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From: wolf <twolf3@mailcity.com>
NNTP-Posting-Date: Wed, 21 Mar 2001 22:27:53 PST
Subject: {ASSM} {ASS}Repost: CAMP-Ron's Journey PART 7
Date: Thu, 22 Mar 2001 07:10:01 -0500
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As per request. As far as I know this is the last part that was
available. :-)

<1st attachment, "Camp-Ron7.txt" begin>

CAMP - Ron's Journey - Book 7
By: Net Wolf (formerly known as WhiteStar) <netwolf@biosys.net>

-This story may be distributed electronically through the Usenet, so long 
as the first line of this copyright notice is included, and a pointer to 
this message is also included. This story is (C) Copyright 1997-2000 by 
Net Wolf.  For a full copyright notice, go to:
http://www.biosys.net/netwolf.

- This story may be archived, so long as the archive provides totally 
free access. This means that no membership fee, download fee, 
download/upload quota, or AVS service can be required to access the 
story. 

- This story may be printed out a single time, for personal archival and 
use. The author also grants that a printed copy can be made for a friend 
of the reader, given that the recipient of the copy does not have access 
to an electronic version.  NO PAYMENT may be received for any printed 
copy of this story without the written consent of the author. This 
includes, but is not limited to, a fee to defray the costs of printing. 

- This story MAY NOT be placed on any commercial service without the 
express written consent of the author. Any commercial use of this product 
is a violation of this copyright.
-----------------
Author's Note: You may note in Part 7 the introduction of what seems to 
be a new character. Her name is Jill. She is not really a new character 
at all, but is a replacement for the Gillian Anderson character. I have 
done this in order to remove any "real" people from the actual story line 
of the book. Jill Mercer (not that you'll see her last name here) is a 
movie actress who has had a couple of good parts, but whose last movie 
bombed pretty bad, which is why nobody misses her. When I have completed 
CAMP, I will be re-writing the few sections of the book that deal with 
Gillian, to reflect the new character's background. The personality will 
change not at all. I just wanted you to be aware, so you wouldn't be 
confused by the name change.
Net Wolf
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 7: The Psionic War Begins

Chapter 1: An Inauspicious Beginning

Later that night, Ron was going over his plans for the upcoming
battle in Philadelphia. He looked down on the maps and tables that he'd
spread out on his desk. He sighed in resignation, knowing that he could
plan all he wanted, but until he had some experience with how the 
Russians fought en masse, he really didn't have a clue how to position 
his people.

Kimberly had come to the door looking for Ron, and she stood there for a 
moment, just watching him. She saw how his shoulders tensed, how his brow 
furrowed. He's wound up tighter than a clock, she thought to herself. Why 
couldn't I see that before? She continued to watch him for a few moments, 
just observing how he reacted when alone. His mental defenses were down, 
allowing him to rest for the coming war. Others were guarding the house 
now.

When she did finally knock on the doorframe, she saw his body shiver, 
ever so slightly. She had managed to startle him. This was not something 
she was expecting, nor was it something that she had meant, or wanted, to 
do. But it told her a lot about his present state of mind.

Ron looked up, and gestured her in with a slight smile. He continued to 
look down at the map of Philadelphia. She moved across the room silently, 
stepping to his side and briefly looking down at the maps. She saw some 
markings that he had made, but none of it made any sense to her. Her 
experience broke down at this point: she had no familiarity with planning 
such a large confrontation. As a Hunter for the ShadowDragon, she had 
mainly concerned herself with one-on-one battles, seeking out and 
destroying psionics that were deemed dangerous elements by the Dragon's 
Heart. What she saw before her was so much more massive than that, and 
she wondered that anyone could have the skill to prepare a plan for this.

"What do you think?" Ron asked quietly.

"I think... that I am completely out of my depth here," she answered.

Ron chuckled. "So am I." He looked up at her. "Did you need something?"

"I came to tell you that the government is getting very insistent about 
us sending someone to talk to their troops."

"Shit, I'd forgotten. Did they say where they want us to send someone?"

"Washington. They've gathered a good number of people there, for some 
reason or other."

"Probably the crews from the attacks. They'd still be in debriefing. 
Okay, I'll do that tomorrow."

"What about the battle?" she asked, suddenly concerned that he might not 
be there.

"We don't even know if it's going to happen tomorrow. And, if it does 
happen while I'm not there, Lars can handle things." She could see that 
the idea of missing the first battle did not sit well with Ron at all, 
but he was willing to bend to the situation's necessities. Such strength, 
but he is carrying an enormous burden.

"Also, sir, the new uniforms have arrived."

"Good. Have they been distributed yet?"

"Yes, sir, but..."

"But what?"

"There was not one with my name on it." She looked at him, not sure just 
what emotion she felt about this... was it an oversight?

"Oh, that. Well, I thought you'd probably want to wear your traditional 
warrior uniform. I didn't want to show any disrespect..."

"Sir, that uniform is a part of the SkuggDrakarna. I am a member of the 
PPA now."

Ron smiled at her. Thanks for the support, he thought. "Okay, we ordered 
several hundred extras of all sizes. I'm sure one of them will fit you."

"Thank you, sir." She wasn't sure if she should say what she wanted to, 
but she felt that it needed to be said, and she was the only one here. 
"Sir, can I say something?"

Ron looked up at her, giving her his full attention. "Only if it doesn't 
include the word 'sir'," he responded with a grin. "I asked you to call 
me Ron."

She bowed her head sheepishly. "Sorry. I just wanted to say that... 
well... you look very stressed. Perhaps you should take a break, and find 
a way to unwind before tomorrow. You have put a lot of pressure on 
yourself, and that isn't fair to you." She laid her hand very gently 
against his upper arm, doing her best to ignore the tingling feeling it 
gave her just to touch him. "Ron, you've done what you can. You've done 
so much for us. Take some time and do something for yourself."

Ron said nothing for perhaps twenty seconds, and she pulled her hand 
away, fearing she had overstepped her bounds. Then, he looked deep into 
her eyes and said, "Thanks, Kim. I appreciate the thought. And I guess 
you're right; there's not much more I can do with this tonight. Staring 
at it is just giving me a headache." He placed his hand gently against 
her arm now, and gave her a warm smile that melted her insides. "Thanks 
for caring."

As he left the room, leaving her standing there alone with her own 
feelings, she struggled to control her emotions, knowing that it was a 
losing battle, but not wanting to give in. Linda is wrong. This is wrong. 
I cannot love him, it is not right. This is just comradeship for a fellow 
warrior. She kept telling herself that, knowing, even as she repeated it, 
that the words were hollow.

Ron, meanwhile, went searching for a diversion. Most of the members of 
the household were either asleep, or were talking with each other. The 
only one he didn't find right away was Cindy. Curious now, he searched 
the entire house looking for her, and did not find her. He actually began 
to worry about where she might be.

Eventually, he found her out in the garden. It was a private area, not 
open to even the troops staying at the house. Cindy, being a member of 
the family, was allowed free run of the grounds. When he spotted her, she 
was leaning against a tree, her back to him, staring out at the stars and 
the moon. He approached her quietly, not wanting to disturb her solitude. 
As he came, he took note of some things. First, he noted that Cindy 
seemed to be wearing a nightgown out here. The next thing he noticed was 
how that gown flowed against her body, outlining her curves against the 
bright moonlight. Though she was small in stature, she was still 
extremely beautiful. Ron chided himself for not having taken the time to 
be with her already.

Ron moved closer to her, his mind reaching out to her first, so that she 
would not be startled when he touched her. He moved right behind her, and 
leaned against the tree with her, placing one hand on her hip, and gently 
pulling her back into him. She acquiesced immediately, letting her body 
settle back against him, his arm moving around to caress her abdomen as 
he held her against himself. They stayed that way for some time, not 
speaking, just touching.

"Why are you out here in your nightgown?" Ron finally asked.

"I do this sometimes, when I can't sleep. It helps me to feel a little 
less confined if I'm just wearing the gown."

With a mischievous grin, Ron said, "If it's freedom you want, why not go 
naked?" Without allowing her to respond, he used his extension to pull 
the gown up, and then he continued pulling it off her with his hands. 
Once it was off her body, he hung it over a branch, returning his hands 
to her now nude form. She once again sank back into him, hoping for, and
receiving, the warm caress of his hands against her skin. His fingers 
roamed until they began to caress her breasts, dancing lightly across the
hot flesh.

Cindy moaned as the pleasure of Ron's touch electrified her nervous 
system. She laid her head back against his shoulder, enjoying the 
sensations rippling across her body. Ron leaned over and pressed his 
mouth against hers, kissing her hotly. She opened her mouth to admit his 
tongue, which slid across her teeth and along the roof of her mouth. Her 
tongue pressed against his, and the sensuousness of the kiss brought 
another moan to her throat.

Ron's hand slipped off one breast, and moved down across her abdomen. 
Cindy knew what he wanted, and she moved her legs farther apart, allowing 
him access. His hand slipped between her thighs, slipping lightly across 
her pussy lips. His fingers softly brushed those outer lips aside, and 
his middle finger began to stroke against her inner lips.

Cindy was moaning constantly now. She reached up to pull Ron's face 
further down, allowing them more intimate contact. Ron's finger slipped 
slowly into her dripping cunt. He was shocked to find that her barrier 
was still intact. A virgin? At her age? He accepted this, and was even 
more intent on making the experience a pleasant one for her. He began to 
stroke his finger in and out of her more quickly, heightening her 
arousal. He had long passed the point of being ready, but his partner was
not yet there.

While his finger stroked her cunt, his other hand continued to lightly 
massage her breasts, rolling them in his fingers, and brushing over her 
nipples. Soon, Cindy was rocking against him, her passion building to a 
fever pitch. She came against his hand in a powerful orgasm, her scream 
muffled by their kiss. He continued to thrust his finger inside her until 
she had passed her peak. Slowly, he withdrew the digit, as they broke 
their kiss. He offered the finger to Cindy. After a few seconds, she 
tentatively brought her tongue to his finger, tasting her own juices for
the first time. She then sucked his finger clean. He was highly aroused
by this act, and he knew that she was ready now.

Moving quickly, and with the help of his extension, he removed all of his 
clothing. Cindy marveled at the speed with which that happened, wondering 
how he was managing to pull at four different places at once. All of that 
thought came to a halt when she beheld his cock, standing out rigid from 
his body. She longed to touch it, to caress it, to hold it; mostly she 
longed for it to be inside of her.

Ron, finished removing all of his clothing, stepped beside her. Moving 
his hands along her sides, he turned her to face the tree. "Put your 
hands on the tree," he said quietly. She had to lean over slightly to do 
so, and this gave Ron a wonderful view of her round ass, and her sopping 
wet pussy. He told her not to move, and then placed his cock at her
entrance. Before he pressed into her, he reached out with his mind, 
muting any pain she might receive from this first time. Then he pressed 
in, slowly inching his dick further into her hole. In but a few moments, 
he was pressing against her hymen. He pulled ever so slowly back out, 
until just the head of his dick remained, and then pressed back in. 
Slowly he fucked her in this way, preparing her for the thrust to come.

When he felt she was ready, he reinforced his mental block on her, and he 
slammed into her. Her barrier tore with little resistance. With the pain 
muted, she felt the pleasure, and she moaned loudly. The thrust nearly 
buried Ron's dick in her cunt, and he paused momentarily, to make sure 
she was, indeed, all right. Seeing that she was, he began moving inside 
her, pulling out slowly and thrusting back in, until his cock reached 
fully inside of her.

Reaching around her, Ron cupped her tits in his hands, rolling the 
nipples between his fingers. He continued this as he started to slowly
pump her, sliding his full length in and out of her at a slow, but 
constant, pace. Cindy couldn't take very much of this before her mind was
shattered by an overwhelming orgasm. She screamed in pleasure as her body
was wracked by the climax. Ron continued his pace throughout her peak.

Once her orgasm ebbed, Ron increased his pace, moving his hands down to 
her hips to allow him greater leverage. He used his extension to continue 
massaging her breasts, and Cindy was feeling too good to care where the 
extra sensations were coming from.

Ron's pace grew faster, pushing himself closer to orgasm. Cindy's orgasms 
were coming more quickly, so that they were almost continuous. With a 
final flurry of thrusts, Ron rammed his cock deep into her pussy, and he 
flooded her cunt with his cum, grunting out his own orgasm, as the feel 
of his cock spurting inside her sent Cindy off on yet another wild ride 
of ecstasy.

It was several minutes before either of them could catch their breath to 
speak. When it happened, it was Cindy who spoke first. Almost in a 
whisper, she said, "Thank you, Master."

Ron merely kissed her softly on the mouth, before pulling his now soft 
dick from her warm body. They dressed in silence, but Ron pulled her to 
him as they walked back into the house. They slept together that night, 
making love several more times before the night was over.

Ron awoke the next morning to find a soft and curvy body sleeping soundly 
next to him. He wanted nothing more than to lie there with her, warm and 
comfortable in bed. But he didn't have that luxury this day. Today was 
the day that America met the PPA, in its official capacity.

He rose silently from the bed, trying not to wake Cindy, and succeeding. 
Her breathing continued in its regular rhythm. Someone had taken the time 
to lay out his new uniform, and he examined it quickly for lint, 
incorrect creases, or other imperfections. Because of the material,
and the quality of manufacture, none of these things were present. He 
quickly dressed, putting on the uniform, fastening the belt, and then 
shoving his feet into his boots. The quick-lace system on them made it
easy to tie them speedily, and he was soon fully dressed, except for the
two mandatory accessories.

He slipped his aviator sunglasses into his breast pocket, and then he had 
to decide which headgear to wear. Since he was possibly going into 
combat, he decided to wear his baseball cap, rather than the more 
decorative beret. He did pick up the beret, however, and examined the PPA 
logo sewn on its front. It was extremely good craftsmanship. He looked 
himself over in the mirror, making sure everything was in its proper 
place. Then he quietly left the bedroom.

The uniform somehow transformed Ron, and he found himself marching, 
rather than walking normally. It seemed odd that an article of clothing 
could change someone into something else... Until he saw Kimberly.

The PPA uniform was intended to conform to the body, so it wouldn't catch 
on things around the wearer, but Ron had not anticipated what it might 
look like on some of the females in the army. Kimberly snapped to 
attention as he entered the room, and Ron admired how the uniform did 
indeed hug her curves. She saluted him smartly and, though he was 
surprised, he returned the gesture.

"You look very good in that uniform, Kim," Ron said by way of greeting. 
He watched her blush.

"Thank you, sir."

"Have you eaten yet?"

"No sir."

"Join me?" They ate breakfast while discussing plans for how to deploy 
the troops in Philadelphia. Karen and Lars entered the kitchen during 
their discussion, both of them also dressed in official PPA garb. They 
joined the discussion, going over tactics and plans.

As the conversation was wrapping up, Ron looked at his watch. "Shit, I've 
got to get moving. Lars, you're in command. Get everyone up to Philly. If 
I don't make it there, and the battle starts... Good luck."

"Yes, sir," Lars answered, pulling himself to attention and saluting.

Ron returned the gesture, and then he excused himself from the kitchen. 
He wanted to get this meeting with the military over with. He couldn't 
handle the idea of his army starting its first battle without him. My 
army? When did I become Patton?

Commander Bob Maxton was milling around with the rest of his shipmates. 
They had been stuck at this facility for a very long time, and they were 
all tiring of it. The debriefings were becoming intolerably boring. He 
didn't know what the hell his country was waiting for. They had been 
attacked, and it was time to do something.

He found Ensign Rita Connelly standing next to him yet again. She had 
spent a lot of time near him as of late. He knew she was still shaken 
from the death of her captain.

"Why are they keeping us here, sir?"

"I don't know, Ensign."

"When will we get a new boat?"

"I don't know that, either."

"Who's that?" This last question was directed towards a man who had just
entered the room in the company of Admiral Duchain. The man was about 5'
9" tall, with black hair. He was wearing a uniform of some sort, but it
certainly wasn't US military issue. It consisted of a medium-dark gray
jumpsuit, with black cuffs, collar, and belt. The fasteners on the 
jumpsuit were a highly polished silver. He wore standard issue combat 
boots, and a black baseball cap with no insignia on it. His eyes were
hidden behind a pair of aviator-style sunglasses with black lenses and
silver frames. While his uniform bore the American flag in its proper
location, his unit patch was a mystery to Maxton. The room came to
attention as a senior chief called "Admiral on deck!"

"Stand at ease, everyone." As the room slipped into a more relaxed, yet 
fully attentive, posture, the admiral continued. "I know that many of you 
have been questioning why you have been kept here. Many of you have 
submitted transfer requests via the appropriate channels. Today, you find 
out why none of that has been given consideration up to this point. To my 
left is General Ronald Chaffey, commanding officer of the Provisional 
Psionic Army of the United States of America. He will explain to you what
is going on. General?"

Ron stepped forward, still getting used to the title, and more than ever 
feeling the weight of the five stars glistening on each shoulder epaulet. 
He faced before him a crowd of thousands of people. While the admiral had 
used a public address system, Ron refused its use, instead enhancing his 
speech mentally, making sure that everyone heard him clearly.

"Ladies and gentleman of the United States Navy, you are still here 
because you have suffered at the hands of an enemy. This enemy is not, as 
you may believe, the Russian government. Nor is it even the Russian 
people. You have suffered at the hands of an organization within Russia, 
but not sanctioned by her leaders. This organization calls itself the 
Filitov Council. They are the counterpart to the Provisional Psionic 
Army, except that the PPA has the support of its government, and we are
almost certain that the Filitov Council does not.

"You have not been given new assignments in order that we could speak to 
you directly. I know that it might seem unusual for your government not 
to put you back on the front lines immediately, but believe me, the 
attacks you faced in the past were mere warm-up exercises for the 
psionics you faced. No weapon yet produced by mankind can stand against a
strong psionic. At least, none we've found.

"What I am going to do at this time is simply to walk among you. We are 
seeking psionics, both latent and active. If you are a psionic, you 
should step forward now. You have chosen to serve your country, and this 
is the best way you can do so. It is time to put your Ability to use.
Some of you may be psionics, and not know it. We don't really know why
some people develop their Ability sooner in life than others. However, we
do know that there is a good chance that there is at least one psionic in
this room.

"While your Congress has yet to decide, the PPA considers this country to 
be 'at war'. I will behave as if that is true. It would be best if you 
did as well. That is all I have to say at this time. Thank you for your 
time and attention." There were many murmurs among the group.

"Sir, what's he talking about?"

"I think he's one of those people the President told us about a couple 
weeks ago. Shit, I thought it was all bullshit."

Ron took his time wandering through the crowd. Finding a psionic that 
wanted to be hidden was hard, but he didn't really suspect that there 
were any of those in this crowd. But he knew there was a psionic here 
somewhere. He found two weaker psionics before he found the one he was
after.

"Your name?"

"Maxton, Robert L., Commander, USN."

"What, no serial number?" Ron said with a laugh. Commander Maxton turned 
beet red. "Commander, you were second in command to Captain Charles 
Farraday, were you not?"

"Yes, sir, I was."

"You were with him that day."

"I was in the area, sir. I did not see him die."

"No. But he saw you. He gave you something."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Unfortunately, Maxton had 
already figured out that Farraday had been a psionic, and he'd feared 
that the jolt he'd felt that day was some kind of new power in his own 
mind.

"Yes, you do. You don't have the skills to hide it from me, yet. 
Commander, you'll be reassigned to the Psionic Corps."

"No!" Rita cried, unwillingly, and completely outside of protocol. Her 
outburst was so unusual that Ron scanned her quickly. Interesting.

"Ensign Connelly will accompany you as... your assistant." One does not 
question the orders of a superior officer, even if he is from a 
different, and seemingly non-federalized, branch of the military. 
Commander Maxton and Ensign Connelly both snapped to attention and 
replied, "Aye aye, sir!"

As Ron moved along, Rita turned to her superior and asked, "Sir, what's 
he talking about?"

"I'll tell you about it later. Since we're going to be spending a lot of 
time together, I guess we should get to know each other some. Want some 
coffee?"

"Yes, sir."

Ron spent a great deal of time talking to the people in that facility, 
and two others just like it. By the time he had finished, it was well 
into the afternoon. He had to meet briefly with the President, during 
which time he was forced to keep himself from berating the man for his
previous stupidity. By the time that meeting ended, it was a little too
late.

Lars had a hell of a time trying to organize everyone for the move. The 
appearance of the news crew didn't help one bit. She was stopped by one 
of the troops, but her insistence meant that she was brought to Lars.

"Where is General Chaffey?" she insisted.

"He's not here right now. I am..." Lars faltered, very uncomfortable with 
the new protocol he had to learn. "I am Colonel Lars Ohlin, second in 
command." The single eagle on each shoulder proclaimed that as well.

"Look, Colonel, I was assured that I would be allowed access!"

Lars sighed. He didn't need this just now. He looked around briefly, and 
found the person he sought. "Major!" he called. A young woman trotted 
over to him, and saluted properly. "Yes, sir!" she replied.

"Major Heinlein, this is Melissa Conway. She is to be our... 'war 
correspondent'. I am making her your responsibility. If she gets hurt, 
you will answer to the General. Miss Conway, Major Kara Heinlein."

Melissa watched the young girl's face go slightly pale. "Yes, sir!" the 
girl answered. Turning to Melissa, she said, "Follow me, ma'am." Lars 
watched them go before returning to his work, arranging boxes and 
packages for movement. He didn't know what he would need for the battle, 
and so they had to take everything.

A hundred yards away, Melissa was already interviewing her guide. "You 
seem to be afraid of the General. Is he that heavy-handed?"

"I'm not afraid of the General, ma'am. I'm afraid of disappointing him. 
Look, I was trained by a small organization in Wyoming. I heard about Ron 
through a friend of a friend. I've seen what he's capable of. I know he 
doesn't want to be here. Look, he's younger than I am, and yet he's got 
to take on all this responsibility. Why? Because he can, and the rest of 
us... well, we're not up to it without him. Afraid of him, ma'am? No. I'm 
afraid for him."

It was mid-afternoon by the time the teams moved out. There were now more 
than two thousand troops in the PPA, and the numbers continued to grow. 
The plan for this battle called for six hundred of them. Ron had hopes 
that this would be sufficient numbers, but he couldn't commit all his 
troops to a single battle, lest something go horribly wrong. Someone had
to remain behind to continue fighting, just in case.

Melissa and her cameraman were dumbfounded by the trip, which took place
without the benefit of vehicles. Kara was responsible for keeping them
safe, and so she was also responsible for transporting them to the 
target.

"How fast are we traveling?" Melissa shouted unnecessarily.

"Beats me, ma'am. However fast that guy up front goes, that's how fast we 
go."

"Could you please call me Mel?" she asked.

Kara laughed. "Sure thing. Sorry, but this military stuff is really quick 
to become a habit. Everyone calls me Kara." The cameraman introduced 
himself as Rick, but didn't say much on the flight.

"How long to Philadelphia?" Mel asked.

