of the attack. They had plenty of technology at the site. They had needed it for planning. The news came in here just as quickly as it had Washington DC or Seoul. His first thought was not a generous one. The Emissary had given the people of this village a great gift. And then she'd attacked an entire country?

Billy had been monitoring the expansion of the reservoir. His field was aquifers. He'd had concerns that the ancient underground pool of water would be depleted over the long term. But Emelia had promised that rain would come to the region. One of the scientists on the team had been informed of a Matluk technology similar to the old Human cloud seeding technologies. Billy had reviewed the science and numbers. It looked legit. It looked sustainable.

Billy had been in the Sahara for four days. He would have thought he'd be ready to leave after just one day. Honestly, if you ignored the higher temperature, Central Chad wasn't much different from his home in Central Washington. Dry, open, sparsely populated. There were obvious differences, of course: primitive architecture, a population of mostly Africans and Arabs, and few people who spoke his only language of English.

His work with the project was pretty much over. But Billy was in no hurry to leave. He'd met a woman. She was a dozen years older than him. But she was the most exciting, more sensuous, most erotic thing he'd ever met. They'd ogled each other their first night in Chad. They'd had drinks and light conversation the second night. They'd walked together in the dark the third night, finishing with a passionate kiss. And finally, last night, they'd gone to bed together. It had been one of the most exciting, pleasurable, satisfying nights of his life.

Billy arose as a shaft of morning light hit him in the face through the open flap of his tent. He realized that his new lover was leaving. Anxious, he asked, "Where ya goin'? It's still early."

(OOC: AnnieBloom is taking over from here when she gets a chance. )

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

Washington DC
Alaina Carmichael

With the VP in Miami and her left to her own devices for a few days Alaina sulked. She wasn’t even able to see the Beaches of Florida. If the VP was fucking anybody he was in deep shit. A couple text messages to the rather cranky driver he was using in Florida, and she had her answers.

When he got back, she’d have the Doctor give him physical and a blood check, since someone in his hotel had Dengue Fever, they needed to make sure he was safe and healthy. He’d also be checked for and STD’s because his Intern was overprotective of her new boss and didn’t want to lose this opportunity of a career so soon after starting it.

Yeah, she lied through her teeth, but fuck it, this was Washington DC. Everyone lied.

However, she did take the opportunity to go to the nightclubs with a rather cute Driver she knew. And when she slid into the back seat of the Limo she knew where his eyes were. The side laced LBD was killer eye catching and with matching heels and clutch she knew she had his attention.

Waving her ‘Adult’ ID she smiled. “I want to use this.”

 

[AnnieBloom]

The Korean Peninsula:

It had taken Germany 26 days to complete its conquest of Poland in 1939. In 2003, coalition forces had captured Baghdad in just 22 days. Those invasions were nothing compared to what was to happen on the Korean Peninsula.

Less than an hour after President Angela Paulson informed South Korean President Yoon of the situation in the North, the latter's forces were already on the move. The South had had an invasion plan in place for decades, of course. The plan had included US forces as well, but today's invasion didn't. President Paulson had made it clear that no American soldier, marine, or sailor would step foot into DPRK territory.

Even without the Americans at their side, the South Korean forces rolled easily into the North. The DPRK forces had virtually no working armor, artillery, or aircraft. Most of the northern forces surrendered without resistance, while other put up a very short and ineffective fight. As tanks and armored vehicles were rushing up highways, airborne units were dropping further inland to secure bridges, and amphibious units were hitting beaches progressively farther north.

Just an amazing 6 days after the invasion began, the Acting Commander of DPRK forces proposed a ceasefire and negotiations for peace talks. North Korea's President Kim was initially nowhere to be found, and South Korea's President Yoon refused any negotiations or ceasefire until Kim was in custody. Two more days passed before Kim's body was turned over to South Korean forces. His cause of death was never released, as part of the treaty negotiations.

All the time the invasion was taking place, President Paulson was in constant communications with the President of China. Angela practically begged China to stay out of the fight. She repeated Agent Starr's own words, telling the China president, "It's a Korean thing."

China wasn't initially interested in allowing North Korea to fall, of course. For seven decades, they'd been helping their neighbor survive. Aliens or not, they weren't simply going to let the country be invaded. But negotiations over unrelated disputes, such as the South China Sea islands and the Uyghurs issues in West China, each of which went their way, convinced China to keep their forces on their side of the border.