"Plan calls for five hours. We left an hour early, so we should be there 
around seven or so."

"Okay. You getting good footage, Rick?" He nodded, still a little dazed 
at flying a thousand feet above the landscape without the aid of an 
airplane or helicopter.

The flight was boring. The arrival was typical, and their welcome was 
less than warm. Miss Conway's coverage of their journey had been 
broadcast, and there were several groups protesting their presence. Lars 
ignored them as he moved to City Hall, which they had decided would make 
the best command post. The mayor of the city greeted them, and gave them 
free run of the building, but he told them he wasn't about to stick 
around for whatever was coming.

"Smart man," Lars said to Karen, who had remained at his side throughout 
the flight. She nodded in return. He could tell, even without their 
special bond, that she was terrified about what was coming. He grasped 
her hand and squeezed, letting her know that he was there for her. She 
smiled back at him, silently thanking him for the support.

"You might want to stay outside the city proper, Mel. It'll give you 
better angles when the shooting starts, and it will keep you safe."

"Kara, I'm a war reporter. I'm supposed to get shot at!" Kara thought 
that was foolish and asinine behavior, and she could see that Rick wasn't 
too keen on the idea, either. It was not, however, Kara's place to tell 
the lady what to do. She moved them in, setting down on a tall building 
as close to the edge of town as she could.

"This is as far in as you're going, Mel. It's my ass if you get killed in 
the first battle."

"Okay, okay. I guess this'll do."

The troops took very little time to assume their positions, as the battle 
plans called for. Everyone was ready. Now, it was time to wait. It was 
eight PM.

Ron finally wrapped up all of his business in Washington, having placated 
all of the military people and receiving their support for his plans for 
Philadelphia. Not that it mattered, but it was nice to have them behind 
him rather than against him.

They'd found a total of seven psionics among the thirteen thousand 
people. He wondered whether that ratio was normal, high, or low, but had 
no way of knowing. Those people were sent to the Psionic Corps, a new 
branch of the military forming up that would eventually replace the PPA. 
Ron wished they'd hurry up about it, so someone else could be in charge.

Finishing up his final discussion, he left Washington for Philadelphia. 
It would take him a mere thirty minutes to get there. It was eight-thirty 
PM.

<All troops maintain EMCON. Lookouts may use telepathy to communicate, no 
one else.> Lars borrowed one of the phrases he had learned in the last 
month. EMCON, or Emissions Control, normally refers to keeping electronic 
devices on warships turned off. However, it applied well to the idea of 
hiding psionic ability. Kara nodded at the message, but said nothing. Mel 
was standing beside her.

"What are you nodding at?" she asked.

"Huh? Oh, sorry. Just receiving a message from the Colonel. Everything's 
normal so far."

"Oh." Melissa walked off, mumbling to herself about magic. She went to 
help Rick change his camera over to night-vision.

It was eight-forty PM, on July 27. The PPA had been settled in for less 
than an hour. Though they had been warned that they might have to wait 
days for this battle, that was not to be.

The first lookouts to call a warning were on the eastern edge of town. 
Their telepathic calls went out, briefly, and at high power. The Russians 
would certainly know that there were greeters in this city now. It was a 
surprise, however, when the first attack wave came from the south. 
Russian psionics had driven into the city, and had made their first 
assault completely unannounced. A dozen PPA soldiers were down in the 
first seconds of the battle.

Telepathic calls were flying through the mental ether, as soldiers tried 
to coordinate, tried to piece together what was going on. Ron's battle 
plan was good, but he was an inexperienced strategist, and there were 
many holes that hadn't been covered. The Russians used every one of them.

Melissa was directing Rick, making sure they got as much of the action 
around them as they could. Kara stood beside them, frustrated at not 
getting into the battle. She could see the fight going on below her. As 
she watched, a PPA soldier went down. Was he a friend, or a stranger? 
 From here she couldn't tell. She did see the Russian maggot who had 
killed him. She focused her energy, and blasted him with all her might. 
The Russian flew back against a building, and fell to the ground, 
actually leaving an impression in the concrete structure.

Mel gave her a thumbs-up, letting her know they'd gotten the footage. 
Kara could not have cared less.

Kim huddled against a building, waiting for a Russian to show himself. 
She briefly thought, What a way to spend my seventeenth birthday. Then, 
she caught a glimpse of someone about to fire at her. Just in time, she 
rolled out of the way. As the plan called for, she flew down the street, 
heading west. The Russian followed her, right on her tail. She maneuvered 
left and right, dodging parked cars and his shots at her. Where is it, 
where is it... My God, what if I miss it? No, THERE! She turned a corner 
sharply and dodged behind a van.

The Russian turned the corner, and was immediately annihilated by four 
Hunters. The plan had worked flawlessly. Kimberly slumped against the 
van, letting her heart rate drop back below a thousand, or so it felt. 
She had faced her first test, and passed.

Jeffrey stood amidst his small unit, directing them telepathically. He 
felt the tug at his mind that told him someone was trying to sneak up 
behind him. He whirled just in time to avoid the attack, flashing a 
psionic burst back at the enemy, gratified to see him flung to the 
ground, unmoving.

He had no time to rejoice, however, as another attacker came at him out 
of a shadow, and he had to dodge a physical attack. He swung himself 
around, using his extension to continue the man's momentum, slamming him 
head-first into a building, crushing his skull.

Kara could see it all from her perch, and she could see that many people 
were dying below her. There, a small building was crumbling, a psionic 
attack that missed. Over there, all the windows in an office building 
were shattered, from some unknown cause. She was so intent on the battle 
that she almost did not hear the two coming up the other side of the 
building.

Mel's gasp of surprise came just in time, and Kara didn't even bother to 
turn. Her kinetic shield went up around all three of them just in time, 
the attack washing over them. She turned, and Mel could have sworn there 
was fire in her eyes. Her hands stretched forward, her fingers splayed, 
Kara released a ball of venomous energy at the first attacker, burning 
him to cinder as he screamed. She turned on the second attacker, but he 
had already fled down the side of the building. She dropped her shields 
down to their usual level to conserve power, but would remember from now 
on that, unlike the people she was escorting, she was not a spectator to 
this fight.

Lars and Karen were assembled with several others, in the City Hall, 
trying to coordinate the battle. This was turning out to be impossible, 
as none of the soldiers were really familiar with the terrain. Asking 
someone where he is becomes a challenge when all the street signs are 
being knocked over by missed shots.

<<What's going on, Lars?>> Karen asked.

<<Damned if I know, honey. God I wish Ron were here.>>

Ron was well on his way, but was not even in sight of Philadelphia. He 
could, however, feel the pulsing energy coming from the area. He 
endeavored to increase his speed.

Jeffrey was stunned, as he saw more of his men fall. He dodged another 
attack, and returned fire, but yet one more of his men fell from the sky, 
killed by Russian psionic fire. He felt an area of urgency, and raced 
down an alley, over a fence, coming out onto a wide boulevard. He saw 
many shops, and then he saw some teens in black garb running away from 
something, very fast. Two Russians came out of a store front, having 
busted out the glass already. They hadn't yet seen him when he went into 
a crouch and blasted at them. They both rolled out of the way of the 
attack, and fired back. He was almost singed by one of them, but managed 
to roll clear. He was about to fire back when he noticed both Russians 
were being held up off the ground, upside-down, and then they were 
slammed down into the asphalt so hard that their bodies actually 
penetrated. The limp bodies slumped over, still sticking from the 
roadway. He looked up to see two of his friends waving. He saluted back, 
before hustling to find more bastards to kill.

"Rick, this way, this way!" Mel grabbed his shoulder and pointed. Kara 
looked as well, seeing that a larger collection of troops had massed near 
the waterfront. The sickening part is that there were nearly twice as 
many Russians as PPA soldiers in the fight.

<Major battle near Penn's Landing!> she cried out telepathically. She 
could feel the confusion as many soldiers tried to remember what the hell 
Penn's Landing was. Soon, several PPA troops were moving that way, but 
not fast enough, Kara could see. She was, unfortunately, too far away to 
affect the battle. She could but watch as good Americans were fighting, 
and dying, at the hands of barbarians.

My God, how heavily outnumbered are we? she thought, seeing that the men 
at the waterfront were falling rapidly to greater numbers. The battle was 
soon over, all of the men having been killed. She sent out a warning to 
those soldiers heading that way. Many lives were spared because of that 
act, but she would never believe it.

Kimberly was leading her band silently down an alley towards Broad 
Street. As she peeked her head around a corner, she nearly had it blasted 
off by a shot that was not even intended for her. It pulverized the 
corner of the building she was hiding behind, and they had no choice but 
to run out into the street as the building, which had absorbed dozens of 
blows already, collapsed into the alleyway, unable to withstand the 
strain of one more heavy blow. They'd make an effective demolitions team, 
she thought to herself wryly.

She and her team scampered across the street, trying to stay in shadows, 
moving silently, attacking when they saw an opportunity. Everywhere the 
Russians fought in teams of twenty and thirty people, moving swiftly and 
crushing whatever opposition was in their path. They took down two, 
before the rest of that crew saw them, and they had to retreat to safety. 
She'd already lost four men and one girl from her team. The losses hadn't 
sunk in yet, but she was even now starting to feel the grief that would 
only intensify after this night was over.

She cringed as a blast from the sky vaporized the boy standing next to 
her. She flew away from it, not embarrassed to be running for her life. 
She stopped behind a delivery truck, overturned in the street, whether by 
gangs or psionics, she neither knew nor cared. The battle raged around 
her, and she realized that her team had scattered. She was alone.

Lars and Karen had just about given up on trying to hold the battle plan 
together. They were outnumbered, and outmaneuvered. Ron's plan, as good 
as it had been, could not stand up to these numbers. No one had 
anticipated what appeared to be eight hundred to a thousand Russians 
attacking the city. Ron could not be blamed for this.

<<He'll blame himself,>> Karen told her love.

<<Yes, he will. I only hope we're alive to tell him otherwise.>> Just 
then, it was as if a strong wind arose from nowhere. The Russians had 
discovered the headquarters of the PPA's field command. Forty psionics 
were blasting the solid stone structure. The first thing to go was the 
statue of William Penn, perched four stories up. It fell, clanging 
against the building, into the courtyard where they had set up shop. 
Everyone dodged it, as it smashed into the ground. There was no time to 
be concerned for the statue, however, as it was clear that the building 
itself was still being assaulted.

"Get out!" Lars screamed, but it was far too late for that. The central 
tower of the city hall collapsed under the force of the assault, and came 
toppling down on them. The rest of the building soon followed.

Jeffrey was doing well, he had managed to put together a small squad, and 
they had fought well. Their numbers were dwindling slowly, however, and 
now there were but three of them left. They raced down a street littered 
with rubble, from the wrecked buildings on both sides. They were heading 
towards the Schuykill River, where it had been reported that a new large 
battle was going on. Suddenly, from above them and slightly behind, an 
attack came without warning. So much psionic energy was blasting through 
the air that trying to keep track of the surroundings had been reduced to 
visual contact. The two people with Jeffrey were caught by the blast, one 
instantly pulverized, and the other decapitated. He turned and loosed a 
wild blast in the direction of the enemy, but it was easily dodged.

Soon, his attacker was joined by three other psionics. They began a rapid 
fire sequence of assaults on him. He blessed the training Ron had given 
him, as he managed to bat aside most of the attacks, and dodged the rest. 
He even volleyed off a few shots of his own, but they had little effect, 
as he couldn't control them properly under the circumstances.

He knew they were trying to surround him, and he was keeping his back to 
a wall to prevent them from just such a tactic. However, this wasn't a 
minor skirmish, and the rules of war were far different. Seeing what he 
was doing, two of the Russians blasted the wall behind him, causing it to 
cave in. Jeffrey saw it just in time, and almost avoided the collapse. He 
was caught by a mass of flying debris, and was knocked unconscious, half-
buried under a pile of loose brick and stone.

Ron was aware of the fear and the tension. He was almost there. He wanted 
to cry out, Hang on! But he knew the words were meaningless to people 
fighting, and dying, for him. Ron increased his pace, following the 
Delaware river. He was leaving a rooster-tail of wake, even though he was 
thirty feet above the surface of the river. The speed at which he was 
traveling was horridly dangerous, and if he tried to stop too fast, the 
inertial effect alone would kill him. There! The city loomed just ahead. 
Just a couple more minutes...

Kara's hands were balled into fists, her heart pounding in her chest. She 
couldn't stand to watch the battle below her. She knew, even as she 
longed to be down there, that it was quite possible that her current 
assignment had saved her life, at least for one night. She didn't hear 
the new attack.

Suddenly, the building beneath her rumbled, and started tilting 
dangerously. Melissa and Rick were thrown off their feet, and, because 
they were standing right at the edge, off the building. Kara swore as she 
saw them and, regaining her own footing, managed to slip herself off the 
building, flying herself down toward them. She had just managed to get 
them to safety, when an energy blast caught her with a glancing blow. 
That shoved her into the falling building, which she bounced off, and was 
thrown roughly to the ground, twenty feet below. In her semi-conscious 
state, she was able to cushion her landing, but she was still knocked 
cold from the impact.

Melissa and Rick rushed to her side, checking to see that, yes, she was 
breathing. Then they had to worry about how to get out of here, how to 
get help for the lady who had saved their lives more than once that 
night.

"Mel, I don't know about you, but I'm asking for a raise," Rick said, 
doing his best to lighten the mood. Mel laughed softly. Then they dragged 
Kara into a shadowy spot, and hunkered down. The battle was all around 
them now, and Rick was getting great footage, even without the aerie to 
shoot it from.

Kimberly had moved towards the waterfront, not knowing that there were 
roving bands of Russians running up and down the Delaware river banks, 
looking for escaping PPA soldiers. She moved out onto open ground near 
one of the docks, and was spotted almost immediately. The training she'd 
had over the past few weeks paid off, as she immediately dove into the 
river to avoid several blasts that passed well over her head. Soon, the 
enemy was firing into the River, but the darkness, and the lack of 
clarity in the water, made it difficult to hit her. She came up several 
hundred yards downstream, but that was a mistake.

Unknown to her, there was yet another group of psionics here, that was 
also looking for escapees. These Russians saw her, and struck her with a 
blow that shoved her back into the water. She summoned her strength, and 
lunged out of the water, flipping herself over their heads, and landing 
fifty feet from them, to their backs. It didn't take them long to turn 
around, but she took two of them down as they were turning.

Soon it was clear, though, that she had no chance. She started to run, 
only to notice that the two groups had now merged, and her escape route 
was basically cut off. She raised her shields as the blast wave came. Her 
knees buckled, and she fell to the ground, still holding her shields, but 
she could feel them weakening. The energy washing over her was actually 
causing a physical buzz in the air, which is why she didn't hear the roar 
of wind.

Coming up the river, Ron caught sight of the battle. Twenty to one odds 
were something that he didn't want to face. He didn't yet recognize the 
girl, for it was obviously a female, who was stuck in such a trap, but he 
knew she was one of his soldiers.

He had decreased to maneuvering speed, but now he actually sped up 
slightly. As he got closer, he recognized his friend, Kim, as the one 
being threatened. That only made him angrier. He decided that he had to 
act fast, and that it would require a maneuver he had practiced, but had 
never used in combat. He dove for the scene. Some of the Russians did, in 
fact, hear the sound of rushing wind, but it is very hard to react to an 
object moving at over one hundred miles an hour.

Ron flew down and around Kim in a tight circle, halfway between her and 
her attackers. He was spinning so fast that he was but a blur. He trailed 
his mental energy behind him, and, to a psionic, it looked as if a giant 
glowing ring had formed around her. The ring grew brighter in their 
minds. It also appeared to grow larger.

Ron widened his circle with each pass, increasing his speed slightly as 
he did so. His kinetic shield was at maximum strength, and he continued 
pushing outward. The Russians, either disbelieving what they saw or 
simply not able to interpret the threat, stood immobile, watching their
doom coming. The first one that was hit had his head twisted in a full 
circle, while his body stood still. The second one was decapitated before
the first began to fall. Only the last few had a chance to escape, and
they took it, fleeing the angry wrath of what looked to them for all the
world like a hell of a big fairy.

Ron stopped his circling as they retreated, keeping his shields up, but 
not at full strength. He approached Kim, who had not yet looked up, 
fearing for her life. He reached through what was left of her kinetic 
shield, and he realized that he had, in fact, arrived in the very nick of 
time. He pulled her up to her feet, and she embraced him, as a matter of
instinct. She held onto him as a drowning man grasps a lifeline. She wept
against his chest, and he stood there, holding onto his lieutenant-
colonel, letting her release her fear in the only way he knew how.

While he was holding her, he took stock of the battlefield. His mind 
roamed down streets and alleys, taking a look at the devastation. He took 
tally of the number of his people alive and dead. He made his decision 
then.

<PPA! This is your commander. Retreat!> The call went out at full blast, 
and yet Kim didn't even flinch, so deep was the terror she had been 
through. He noted that troops were cut down even as they fled the 
battlefield. He made sure that wounded were collected, but the dead...
would remain in Philadelphia.

His mind wandered to where their command center had been, and he was 
shocked to see a pile of rubble. Gently, he lifted Kim, and flew them 
both to the City Hall. Kim was finally coming to, and she cried out in 
shock and anguish to see what was left of the building. Ron released her 
then, because his hands were beginning to ball into fists, and he didn't 
want to hurt her. It was then that he heard the voices.

They came to his mind, not to his ears. And if they were that faint, they 
were either far away, or very weak. He knew, instinctively, that they 
were coming from beneath that pile of rock.

<Kim, carefully, clear away the building. There are people under there.> 
Together, they worked. It took them twenty minutes to clear away enough 
of the debris. They finally pulled Lars and Karen from a small bubble of 
space, no bigger than the two of them plus a few inches all the way 
around.

"Any others?" Ron had to ask. Karen shook her head and sobbed, as Lars 
continued to explain.

"They took the building down too quickly. When it began to topple... I 
had all I could do to save us. I couldn't save the rest. I am sorry, 
Ron."

"You did what you could. Let's go home."

The Provisional Psionic Army of the United States of America had entered 
Philadelphia with six hundred soldiers. They were leaving with little 
more than three hundred. That there were also two hundred plus dead 
Russians was not a consolation. Many of the remaining three hundred were 
wounded, and would take quite a while to heal. He could see that there 
were even wounded carrying wounded, and that was very unpleasant to 
behold.

The PPA had faced its first trial by fire. The PPA had failed. Ron was 
very quiet on the trip back home.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 2: Trouble is a constant companion

Almost worse than the humiliation and dishonor caused by the
defeat was the interview that Ron had to sit through the next day. He had
promised Melissa that he would make himself available after the battle, 
and he would not go back on his word simply because he'd made an ass of
himself.

"So, General, what went wrong at yesterday's battle?"

"Well, basically, Melissa, I screwed up. I was responsible for 
yesterday's battle plan. I did not foresee some of the tactics that the 
Russians would use against us."

"I see." She had to ask the next question, and she hated it, because she 
had begun to like the man. "How many lives did yesterday's battle cost 
you?"

Ron's face darkened as he fought the emotional content of that question. 
He managed to get it under control without much of an outward display. He 
shifted himself slightly in his chair as he said, "We lost two hundred 
and seventy-seven brave people last night, Melissa."

"What are you going to tell their families?"

"I've already spoken to their families. I told them why the mission was 
important. I told them how their sons and daughters, spouses and parents, 
fought bravely and died for their country. I told them all of the same 
crap that commanding officers have probably been telling families for 
hundreds of years." That he had never expected to have to be the one to 
tell them was not something he wanted to say on the air.

Melissa was glad to have this phase of the interview over. She hadn't 
really wanted to bring it up, but her producer would have had a fit if 
she hadn't. "So, General, where do we go from here?"

"Well, first thing is to learn from last night's mistakes. We'll study 
our battle plan, and see what went wrong, and what went right. Then we'll 
work out new tactics to counter that. It's the way war is waged: you make 
mistakes, you pick up the pieces, and you learn. Unfortunately, in the 
process of learning, some people are, unfortunately, lost to those 
mistakes. I have to live with that now."

"Where do you think the Russians will strike next?"

"We have some information about that, but I can't reveal it here, as that 
would compromise our sources. No city is safe while these bastards are 
running loose in our country."

Melissa continued her interview, moving from question to question, glad 
to have the hard part over, and hoping Ron would understand the necessity 
of having had to ask those questions. She could not know that Ron had 
been asking himself those questions all night long, and would continue to 
ask them for some time to come.

Kimberly, Lars and Karen watched the interview from behind the camera, 
which was set up in the study of Ron's house. Lars watched impassively, 
simply observing the process. Karen was still shocked and saddened by 
last night's events. Both of them took an interest in Kim's reaction to 
the interviewer's questions. When he was asked about casualty numbers, 
and in essence blamed for them, Kim's hands balled into fists so tight 
that her knuckles were white. Her mouth set in a distinctive frown, and 
her eyes intensified to the point of almost glowing.

<Doesn't she know that he couldn't have helped this?> Kim demanded of the 
others.

<She's only doing her job, Kim. As Ron was doing his last night, and is 
continuing to do it now, by answering her questions calmly,> Lars 
answered.

<But, dammit, it's not fair! Ron did everything he could, and...> The 
other two could see she was close to tears on the matter. Karen reached 
over and placed a caring hand on her forearm.

<No, it's not fair, Kim. But this is how life is. Ron understands that. 
He already blames himself for last night. Anything that reporter might 
say will add little to that.>

<But it wasn't his fault!> Kimberly nearly shouted in her thoughts. Lars 
and Karen shared a look, and a thought.

<No, Kimmy, it wasn't his fault. And it is our job to convince him of 
that, and to help him through this. Do you understand?> Kimberly looked 
at him, thinking it through. How can I help him, when I myself still have 
such doubts? We all depended on his strength too much. We pushed him too 
hard.

<This was our fault,> she told Lars and Karen. They simply nodded back at 
her. There was enough blame to go around for this day.

The day's ugliness was not over simply because Melissa and Rick had 
packed their gear. Ron forced himself to visit the injured. To stop and 
speak, however briefly, to each and every last person that had fallen 
last night. He shook his head in disbelief as he looked down at Jeffrey, 
lying in bed, bandaged. He would heal, but it would take time. Even Ron's 
healing energies couldn't correct the myriad of problems around him in 
anything less than several weeks.

"Looks like you zigged when you should have zagged, Jeff," Ron said, 
trying to brighten his friend's mood. Jeff started to laugh, but the pain 
that caused made him cough instead.

"Oh, shit. Yeah... well, I got my bag limit last night, I guess."

"How many?" Ron asked, knowing the man needed a chance to brag, just a 
little.

"I lost count after six, but I think it was around ten or twelve."

"Good work. We figure they lost around two hundred twenty troops. Not 
quite as many as us, but we'll do better next time."

"Hope I'm up for it, sir," Jeffrey answered, trying to lie straighter in 
the bed.

"You just worry about getting healed, Jeff. Take it easy." With that, Ron 
moved on. The hospital staff admired Ron for the effort. Nothing helped 
healing more than knowing that the person you fought for actually gave a 
damn. They could also see the pain that this visit caused their 
commander, and they worried about that. But it wasn't their place to deal 
with it.

It was three days later when the post-action scout arrived at PPA 
headquarters. He was exhausted, bedraggled, and tired, and Ron ordered 
him off to be checked, and to rest. The information could almost 
certainly wait until the next day.

When the man was fully rested, he reported to Ron's office. Kim, Lars, 
Karen, and Shelley were present. Cindy came in with refreshments for 
everyone, and he motioned her to stay. She stood behind him, right next 
to Kim. They both shared a look, and a brief smile, at their similarity 
of position.

"Okay, Tom. Tell us what you saw," Ron ordered.

Sergeant Tom Crystal was twenty-two years old, just out of college with a 
Computer Information Systems degree. His longish blonde hair fell into 
his eyes, and he flipped it back, trying to stand straight, but his 
injuries and his weariness prevented him from doing a proper job. Ron 
motioned him to a chair, and he gratefully slumped into it. His long legs 
stretched out in front of him, and his hands folded in his lap. Everyone 
in the room waited patiently for him to speak.

"Sir, the stuff they did... I'm not even sure if I can describe it out 
loud." Ron looked thoughtful for a moment. He wasn't sure he wanted to do 
what he was thinking about, but it was the best, fastest, and most 
accurate way to get the information.

"Broadcast it to us, then."

"Yes, sir." And so the terror began...

.... He was hiding amid the rubble, trying to keep as much to himself as 
possible. Two Russians had already presumed him dead, and passed him by, 
so he figured his little trick of playing dead, lowering his heart rate 
and stopping his breathing for long periods of time, worked. It allowed 
him to observe the aftermath, without being in too much danger.

What he saw turned his blood cold. They were rounding up the remaining 
citizens of Philadelphia. Most of the people had, intelligently, left the 
city. Many had not. There were people of every age and race and social 
status. They were all being roughly moved to the waterfront. Tom had to 
assume this was simply because there was enough open space there. There 
were several thousand people left in the city.

He had to follow, as that was where all of the Russians were moving, as 
well. He kept to the shadows, masking his psionic powers, not using them 
at all, as he moved silently behind the last Russians, marching east 
towards the Delaware River. He watched as people who slowed too much were 
prodded, and whipped by one psionic's extension. He was driving them like 
cattle towards the slaughter, and Tom only hoped that wasn't what he was 
about to witness.

Once all the people had been driven to the water's edge, she appeared. 
Tom knew her only as Zinaida, as he was not aware of her history with 
Ron. She arrived from the sky, dressed in a black, tight-fitting outfit. 
Her auburn hair rested against her shoulders, and her eyes burned like 
fire. She walked up to the nearest man, a man of importance from the way 
the crowd deferred to him. She spoke to him softly, words that Tom could 
not hear. The man nodded to her politely, deferentially. He sought no 
trouble from her, he was giving her everything she wanted. It mattered 
not at all.

Zinaida's hands flew over the man's body, striking him in a dozen places. 
Even from his post two hundred yards away, Tom could hear the bones 
snapping. The man cried out in agony as he collapsed to the ground. A 
woman, standing next to the man, stood up to Zinaida in defiance. 
Probably his wife, Tom thought. Zinaida stoically absorbed the woman's 
tirade for about ten seconds, then reached over and snapped the woman's 
head around so that she could see behind her, before she fell to the 
ground, dead. Tom nearly gasped, but caught himself. There were three 
guards not ten yards from him, and he would have absolutely no chance of
escape at this juncture.

"Bring it to me!" Zinaida bellowed, and four psionics, low on the totem 
pole to be given such a menial job, carried out an object that Tom did 
not immediately recognize. When he finally realized what it was, his 
blood boiled. Those bastards! The object in question was the Liberty 
Bell, taken from its pavilion across the street from Independence Hall.

Zinaida ran her hands over the metal of the bell, feeling its texture, 
letting her hands trace the words. She read the inscription on the bell, 
and laughed.

"This country will have no liberty! We shall rule with an iron fist!" And 
with that, her energy poured into the bell, and it shattered into dozens 
of pieces, the shrapnel flying into the crowd, killing eight people 
instantly, so strong was the blast.

Zinaida turned to her troops, and, in a very American way, said, "Party 
time!" What followed turned Tom's stomach. The revelry and carousal that 
followed sickened him. The women and men of Philadelphia were being used, 
as if they were nothing more than mere toys for the amusement of the 
Russian soldiers. Soldiers? These aren't soldiers. These are animals!

He saw one man who was using his extension to fuck three women - and one 
man - all at the same time. Others were doing depraved things to small 
children. Most of them were killing their victims when they had finished 
with them. Zinaida sat above it all, watching, but not participating. She 
bore a serene smile on her face, as if it was all a pleasure to her. Tom 
slipped away as quietly as he could...

.... "And that's what happened afterward, sir," Tom said, shuddering at 
the memory of it. Cindy thought she was going to be sick. Kimberly was 
shocked at the depth of their depravity. The rest were likewise upset. 
Ron, however, was pissed.

Shelly managed to ask, "How did you get injured? And what took you three 
days to get back here?"

"On the way back I ran into a small unit of Russians. I managed to dodge 
and hide until they gave up looking for me, but it was a hell of a 
struggle."

As Ron sat subdued, Lars did something he should not have done. He knew 
it at the time, and did it anyway. "You watched all that, and did nothing 
to help those people?"

"What would you have liked me to do, Colonel? It was one on, oh, about 
eight hundred or so!"

Ron let that argument funnel into his consciousness, and his anger grew. 
"Please stop," he said, almost in a whisper. The only people who heard 
him were Kim and Shelly. The argument continued. He repeated himself only 
slightly louder, this time Cindy heard him, and Karen. They all knew 
there was trouble coming, but they couldn't stop these two who had, for 
some completely unknown reason, locked into a terminal battle of words. 
Ron had all he could take.

"Shut the fuck up!" he bellowed. Everyone in the room actually took a 
step backwards as his rage surged over their bodies, actually tangible in 
form. The room was filled with silence, the two arguers ghostly white. "I 
don't need this kind of goddamned bickering in the ranks!" Ron's fury was 
evident, his eyes were wild. "We have enough problems without being at 
each other's throats. Colonel," Ron said vehemently, using the title for 
a reason, "You should fucking well know better! That soldier did exactly 
as he was trained to do. BY YOU! Now, because you don't like the sights 
and sounds of it, you're going to chew him out for it? I don't think so!" 
Tom was not off the hook, however. "And you, Sergeant, should know better 
than to argue with a superior officer, even if he is acting like an ass! 
All of you, out of here, now!"

As Ron slammed himself back into his seat, fuming, the people fairly flew 
from the room, not wanting to be anywhere near that kind of anger. 
Especially when he happened to be right. Tom and Lars spoke briefly to 
each other, apologizing profusely. When they were finished, Karen walked 
up to Lars, her own anger brewing.

<<What in the hell did you think you were doing?>> she demanded.

Lars looked at her with shame on his face. <<I really... don't know what 
came over me. I've never done that to a trooper before. Even Hunters 
who've come back with stories like that... I've never berated them for 
slipping away. I guess... I've never had to see it before, Karen.>>

<<Oh, great. Do you have any idea what just really happened in there? Ron 
didn't need this. Are you out of your fucking mind? Now he has to worry 
about you, too! Look, I love you, and nothing is going to change that, 
but if you don't get your goddamned head screwed on straight, I'll kick 
your fucking ass myself!>> As she stormed away, her fury radiating off in 
all directions, he had no doubt she could do it.

For the next three weeks, Ron and the PPA spent their time planning, 
training, and healing. Not all of their troops were yet up to the tasks 
ahead, some were still in the hospital ward. However, there had been 
several Russian attacks since Philadelphia, and other, smaller psionic 
groups were being wiped out. Ron felt the PPA needed to do something. He 
called together his leaders.

Looking around, he studied each one's eyes. There was Kim, his self-
appointed assistant, looking to him for courage. Lars, his second in 
command, looking to him for leadership. Karen looked to him for strength. 
Maj. Robert Winters, acting in Jeffrey's stead, looked to him for 
guidance. The only eyes he felt comfortable with were those of Lt. Shelly 
Saunders. All she sought from him were instructions.

"Okay, our numbers are nearly at three thousand now, even after the 
battle in Philadelphia." The pause in his speech before he said "battle" 
was barely noticeable anymore. "It's time we spread out, start looking 
for the Russians. We know that they normally travel in smaller groups, 
and then seem to come together for the really big attacks. Philadelphia 
was one of those. Seattle was another, and we missed that one altogether. 
We've got to have better intel." Before the eyes could turn in Robert's 
direction, Ron said, "That's not the fault of Major Winters. His crew is 
doing what they can, but we've got to be out there, not in here. So, here 
is what I want to do. We are going to form up 30 teams, each of one 
hundred person strength. One of those teams will always be here at the 
house as a guard force. The rest, I want roaming the country, looking for 
those bastards."

No one questioned Ron's plan so far. Kim had a question, however. "Ron, 
how do we assign leaders?"

"Go down the ranks. Start with the majors. If that's not enough, promote 
some captains to major rank. The lieutenant colonels will stay here with 
the headquarters unit, analyzing the information. When a major battle is 
coming up, we'll send one or two out to lead the fight. We can win this, 
guys, but we've got to play it smart. My first plan was downright stupid. 
This time, we do it right." The discussion was interrupted by Cindy 
appearing at the door. She stood quietly until she was acknowledged.

"What is it, Cindy?" Ron asked.

"Sir... there are military vehicles pulling up out front."

"Let's have a look." They all went out the front door, to find a large 
number of troop transport trucks lined up down the road. The lead truck 
pulled in the gate, and a military officer, a colonel from his insignia, 
walked up to Ron. The man had graying hair and stood a good four inches 
over Ron's height, and yet he saluted first.

"Sir, the Psionic Corps reporting for duty, sir!"

Ron returned the salute. "At ease. Then you can tell me what the hell 
you're talking about." In response, the man just handed over his 
paperwork. Ron read through it quickly. "Holy fucking shit," he muttered 
under his breath.

"What is it, sir?" Shelly asked, more familiar with all this than anyone 
else.

"We've been federalized. Well, sort of." Ron handed the paperwork to 
Shelly, who started to read through it more slowly, as Ron explained to 
the others. "As I understand those papers, and correct me if I'm wrong, 
Shelly, the government has just chopped this entire group of soldiers to 
our command. We're still not a congressionally sanctioned fighting force, 
but we are being given provisional use of military personnel for the 
duration of the war. Is that about it, Lieutenant?" Ron added her title 
because of the soldier standing there.

"That looks to be it, General. Looks like you did, and didn't, get your 
wish after all."

"Fuck." Ron turned to the colonel, who was obviously waiting for orders. 
"How many men in your detachment, colonel?"

"Two thousand, six hundred and four, sir. These are all of the personnel 
in the Army and Coast Guard that were found to have the Ability, sir."

"Does that include you, colonel?" The man turned beet red.

"Yes, sir."

"Your rating?"

"Sir?"

"Have you had any training in the psionic arts?"

"No, sir."

"Shit. All right, colonel. Assemble your troops, and strip them of their 
rank. I will re-assign you PPA rank over the next few days."

The man blinked, but then snapped to attention. "Yes sir!" he responded, 
with a salute. Ron returned it, and then watched the man return to his 
truck.

"Cindy, I'm going to need you, Megan, and Jill to log these people, the 
same way you've been doing the others. Do not list any kind of rank with 
their name, I don't want to know what they used to be. We'll assign them 
rank according to their skills, not their connections."

"Yes, Master," Cindy replied, and hurried off to do as she was told. Ron 
pulled up short when he realized just how nice it was for someone to call 
him something, anything, other than 'sir'. He shook his head as he moved 
out to what had become the parade ground. In the last week, he had 
purchased the properties all around him, giving the PPA a proper base to 
work from. Already, new buildings were being constructed to house troops. 
They were working at best possible speed, but it would still be a few 
weeks before those buildings were finished. The soldiers would have to 
sleep in tents until then. Ron figured that the Army guys would be used 
to it. The Coasties would just have to suffer through.

The troops were filing through a line where they removed their rank 
insignia and then filed onto the parade ground into formation. As that 
process was proceeding, the former colonel of the US Army approached Ron 
again.

"The men are removing all their insignias. How will you assign new rank, 
sir?"

Well, back to 'sir'. At least Cindy knows I'm really a civilian. Ron 
smirked at his thought before answering. "By skills. What's your name?"

"Mark Titus."

"Your job in the Army?"

"Plans and Operations."

"You were a strategist?"

"Yes, sir. I have a degree from the War College in military strategy."

"You can have your colonelcy back, then. You'll be working here at 
headquarters with me."

"Yes, sir!" Col. Titus barked.

"What about the Air Force, Navy, and Marine Corps psionics?"

"Should be here within the week, sir. I don't have a count on them for 
you."

"Very well." Just then, Ron's three girls came out with clipboards and 
pens. They moved to start interviewing troops. "Hold up, girls." The 
three stopped immediately, and looked to him for guidance. Ron pointed to 
the three biggest guys he could see close at hand. "You three, come 
here." When they did, he continued, "Follow Kim into the house, and bring 
out three tables and some chairs. No point in these girls standing up all 
day."

"Yes, sir!" was the enthusiastic reply from all three of them, and Kim 
led them off into the house.

"Civilians, sir? You have civilians working for you?" the colonel asked.

"They're not civilians, they're part of my family. Keep in mind this 
isn't a US military reservation, this is my goddamned house. This whole 
thing is one big fucking mess. Those girls... will do whatever I ask of 
them." The colonel got the message from that.

"Understood, sir. None of my troops have anyone like that. Is that to be 
encouraged or discouraged?"

"Until they can get back to their own housing, I'd discourage it. We will 
fully train these troops, Colonel. They will be ready before I send them 
into battle."

Just then, a group of psionics returned from a reconnaissance mission. 
Many of the soldiers looked up in awe as they flew down out of the sky to 
land on the parade grounds, and walked over to Ron. Their leader snapped 
to attention, and saluted. The colonel returned the salute before Ron 
did, which amused both Ron and the returning captain immensely.

"Report, John," Ron said.

"Sir, Cheyenne, Wyoming, and the surrounding area is... sir, it's gone. I 
don't mean destroyed, sir. They leveled it down to the ground. Except for 
the pavement, you'd be hard pressed to tell it was just a collection of 
rocks."

"Fuck me!" the colonel blurted. He turned red again. "Begging your 
pardon, General."

"Sounded about right to me, Colonel. Colonel Mark Titus, this is Captain 
John Billford. He's head of one of our recon teams. John, I'm moving you 
up to major. See Lars for your new assignment."

"No more recon duty, sir?" he asked.

"Fuck recon, John. It's time to start kicking ass."

"Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!" John saluted, and trotted off.

"Some of the men are not going to be comfortable serving under these 
civilians, sir." He didn't need to say that he wasn't comfortable taking 
orders from someone who had just turned seventeen.

"There are no civilians here, Colonel, and your troops are the ones who 
are green. Sure, some of them may have fought in war, but nothing like 
what we're facing now. Any discomfort they feel will pass after their 
first battle." Unlike my own, which just keeps getting worse. Ron had not 
wanted this job, he didn't like this job. He wasn't a general, he was a 
high-school student. He wanted to go back to being a high-school student,
but he couldn't make this nightmare go away.

"Yes, sir," the colonel replied.

"Nikki!" Ron hollered, seeing her across the yard. She rushed over to 
him, but forewent the kiss that she normally would have given him, as he 
had 'official' company.

"What's up?" she asked.

"Could you do me a favor and go get these guys some uniforms out of the 
supply shed?"

"Sure thing... how many do I need?

"About three thousand."

She just sort of stared at him for a minute. "Ron, they come like, what? 
Ten or twelve to a box?"

He smiled at her. "What, you don't want to spend all day lugging boxes 
around?" He laughed, his only light moment in days. "Colonel?"

The colonel quickly rounded up a detail to help the girl pick up the 
uniforms. Meanwhile, Ron discreetly gave her a hug and a quick kiss. 
"Take it easy, Nik."

"You got it, Big Brother." She hugged him back, in a more sisterly 
fashion, and led the troops off to get their new uniforms.

<Don't forget the rank insignia, Nikki,> Ron thought to her. She'd grown 
so used to his thoughts entering her head that way, she didn't even slow 
down her pace.

It took the rest of the day to get the new recruits settled into 
position. He had a whole new set of problems to deal with now, and a 
whole new set of egos. There were three colonels and one general in this 
bunch that were extremely unhappy to be busted back to the rank of 
lieutenant, just because their skills weren't up to par. He had four 
latent psionics to worry about, and they were being handled by Lars and 
Karen in a most delicate manner to try to provoke their Ability out into 
the open.

The next day, Ron gave the orders to his experienced troops, who headed 
off to their assigned duties. 2900 psionics departed the base. Ron 
wondered how many would live to return to it.

With the newly acquired military psionics, the base was anything but 
empty. And more troops arrived the following day, the men from the Air
Force. Two days later the Navy and Marine Corps officers joined the PPA.

"Commander Maxton, we meet again."

"Sir!" the man saluted, as did his assistant, Rita Connelly.

"Commander, I'm afraid you won't be commanding anything for a while. You 
need to learn to use your skills. For now, you're just about back to 
midshipman."

"I understand, sir," said the former officer.

"As for you, Miss Connelly, you are afforded civilian status here at the 
PPA base. You may dress in whatever attire Mr. Maxton finds appropriate 
for you."

"Aye, aye, General," the lady replied, with some confusion.

"You were the highest ranking officer in this collection, Mr. Maxton?"

"No, sir. Admiral Hollows is. He is there in the Hummer, sir."

"Any training with his Ability?"

"I don't know, sir." It turned out that Admiral Hollows had not, in fact, 
had any experience with his Ability. Ron found it curious that so many 
people had this thing, without playing with it. He guessed he was just 
more curious... or perhaps he was just hornier, he thought to himself, 
remembering the early days of his Ability. Damn, to be living back in
those days again.

Another two days had all of these troops settled, and their training 
underway. All told, there were over seven thousand military psionics, and 
Ron had to plan for several more buildings. The contractor he had hired 
was pleased to be receiving so much work, at a premium price, but the 
downside was that the timetable on the project was extremely tight.

It was another two weeks before the call came in. Several skirmishes had 
happened between the PPA and what Ron now called FC soldiers. For the 
most part, it had come out a draw, but in a war of this kind, a draw 
meant that the FC was winning.

Then, Ron received notice from one of his groups. Word on the street was 
that people shouldn't be in Los Angeles for the next few days. Ron was 
always amazed how people on the street could find these things out, but 
somehow they managed it.

He called together his planning team. Now, he not only had himself and 
Lars, but two Army colonels, an Air Force major, and a Navy captain to 
help out. They began to plot the defense of Los Angeles. After a marathon 
eight-hour session, they closed the books on their planning. It was now 
time to do something.

The PPA's next trial would be in the City of the Angels. Ron hoped he 
wouldn't become one in the next few days.

Twenty-two hundred soldiers from the Provisional Psionic Army took up 
their posts around Los Angeles. Ron was not to be distracted this time, 
and he was there, beside his team. Actually, it was Kim's team of 
Hunters, but since she always backed him up, it effectively became his 
team. They settled in to their positions to wait.

Out of the blue, he said to her, "You know what doesn't make sense about 
all of this to me?"

"What's that?" Kim inquired.

"There's nobody left here. Well, okay, yeah maybe as many as five or six 
thousand people who are too stupid to run... But no one else is still 
around. What's the point of attacking the city?"

"Perhaps it's not the people they're after," Kim suggested.

"Then what?"

"That... I don't know." She shook her head, not having any answers for 
her boss. She was extremely nervous. She had thought that the bad 
memories of her last battle experience were forgotten. She was wrong. 
They were coming flooding back to her now, and her fear was only
intensifying.

Ron saw it on her face. He gently grabbed her hand and squeezed, briefly, 
and then let go. The look in his eyes told her, You'll do fine. Trust me. 
But she'd already decided that trusting him was the problem: they all 
trusted him too much. And yet... And yet you can't help yourself, can you,
Kimberly? The little voice in her head that loved to punish her said. I 
should not lean so heavily on him! she raged to herself.

Then why don't you stop? the voice said with vicious mirth.

Because I... I... She couldn't make herself say it.

You clung to him like a frightened child after the last battle, the voice 
reminded her.

Yes, I did. But none of this can be. He has no feelings for me, anyway!

Doesn't he? Why did he let you cling to him like that? No one else would 
have.

Of course they would! she snapped back, angry at her own mind for 
tormenting her this way.

Would Lars?

Well... no... but...

But what? But Lars is different? the voice sneered. Yes, he is. You don't 
love Lars.

NO! she snarled to herself, physically turning away from the conversation 
in her head. It didn't stop the little voice from nagging at her anyway, 
but she refused to be taunted by it. Instead she focused on her job, 
checking her surroundings for signs of trouble.

Ron had observed her little interlude, watching her face, wondering what 
was going on in the mind of his subordinate. He wished she would confide 
in him, but she showed no signs of ever doing so. He also wished he knew 
some way to make her forget Philadelphia. So, Chaffey old boy, what have 
you screwed up this time? His own mind played its own game of torture 
with him. This time, however, he'd had real military planning done, and 
he was more confident that the plan would work. With over two thousand 
troops well placed around the city, he felt they had a good handle on 
things.

Over the next two days, the troops settled in to wait for the attack. 
Somehow, they had expected it to come as quickly as the last major battle 
had. Ron wasn't sure whether that was good or bad. He and two of his crew 
were driving around the city, checking in with other units. They were 
keeping psionic emissions to an absolute minimum, in the hopes that the 
Russians would not know how many troops were here.

As they drove along, they spotted a gang of looters. That didn't bother 
Ron: it was only stuff, and that's why stores had insurance. What caught 
his eye were the three women running from the store, being chased by the 
gang members.

"Pull over," Ron said.

"Sir, they're just three-" his lieutenant started to say.

"Pull the fucking truck over!" Ron snarled. The man did as ordered, and 
Ron stepped from the Hummer. The people were all still in range, and he 
reached out a mental control, freezing all of them in their tracks. He 
held them in place as he walked over to them. His boots thumped smartly 
against the concrete as he marched, the stars on his shoulder glistening 
in the afternoon sun. Once in front of them, he released the women first. 
At first, they were afraid he was helping the gang, but then they saw 
that the gang was still frozen.

"Why are you ladies still in town?" Ron asked.

"No way to get out of town," replied one.

"Go get in the truck," Ron ordered softly. The girls quickly complied. At 
that point, Ron released the gang members, who looked him over once, and 
then advanced.