Russia was having its own issues, of course. The war in Ukraine was still in full swing after 13 years, and conflicts on their southern borders were threatening the total collapse of the Russian Federation. They had no interest in becoming embroiled in yet another conflict.

The irony was that after she'd started it all, the Emissary stayed entirely out of the situation. Angela had attempted to contact Emelia several times over the following days, each time being told that the Emissary wasn't available. As far as she knew, Emelia didn't contact any of the other participants of the situation either. Emelia wasn't out of the public eye, though. She was keeping busy promoting the benevolent operations the Matluk were running around the world, most of them in Third World nations.

 

[HumanBean]

Washington DC

Kyle Watson

He practically screamed out in joy when he got the call from Alaina Carmichael. Finally she'd called him for a date. At least, he initially thought it was a date. She came out of the Observatory to the car and got into the back seat, though. He hoped she'd done so for the benefit of the Observatory staff, watching from the windows? Or was he nothing more than a chauffeur once again.

Kyle was tickled to see her either way. Particularly dressed as she was. Oh, the bared skin. The outer curvature of her breasts. Of her buttocks. It all screamed Touch me! I want to be touched! Kyle was more than willing to serve Alaina if that was what she needed.

"Where to, Miss?" Kyle asked with a professional tone.

She flashed the fake ID he'd secured for her. “I want to use this.”

"Dance club, hotel bar..." Kyle asked. With a more suggestive tone, he finished, "...or sex club?"

It didn't matter which she named. There was one or more of each within a mile of them. Kyle was known by the doormen at all of them. Typically, his clients slipped money to the doormen. Kyle didn't go in, after all. Tonight, though, there was hope. He wasn't wearing his normal chauffeur's uniform. He was dressed in a sports jacket and slacks. When they arrived, he would ask Alaina if she wanted company. Then, finally, he would know whether or not it was a date.

 

[The_Weeping_Angel]

“Someplace I can Dance, I don’t Drink, but you might be. And If I get naked I don’t have to worry about people taking stalker images of me and my body ending up on the internet.” Alaina replied, sliding her nails along the edge of her dress. And if her dress climbed any higher she’d be flashing when she climbed out of the car.

Moving through the club she dragged Kyle onto the dance floor before he could even think about a table or food. And when she moved, she ground against his crotch like they were horizontal and naked. And she had the body for it.

 

[HumanBean]

"Desires", Washington DC:

“Someplace I can Dance," Alaina answered when asked where she wanted to go.

Kyle was disappointed. He was hoping she might want to go to a sex club. She only wanted to dance. And she still hadn't said whether or not he was joining her.

Then she said about their destination, "And if I get naked, I don’t have to worry about people taking stalker images of me and my body ending up on the internet.”

That made Kyle smile wide with delight. "I know just the place."

He drove a bit farther than he'd expected to reach Desires. It was sort of a fusion dance/sex club. There were no restrictions to exhibition. Getting naked, as Alaina had said, wouldn't be a problem. But there were no rooms for sex. And explicit sexual acts were discouraged. There was a great deal of touching, caressing, and groping. But jerking men off or fingering women's pussies was off limit and could get you politely escorted to the exit.

He pulled up to the club's entrance and got out. A valet opened Alaina's door, helping her out. Kyle was sure he was about to be dismissed for a while. To his very pleasant surprise, he was invited to join her. Kyle tossed the keys to the valet. They knew each other and shared a knowing smile.

Inside, Kyle took a look around. He'd brought clients here a couple of dozen times. But this was his first time inside. It was all he'd expected. Pounding dance music. Writhing bodies. Considerable exposed flesh. Tits, asses, and cocks were being flashed by maybe a third of the patrons. Maybe half of the rest were down to their underwear. It was a voyeur's paradise.

Kyle had escorted Alaina inside with a hand upon her back. They had barely paid their cover -- $100 for him, $50 for her, which Kyle happily paid -- before Alaina grabbed Kyle by the hand and pulled him out onto the dance floor. She immediately began grinding against him, getting him instantly hard. It was far less dancing than it was sexual stimulation. Kyle caressed his hands up and down her body as he mirrored her moves. He loved the feel of her skin through the grid up and down the sides of her dress.

He wasn't sure whether he should kiss her or not. What they were doing was explicit. Kissing, though, was intimate. Kyle had known a lot of women who were explicit but not intimate. That would sound strange to most people. But many of the people Kyle met were definitely strange.

If she kissed him, though, Kyle would most definitely reciprocate.