"How moronic would it be to attack a psionic?" he asked. They slowed, but 
did not stop advancing. He decided to make his point a little clearer. He 
lifted their leader up, high over their heads, and threw him across the 
street, through another storefront window. "Now, chances are, he's still 
alive. The next guy, won't be. I repeat, do you really want to do this? 
Get the hell out of the city, while you still can."

The gang members looked from Ron to the store across the street, and back 
to Ron. One by one, they each turned and started running. Gratified, he 
returned to the truck. He looked back at the girls, who were all huddled 
together. "I'll have somebody take you girls out of here, just as soon as 
we're finished with our task. Drive on, Lieutenant."

"Yes, sir," replied the former colonel of the army. The extra shove he 
gave the gas pedal announced his displeasure with his current job of 
driving this kid around town.

Ron returned to his main post at nine that night. He sent the girls east 
in a sturdy vehicle, but with no escort. He didn't figure they'd be in 
any danger, once they were clear of the city. He'd done all he could for 
them.

"I keep coming back to it," he said out loud, but not actually to anyone 
in particular.

Kim asked, "Back to what?"

"Why here? Why now? There's nothing left to gain... this is a dead place. 
The only people here are us, and a few stragglers."

"Maybe it's the city they want."

"But every city they've been to, they've..." Ron's thought trailed off. 
Kim was about to ask him what he was thinking, but then she saw the look 
on his face. It was a look of concentration, a look of thoughtfulness. 
She let him be.

Ron was up the next morning with the sun. He looked down at the sleeping 
form of Kimberly, enjoyed how her hair flowed down her back, and was 
flung over her shoulder as she slept. Her face was peaceful, with even 
the hint of a smile on her lips. She looked like an angel. There are no
angels, Ron, he said to himself. But she does look like a Guardian. He 
chuckled lightly to himself at the thought, fondly remembering his 
friends from the other realm. Then he relieved the guard who was standing 
watch, so that he could now get some rest. Ron took a survey of the city 
around him, and his thoughts started to come together.

What do they want from this place? They can't want to enslave, or even 
kill, the people, because those have been driven off. They can't want the 
materials, or the city itself, because every one of those they have been 
to has been completely wiped out. So, what do they want from Los Angeles? 
His mind wasn't yet ready to take the next step, and he was stymied.

He didn't have very long to dwell on it, as he heard the familiar 
whooshing sound of psionics moving at high speed through the atmosphere.
The sound was similar to that of a jet plane, but without the engine 
noises. For those who hadn't heard it, he sent out a city-wide wakeup 
call. He used a low power, directed signal which he hoped the Russians
wouldn't detect.

The sound grew louder, and then Ron could see them. Kimberly was just 
rising from her sleep, and he not-so-gently pushed her back down to the 
ground as he crouched, keeping his eyes focused on his enemy. They were 
almost a small black cloud, blotting out a small portion of the sky. 
There was no way he could count them all. The sense of a large number of 
troops was there, but there were too many thought patterns to work them 
all out.

"Stay down, all of you," he ordered, not loudly, but in a normal tone of 
voice. "They probably haven't seen us yet, and I'd like to keep it that 
way." The people with him silently acknowledged what he was doing. Ron 
looked left and right, to see that other PPA soldiers were crouching as 
well, hiding behind building parapets and other roof structures. He 
turned back to watch as the Russians came in. They were coming slowly, 
and now they started to fan out. He had expected this part, and so the 
plan was working as expected.

"Kim, check six," he said, slipping into the language of the books he 
used to read, when he'd had time for such luxuries.

"Huh?" she asked.

"Watch our backs," he explained patiently.

"Yes." The nearest Russian to Ron was now still over a mile away. Ron's 
shields were not up yet, as that would highlight his position to anyone 
monitoring psionic activity. He saw a solid knot of people formed at the
center of the group, and he figured that was the command staff. Although
they were much too far away for him to go after now, he would keep his 
eye on them.

Lars and Karen tensed, down at street level. They could see the Russians 
approaching as they looked through an opening in-between buildings. Karen 
grabbed Lars' hand and squeezed. He looked over at her, and their eyes 
said everything.

<<Be careful,>> he said to her.

<<As always,>> she responded. They split, to lead two different groups of 
people. The advantage for them was that their permanent link did not 
register as psionic activity, and so they could communicate between the 
two groups without danger. Karen led her team off to the north. Lars kept 
his team where it was. Their part of the plan was already in motion.

Kara was fuming. Once again, she was stuck with the damned news crew. She 
would have been even more furious if she'd known that they had requested 
her. How in the hell am I supposed to get into the action, if I've got to 
baby-sit these two all the time?

She could see the FC troops rolling in, a black cloud that began to 
spread. Kara was certain that Rick was getting all sorts of great footage 
off of this. The black menace, she thought humorlessly. That's what the 
media will call them.

The PPA tensed, and the FC advanced. They allowed the black-clad troops 
to close to within five hundred yards of their frontline positions. As 
one man, almost, twenty PPA soldiers loosed a controlled burst at their 
nearest targets. Of those twenty targets, sixteen fell to the ground.
Ron's target never made it to the ground, as he evaporated and blew away 
in the wind.

Now, the battle was on. The FC soldiers immediately returned fire for 
their fallen comrades, and the melee began. Ron's position was assaulted 
by no less than ten FC troops, but Ron's shields protected them all. 
During a lull in the firing, the PPA soldiers with Ron slipped off the 
rooftop, and spread out. Kimberly stayed at Ron's side as they moved down 
onto the wide city street in front of their building. The FC troops 
shifted fire, and Ron and Kim maneuvered around it. Ron actually taunted 
them, saying things like, "What, are you blind?" and "We're over here, 
dimwit!" He was trying to goad them into a chase, and he could see it was
working. They began to move slowly down the road, and then picked up
speed.

Ron took the opportunity to look back, and saw that the FC men were, 
indeed, following. Ron and Kim took a separation, acting almost like 
aircraft. Kim remained slightly behind, and slightly below, Ron, watching
out for other enemies. They focused their concentration on what was 
behind them as they let their eyes watch what was in front of them. They 
often had to weave their flight path to avoid psionic fire from behind 
them, watching it blast cars, vans, or the very roadway beneath them 
after it had missed its intended target. The soldiers behind them were 
keeping pace, but were wary enough not to get too close. That was bad.

They were flying over a raised portion of the freeway, and so Ron 
motioned to Kim, and they dove around and under the freeway. They stopped 
quickly, and they were very near a small unit of PPA troops. Ron signaled 
for them to join in, and they did, flying up and over the freeway.

The Russians had already passed by Ron's position, and so the PPA 
soldiers got the drop on them. Ron and Kim fired the first volleys, and
these FC barbarians were soon falling from the sky.

"Good work, Captain," Ron said, and he and Kim moved off, looking for 
another group.

Karen's small band was in trouble, and Lars couldn't get to her. He had 
his hands full with several dozen FC troops pinning his force down. Karen 
and her twenty men and women were flying down streets, ducking around 
corners. The FC forces behind them were blasting away at buildings, 
trying to get at them, but they were managing to stay one step ahead of 
them. She heard a scream behind her, but didn't dare to look; she didn't 
dare slow down or they were all just as dead.

She mentally counted those still with her, and she found she was down to 
twelve. In such a short time, she had lost eight new friends. The thought 
hit her hard, and she almost stumbled in her flying. She righted herself 
quickly, and refocused on the task at hand: survival. She dodged around 
yet another corner.

Lars' men were holding their own, but it was a tough battle. Once again, 
he found himself outnumbered. He felt the presence of a PPA group not too 
far from him, and he called them for help. The FC troops were not 
expecting the second attack, and were caught off guard by the first wave. 
However, the second group was smaller than Lars' group, and so it was 
still not an even fight. The two PPA groups worked from different 
directions, hoping to catch the Russians in the crossfire. So far, they 
seemed to be doing all right.

It was then that Lars felt a searing pain across his arm. It spun him 
around so that he saw... her behind him. It was Zinaida! He fired wildly 
back at her, but her minions blocked his attack. His response was 
automatic: with that kind of firepower, he had only one choice.

<Run!> he shouted telepathically. His troops scattered, and the FC moved 
to cut them off. Several of Lars' men were cut down trying to escape, but 
most made it out of the area. Lars was chased by two men, but he crushed 
one under a falling light pole, and the other he smashed through a 
building. Having cleared his own trail, he had something else to worry 
about.

<<Where are you, sweetheart?>>

<<Damned if I know!>> Karen responded. She sent him a mental picture of 
the area. The FC troops were closing in on her, and she could feel them 
surrounding the area. She told her group to drop to the ground, to seek 
out hiding places inside buildings or in dark corners, hoping to hold out 
until help arrived. The crew scattered.

Karen picked a high post in a nearly destroyed office building, watching 
for the Russians to sweep through the area. She was not prepared for how 
they would handle such a task.

The Russian troopers began leveling buildings, one at a time. Karen 
stared in shock and dismay as she watched buildings she knew had friends 
in them come toppling to the ground. This is insane! she thought. As the 
FC moved closer, she scampered to the ground floor of this building, 
planning to slip out of it as they knocked it down. She watched them 
advance toward her, and she nearly cried out in the frustration of it. 
She was outnumbered, there was no way to fight back. The surgical strike 
they had planned came apart when the Russians had failed to act as 
expected.

The impacts came to her building. She moved for the door... but the door 
was no longer there. She was trapped inside the building! Oh, God, no. 
Not this again. She blasted a hole through the side of the building. She 
saw one FC soldier on the street, perhaps waiting for someone to do just 
what she was doing. She fired a laser-like blast, severing his head 
neatly from his body, and he fell to the ground. She climbed out of the 
hole she had made, and raced as fast as she could down the street, moving 
sideways relative to the FC forces hunting her. She wiped away tears for 
the friends who were obviously dead.

<<Where are you, Lars? I'm coming to you.>>

<<Meet me at Parker Center,>> he called back. As the main police 
headquarters, it was a building easily recognizable. They met up there 
after several minutes, and embraced. Lars had managed to gather several 
dozen troops together, realizing that only a larger force was going to be
able to stand against this enemy.

Ron and Kim wove their way around the bigger groups of Russians. They 
would leave those to the bigger teams. They found a small knot of twelve 
or thirteen, and began their attack. They took out two before the team 
returned fire, and the chase was on again. This tactic seemed to be 
working for them.

But this time it backfired. They were met face to face with the command 
staff of the FC. Immediately they were under fire from two directions. 
They maneuvered frantically around the fire. It was then that Ron got his 
first eye-to-eye look at Zinaida Dostoyeva. Bitch, he thought. And to 
think that I once trusted you! He sent a searing blast of energy at her, 
fast enough to catch her slightly off balance. He seared her arm, and the 
ball blasted straight through one of her bodyguards. He fell to the 
ground, screaming in agony, his heart having been cut from his chest.

Zinaida looked at him with ferocity in her eyes. <You will pay for this, 
'General'!> she mocked his title. Ron knew it was time for them to run. 
He looked around, and spotted a path much harder for a large group to 
take. They dove for the MetroRail entrance, and were soon underground. He 
could hear the fire raining down on the ground above them, but they flew 
as fast as they could down a train tunnel, until they were in a different 
part of the city. They emerged cautiously from the tunnel, and found that 
they were back in the heart of Los Angeles... or what was left of it.

Kara, alone on her perch, watched in fury. It was impossible for her to 
tell who was winning this battle. She could only see the battles close 
around her. This also frustrated Mel and Rick. "Can't you get us in 
closer, Kara?" Melissa whined.

Kara, upset at the prospect of missing yet another battle, unwisely 
agreed. "Okay, let's go," she said, and, without warning, lifted them off 
the roof and began to fly them into the middle of the war.

Ron was about to find Lars and Karen, when suddenly he felt a strange tug 
at his mind. He looked to Kim, but she apparently felt nothing. The tug 
became a continuous pull: it was the feel of a person in dire danger. He 
could almost sense that this person was crying out for help. "Come on," 
he said to Kim, grabbing her hand, and heading southwest. The troubled 
person was at the airport, and that was where Ron was going.

They flew at high speed towards Los Angeles International Airport, and 
Ron could see that there was, indeed, a problem here. He tensed for the 
fight.

Kara had moved the group towards the center of the fighting. She noticed 
a tall, familiar-looking building where several psionics were standing. 
It took a while to remember the building from the old Dragnet episodes. 
She set her charges down on a stable pile of rubble that used to be an 
office building, and they hunkered down to keep an eye on things. Rick 
had his camera out and rolling, as usual.

The FC formed up in a large group, and descended on the Parker Center 
complex. Lars called in the PPA soldiers, and it appeared as if this 
would be a deciding battle. Karen briefly wondered where Ron was.

Ron was just then landing at the airport. He and Kim moved quickly. The 
Russians had spread themselves very thin, destroying everything in sight. 
Airplanes were burning on the runways, which had been completely torn 
from the ground. Buildings were crumbling and wrecked. Vehicles were 
overturned, and dead bodies lay everywhere. Kim gasped at the sight, and 
then coughed from the smoke, and the smells.

They moved quietly through the debris, killing any FC soldier they could, 
and moving around knots of people too big to fight. Ron was looking for 
something, Kim knew, but he hadn't bothered to tell her what. They moved 
around one more destroyed building, and there they found what they had 
been looking for.

Susan and her group had been running for days. The Russians had dogged 
their every move. They were tired, they were bruised, and they were 
losing. She'd lost three people already. She feared that they were 
following her into death. She had been looking for Ron Chaffey for months 
now, not even really knowing where he lived. The war had come as a rude 
surprise to her and her group, and they had suffered mightily at the 
hands of the Russians, and other unfriendly psionic groups.

The Russians had chased her to the airport, and here they knew there was 
no place to run. The ocean to the west, a destroyed and burning city to 
the east, soldiers all around them. They cringed behind a destroyed 
shack, and waited for the soldiers to come.

The Russians attacked in force, twelve soldiers going after the five 
remaining in Susan's party. Susan's team fired back, but their fighting 
skills were just not up to the task. The Russians shooed the attacks away 
like fireflies. They were getting closer. Susan looked around for a place 
to escape, and saw nothing. Tim was seated next to her, resting against 
the wall. He said, "Where's the PPA when you need 'em, huh?"

Susan looked at him in irritation. They'd heard of the PPA, of course, 
through news broadcasts and the psionic community. "I don't want to hear 
that kind of crap just now, okay? We've got to find a way out of this!"

The Russians were now only thirty feet away. When the first one fell, it 
shocked both sides. When the next fell right beside him, the Russian 
forces stopped their advance. They were not prepared for strong 
resistance. When two PPA soldiers, dressed in their dark gray battle 
gear, came diving out of the sun, they were completely unprepared for it. 
Six more of them were down, and the remaining troops scattered as leaves 
before a wind.

The PPA soldiers circled round, and landed behind Susan and her small 
group. Tim looked up, astonished. "You guys... you're with the PPA!"

"That's right," the man said. "Someone call for help?"

"I did," replied Susan, "But I didn't really expect an answer. Who the 
hell are you, anyway?"

Ron reached down to help Susan to her feet. "I'm General Ron Chaffey, 
commanding officer of the PPA." Susan was so relieved that she hugged him 
tightly. Ron tolerated it for a few seconds, and then extricated himself 
from her embrace. "We've got to get you out of here."

On their flight back toward Los Angeles proper, Kim thought over the past 
few minutes. See? the little voice cried, He didn't let this Susan cry on 
his shoulder!

Shut up! she told her mind. But her thoughts continued to follow this 
path, as if some force were pushing her, even though she knew it was
only her own... what? Desire? Need? What did she feel for Ron?

Ron led the small band he had rescued to a safe hiding place, near the 
subway entrance. He told them to remain there, and that he would return 
for them. He motioned Kim to follow, and he took off for the battle at 
Parker Center.

Lars had led a good fight. The Russians had swarmed the place, and the 
chaos that followed meant that no one knew who was winning. Russians and 
PPA troops were falling everywhere. It was total pandemonium. Lars flung 
one Russian into a building, only to be singed by another Russian's blast 
of energy. Where the hell is Ron?

Ron was mere seconds from the battlefield. He and Kim landed on the 
outskirts of the battle, and waded in. Ron was using physical attacks, 
augmenting his strength with his extension. He tackled one Russian, 
swinging over him and snapping his neck. Ron let go as the body fell, and 
flipped himself upright, snapping a side kick to another FC soldier who 
wasn't paying enough attention. That man went flying into a nearby car,
implanting himself in the metal framework.

Kim, meanwhile, was using her extension to cause flashes in people's 
vision, distracting them and then lancing in with a mental attack, 
completely blocking their ability to move. She held them like that, and 
finished them off with a martial arts move. One, she broke the neck. 
Another had his spine fractured, and then she crushed the skull of a 
woman who had just killed a PPA soldier. Kim could feel her warrior 
instincts welling up inside her, and she reveled in them, wading further 
into this battle.

Just then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a Russian behind Ron, 
about to blast him with a mental bolt. She lashed her extension out at 
him, using it like a whip, catching him around the throat and squeezing. 
She never heard the battle cry that rose out of her throat as the man's 
head was literally squeezed off of his neck, effectively ending his life.

Ron, who had heard her cry, turned to look, and, realizing she had just 
saved his ass, shot her a quick salute. She bowed her head slightly in 
response before returning to kill more soldiers. Soldiers? No, these are 
animals, not soldiers!

Lars and Karen fought side by side, taking down FC troops left and right. 
Lars saw the movement before Karen did, and he knew she could not get out 
of the way in time. He dove in front of her, raising his shields to the 
maximum. He absorbed the impact of the blast, felt it wash over him. His 
shields were not strong enough to stop the blast, and he felt it 
penetrate. His body was wracked with pain, and he fell to the ground, 
nearly unconscious.

Karen knelt beside him momentarily. She knew he was still alive, and the 
rage within her boiled to the surface. Her body fairly glowed with the 
energy she felt, and she released it in a bolt of energy so intense it 
was fully visible, lancing through their attacker. He had no chance to 
escape her vicious attack, and he was dead before his body parts ever hit
the ground.

Karen did not watch him die. She found another Russian, and blasted a 
hole in him so large it appeared as if he had been shot with a cannon. 
She found another, and another, venting her rage. By the time she had 
calmed down at all, a dozen FC troops lay on the ground from her attack. 
She was drained, and dizzy. She again knelt at Lars' side.

"Remind me," he said to her, almost in a whisper, "Not to get on your bad 
side ever again." She laughed, and cried at the same time, hugging him to 
her.

Ron and Kim met up again, having waded into the center of the battle. 
There they saw Karen and Lars. They rushed over, and found Lars was very 
weak, Karen exhausted. That's when the ground started rumbling.

Ron and Kim looked up. The buildings all around were shaking. Earthquake? 
Ron thought. Now? But it wasn't an earthquake. Not a natural one, anyway. 
The FC soldiers had withdrawn quickly, as the buildings started to 
crumble. The Russians were once again knocking over buildings, in an 
attempt to crush the PPA soldiers beneath the sheer weight of the stone 
and metal and glass.

<PPA! Move out!> Ron shouted in his mind. He grabbed Lars, and Kim 
grabbed Karen, and they flew out as fast as they possibly could.

Kara was much too close to the battle, she knew, and so were her charges. 
She lifted them up to move them away, and in doing so was distracted from 
the falling rubble around her. She was hit on the shoulder by a large 
chunk of flying debris. She was tossed to the ground, and her shoulder 
was on fire. She did manage to put up a shield around herself and the 
news crew, bringing them over to her. They rested a moment, and then 
began to move out, with the rest of the PPA.

Ron and Kim returned to the place they had left Susan. Ron set Lars down, 
so that he could rest. Karen was gaining her strength back, but was still 
not ready to fly. Without being bidden, Susan looked Lars over. She 
rested her hands against his wound. Karen kept a very close eye on the 
woman, worried for her boyfriend. Susan's strength flowed through Lars, 
helping him to heal. She felt as though he were actually drawing power 
from her. His eyes fluttered, and he was waking... but the power drain 
continued, and it was as if she felt herself getting weaker. She quickly 
drew her hands away, as he sat up and shook his head to clear the 
cobwebs. He looked at her. He had expected it to be Karen, but he 
realized she was still too weak.

"Sorry about that," he said. "You have to be careful around me... 
sometimes I can draw the psionic strength right out of a person. Don't 
worry, you'll regain it in less than a day. I didn't mean to do it... 
it's hard to control when I'm not fully aware of it."

Susan nodded. Ron had watched with mild interest, but he was more curious 
about who his new guests were. "Who are you, anyway?" he asked.

"Susan Chandler. I've been looking for you for months. I was hoping to 
get your help... but then this whole thing blew up in my face. I guess 
you don't have time for a little problem like the one I was facing."

"Not really. Can we take you back anyplace? We're heading home now... 
this battle's a bust, just like the last one." Kim saw the anger in
his face, and heard the hurt in his voice.

"I don't know what we're going to do. We can't survive in this 
environment. Those Russians were hunting us. If we go back out there,
we'll be killed."

"What training have you had?" he asked.

"No 'formal' training. Some friends," and she gestured to those around 
her, "taught me how to heal people. I know some simple physical moves, 
but not much else."

"Okay. We'll take you back home then. At least there you can be trained. 
After that, you decide what you want to do."

"Thank you."

"We need to get out of here. The Russians will be looking for stragglers. 
You strong enough to fly out of here, Lars?"

"Not yet, boss," he responded, the discomfort clear in his voice.

"All right, then. Let's not struggle too much, okay?" Ron hefted four of 
them, and Kim took the other three, and they flew east, away from the 
city. When they had reached the outskirts, they stopped and looked back. 
Ron's face grew dark with anger as he saw the remains of Los Angeles. It 
was too sprawling a city to be totally wiped out, but the city proper was 
completely unusable now.

"My God," Susan said. "What's the point of it all?"

"I think we're looking at it," Kim answered. "I think they just want to 
destroy everything." Ron kept his thoughts to himself. He was beginning 
to understand the truth, and Kim wasn't quite right.

"Let's go home," he said, and they turned and flew off, not sure whether 
this fight had been a loss or not. Either way, the city was left to the 
Filitov Council. Another failure, Ron thought. Even with military 
planning. What the hell are we doing wrong?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 3: Chasing Wild Geese

Ron tossed and turned in his bed, alone that night as he had been
for a long time. He couldn't get past the events of the last months, and
the dreams...

.... They were in Miami. The city was being destroyed. People had not 
listened to their warning, and so the city was still heavily populated 
when the Russians attacked. Although the sides were evenly matched, the 
Russians were playing by a far looser set of rules. The civilian 
population was used as ammunition by the FC, hurtling them at PPA troops. 
As the Americans tried to save the lives of the civilians, they had lost 
their own, in turn killing the civilian anyway.

The battle was well underway, and that was when Ron made his mistake. 
Twenty or so Russians pushed over a giant office building, loaded with 
panicking people. Ron tried to stop the building from falling. It was a 
foolish effort; there was no way he could have held the building upright. 
Seeing his dilemma, Kim had come to aid him. In the struggle of forces 
trying to hold the structure together versus those trying to topple it, 
the building had simply disintegrated. It was not built to withstand such 
pressures. It toppled in their direction, and he'd had all he could do to 
save his own skin. He saw her falling, being buried under a huge pile of 
debris...

"NO!" he screamed, bolting upright in bed. His heart was racing, his skin 
covered in a cold sweat. His breath came in heaving gasps. His eyes 
scanned the darkness for any sign of an enemy, before he remembered his 
dream.

And then he wished he could forget. It had been over three months since 
the battle in Los Angeles, during which time several major battles had 
been fought, and lost. The city of Miami had fallen, literally, to the 
Russians only two weeks ago.

He had searched that pile of rubble for three solid hours, fearing what 
he would find left of his assistant's - his friend's - body. He continued 
looking out of an unknown sense of duty. He would not leave her behind.

When he did finally recover her, he was amazed to find her still alive, 
but barely. With the battle still raging around him, he carried her, 
walking, to the aid station that Susan Chandler had established. He fed 
her as much of his own strength as he could, trying to heal her, but his 
skills at this were not up to the damage that had been done.

By my own hands. It was the thought that had run through his head then, 
and every night since. He had relived that battle time and time again, 
and it always ended the same way, the way he remembered it. He dressed 
and left his room, silent and brooding. Except for the guards, no one was 
awake at this hour. He moved stealthily through the house, not wishing to 
awaken anyone. He slipped into the night, the cold air slapping him in 
the face. He shivered, but moved on, towards the medical facility they 
had established.

It gave him some comfort to know that, in saving Susan's life, and in 
training her, he had helped his cause immensely. Her medical healing 
skills were some of the best he had ever seen, and Karen had filled in 
the gaps in her knowledge. Karen had also removed herself from the 
battlefield, realizing that she should have been doing what Susan was now 
in charge of.

He entered the medical facility, with its white walls and its bright 
fluorescent lights. His skin looked sallow and sickly, for he had not 
slept well in a very long time. The staff took note of his presence but, 
knowing why he was here, made no attempt to speak with him. He moved, 
almost in a daze, to her room, opening the door silently, and walking in.

He looked at her, and only because he had seen her before was he able to 
hold in his gasp of dismay at her appearance. Her face was bandaged, but 
the skin that was visible was now an ugly yellowish color, having faded 
from the deep purple of her original bruises. Her body was bandaged, as 
her bones healed. The process was certainly much faster than conventional 
healing, but, as Susan herself had told him, conventional medicine could 
not have saved Kim. The head injury and the internal bleeding had been 
far too severe for that. Susan had also told Ron that his initial aid to 
her had certainly saved her life, but he knew that was something that 
doctors just had to say. After all, it had been him who had nearly killed 
her in the first place.

He sat down beside her bed, and watched her breathing. There were a few 
monitors in place, along with a simple IV to help feed her. She had woken 
up only twice, the nurses had told him, and in both cases had faded back 
out without so much as a word. She was completely unresponsive to any 
stimulus that they had tried, including direct mental probing. There was 
a strong, dark barrier that held them out. Although Susan had never dealt 
with a comatose patient before, she felt that this condition might be a 
normal part of the coma for a psionic.

Ron looked at her for a very long time before he moved. When he did move, 
he reached over to gently take her hand. Her hand was warm but limp in 
his, and he then leaned over toward her. He whispered in her ear, in a 
tone that carried more grief than he could have imagined feeling for a 
living person, "I'm sorry."

He managed not to faint when her hand slowly grasped his. Though her eyes 
didn't even flutter, and her monitors all remained unchanged, in his 
mind, he heard, <I know.>

Ron held her hand gently as he leaned back in his own chair. The doctor 
on duty found them that way two hours later when he made his rounds. He 
decided not to disturb them.

When Ron finally awoke that day, he found himself holding hands with a 
conscious individual. He looked over and tried to smile at her. It was a 
vain attempt, but even the gesture made her feel better.

"Hi," he said.

<How long have you been here?> she asked.

<About ten hours,> he answered, after checking his watch.

<How long have I been here?> she asked with a little worry in her voice.

<Thirteen days. Can you speak?>

<I tried making some noise a while ago. It hurt too damned much
to talk.>

At the first hint that she was still in pain, tears welled up in Ron's 
eyes. <God, Kim, I'm sorry. This is my fault. I should never have 
tried...> He stopped as she squeezed his hand as tightly as she could. He 
punished himself for the weakness of her grip.

<I know. You didn't intend for anyone to die. You didn't mean for me to 
get hurt. Shit happens. Tell me the truth, am I going to be all right?>

<Susan thinks so. But you've got a ways to go, yet. At least you're awake 
now. Thank God for that. I thought I'd lost you back there.>

Kim felt her heart lurch when he said that. 'I thought I'd lost you. Not 
we, but I. Perhaps he does care for me. Kimberly had had the unpleasant 
experience of reliving her own mistakes in life during her coma, and she 
had come to the conclusion that perhaps she had made a mistake in her 
choice of lifestyle. The man before her was so obviously concerned for 
her wellbeing that she could deny it no longer. And yet...

What if I'm wrong now? And so she said nothing. At that time, they were 
interrupted by the doctor, who came in to see a very awake patient. He 
was so surprised that he actually dropped his clipboard. His mouth hung 
open in an expression of total amazement. Finally, he regained his 
composure, and left the room to find Susan.

Ron remained at Kim's side throughout the following two hours of 
procedures. He didn't know why he couldn't leave; he had work to do, 
after all. Something in him compelled him to remain by her side until he 
knew the results of the tests. He also felt that Kim might need someone 
there in case the news was not good.

Susan dismissed the nurses, and pulled up a chair next to Ron. He didn't 
entirely understand why she had not asked him to leave throughout the 
ordeal. She had simply moved around him when necessary, not even once 
asking him to move out of the way. The look on her face was unreadable, 
and he wasn't sure he wanted to hear what she had to say. He had the 
sudden urge to run from the room just as fast as he could, but he was 
effectively blocked in.

"Kimberly," the doctor began, "I'm glad to see you're awake now. We were 
beginning to worry that you would never come out. Now, my experience with 
coma is... well, I won't lie, it's nonexistent. The regular docs on staff 
tell me that the longer you were under, the less likely you were going to 
recover fully.

"Now, I know you want to know the results of our tests. All of our 
findings look good. Your body is healing rapidly, but this has some 
rather unpleasant side effects. Because of the rapid regeneration, you 
are going to be very uncomfortable for a while. We will give you pain
medication to ameliorate this. That will last for at least the next week
to ten days."

"Doc," Kim asked, "When the hell am I getting out of here?"

"Well, that is partially up to you. As you regain your strength, you 
should be able to use some of your own ability to heal yourself a little 
more quickly. After all, as good as I am, you're the only one who knows 
ALL the places that need fixing. The other thing is that you've been 
laying in this bed now for two weeks, and will continue to do so for at 
least one more. That's three weeks off your feet, and you're going to 
need to get your physical body back into shape, too."

"Can't I do that from across the parking lot?" She was referring to the 
house where she had been staying.

"I suppose so, if someone will keep an eye on you, so you don't overexert 
yourself." She eyed Ron with meaning.

"I can assure you that she would be looked after," Ron said. If I have to 
follow her around myself, his mind added before he could stop it.

"Very well, then. As soon as you can move around at all, we'll let you 
back over there. But you are not to go into battle until I say so. Is 
that clear?"" Her voice had taken on a stern, 'I'm a doctor, and you'd 
best listen' tone.

"Yes, ma'am," replied Kim weakly. As she faded out from the exertion of 
the afternoon, Susan motioned Ron to the hallway.

They walked down the hallway as they talked. "Ron, she's in pretty bad 
shape. She is, right now, in the same condition as the worst of our other 
patients. Each of them has taken three weeks to leave here. I worry that 
we may be pushing it to let her out in one week."

"Susan, I promise you, on my honor, that she won't be going into any kind 
of battle until you say it's okay. The girls can watch over her 24/7 if 
need be, and, let's face it: you need the room."

Susan sighed. "True enough. Okay, but I still don't like it. I don't like 
patients leaving until they're well."

"I'd prefer you didn't have any patients at all," Ron said morosely. "We 
don't always get what we want." He left the hospital then, to go to work.

For the next week, Ron made sure he spent at least an hour or two every 
day with Kim in the hospital, talking, helping her with her exercises, 
hoping to cheer her up a little. He was more successful in this last 
endeavor than he would ever know.

When the day finally came for her to be released, Susan and the staff 
nurses and doctors who had worked with her lined up to applaud her as she 
walked, albeit badly and leaning on Ron for most of her support, down the 
hall to the exit. Susan waited at the door.

"I don't think you have the strength to walk all the way to the house, 
Kimberly. Perhaps we should call over a jeep."

"You keep thinking in normal terms, Susan. You should remember we're 
psionics. I'll get her over to the house, don't you worry," Ron 
responded. Kim looked at him with the newfound love she had allowed to 
blossom over the last week. Now, it was only necessary for her to find 
the courage to tell him about it. That would be much more difficult than 
she anticipated.

Ron led her through the doors, where they paused to absorb the warm 
sunshine. She looked down as she felt the ground fall away. Ron had 
lifted her, and she relaxed into the sensation of being carried in his 
psionic powers. Oh, how she would rather he had carried her in his arms, 
but to a psionic, this was nearly the same thing.

 From across the lawn, the family watched them approaching. "She sure 
looks happy for a sick girl," noticed Nikki.

"She's in love," answered Linda.

"Have you noticed how much time Ron has been spending with her lately?" 
Sandra asked Linda.

"Perhaps it's just guilt," Lars said. He had an annoying habit of saying 
the wrong thing at the wrong time. Karen slugged him, rather hard, 
everyone else thought, for it.

"Damn you, Lars Ohlin, don't you have any caring for anyone?"

"Only you, love. Only you." He reached down and kissed her by way of 
apology. She allowed it, but was still a little miffed at his attitude.

"Mom," Nikki said, "Are you saying that Ron loves Kim?"

"Well, Sweetheart," Sandra answered carefully, "I think he does, and 
Linda thinks he does, but I'm not sure if Ron knows he does yet. So be
careful what you say. Love is a very tender thing," Sandra concluded, 
staring at Lars. He raised his hands in a sign of surrender, and kept his
mouth shut.

Nikki looked more closely at Kim just then, studying her face, her 
posture, her mood. Then she looked to her brother, and what she saw 
there... Nikki nodded her head to her mother, and then she slipped away, 
going back into the house.

Ron settled into a routine for the next two weeks: in the mornings, he 
would receive his briefings about how the battles had gone the previous 
day. Under the advice of his staff, he was not going into the field 
anymore. They had suggested that his place was to command, and not to 
lead. He felt that this was somehow inappropriate, but he went along with 
it, figuring they knew better than he did how to run a war.

In the afternoon, he would spend his time helping Kim regain her strength 
and flexibility. For the first few days, it was simple walking. Once she 
felt strong enough from that, they moved on to some basic martial arts 
and weapons moves. These things were all familiar to Kimberly, but her 
body rebelled at being forced to do them after such abuse. She was 
extremely sore the first day they tried this, but a warm massage from 
Megan eased many of those pains. While she lay there, she longed for the 
hands on her body to be Ron's, but she had not yet gotten up the courage 
to say anything to him. What if I never do? I will live the rest of my 
life without him! That thought scared her so badly she shivered.

When Megan finished up the rubdown, she left, to be replaced by another 
female of the house, who wrapped a robe around Kim's shoulders before she 
sat up. As she did rise, she saw that it was Nikki, Ron's younger sister, 
who had come to visit her.

"Hello, Nikki," Kimberly said properly.

Nikki said, "I'm jealous of you."

Kim was taken aback. So much so that she moved slightly away from the 
young lady. "Whatever for? I have nothing that you could want..."

"You have my brother."

Kim's face reddened. "Nikki, your brother and I have never..."

"Not yet," she said. "But you will. I can tell. I know my brother."

"I wish I were that sure," Kim said without thinking.

"Are you afraid of him?" Nikki asked.

"No... not afraid... not exactly," Kimberly stammered.

"He's a good person, Kim. My brother deserves the very best." Her tone of 
voice did not imply that Kimberly didn't fit into this group. It also did 
not automatically place her there.

"Yes, I know that," Kimberly said, her head down slightly.

Nikki reached over, and put her finger beneath Kim's chin, so that Kim 
was looking her in the eyes. "You be good to him, you hear me?" Nikki 
said, and, though it was veiled, Kim thought she heard the implicit 
threat there anyway.

"I will, Nikki. I promise." There were tears in Kim's eyes as Nikki 
leaned over and kissed her softly on the lips. Then she got up and walked 
out. The voice from the other door to the room startled Kimberly rather 
badly.

"Nikki never was one to hold a grudge," Sandra said quietly. Kimberly 
jumped as she turned toward the voice. "But she will hold you to your 
promise."

Kimberly nodded soberly. "I only hope I have a chance to keep it."

"You will. She's right, you know. The only two people who don't know he 
loves you, are you and him. He'll come around, but don't push him. He's 
lost two already, and it's a very sensitive subject. Don't tell him 
unless you're ready to open that door. There's a lot of ugliness behind 
that door, Kim. And he will have to deal with it again. And then you will 
have to deal with however he chooses to deal with it."

"He has been in love twice already?"

"Probably more, if you count his older sister. Ron has lost a lot of 
people who are close to him. He lost Jessica, his first... girl, in the 
first battle with the Russians, a couple years back. Dawn left with 
Nathan soon after that. Kumiko was his first real love, I believe, and 
she was killed by a demon. Michelle was another, and she has, apparently,
turned against him... or she was always this Zinaida person, and what she
had with him was all a lie. Either way, I know he hurts over it. All of 
that is hidden away, Kim. Locked in some corner of his mind. If you tell 
him you love him, it will open that door, and something very unpleasant 
may come out."

"Are you telling me not to tell him?" Kim feared that was exactly what 
his mother was leading to.

"Oh, God, no. Kim, he needs you. Don't you see? The rest of us... okay, 
we love him, but we really don't understand him. I used to think I 
understood my son, but that was before all this happened. Now... now I 
just enjoy the time I have with him."

Kimberly rose from the bed and crossed over to Sandra. "Thank you, 
Sandra. Thank you for your advice... and your permission." Though no one 
had yet said it, both of her visitors this evening were giving their 
implicit permission, and even support, to Kim's adventure.

Sandra hugged the girl to her growing frame, and without hesitation, they 
kissed warmly. Kim melted into it and enjoyed the sensation while it 
lasted. After their lips separated, Sandra said, "Be good to him, Kim." 
The threat was less ominous in Sandra's voice, and Kim wondered just what 
that meant.

"I will. I promise, Sandra." They kissed again, to seal the promise, 
before Sandra left her alone with her thoughts. Her head spun at the 
thought that everyone knew what she felt... except for the one she most 
wanted to know.

The next morning at breakfast, Ron was eating toast and scribbling some 
notes when his mother came into the kitchen to make her own breakfast. 
Ron looked up at her, watching her walk across the kitchen. It would have 
been comical if he didn't love her so much. She was six months pregnant 
now, and her otherwise slender frame was grossly stretched by the baby 
she was carrying. His baby. He rose quietly from his chair and walked up 
behind her, wrapping his arms as far as he could around her waist. He 
laid his head down on top of hers, and just held her for a moment. She 
stopped what she was doing and relaxed back into him, briefly remembering 
the tension the day he had noticed her pregnancy. She feared an outburst, 
she thought he might explode at her. He had sat down and wept. She never 
could bring herself to ask him what was wrong that day. After that, he 
went out of his way, like now, to let her know that he loved her. She 
knew that, anyway, but she enjoyed his attention.

Linda walked in at that moment. Seeing what was happening, she waddled 
herself over, and rubbed Ron's back. He enjoyed that, she knew. She 
reminded herself that this was something she would have to teach Kim.

Ron let go of his mother, and turned to embrace Linda, giving her a warm 
kiss in greeting and thanks. She enjoyed the feel of her stomach pressed 
against him, her swollen breasts pushing into his chest, and her lips 
sealed against his. It was the perfect way to start any morning.

He let her loose with a parting smile, and, without a word, returned to 
his notes. Neither woman knew what was so important, but the scowl that 
returned to his face as he began work again meant that it was definitely 
bothering him. They ate their breakfast in silence.

Kim would have no chance to talk to Ron in a personal way this day. He 
called everyone together for a planning meeting, to discuss some things 
he had figured out.

"Okay, everyone. We've been fighting since late July, and we've achieved 
very little." The bitterness in his voice was hard to miss. Everyone in 
the room knew just whom he blamed for that particular situation. "We have 
to find a way to fight back, without hurting the people more than they 
are already being hurt. First, let's catch up with what's going on around 
the world. Jeff, you have a report, I believe."

Jeff limped up to the podium. His latest injuries had not yet healed, and 
he still had a scar on his forehead from the Philadelphia battle, so many 
months ago. "As you can imagine," he began, "We are the hardest hit 
nation. However, no nation has gone unchallenged. We have reports 
flooding in from Africa, Asia, even Australia. Nowhere is neutral 
territory in this war. We are also receiving dozens of requests for 
training assistance."

"We haven't got the manpower," Colonel Titus grumbled. Ron scowled at 
him, and motioned for Jeff to continue.

"Our reports tell us that even Japan has finally been attacked. We have 
unconfirmed reports that show that this is one place where the FC has 
been stymied. It would appear that, though major damage has been done,
the Japanese psionic community has not taken major casualties. However, 
we have no information to support this report. Both formal and informal
inquiries made toward the Japanese psionic community have been 
unanswered. We have no further information to report on this development, 
but we are working on it.

"In the rest of the world, they are faring about as we are: badly. No one 
really seems to be able to understand the concept that the Russians are 
aiming for. They have yet to go after political or military leaders, or 
even the leadership of the opposing psionic forces. We don't know why 
this is, either. It goes against military doctrine." At this point, Ron 
waved him to a seat. Jeff was glad to be off his feet.

Ron moved back to the front of the room. "That last question, I think I 
finally came up with an answer. It started back in Los Angeles, but it 
wasn't in focus. I couldn't quite get a handle on it. The Miami 
attack..." here, Ron faltered for a second, but recovered, making sure he
did not look in Kim's direction. "Showed me what I was missing. The 
Russians aren't after the country. At least, not yet." Everyone waited 
patiently as Ron warmed up for this talk.

"I couldn't figure out just why they were attacking cities at random... 
destroying them, and then disappearing back to their hidey-holes. They 
weren't actually getting anything out of the attacks. They destroyed all 
the usable materials, most of the citizens had left..."

"But sir," Lars interrupted, "We've found that most of those citizens 
have, in fact, been hunted down after the attacks."

"Not hunted, Lars, I don't think so. They were found and killed, yes, but 
I think it was more of an amusement than a concerted effort. These people 
thrive on killing, but I don't think that's the point of the attacks, 
either.

"Okay, so they don't want resources, they don't want slaves, what does 
that leave? Why go to the city? More important, why let us know you're 
going to the city?" He saw the querying looks he was getting, and so 
moved on. "That's right. I think we were told which cities were going to 
be hit. Why did we know about some, and not others? Why did we know about 
any of them? There was no reason for us to know. No reason for the people 
to know. So why did we? And why never a little town, or a little battle, 
but always those with hundreds of psionics? The only little battles are 
the ones we've stumbled on in progress. That can't be a coincidence.

"What I'm suggesting is this: the target of this Russian campaign... is 
us. Not us in this room, or even just us in this compound, but every 
American... no, every non-Russian psionic in the world. Before someone 
asks: why not attack this compound? If they do that, and succeed in 
destroying us, it makes the others harder to find. The longer this war
drags on, the more psionics find their way to us. We've gathered a total
of 17,852 psionics so far, and we've lost over a quarter of those. We 
have no accurate numbers on how many psionics are in the United States, 
but I'd say we probably account for a significant fraction of them. So, 
destroying the PPA goes against their goal. At least, if they do it 
directly. But if they draw us out into combat protecting a city... well, 
that just looks good for the cameras, doesn't it?" He looked over at 
Melissa Conway, sitting next to her cameraman, filming the briefing. He 
smiled quickly before moving on.

"On the other hand, what else can we do? We can't just hand them the 
city. That condemns millions of people to torture and death. Okay, yes, I 
admit, we've done damned poorly at preventing that anyway." He looked 
down and shook his head, trying to clear the thought. "It's a brilliant 
plan. Either we fight, or we become enemies of our own country. We can't 
attack their country, because their country isn't really the cause of all 
this. So, what do we do? Does anyone know? I haven't got a fucking clue. 
I wish-"

Ron was interrupted by one of the house guards, a former Hunter by the 
look of him. He saluted properly, and waited to be acknowledged. "What is 
it?" Ron asked.

"Sir, we're receiving more troops. These are... not Americans, sir."

"Okay." The man left, and Ron turned his attention back to the group. "I 
guess I need to find out what this is about. If any of you come up with a 
plan to fight this, you let me know. Otherwise, we will continue with the 
only course of action available to us. Dismissed."

As the room broke up, Ron motioned Kim to his side. He walked slowly, to 
make sure she had no problems keeping up. He knew she still had a few 
weeks to go before she would be battle-ready. "How are you feeling 
today?" he asked in an earnest voice. She had noticed that he seemed 
almost to be straining himself, unwilling to actually push her too hard, 
but seeming to push himself in her stead.

"I'm getting stronger every day. I'm a little sore from yesterday, but," 
she added quickly, seeing his concern, "It's nothing more than I would 
have felt from a strenuous workout before the accident."

The accident. He had noticed she had started calling it that. He didn't 
know if that was a mental block on her part, or a way of trying to make 
him feel better about nearly killing her. Either way, the semantics 
didn't fool his own perverse conscience. The only accident was that I 
actually did anything right that day.

"Okay. I'm apparently going to be busy with these new people, so I want 
you to train with either Lars or Jeffrey. Is that okay?"

"Yes. I'll ask Lars. He knows my moves a little better, and can more 
easily tell me where I need improvement. Ron, I understand that you're 
busy. You don't need to see to my rehab every day."

He just looked at her with one of those Wanna bet? looks. He turned away 
from her after a few moments, and said, before walking away, "I'll see 
you later. Take it easy today, okay?"

"Okay," she answered to his retreating back. Did I just make a mistake? 
And if so, what was it? Who can I talk to about this? I have no idea what 
I'm doing! She felt the tears pushing their way to her eyes, but she 
forced them down. Warriors, she had learned, do not cry. She had never 
had someone to teach her differently.

Ron made his way out to the parade ground, to see several hundred 
psionics milling about, in what looked like very worn and tattered 
military gear, but it definitely was not American in manufacture. The 
first soldier to see him bellowed out, "Regiment to attention!" Ron noted 
the accent immediately, having grown used to people's feet slapping 
together when he walked into their midst.