 

[AnnieBloom]

The White House,
Washington DC

5 days after the invasion of North Korea began:

“Come in, Agent Starr,” Angela said, gesturing M’Chel toward one of the arm chairs nearer the center of the Oval Office. She came around her desk to shake hands with the woman who was her best source of first hand intelligence on Emelia.

M’Chel had spent more than 50 hours over 3 days being debriefed after returning from the mothership. CIA, FBI, NSA, and investigators from a new agency still yet unnamed took turns asking questions before Angela stepped in and demanded, “Take some time off. That's an order, Agent.”

Now in the Oval, Angela informed M’Chel, “We just received a request from the Emissary for your return to her protection detail.”

Angela handed M’Chel a sheet of paper, explaining, “Emelia’s itinerary. If she were Taylor Swift or the Beatles, I'd call this a World Tour.”

The itinerary listed 26 cities in 14 countries to be visited over the next two months, with two to three days spent in each location. Angela reminded M”Chel, “Remember, this is a volunteer assignment. You don't have to go. If you wish to pass, you can remain here on my own Protection Detail. We'll send someone else.

“If you’re interested, a shuttle is waiting at Andrews as we speak,” Angela said. “The Emissary wastes no time.” Pointing toward the paper, she noted, “First stop is Moscow. That ought to be interesting.”

Angela had been on the hotline with Russia’s new President, Viktor Kolesnikov, a dozen times since the attack on North Korea. She'd first had to convince him that the US had had no prior knowledge, then that the US was not involved in the actual occupation of the North.

Russia didn't need another war, of course, and Angela knew that. It wasn't as if Viktor had thousands of fresh troops waiting around for action somewhere in the world. Angela's fear, of course, was Russia’s nuclear arsenal. The last thing Angela needed after North Korea launching one nuclear ICBM was Russia launching dozens or even hundreds of them.

 

[AnnieBloom]

May 9th, 2035

Between the times of the missile incident and the invasion of North Korea

Chad, at the southern reach of the Sahara Desert:

Upon initially meeting Billy Grant, Charlotte Madiot had told Billy Grant that she was nothing more than the coordinator of security for the French contingent’s four members. In a Parisian accent, she'd lied, “My job is to ensure they drink their water, don't dehydrate, and stay away from whores riddled with AIDS.”

That last part wasn't meant to sound racist, of course, but was simple logic. This part of Africa was seeing some of the highest percentages of HIV infection in the world, and those women (and men) servicing others for money were far more likely than not to have the disease which, in Africa, was a death sentence.

Charlie, as her friends called her, knew from the moment she met the younger American expert on aquifer preservation and restoration that they were eventually going to fuck.

She would have rushed it if she'd been in a hurry, but Charlie had known she wasn't going anywhere. She allowed Billy for days to woo her before walking into his tent last night, undressing, and slipping in next to him. They went through three condoms over twice that many hours of incredibly energetic sex before passing out in each other's arms.

Charlie arose at daybreak to clean herself with a sponge dipped repeatedly into a large bowl of water. She watched Billy sleep, smiling at how content he seemed.

Once redressed, Charlie opened the tent flap to leave. Billy awoke just then and asked, "Where ya goin'? It's still early."

“I have work to do, lover,” she said, returning to the bed they'd made on the ground for additional love making room that his cot wouldn't provide. She squatted to kiss Billy, reminding him off why they called it a French kiss. “My contingent is leaving today, returning to Paris.”

She observed his reaction, then laughed. “I'm not leaving, though. My job here isn’t over.”

She kissed him passionately a second time, then said, “I feel I can be truthful with you, William.” She always used his full given name. “My job here, it was not only to protect the French contingent to the project. I have another duty, a higher duty.

“Billy, I was sent here to gather intelligence on the militias working in this area. My job was to learn who they are, where they operate from, who their leaders are.”

The militias in this part of the country were very poor relative to most others, most of whom were associated with ISIS or Al-Qaeda. These bands rarely used radios or cell phones, which meant no eavesdropping from the heavens.

As if that news wasn't enough for him, Charlie then dropped the hammer. “Billy, I'm not like you. I'm not Human. I'm Matluk. I was sent here to investigate the militias so that they could be eliminated without loss of innocent civilian lives.

“I'm sorry about not telling you the truth,” she said with a sincere tone. “But I had – have – a job to do. And I couldn't risk you telling someone.”

She told him, “The Emissary has brought water and the opportunity for progress and prosperity to these people. This will only attract the militias. The Emissary will bring peace to these people by eliminating the militias.