"Stand at ease," he said in a normal tone, using his telepathic strength 
to convey his message more clearly than any public address system. The 
troops fell into a parade rest posture, and focused on their new 
commander. "As I'm sure some of you are already aware, I am General Ron 
Chaffey, of the Provisional Psionic Army of the United States of America. 
We shorten that mouthful down to PPA around here." He waited for, and 
got, the chuckles he expected.

"You are entering the ranks of over twelve thousand soldiers fighting the 
FC forces in America. I can tell by the looks of you that all of you have 
already seen combat with these bastards. You'll see more. A good many of 
the major American cities are already in ruins: Philadelphia, Dallas, Los 
Angeles, Miami, Chicago, Seattle, San Francisco, Phoenix, Albuquerque, 
and more others than I'd care to list. Why certain cities haven't been 
touched yet: Washington, DC; New York; we don't know. What we do know is 
that sooner or later, unless we stop them, the FC will destroy every city 
in the country. It is our job, and you are now part of that 'our', to 
stop them from doing so.

"One thing you may not be used to is the presence of the medical corps." 
Ron pointed to a small group of people, dressed in jumpsuits patterned 
the same as the standard PPA uniform, but colored red with white accents. 
"This team, led by Colonel Susan Chandler, is what stands between you and 
certain death if the Russians get the upper hand on you. I don't know 
what we'd do without her and her crew, and they never get enough credit 
for their work. If you see one of them on a battlefield, afford them as 
much protection as you can: they are not well equipped for fighting.

"Well, that's about it. We don't know when the next big battle is coming, 
and so we will settle you in just as fast as possible. I don't know who 
it was that said an army runs on its stomach, but this one seems to run 
on its paperwork. The ladies are setting up the table there, and I need 
you each to register with them, so that we can fit you to an assignment. 
That is all. Dismissed."

As Ron stepped away from the position he had assumed to speak, one of the 
soldiers approached him. As the man saluted, Ron's memory snapped into 
play. Ron returned the salute. "Mr. Warfield, how good to see you again."

"Yes, sir. It's good to be here. Sir, I have a message for you." The man 
produced a small envelope with the royal crest on it. Ron took it, 
turning it over in his hands.

"Who is this from?" Ron asked astutely.

Tom Warfield smiled knowingly. "Well, let's just say the King isn't 
inviting you to tea." Ron nodded and thanked him before moving off to 
open the note. He read it slowly, absorbing the words, wondering why she 
had written them, and knowing, even as he asked himself the question, 
what the answer was. He walked into the house.

He found Lars practicing with Kim in the small back yard of the house. He 
stood watching them for a while, noting that Kim had improved even from 
the day before. As he watched, however, Lars took her down, rather hard, 
and she made no immediate move to get back up. It was at that point that 
Ron interrupted.

He walked over, but made no effort to help her up, feeling that would 
just embarrass her that much further. He did make eye contact with her, 
and confirmed that she was all right. He turned to Lars. "I have to leave 
for about a day, possibly two. One of our allies wants to talk to me 
about something. In person." Ron kept his voice completely neutral as he 
spoke, and neither of them made any comments about what that might imply.

"Yes sir," Lars answered as Kim got to her feet. Ron made sure she had no 
problems rising, ready to immediately assist with his extension if she 
wavered even the slightest. She didn't. "We'll handle things while you're 
gone. Are you taking anyone with you?" Lars knew that normally Ron
didn't travel alone anymore. He half-expected him to take Kim.

"No. This meeting is to be very confidential. Not to be publicized."

"If anyone asks where you are?" Kim asked.

"Tell them I'm in a conference with our allies."

"Very good, sir," Lars concluded. "Now then, Kim, are you ready for 
more?"

Ron said, rather quickly, "I think she's had enough for the moment. Take 
a break, and start again later." Lars nodded at the wisdom of that. Kim 
just looked at Ron, somewhat puzzled. First he acts as though he hates 
me, and now he seems very concerned about me. He is very hard to figure 
out.

Ron actually used one of the many aircraft now available to the PPA for 
his trip to London. They landed at Hereford, a military base outside 
London, because the Heathrow airport was in ruins. It was late, and Ron 
was tired, and so he again stayed at the small inn just outside of 
London. He was not scheduled to see her until tomorrow, anyway.

The next day, at exactly noon, he walked down a very specific stretch of 
sidewalk, and stopped next to a girl slightly younger than himself, with 
strawberry blonde hair and a face that had already launched a thousand 
fantasies.

"You wanted to see me?" Ron asked quietly. She had not yet turned to 
acknowledge him.

"It used to be pretty here. You know? The trees, and the grass. The old 
buildings, it all used to be very quaint and lovely. Now, it's..." She 
broke off her words, and he could see the tears in her eyes. He longed to 
hold her, but he didn't know if he had permission to go that far.

"Yes. The world is becoming a very ugly place because of them."

"Why?" she sobbed. "What could possibly make them do this? How could 
anyone be this... this heartless?"

"I don't know, Princess. That's a question I struggle with every day, and 
for more reasons than just my peace of mind. What do they want? What will 
they do next? I have no answers." His own thoughts were churning now, but 
as she grew more sorrowful, he just became angry. He turned his thoughts 
from these things. "I can't help you answer these questions. And I don't 
think they're the reason you brought me here."

She wiped at her eyes, and finally looked up at him. "No. It's not. I 
want to show you something, but it is some distance from here..." Her 
eyes asked without the need for words.

"Needing some transportation, are we? Well, let's go then." Ron lifted 
them both off the ground, and the princess quickly remembered the thrill 
of her last ride. She directed him northwest, and they flew for some 
time. When finally they landed, Ron saw what used to be a village.

"This is what I wanted you to see." She walked him over to a cemetery. He 
noted with dismay that the gravesites were impossibly close together.

"I don't understand. Are they buried standing up? Do you need that much 
space?" She merely directed him to read one of the markers. His mind did 
the math automatically, and then went numb with rage. He checked another, 
and another. None of them was over the age of three.

"While they kill many of the adults, they are killing all of the 
children! They hunt them down like rabid wolves, seeking them out of 
their hiding places. And then... then..." she broke down, weeping, and 
this time Ron didn't even hesitate. He wrapped his strong arms around her 
and held her, letting her sob into his chest. Without her even noticing, 
he carried her away from the place, back towards London. She wept 
throughout the flight, oblivious to the scenery flashing past her. By the 
time she calmed down from her crying, they were outside the inn where he 
was staying. There had been a few curious onlookers, but a thought had 
moved them away, and she and Ron stood there, together and alone.

She looked up at him, wiping her eyes free of tears. He looked down at 
her with an expression of tenderness and warmth. She wanted to melt into 
that slight smile, those caring eyes. She did, instead, the other thing 
she wanted to do. She reached up on her tiptoes and kissed him full on 
the mouth. He gave no resistance as her tongue slipped past his lips, 
dancing across his teeth and colliding sensually with his own tongue.

They remained lip-locked as Ron maneuvered them into his room, shutting 
the door without using his hands, and making sure it was secured. His 
hands, meanwhile, caressed her back, feeling the soft skin beneath her
thin cotton dress.

Her hands clung to his back, clawing at his shirt as if to shred it off 
him. Their kissing grew even more passionate as Ron used his extension to 
unbutton her dress from top to bottom. She felt the fabric part between 
them, felt her now bare breasts pressing against him. She moaned as her 
heat rose.

Ron pulled her dress off her shoulders, and she let it fall off her arms 
and onto the floor. She gave it not a second thought as she slipped off 
her shoes. Standing before him in only panties and stockings, she stepped 
back from him slightly. Ron gazed at her form, enjoying the way her 
breasts swelled, the way her legs curved. She bent to slip her panties 
off, and he watched as her tits swung gently. Now, wearing nothing but 
her stockings, she moved back to him, and pulled at his clothing. She
continued yanking at it roughly until she had his uniform down to his 
ankles. She quickly unlaced his boots, and pulled them off, taking his
jumpsuit with them. She took far more care with his briefs. She ran her
hand gently against the outline of his hard cock, tracing it up toward 
the elastic band. She hooked her fingers into this and gently tugged it 
down past his hips. As she did so, his cock sprang free, and she gasped 
softly at its length. She finished pulling off his underwear, but her 
eyes never left his dick.

Her soft hand gently caressed his length, and she could see him shiver 
from it. She lightly gripped his shaft with her hand, slowly sliding her 
fingers up and down his length. She moved closer, and kissed the very tip 
of his cock with the tender caress of a baby's mother. Ron shuddered at 
the sensation.

The princess had never given a blowjob before; her parents, she was sure, 
would think it beneath her. But she knew that was a lie: it was just 
something you did to please your partner. She moved her mouth onto the 
head of his dick, and ran her tongue over the soft skin there. Then she 
slowly took him into her mouth. She slid down onto him until he hit the 
back of her throat, and her gag reflex started. She pulled off of him,
and then pushed her mouth back down. This time, she felt the reflex being 
eased, and his cock slipped all the way into her mouth, until her nose 
rested against the base of his shaft. She moved her tongue around his 
shaft while keeping it buried in her mouth for as long as she could. Then
she began to suck him vigorously.

Ron moaned with the pleasure of it. He had sensed her wish to do her best 
for him, and had helped her get past her gag reflex. Now he was glad that 
he had. This girl could give his sister a run for her money. The 
princess' lips moved quickly back and forth on his shaft, her tongue 
always in motion adding sensation to it. Ron knew he didn't have long 
before he would come. He delved in her mind, seeing what she wanted, and
so he let her go even faster on his shaft, until his cum spurted from his
shaft into her throat. She swallowed and slurped as he continued to 
spasm. She let not a drop of his cum escape her hungry mouth. Only when
he was completely cleaned did she let him slip from her lips.

Ron stood her up, and kissed her hotly, tasting his own fluids in her 
mouth. He had long ago learned to accept that flavor. He started to slip 
down her body, thinking to return the favor, but she stopped him. She 
motioned him to rise.

"It's not that I don't want you to," she said. "Maybe later. Right now, I 
need you inside me. And I want..." she hesitated, not sure if she was now 
being a little childish, demanding he show off for her. Ron knew what it 
was she wanted; he had seen it in her thoughts. He held her lightly, and 
with his extension, he floated the two of them into the very middle of 
the room, as far away from all six surfaces as they could get. She kissed 
him, and her hand slipped down to his shaft again. He felt her maneuver 
herself, and then the slippery warmth of her cunt lips pressed against 
the head of his shaft. Though she kept up the light pressure, she did not 
thrust herself onto him.

"Fuck me!" she whispered urgently. And so, in one hard thrust, Ron 
plunged his dick into her to its full length. She let out a loud moan,
and her fingers gripped the back of his neck tightly, as she held on. He 
began thrusting into her full force, and her hips rocked back into him. 
He slowly spun them in space, moving into what would be impossible 
positions for her to achieve any other way. His cock pounded into her, 
and she grunted and groaned her approval, as her hips lunged back against 
him, seeking to bury him further inside her pussy.

He moved himself around so that he was taking her from behind, and he 
reached around to massage her magnificent tits, fondling them with care 
as he continued to pound her pussy. She came in a sudden rush, her orgasm 
overtaking her almost by surprise. He continued to rut into her 
throughout, letting her rise as high as she could go.

Her orgasm was followed by another, and then yet another as they 
continued to fuck in mid-air, changing positions and rhythms. As Ron
neared his own climax, he knew it was time to pull out all the stops. He
formed a part of his extension into a very thin rod, and pressed it 
against her asshole. She was initially startled by the intruder, but as 
Ron eased her tension and it slipped gently into her, she could feel the 
energy pulsing in her ass. She began to writhe on it, as it pulsed inside 
of her, and then started to thicken. It continued its pulsing, in time 
with Ron's thrusts into her pussy. He again began to caress her tits, 
lightly pinching at her nipples, and kneading her pale flesh. Her mouth 
hung open in the sensations she was feeling, and he couldn't resist.

He formed another appendage to his extension, and he thrust it into her 
mouth. Her eyes opened wide as it slipped much further down her throat 
than his cock had, and it, too, raced with the psionic energy. Her body 
was now being fully fucked in every hole, by a single man. Her orgasm 
exploded from her body, her screams muted by Ron's extension, but her 
passions were clear on her face. Her pussy and ass squeezed tightly 
against Ron, and he was overcome. His climax came upon him and he 
exploded in her sopping cunt.

Their orgasm seemed to last forever, but as they withdrew from their 
peaks of ecstasy, Ron removed his extension from her mouth, and pulled 
her to him, kissing her softly. He slowly moved them over to the bed, 
leaving his dick, now softening, inside of her, and his extension was
still buried deep in her ass, though he had made it much smaller now. 
They lay down on the bed, in each others' arms, and fell sound asleep.

It was several hours before Ron awoke, and when he did, the princess was 
still sleeping quietly in his arms. She shifted slightly as he withdrew 
himself from her. His extension had evaporated as soon as he had fallen 
asleep. His dick slid from her, and he withdrew himself to go to the 
restroom. When he came back out, she was sitting up on the edge of the 
bed.

"This was selfish of me, wasn't it?" she asked. He knew what she was 
referring to, and he didn't want her feeling that way. He moved beside
her on the bed.

"Maybe, but I enjoyed it at least as much as you did, so I think it all 
balances out. Hey, it's not every guy who gets to bed a beautiful 
princess." He said this, and immediately worried that she might think he 
would brag about it.

She smiled at him warmly. "Worth the trip over?"

"Worth a trip twice as far, Princess."

She rose from the bed, and he admired her as she walked to the mirror, 
looking over her body. "I bet you've had better," she said. Ron didn't 
know exactly how to answer this question, so he explained his outlook to 
her.

"I can't say better or worse. I have been with quite a few ladies, and 
they're all different. I've enjoyed each experience, because most of them 
meant something to me."

She turned, and he had yet another beautiful view. "Most?"

He sighed. How to explain it? "In the first days after I learned I was a 
psionic... I... played around a bit. Some of my adventures were with 
people I didn't really care all that much about. In some cases, I 
developed real feelings for those people later, but at the time, it was
just a way to get something I wanted, and to learn to use my powers. I 
guess that sounds pretty selfish, too."

She walked back over to him, and sat down in his lap, wrapping her arms 
around his neck and kissing him. "Maybe, but someone like you deserves to 
have a little fun now and again." He took his hint from how she said 
'again'. The next two hours passed by in a frenzy of movement and cries 
of pleasure.

When they had finally had enough for the day, they showered and 
redressed. He found her outside, staring at the sunset, after he finished
dressing.

"There is one other thing," she said. "It's something I overheard my 
father talking to his staff about. They're not going to tell you about 
this."

"What is it?"

"They've heard rumors that the Russians have a base camp, a headquarters, 
somewhere in either western Russia, or Eastern Europe someplace. I didn't 
get any more than that. I don't know if that's at all helpful to you." 
She turned to him, searching his face for his emotions.

Ron had already donned his sunglasses, making it hard to read his eyes, 
but the smile was touching. "Any information is helpful, Princess. And 
this time with you has been very... relaxing." They both smiled at that. 
"Perhaps we will see each other again."

"Perhaps soon?" she asked hopefully.

"We'll see," he said noncommittally. "Do you need a ride home?"

"No, I called for my chauffeur. That's him now." He kissed her once 
again, and then she got into the waiting limo. The chauffeur looked at 
him blankly, and then got in the driver's side of the car and drove off. 
He stood, looking at the receding vehicle, and then decided it was time 
to go home. She had, after all, given him a lead to follow.

When Ron returned to PPA headquarters from the airport, he saw a frenzy 
of activity. In the midst of it was Col. Chandler, her short red hair 
flipping back and forth about her head as she turned here and there, 
directing people and shouting orders. Without getting in her way, he 
asked telepathically, <What happened?>

<More casualties. St. Louis just fell. The arch is lying at the bottom of 
the Mississippi River.>

<Shit. Good luck, doc.>> Ron moved into the house, setting his beret on 
his desk, and sitting down in his desk chair. Shortly thereafter, Kim 
showed herself in the doorway. He motioned her in.

As she walked over to his desk, she took note of a certain lightness in 
his mood, a certain relaxed quality. She took a guess. "How was she?" she 
asked lightly, not meaning any harm by the comment. Ron was caught off 
guard, and he stammered a bit, his face turning a bright shade of red. He 
did not understand why he would feel... what? Guilty? Over what? He had 
no commitments here that didn't understand his relationships with other 
women. So why did he feel guilty around Kimberly all of a sudden? Kim, 
seeing what she had caused, quickly changed the subject.

"Did you learn anything on your trip?" She sank down in the chair 
opposite him, glad to have a few moments to rest. She was pushing herself 
to become rehabilitated as quickly as possible. Her troops were going 
into battle without her, and that was wrong.

"Actually, yes. I learned two things. First is that the Russians are 
animals. They are killing every child they come in contact with. I'll 
explain why I think that is in a minute. The other... hang on." Ron 
lifted the phone and punched his intercom. "Jill? Could you have Jeff 
join me in my office? Thank you." He set the phone down and they waited. 
Kim was very uncomfortable with her earlier faux pas.

"Ron, I didn't mean..." He waved her off with a smile.

"Sorry, you just caught me a little off guard. Although everyone here 
knows... well, knows how I am, it's not something we usually talk about."

Kimberly nodded, as Jeff walked into the room, still limping, but better 
than he was a couple days ago. He struggled to a proper attention posture 
and saluted. "Jeff Durant, reporting as ordered, sir!"

"Yeah, yeah. Sit down." Jeff slumped into the seat next to Kim. "Jeff, 
where do the Russians go when they finish with a city?"

"Sir?"

"Where do they go? They don't stay in the cities for any length of time; 
we know that. Where do they go?"

"Well, we've always assumed they moved on to another city or town..."

"Too much time lapse between attacks for that. They'd either have to be 
spending a great deal of time just lounging about, or they're going 
somewhere. Either way, we need to find out where."

"Yes, sir. How should we do that?"

Kim interrupted with, "Let the Hunters do it. They're trained to track 
without being noticed."

"Kimberly, if you think I'm letting you in on this..." Ron started.

She waved her hand. "As much as I would like to, I am not ready to return 
to combat operations. Susan said so, and I don't feel ready yet, anyway." 
She was beginning to feel the return of her old doubts, and coupled with 
her new feelings for the person she would normally lean on for support, 
she was very unsure of herself just now.

"Okay. Have Stefan take a group, and follow the next Russian group they 
come in contact with. They are not to engage the enemy. If they are 
spotted, their orders are to run like hell. Understood?"

"Yes, sir!" she responded automatically.

"Okay. That's what I wanted, Jeff. How's the leg?"

"Getting there, sir. Doc says I should be up and at 'em again in about a 
week."

"Good. Look, the Princess said that her father was talking to his staff 
about an FC HQ somewhere in either western Russia, or Eastern Europe. If 
there is one, then that's likely where their troops are going back to. 
Let's find out, shall we?"

The two people across from him nodded, and then they rose and left. Ron 
took out a stack of old plans for battles that he'd worked up, and leafed 
through them. These were plans he'd done before the military people had 
begun advising him. He was tempted to trash them, but something made him 
start looking through them. He fell asleep poring over those papers.

In the next two weeks, very little happened. Ron planned, Jeff and Kim 
rehabbed, and Susan worked to heal the injured. Battles happened, but 
none of them were major. The Russians were moving about the country at
random, and the PPA was doing their best to find them and keep them from 
killing Americans.

All of that changed on the day before Christmas. Stefan and his group 
came straggling in to Ron's office, with Susan hot on their heels. 
"General, these soldiers refuse to be treated until they give their 
report. I want you to order them to the hospital right away!"

"Susan," Ron started quietly, "They're already in my office, and it's 
going to take more effort for you to get them out of my office than it is 
for them to just give their report. So calm down, take a seat, and wait."

Susan harrumphed, but sat herself down in a chair by the wall. Ron turned 
his attention to the people before him. "Okay, Hunter. Report."

"Sir!" he began, and was interrupted as Kim came into the room. He nodded 
for her to have a seat, and then for the man to continue. "We did our 
best to follow the FC soldiers. We were almost caught trying to return to 
you, which explains our present condition. Regardless of the doctor's 
worries, we're fine."

"Continue, Major. And you will report to the hospital for a physical 
after this debriefing is finished."

"Yes, sir. Anyway, we tracked them as you ordered. We caught up with a 
group leaving Houston. Sir, they left a wake of dead bodies... all of 
them six and under. The parents were nowhere to be found, but the 
children... sir, they murdered all of them."

"I am aware of the tactic, Major."

"You never did tell me what that meant, Ron," Kim interjected.

"In a minute. Go on, Major."

"Well, sir, we tracked them for three days. Eventually, they did return 
to the Ukraine, where they have a fortified headquarters building 
slightly larger than this house. Only, it's made out of solid concrete,
reinforced with rebar. It is a true fortress, sir."

"Can you locate it on a map?"

"Already done, sir," the man handed over a map. "Is that all, sir?"

"Yes. You are dismissed."

"Wait a minute!" Kim demanded. "What about the children?" Ron looked at 
her for a second, weighing his options. Everyone else had frozen with the 
question, waiting for an answer.

"The children, Kim, are potential enemies to the Filitov Council. They 
apparently worry that the Ability Sphere isn't visible in a younger 
child. So, they will kill them all. It goes back to their goal: they want 
to be the only psionics on the planet. After they've gotten rid of all of 
us, then taking over the world is a simple task for them, isn't it? 
Nobody need even know they were actually doing it. And, with a little 
creative reprogramming, in a generation or two, nobody would even 
remember psionics exist. Hmmm. That's a thought..." Ron's mind wandered 
off on a tangent for a while, before he snapped himself back to reality. 
"Anyway, that's what's up with the children. You are dismissed, Major. 
Kim, tell Jeff I need to see him, please. And Lars."

Ron sat back as the others left the room. Now, how do we do this?

The next day was a mix of the normal, the spiritual, and the insane. 
Christmas at Ron's house was always a little unusual, but with the war, 
he had not had the time to make his usual preparations. He did, however, 
have suitable gifts for everyone. He had invited all houseguests, but not 
those in the facility, to participate. It was the first Chaffey Christmas 
for Cindy, Lars, Kim, and even Shelley had been asked to join them. He 
presented Shelley with a very nice outfit that was very tasteful. He 
admitted to having his mother help him pick it out. Lars received a very 
valuable old sword. Ron explained that it just seemed to suit Lars' 
personality. Lars ran his hands over it, muttering something in Swedish 
that Ron couldn't understand.

"Thank you, my friend," Lars said quietly.

Nikki and Tammy once again each got a puppy, bad things having happened 
to the last two he had bought for them. They cried over them just like 
the first time. Ron shook his head to think that at least that hadn't 
changed in his life.

Sandra received some beautiful clothes, some of which would have to wait 
until after the baby had arrived. Ron was trying to let her know that he 
would still find her attractive after then. She bent over and hugged him, 
struggling to get back upright. Ron noticed that Kimberly wasn't opening 
her gift. He moved quietly over to the spot she had chosen, an out of the 
way corner of the room.

"Is something wrong, Kim?" He asked so that no one else would hear them.

"Ron, I can't accept whatever is in this box. I got you nothing for 
Christmas." It had entirely slipped her mind until the day before, and it 
was, of course, much too late then.

"The gift wasn't given to get something in return," he said with a small 
sigh. "It was given... because I wanted to give it." He would never tell 
her that he regularly sent gifts to almost everyone he'd met, including 
the Princess. It wasn't an appropriate time for that kind of revelation.

"But..." she still needed convincing.

He knelt next to her, and looked her in the eyes. "Look, I can't take it 
back, so if you don't accept it, I'll have to find someone else to give 
it to. Now, do you really want to cause me all that trouble, just because 
you didn't get me something?" It was a perfect ploy, and only the twinkle 
in his eyes kept it from being a stinging remark. She smiled slightly and 
gave in to the inevitable.

She removed the paper to reveal what was obviously a jewelry box. She 
opened this ever so slowly, and even her quiet gasp was enough to silence 
the rest of the room. She looked up at him, and there were tears in her 
eyes. "It's beautiful," she said in a hushed voice.

He took the box from her and removed the necklace. He moved behind her 
and placed it around her neck. Sandra and Linda both looked at it in awe 
and envy. Though their own necklaces, given three years ago and still 
worn every single day, were very precious to them, and were by no means 
trinkets, this necklace outshone theirs by a mile. It was a gold band 
inlaid with clear crystal that shone brighter than diamond, and set 
evenly along its length were emeralds, rubies, and the bluest of 
sapphires. Like their own, Kim's necklace dipped into a "v" at the very
front, and from it hung a small, but exquisite gem that neither of them
could name. When Ron held it up, it appeared to be clear, but as soon as
it touched Kimberly's skin, it took on a faint bluish tint, almost a 
glow. They were enraptured with the beauty of it. It took them a while to
realize just how much Ron must care for the girl, even if he didn't yet
realize it.

Kimberly loved having him touch her, loved having his hands on her skin. 
She also loved having something he had given her against her skin. As if 
he were reading her mind, he leaned into her ear and said, "Please, don't 
ever take this off if you go out of the house, okay? There is a reason, 
but I don't want to tell you now." She merely nodded, unsure of her 
voice, and then wiped away the tears of joy that had flooded her eyes. As 
Ron returned to his seat, she shared a look with Sandra, who placed her 
hand below her own necklace, and then nodded for her to look around. 
Linda, Nikki, Tammy... they all wore similar necklaces, but nothing so 
elaborate as her own. What does this mean? she wondered.

The rest of Christmas day went by smoothly, and it was a day of rest for 
all of them. Even the FC seemed to be taking Christmas off, which was 
just fine with everyone else. The next week would be hectic enough.

On New Year's Day, Ron called his staff together, to outline the plan 
they had worked up. "This," he said, revealing what was obviously a 
satellite photo, "Is FC HQ. Or, I should say, we believe it to be. We 
have tracked people coming in and out of this facility. This seems to be 
their main planning facility.

"Unlike our enemy, I intend to take the battle to their leadership. Cut 
off the head, and the serpent dies. Well, we're going after the head. 
Colonel Titus, you want to outline the plan for them?"

Ron sat down as the colonel stepped forward, and laid out the plan of 
action over the next forty-five minutes. Questions took another hour, 
forcing some minor modifications to the battle plans. Then it was time 
for the pep talk. Ron rose again to speak.

"Okay, everyone. These bastards have attacked innocent civilians and 
peace-loving psionics for five full months. It's time that we show them 
why that was a bad idea. We mount up tomorrow, the attack happens in four 
days. That is all." As everyone filed out of the room, he took Kimberly 
aside. "Has Susan cleared you for battle status yet?" he asked.

"No, the last time I spoke to her, she still wasn't sure."

"When was that?"

"About four days ago."

"Ask again. I need you out there." Ron walked off, muttering something to 
himself.

And now, just when I think he's starting to like me, he turns back into 
the cold and calculating general again. Will I ever have a chance with 
him? Do I want one, if this is how he behaves? The little voice in her 
head answered that last question for her.

Susan somewhat reluctantly cleared Kim for duty, and she was now in the 
jeep, or whatever the Americans call this oversized tank with wheels, on 
her way to the airport to board a plane. A plane? How would they get 
permission to land?

That question was quickly answered by the fact that Ron handed her a pair 
of "jump-wings" to put on her uniform. Seeing her look, he laughed.

"Hey, if we're going to jump out of an airplane, we must be jump-
qualified, right? Can I help it if we don't need parachutes?" The 
equipment would, sensibly, have parachutes attached, but they would guide
it to make sure it landed in the appropriate places.

An hour later, she was on a flight heading east, into the rising sun. It 
was to be a long flight, and this plane was not all that comfortable, 
being a military model rather than a civilized aircraft. She hunkered 
down against her seat, and tried to sleep. She figured she should get as 
much of it as she could now; she didn't think she'd be getting much in 
the next few days.

Three days later, she was crawling - almost literally - through the 
forest, and she had been right: sleep had not been plentiful since their 
arrival "in country". They had gone over and over the plan repeatedly 
until she could do it in her sleep. She knew that this was the point, but 
she now longed for the opportunity to sleep. She glanced to her left, and 
there was Lars. To her right was Ron. They dared not use any form of 
psionic communication this close to their target, so she motioned them to 
stop.

"I believe we are at the point where we need to separate," she whispered. 
Ron nodded agreement, as did Lars.

"Lars, you circle that way, and Kim, circle around to that side. Wait for 
my call, and whatever you do, don't take off that necklace."

Kim grew a little concerned by that comment, but Lars said, "Ron, you 
really should tell her what it's for."

Kim was beginning to grow impatient, so Ron relented, smiling at her. 
"Okay, okay," he said quietly. "On top of being pretty, and accenting 
your eyes," he noticed her blush when he said that, "The specific gems in 
that specific pattern also act as a mental homing device. If you know the 
pattern, and you know the... um... 'frequency' on which to look. I'll 
always know where you are, so long as you have that on. The last thing I 
want to have happen is to lose you out here somewhere." He placed his 
hand on top of hers for but a brief moment, and then he signaled her to
move off. This she did, with her thoughts jumbled as to his real intent.

Ron moved his team forward more slowly than the other two groups, as he 
was taking the most direct approach. It took another two hours before 
they had reached the tree line that bordered the clearing in which sat 
what could best be described as an extremely large bunker, made, as 
expected, of reinforced concrete. The window openings were mere slits, 
and even these had gratings over them. Ron wondered if the grating would
somehow stop psionic energy, but he had no way to tell without announcing
his presence. It was time to wait for the other teams.

It took another hour for the other two teams to get in place, the entire 
time of which Ron sat immobile, but his patience wearing away. He wanted 
to do something, and sitting here staring at the objective didn't count. 
Finally, he received the mirror flashes that indicated the other two 
teams were in place. They had moved quietly, and there appeared to be no 
sign that the ten guards on top of the bunker had heard, seen, or sensed 
anything yet. He hoped that, like in his own home, the people inside the
bunker would depend on the guards for protection, and would not be alert 
to psionic activity themselves. The guards were the responsibility of 
Ron's team. He gestured, a swift, cutting motion with his hand, and 
twenty members of his team took down the guards. The two-to-one advantage
guaranteed swift and silent results. The guards all collapsed like 
marionettes with cut strings.

Ron flashed a brief mental signal to both other teams, and they started 
moving in. Slowly, they moved across the brush-covered areas of the 
clearing, until they reached what would be considered the "yard" of this 
particularly odd "house". The lawn was two hundred yards wide, and the 
easiest way to cover it was quickly. Ron gestured to his team, and they 
all flew right up to the building, stopping at points that could not be 
seen through the windows. Kim's team came next, and Lars' last.

Once they were all in position, a brief and very directed mental signal 
went out to their backup teams waiting in the forest, to let them know 
the objective was about to be assaulted. Ron moved around to the main 
door of the complex, while Lars moved about to the rear entryway. Another
brief signal, and both doors were burst open with a shove of telekinetic 
power. The teams rushed in, leaving a guard force behind so that they 
would know if anything was coming their way. So far, it had been a 
picture-perfect raid. That was about to end.

Doors were burst open, and offices were entered, but the building was 
empty. Bunk rooms were rushed into, only to find them empty. The 
cafeteria, the gym, the library, all were empty.

After a thorough search, only ten psionics were found at all, and those 
had been the ones on the roof. The offices were gone through, and though 
some plans were found, by now Ron knew they would all be fakes.

"Shit. It was a fucking lie," he spat.

"Yes, sir," Kim replied. "The only question now..."

"Is whether it is also a trap," Ron finished for her. "All right, 
everyone, let's move it out. There's nothing here." It was then that they 
received the warning from the perimeter guards: troops on the way.

The team moved outside, to see that they were facing not just psionics, 
but tanks, guns, and other normal military weaponry. "Well this is a 
switch," Lars said.

"Can it. Now, move out!" Ron commanded, leading his team forward. Kim's 
team moved left, and Lars' group moved right, trying to flank the 
positions of the enemy. But the soldiers opened fire, and the psionics 
were soon having to dodge and duck behind objects to avoid being shot. 
Ron cursed. Sure, he could stop bullets, if he could concentrate on them. 
It's hard to concentrate when they're whizzing at you from six different 
directions.

Then the psionic blasts began. The trees and rocks that the PPA had taken 
for cover were shattered and blasted apart by the FC psionics. The 
Americans had to run for new positions to avoid being punctured 
repeatedly by fast moving lead projectiles.

Ron saw his opportunity, and moved left. From this position, he couldn't 
be seen easily, and he wasn't in the direct path of fire. He focused on 
the first tank, and the ammunition inside started cooking off, 
immediately killing the crew inside. Ron was joined by two other PPA 
soldiers, and they made quick work of the tanks. There were still 
individual soldiers with guns, though, and their programming was total:
they were FC robots made of flesh and blood. Their only thought was to
kill: they had no fear of death.

Ron shot off a signal to the backup teams, and received his 
acknowledgment. Then he started working on the infantry. His position was
soon detected by the FC, and he drew mental fire from them, but his 
shields held up to their attacks, and he and his subordinates returned 
fire, transfixing them with powerful kinetic blasts, then watching as 
their bodies fell limply to the ground. Still, they had to move: the 
position had been compromised. They moved forward, approaching the line 
of Russian soldiers. Ron noticed that they had all nicely lain on the 
ground, behind a small berm, but in a straight line. He looked left and 
right of their position, and then shot off a message to Lars.

Together, the two men pushed over two large trees on either side of the 
Russian line. The trees fell quickly, and the entire company of soldiers 
was crushed beneath the weight of the falling lumber. There were a few 
who had escaped, but other members of the PPA quickly mopped them up. 
That left only the psionics to be dealt with.

The Russians were suddenly caught out in the open, without their 
distraction. They moved to duck on the other side of the building from 
the PPA, but the American reinforcements picked that moment to show 
themselves. The chaos was immediate and deadly for the Russians.

Ron moved himself out onto the field of battle now, not really afraid of 
psionic fire, as his shields could stop that. He took down two Russians, 
and then something made him look right. There he saw Kimberly, taking 
down one Russian, but she was apparently not aware that she was being 
attacked by yet another. Ron saw the blast leave the FC soldier's hand, 
and his world seemed to move in extreme slow-motion. From his current 
position, he knew, he could not stop the attack: he was much too far 
away. He started to fly in that direction, as fast as he could. Still, he 
felt as if he were moving in a dream: everything around him seemed to 
slow down, but he moved as if it were normal. His senses were reporting 
information far faster than normal, and the speed his body was going must 
have been incredible.

As he approached, he saw Kim turn and see the fatal blow coming for her 
head. He watched as her face changed from surprise, to fear, and quickly 
to terror. He saw her begin to raise her arms, as if that would matter. 
His shields were at maximum power, but he knew that this was more a 
matter of time than power, and he feared he wouldn't make it.

He somehow managed to stop himself from an incredible speed at just the 
right point. He wrapped his arms around Kimberly, his shields at absolute 
maximum power, a mere quarter-second before the blast washed over him. It 
was a strong blast, but Ron's shields were so strong as to be visible to 
a normal, and the Russian's attack stood no chance of penetrating that 
wall of energy. Without even looking, Ron's extension pierced his 
shielding, and lunged for the Russian's head at lightning speed, piercing 
his skull with a single thrust. Ron had the satisfaction of hearing the 
man's skull crack apart, as he pulled his extension back into himself, 
and lowered his shields.

Time sped back up to normal for Ron, but he didn't yet let go of 
Kimberly. She looked up at him, not really sure just what had happened,
but she knew that she'd just had her life saved by the man she secretly 
loved.

"Thank you," she gasped, and hugged him tightly. He held her in his arms 
for a few moments, but then, ever so gently, pulled her back.

"We need to get out of here." She nodded. Ron looked around, and saw 
that, for once, the PPA was actually in charge of a battle. He hated to 
take it away from them, but this was not why they had come here, and the 
Russians probably had more reinforcements on the way.

<PPA! Move out!> His order was followed at once, as the soldiers 
disengaged in a fighting withdrawal. There were few FC soldiers left 
standing, in any case.

"Where to now, Ron?" Lars asked.

"Lars, you take the troops to Germany. We have friends there, and that's 
where the plane landed. Go home. And call up HQ and tell them to send the 
VC-20 plane for Kim and I. We're going to England." Kim was somewhat 
surprised to be included in any trip that involved the princess, but was 
happy to be allowed to go with Ron, in any case.

"Yes, sir!" Lars responded, and moved off. Kim and Ron headed in a 
slightly different direction, at high speed.

Hidden on a hill a quarter mile away from the scene of the battle, 
Zinaida Dostoyeva had watched it all unfold. Her lieutenant was with her, 
and said, "Looks like their leader is pretty strong, boss."

"Yes," said Zinaida. "But I know his weakness. When we return to 
headquarters, tell Sakov and Belarev that I want to see them."

"Yes, ma'am," the lieutenant replied, wondering why she wanted to see her 
two strongest psionics together. Well, he would find out soon enough.

It was nearly nightfall by the time Ron and Kim made it to London. 
Instead of taking a rest at the inn, however, they headed straight for 
the palace. Ron was far too angry to be tired. Kim was tired, from the 
battle, and from the terror of seeing her life almost end, but she kept
up with her leader.

They walked right in to the palace, unchallenged, even though Ron was far 
too angry to bother with the subterfuge of making them unseen. Obviously, 
someone had given new orders to the palace guards. They were met at the 
door by a princess who was, at first, happy to see him.

Ron took hold of her somewhat roughly, and pinned her to a wall. His eyes 
bored in on hers as his mind marauded through her memories. He found the 
section he was looking for. His grip on her immediately eased, and his 
eyes softened. The fear that she had felt from seeing her lover in so 
angry and vengeful a manner eased somewhat as his expression changed.

"Sorry, Princess. I had to make sure you weren't the one who lied."

"What do you mean?"

"The headquarters you told me about was a trap," Ron said simply.

"Oh... my... my... God... I could have... I could have gotten you 
killed!" the princess stammered.

"Take it easy, it wasn't your fault. You were misled in such a way that 
you could not have reacted any differently. That was their plan: they 
knew I wouldn't trust your father. They knew I would trust you."

"Who knew, Ron?" Kim asked.

"The Russians, who else? Oh, by the way, Princess Melissa, this is 
Kimberly... um... I don't know your last name, Kim," Ron said sheepishly.

"Just call me Kim," she said to the princess, giggling at Ron's 
discomfiture. They shook hands warmly, and shared a certain connection
almost immediately. The princess greeted her in a friendly manner, before
returning her attention to Ron. Kim recognized the look of devotion on 
the girl's face, and didn't reflect on the fact that it mirrored her own.

"I need to see your parents, Princess. Both of them."

"They're having dinner right now. With guests."

"Like I give a shit," Ron said to no one in particular. To the princess, 
he said, "Show me where."

Many heads turned as the doors to the dining hall opened to admit the 
interlopers. The king nearly rose from his chair, seeing who it was. 
"Guard, remove these two at once!" The guard made moves toward Ron, but
was thrown back against the wall, unconscious.

Ron's voice rang across the dining hall. "Try that again, Your Majesty," 
and Ron's voice dripped with sarcasm, "And the next person being thrown 
against a wall will be you!" Ron motioned to Kim, and their boots rang 
against the marble floor as they marched down either side of the table, 
flanking the king's position, effectively trapping him.

"What is the meaning of this?" the king bellowed.

"I will take only a moment of your time, sir. If you are not what I 
suspect you are, then I will return you to your meal, slightly 
embarrassed, but none the worse for wear. Now sit still and shut up." The
princess paled; no one had ever spoken to her father in that manner. 
Kimberly kept her eyes roaming the room, looking for danger, but finding
none.

Shortly thereafter, Ron pulled out of his head. "Shit."

"What is it, Ron?" the princess asked.

"Your father has been permanently reprogrammed. I wonder -" Ron's thought 
was interrupted.

"It was by me," a voice said, in a thick accent that left no doubt as to 
its origin. The woman was definitely a Russian. It was not, however, 
Zinaida.

"Who the devil are you?" the king insisted.

"Why, Your Majesty," she cooed, "Forgotten your lover already? We were 
good together, you and I. And the whole time, I was fiddling in your 
mind, you never noticed a thing." She laughed an evil, vicious laugh of 
superiority. Then she turned to Ron. "You will have no allies in our 
hemisphere, General!" It was the last thing she had a chance to say, as 
Kimberly reached out with her extension and crushed the woman's windpipe.

"Barbarian!" she spat. Ron rifled through the woman's mind, but found 
little of use. Obviously, Zinaida was keeping her plans close. As the 
woman finally asphyxiated, Ron turned his mind on the queen. He found her 
mind clear of tampering. The prince was not so lucky, though he did 
remember spending a night with the Russian woman, it was so burned into 
his mind that he would have done anything she asked of him.

Ron took the princess aside. "We have a problem. By all rights, your 
father and brother have committed treason. They have conspired with the 
enemy." The nearest guest heard this talk, and quickly left the room. Kim 
had no orders to stop him, and let him go, since he was not a threat.

"What would you have me do?" the princess asked. Ron was about to suggest 
something when the guest returned with ten guards. Ron immediately 
tensed, but the guards approached the king and his son.

The man said properly, "Your Majesty, Your Highness, I am placing you 
under arrest for high treason."

"This is preposterous!" the prince screamed. "You have no proof of 
wrongdoing!"

"There you are wrong, young man." The guest turned to Ron. "You see, 
General, I am William Mathers, the prime minister of the United Kingdom. 
Do you vow, before these witnesses, that their minds contain proof of the 
crime of which I have accused them?"

Ron straightened himself, to appear more official. He stepped slightly 
away from the princess, as he raised his voice. "Yes, Mr. Prime Minister, 
I do. Their minds contain definite proof of treasonous acts. They have 
given aid and comfort to the enemy of the United Kingdom."

"Thank you, General. Guards, take them away."

"This is ludicrous! You have no real proof!" the prince cried. The king 
was extremely subdued.

"Young man," the prime minister said, "If you bothered to pay attention 
to national affairs, you would know that, months ago, when we first 
learned of the psionics and their ability to read minds, the Parliament 
passed a law stating that a person's thoughts are, in fact, admissible 
evidence if they can be verified by a certified psionic. General Chaffey 
is as certified as they come, and we will have it double-and triple-
checked by other court psionics. You should have known the consequences 
of your actions, boy."

As the two were being led out, the prime minister said to Ron, "Thank 
you, sir, for bringing this to our attention. But I was not aware that 
such a level of manipulation was possible for a psionic."

"It's not something we prefer to have widely known, Mister Prime 
Minister."

"Understandable, I suppose. We will handle this matter with the utmost 
care. Might I inquire how you came upon the knowledge of the King's 
treason?"

"We were given information, from the king, through the princess, that a 
certain place was the headquarters of our mutual enemy. It turned out to 
be a trap. I must stress that the princess was not involved in the 
treachery. She was expertly used by the forces involved, and she believed
she was helping us. She should not be affected in any way by the actions
against the king and his son."

"Nor will she be. It does, however, leave us with a sticky situation. For 
a girl her age to be coronated... well, it hasn't been done in recent 
history."

"I understand that, Mr. Prime Minister, but I think you will find that 
she will make an excellent queen for you. Just give her the chance."

"I cannot fault your loyalty to a friend, General. This will, of course, 
be fully discussed in the proper venue. I would like to offer my 
country's official thanks to you, General."

"Not necessary, but we gratefully accept your thanks. Now, we must return 
home, to continue our fight."

The princess showed them to the castle gates, where she expressed her 
concerns for her future. "What if the Russians come after me?"

Ron looked to Kim, and they shared an immediate thought. "Protect 
yourself, Your Highness," Kim said.

"How?" the princess asked.

"With a psionic or two. Someone you trust," Ron answered.

"I understand," the princess replied, and then, in light of present 
company, gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. "Good day to you, Ron 
Chaffey, good day, Kim." They both bowed slightly to her, and left for 
the airport to return home.

"A long day, Ron," Kim observed.

"Yes, but not so long as some others. At least we didn't lose very many 
people today."

"Do you think we have a chance of winning this war?" she asked, 
expressing her own doubts and fears.

"I don't fight to lose, Kim," he said with a tired smile, leaning back 
against his seat as the plane rolled for takeoff, closing his eyes, and 
falling asleep.

I hope you're right, Ron. If we're ever going to be together, this war 
has to end. Her mind considered that for some time as the plane flew back 
over the Atlantic, until she, too, finally slept.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 4: Prisoner of War

Ron was working on some plans for trying to find out the real 
headquarters of the FC when Jill interrupted him. He looked up in 
irritation, as he had asked not to be disturbed. When he did, his mood 
changed immediately to astonishment. He thought how silly he must look 
with his mouth hanging open.

"Dawn?" he asked hesitantly. Her clothes were tattered, her face was 
dirty, and her hair was matted, but it was her. She carried Nathan 
protectively in her arms, but he, too, was filthy. Ron turned to Jill.

"Go get my mother and sister. Now." Jill quickly left the room to do as 
she had been bidden. He stood up and approached his sister. He could feel 
the terror in her. "What are you doing here? Where's Peter?"

"Peter's dead," she responded with no inflection in her voice.

He guided her to a chair, as it looked as if she were about to collapse. 
"What happened?"

"This war is what happened!" she suddenly screamed. "This war you 
started! What did you think, the rest of the country would be left 
alone?" Her eyes were wild with hysteria and panic. "They came after us! 
They attacked us without end! We've been running for months! We finally 
made it back to town a couple of days ago, but then they really came 
after us! Peter hid us as best he could, and then he led them off on a 
chase. He was on his way back to us, when I... he told me... in my head, he 
told me... that he wasn't going to be able to make it back. I felt his 
scream in my head! I felt him die! Damn you, Ron!" She broke down in 
tears, and then Nathan, who had been quiet throughout her story, began to 
cry. Ron pulled the child away from her, and she collapsed into the 
chair, curling up into a ball and weeping uncontrollably.

Ron looked Nathan over while he had the chance, and the boy looked 
unhurt. He was obviously in need of a bath, and he was probably hungry. 
He had quieted down almost instantly when Ron had taken him, and now he 
sat on Ron's lap quietly, looking around the room with interest. He was 
nearly three years old, yet Ron could tell that his intelligence was 
beyond that. Just then, his family came in the room, accompanied by Kim.

"Dawn!" cried Sandra, as she rushed to her daughter's side. Nikki stood 
back, looking from Dawn to Ron and back. Finally, she walked over to Ron 
and picked up little Nathan, who smiled at his aunt and giggled as she 
bounced him in her arms.

"I'll get him cleaned up, Ron," Nikki said quietly. He just nodded, 
keeping an eye on Dawn as his mother tried to rouse her from her sobbing 
stupor. Kim kept her distance, unsure of what to do, or whether she 
should even be there. Ron gave her a slight smile and nodded his head 
lightly, indicating that it was okay for her to remain, so she did.

Ron waited calmly for Sandra to settle Dawn down, so that he could ask 
her a couple of questions. Once she'd gotten quiet, and her mother was 
sitting beside her, holding her and lending support, she asked the first 
question.

"Where's Nathan?" There was a sense of fear and distress in her voice.

"Nikki's giving him a bath." When he saw that this answer was acceptable 
to his sister, he began his own questions. "Why didn't Peter call us?"

"He never had a chance! We were always hiding. They were hounding us day 
and night. We've been all over the country, but I guess they were keeping 
us away from you somehow, because we never encountered any of the PPA 
troops we'd read about in the papers that we'd managed to get. The only 
times we were able to stop moving was when we were hiding, hoping they 
would go away. They never did. And Peter didn't dare give away our 
position by trying to contact you. There were just too many of them!"

"Okay, okay, shhh..." he said soothingly, not wanting to set her off again. 
"Do you know how many people were chasing you?"

"I don't think it was always the same bunch, but there were always at 
least six or seven of them... the few times I saw them, anyway. Usually, we 
moved when Peter told us they were getting close, so we didn't actually 
see them very often. I don't think Peter slept for more than fifteen 
minutes out of any given day for the last two months. Our lives have been 
a nightmare!" She shuddered, and stopped talking.

Ron seethed at the pain Zinaida had put his sister through. He knew they 
were after Nathan, but he really didn't know why. He had assumed that 
Peter, being at least as strong as Ron himself, would have been able to 
protect her. That he had been wrong infuriated him. He had to set that 
aside, however, to deal with his sister, who was more emotionally 
unstable now than when she had left. There was one question, however, 
that finally occurred to him

"How did you get away, then? Surely they didn't just leave after they 
killed Pete..."

"Some of your goons showed up and scared away their goons," Dawn said, 
the anger in her voice evident. Ron just nodded impassively. He wasn't 
about to try to convince his sister of the truth of what was going on.

"Are either you or Nathan hurt?"

Dawn shook her head, trying to regain her composure. "No, I don't think 
so. I mean, we've both got little aches and pains, but that's probably 
from sleeping on hard surfaces for the last three months." Ron realized 
that it had been three months since he'd last heard from Peter. It had 
not occurred to Ron that this was a problem: he had been too involved in 
the war effort to understand the significance of the lack of 
communication. He'd lost another friend because he'd made another 
mistake.

"Well, that's all I really need to know for now. Mom will help you clean 
up, and we'll get you settled in." Ron moved over to his sister and knelt 
before her. He took her hands in his, and she made no effort to stop him. 
"Sis, I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you, or Nathan. I'm sorry this all 
had to happen. I wish I could take this all back, and we could start 
again. But I can't, and now we've just got to live with all the stuff 
I've fucked up."

Dawn saw the pain in his eyes. She understood what he was trying to say, 
even if the words weren't coming out as he wanted them to. She still 
loved her brother, and she didn't know, anymore, why she'd left him in 
the first place. She leaned forward, and they embraced, both of them 
crying softly, but nobody said a word.

In the next several days, Dawn and Nathan settled into life in the house. 
Because of all the people already there, things were a little crowded, 
and had to be rearranged, but nobody grumbled about it. Nathan was 
excited to get to know all his relatives, and to wander about getting to 
see all the people in the facility. Dawn rarely let him out of her sight, 
however, and didn't like him to toddle off too far.

She was with him in the study when Kim stopped by, looking for Ron. She 
paused for a moment, watching them interact, as Nathan was looking at 
flash cards and telling his mother what was on them. Dawn looked up 
abruptly.

"Who are you?" she said suspiciously.

Kim blushed slightly. "Excuse me. I am Kimberly. Everyone here calls me 
Kim. I was looking for Ron."

"Well, Kimberly," Dawn said, emphasizing the use of her full name, "He's 
not here, obviously. You're another one of them, aren't you?" Dawn's eyes 
flashed accusingly.

"Excuse me? One of whom?"

"Like Ron."

"Oh. Yes, I am a psionic. I am leading one of the units under Ron's 
command." The emotions present in her voice were not lost on Dawn.

"So, he's ensnared you, too, huh? Geez, I thought he only fucked his 
family."

Kim grew crimson at that remark. "Ron and I have not... 'had relations'. 
Although I'm not... I mean... I..." Kim stopped, her statement just wouldn't 
come out right. She tried another tack: "I love your brother. I wish to 
be with him. Does that bother you?"

"Do what you like," Dawn spat back. "I can't stop you, anyway. Nobody can 
stop you people. If I tell you not to be with my brother, you'll just 
force me to accept it, anyway. Not that I care if you're with him or 
not."

"Actually, Dawn," Kim tried, "I don't have the abilities to control 
people that your brother does. I am only a third-order adept... what I 
guess your brother would call a psion-14. I'm strong, but not nearly as 
powerful as your brother."

"Fine," Dawn harrumphed, "But, as you can see, he's not here. So, why 
don't you leave me and my child alone, so we can get back to his studies. 
He's all I've got left, and I'd like him to grow up knowing what the 
world is all about."

Without another word, Kim left the room, and Dawn returned to Nathan's 
cards, watching over him as he correctly identified the animals there. 
Too bad there's no way to show him what a psionic looks like. Then he 
could stay away from them. Ron was in the planning room when Kimberly 
caught up with him. Once again, he looked up in irritation at being 
interrupted, only to change his demeanor upon seeing who it was.

"What can I do for you, Kim?" he asked.

"Well, I wanted to give you today's readiness report... but there is 
another issue I think we need to discuss. However... Ron, this may appear 
to be speaking out of turn. It is not my place to tell you what to do on 
personal matters..." She let the sentence die.

Ron looked at her curiously for a moment, then said, "Hey, everyone else 
tells me what to do, you might as well throw your hat into the ring. 
What's up?"

"Ron, you need to do something about your sister, Dawn. She has... a... very 
unhealthy attitude toward you, and psionics in general. She still blames 
you, and all of us, for this whole mess. I fear that she is not entirely 
stable. And how she might raise Nathan..."

"You let me worry about Nathan. As to Dawn... well, she was here the first 
time the Russians attacked. She didn't deal with it well. I guess the 
last three months have been rough on her, and... well, just give her some 
time. She should come around."

"Perhaps if you gave her a little... 'encouragement'?" Kimberly asked, 
suggesting a little bit of mind-alteration. She did not expect the heated 
response this generated.

"Absolutely not! I can't... no, I won't, do that to her. I'm sorry I ever 
messed with her in the first place! If I could ever undo what I've done 
to her, or my mom, I would, in a heartbeat! You know," he said, calming 
somewhat, "They're the only two family members I ever messed with, except 
for my... uh... 'slaves'." Ron still didn't understand why he was embarrassed 
about that in front of Kim. "Nikki, Tammy, Linda... they all came to me. I 
mean, I'm sure I unconsciously did something to them... but there's nothing 
I can do about that sort of thing. I undid my programming on Nancy when 
she left: I hear she's found a nice man and settled down... as much as one 
can settle down in a war zone. No, I will not mess around inside my 
sister's head. God, how I wish this whole thing had never begun in the 
first place!" Ron slumped back into his chair.

Kimberly instinctively reached for him, placing her hand on top of his 
without any conscious thought. "Ron, you've done the best you could. Most 
guys - I've seen it happen - they go a little berserk when they realize 
they have the power. You... have shown remarkable restraint. And, with a 
few exceptions, everyone you have been with is a happy person."

Ron's eyes thanked her for her words, though he said nothing. She 
reluctantly removed her hand and straightened. "I think the readiness 
report can wait. I'll be in my room if you need me." Before he could say 
anything, she turned on her heel and strode out of the room. I wonder if
he's ever confided that to anyone else.

Ron had finished his duties for the day, having sent off a few more recon 
teams and worked out a new idea for defense. He was mentally tired, but 
his body was restless, having been stuck indoors all day long without any 
ability to move around or loosen up. Now he was walking through the 
house, trying to make sure everything was buttoned up for the night. He 
had guards posted, of course, but he always felt the need to make one 
final check of things for himself before he settled into his room and 
tried to sleep.

Sleep was something that was hard in coming for Ron lately. The war was 
going badly, he was losing a lot of psionics, and he didn't even want to 
think about the number of normals already dead. He wondered if there 
would be anyone alive to appreciate their victory, assuming they won this 
war.

He paused outside the door to each bedroom in the family's part of the 
house, checking mentally to see that everyone was settled. He paid 
special attention to Dawn's room, but he felt that both she and Nathan 
were sound asleep and resting comfortably. He worried about what Kim had 
said, that Dawn was not recovering as he had hoped she might. But he 
wasn't about to go rummaging through her mind again. He'd done enough of 
that to her already.

He worked his way along the hall, noting that Linda and Kim were still 
talking quietly in their room. He did not listen in, but moved down the 
hall. He stopped when he came to his mother's room, for her door was 
open.

He looked in, and saw her reading a book by her bedside lamp. She was 
lying on the bed in a robe that stopped above her knees, for her swollen 
belly took up much of the fabric. When she realized he was there, she 
looked up and smiled.

"Hi, baby. I've been waiting for you. Can we talk for a minute?" Ron 
stepped into the room, instinctively knowing to close the door. He moved 
over to the bed as his mother slid over slightly, making room for him to 
sit down.

"What's up, Mom?"

"Ron, Linda was talking to Kim earlier. You know how us girls are, we 
don't keep secrets. She said you were unhappy with the things that you've 
done to us."

Ron had not expected that conversation to have repercussions. He should 
have known better. He had not asked Kim not to mention it, and he knew 
that the girls in the house discussed everything that went on. It didn't 
surprise or annoy him that Kim had felt the need to talk to someone about 
it; he just wished that he'd been expecting it.

"Mom... I should never have started this whole thing. I mean, messing with 
you and Dawn, then fiddling with Jessica, Kumiko... look how many people 
I've hurt over my own selfishness." He bowed his head, thinking of all 
that had happened in the last few years.

His mother sat quietly for a few moments, then said, "I notice you didn't 
mention Nikki..."

He looked up, his face reddening in embarrassment. "Uh... well, that's 
because I never... um... 'messed' with Nikki in that way. I never told you 
how that started... and I'm not supposed to tell you, even though it hardly 
matters anymore."

His mother nodded, understanding that he'd made a promise, and he 
wouldn't break that promise, especially not one to his little sister. She
studied him for a moment. "And Linda? Nancy? Tammy?"

"Well, Linda... I didn't have to change. Nancy's not here anymore, so I 
don't think about her a lot... and Tammy... well, I never really did much to 
Tammy that she didn't want done anyway." He smiled, remembering back to 
Tammy's nervous admission that she was interested in his sister. He had 
later delved into her mind and found that she had, in fact, harbored 
those feelings for his sister, but would not have acted on them without 
his prompting. All in all, he felt this was one of his more worthy uses 
of power. "To tell you the truth, Mom, I'm not very proud of myself. I've
done an awful lot of things I shouldn't have done."

Sandra understood her son this evening. He was having feelings of regret 
because he knew that things he'd done had turned out badly for others. 
But some things hadn't, and she needed to set him straight on those.

"Ron, honey, I know you think that you messed me up, that somehow I've 
become a... oh, I don't know what you may think to call me. But sweetheart, 
I'm happy the way I am. You know, back when you told me what you did, I 
tried to figure out if I really cared that I'm not who I used to be. Then 
I realized that the old me was stressed out, frazzled, tense, and 
miserable most of the time. Since you've been taking care of things... 
well, there have been a few bad moments, but for the most part, I live a 
peaceful and quiet life. I'm a lot happier now. Your father's gone, so I 
don't have to worry about that abuse, and you're here to protect us from
everything else. And, best of all, you've given me another child: a small
life to care for. Ron, maybe... I don't know, but maybe all of what you've
done wasn't all bad. Personally, I wouldn't change a thing about our new
relationship." She reached out, and pulled him into her arms. He went
willingly, seeking the comfort that she offered.

He felt her hands run across his back, massaging the knots of tension she 
felt there. Her fingers danced across his skin, trying to soothe the 
tired muscles. She kissed him softly on the cheek, until he turned his 
face to her and their lips met, pressing lightly to each other. Her hands 
worked up to his shoulders, and then she pushed him away, gently.

As he looked at her quizzically, she turned her body and pressed him 
firmly but slowly back onto the bed. "Now," she whispered, "I'm going to 
show you just how happy I am with the arrangement." Her hands slid across 
his chest, moving to the zipper of his uniform jumpsuit. Slowly she 
pulled it down, revealing his chest beneath. Her free hand slipped 
inside, running over his muscular chest, lightly teasing his nipples.

Finally, the zipper completed its journey, and his mother then pushed the 
jumpsuit apart, forcing it off his shoulders. Ron had no choice but to 
help her, sitting up slightly to get the garment off his arms. She 
continued pulling on it, forcing it down his hips. She left it bunched at
his feet, not wanting to bother with the damnable boots he wore these 
days. She slid back up his legs, her breasts and enlarged stomach sliding 
seductively along his skin, nightie or not. She pulled gingerly at his 
briefs, and he lifted his hips as she drew them off. They joined his 
pants at his ankles, and then she sat up on her knees, and removed her
nightgown. She paused for a moment when she saw his eyes roaming her 
form. Even in her extremely pregnant state, she knew he found her 
arousing. That was evident by his growing erection.

To take care of that issue, Sandra bent back down and gently took his 
engorged member into her small hand. She moved her fingers softly along 
its length, and lightly kissed the very tip. She felt it twitch in her 
hand, and smiled. She let her tongue slip out of her mouth and roll over 
the entire head of his dick before retreating back behind her lips. She 
looked up momentarily to see that Ron had closed his eyes, his breathing 
heavy. She knew he was not asleep, as much as he might look it.

She returned her attention to his shaft, slipping the head between her 
lips, and sliding it into her warm mouth. She slipped down some distance, 
and then pulled her mouth completely off his prick. She felt his upper 
body move, and knew he was curious as to what she was doing. Again, her 
head dipped, and his cock slid between her lips, but again, she pulled 
all the way off. He was watching with interest now.

Sandra continued this treatment for some time, but then she sat up, once 
again giving Ron a full view of her distended belly and swollen breasts. 
Seeing the look on his face, she said, "I just wanted you hard. I know 
you're tired. Let me do the work tonight."

As his head lay back on the pillow, she shuffled forward on her knees 
until her pussy was resting on his rigid dick. She took his dick in hand 
as she lifted herself upward, and she placed his head at the entrance to 
her cunt. She let her ass drop, slowly, down to his hips, impaling 
herself fully on his cock. She mewled in pleasure, and he sighed with the 
feeling of it.

Sandra ground her pubes in small circles, keeping full contact between 
her clit and his body. She leaned forward slightly, resting her weight 
onto her arms, and looking into Ron's eyes. She saw the love he felt for 
her there. His hands moved to caress her abdomen, where their child was 
growing. The child moved slightly, and they both felt it immediately. 
Ron's hands massaged that skin, tracing light circles with his fingertips 
that sent shivers down Sandra's spine. Finally, his hands moved to her 
breasts, which had grown to an impressive size with her pregnant state. 
Knowing that she was very tender in these areas, Ron kept his touch light 
and soft. It was still enough to highly arouse his mother, who was 
moaning with his touch, and grinding herself harder into his crotch.

Suddenly, Sandra couldn't take any more of this, and she began moving on 
his prick. Her swollen body moved slowly, but passionately, against his 
as he continued to massage her tits. Her cunt slipped along his entire 
length with each stroke, nearly pulling off him more than once. Ron's 
excitement was high now. He began thrusting back into her, and his hands 
moved still tenderly, but making more contact now. When he sensed her 
legs were beginning to cramp from their current position, he immediately 
lifted them both into the air and assumed the responsibility of motion.

Sandra had not been treated to this sexual pleasure in a while, and she 
sunk back into the sensation of floating, as if being nuzzled by a cloud. 
She was tilted onto her back, and Ron was almost standing, though some 
feet above the floor. He took hold of her hips, and began sliding
into her, keeping the pace she had begun. His extension reached across 
her breasts, sliding around, over and between them. She moaned when she 
felt the sensation.

Ron pumped into his mother more rapidly now, their noises filling the 
room. As she was approaching her orgasm, he spun her around, so she was 
now face-down, and he was pounding her from behind. He had barely missed 
a beat when he did this, and it thrilled his mother to feel the spinning 
sensation in her pussy. He reached down and fondled her breasts again, 
letting his extension stray down to toy with her clit.

Sandra finally screamed out her orgasm, writhing amidst her son's 
embraces. Her pussy rippled along her son's dick throughout her orgasm, 
and he kept slamming into her, fucking her for all she was worth. It 
prolonged her orgasm, and she thrashed her head about with the pleasure. 
Finally, her climax eased, and Ron slowed his pace somewhat, but he did 
not stop. He pulled her up to him, his chest pressed against her back, 
his dick still mostly buried within her velvet glove of flesh.

"I love you, Mom," Ron whispered in her ear.

"I love you, too, honey," his mother responded breathlessly. "But I 
thought I was supposed to be doing the work?"

Ron chuckled lightly. "I can't let a pregnant woman do all the work. You 
raised me better than that."

Still feeling his erect member in her cunt, she smiled wickedly and said, 
"I seem to still have you raised, sweetheart." She pulsed her muscles 
against his shaft. "How shall we deal with this problem?" Before he could 
answer, she had lifted herself off his cock, and spun herself around. She 
had long ago learned how to move within his extension, so that she could 
actively participate in these sessions. She slid herself down... or was she 
sliding him up? She didn't bother to find out. Once her mouth was level 
with his dick, she slid it between her waiting lips.

This time, she did not tease him. Her tongue and lips worked in 
conjunction, sliding over the flesh of his cock. She sucked him all the
way into her mouth, and then slid back up his shaft, letting her tongue 
make contact throughout. Her pace quickened, sending shivers throughout
Ron's body. She allowed her teeth to make very light contact with his 
skin, and he grunted at the new sensation. Her mouth was pistoning along
his length now.

Ron could take only so much pleasure, and then he let loose. His cum 
burst forth from his balls, and spilled into his mother's mouth. She kept 
sucking him, swallowing as rapidly as possible. Her lips worked him over 
until she'd collected every last drop and ushered it down her throat. Her 
tongue slid over his length, cleaning as it went, until her mouth slipped 
off his dick. She let her tongue slide over any missed areas, and then 
kissed his shaft tenderly.

Ron moved them both slowly over to the bed. His extension removed his 
boots and clothing before he settled them both down onto the bed, where 
they lay quietly, his mother's back pressed against him, his arm draped 
over her. They slept in that position, and for the first time in a long 
time, Ron had a dreamless night's sleep.

Ron was rudely awakened the next morning by a hand roughly shaking his 
shoulder. He was very tempted to blast whoever it was across the room 
with his extension, but figured he should find out who it was first. He 
opened his eyes.

Cindy stared back at him with some trepidation, for she knew he didn't 
like to be roused from a sound sleep. She also knew he had not had such a 
sleep in a long time, and liked waking him even less for the knowledge.

"I'm sorry to wake you, Master, but Lars said it was urgent." Lars would 
not dare come in here himself. Not into a room where one of Ron's girls 
might not be properly attired. Ron mumbled something about getting up, 
and Cindy quickly departed.

As Ron got out of bed, he looked again at his mother, her sleeping form 
lying peacefully, her chest moving with her breaths. Ron dressed himself 
silently; a task made easier by the use of kinetic power. He left the 
room without so much as a kiss, lest he disturb her sleep. He knew she 
needed it as much, if not more, than he did. He stalked the hallways of 
his home, moving toward the den, where he knew Lars would be waiting. He 
found Kim and Karen waiting with him.

"This had better be good," was all Ron said to them.

"We received a message, about twenty minutes ago, that the President 
wishes to see you as soon as possible," Lars said simply.

"The bastard wants me to fly all the way to D.C.? Why?"

"Actually, sir," Karen threw in quickly, "Shelly tells me he's in Irving, 
Texas today. Some kind of campaign thing."

"Hmph," Ron muttered. "Well, at least it's not all that far from here, 
Kim, you want to tag along on this one? It'll at least get us out of the 
house." Kim had been kept on a short leash by Susan, who feared that she 
was not yet fully healed.

"Sure!" she said, a little too enthusiastically. For some reason, the 
only person who didn't catch the implication was Ron.

"Okay. We'll leave in... oh, a half hour, I guess. I need to eat something 
if we're going to fly down there."

"You sure that's wise, Ron?" Lars asked.

"I've been cooped up in this damned house too long. The last mission I 
went on was that damned failed raid, and that was three weeks ago! I need 
to get out and move around. And, Susan's caution be damned, if we don't 
get Kim back into the action soon, she's going to get as rusty as I am!"

No one dared argue with those points, both because Ron's anger was 
showing again, and because he happened to be right. He left the room to 
go find his breakfast. As soon as he left, Kim couldn't bring herself to 
look at either of the other people in the room. She kept her eyes averted 
as she, too, departed. Is his concern merely for my military capability, 
or does he really care? Dammit, I still can't tell!

The flight down to Irving was completely uneventful. Ron and Kim were 
able to survey the damage that had been done to this part of the country 
along their trip route, and they noted with despair that only the 
smallest towns in this area were untouched. Most cities had some kind of
damage, and the bigger cities were completely wiped out.

Belarev watched the two psionics fly away from the headquarters building. 
He was several blocks from the facility, hidden inside a house. He and 
his men had worked hard at positioning themselves in the city without 
being discovered. However, with the amount of psionic energies 
concentrated in this area, they realized it was unlikely that they would 
be recognized before they took action. He sent a swift message to Sakov, 
his partner.

<One hour, Sasha.>

<Understood, tovarishch. We will succeed.>

Ron and Kim landed a hundred yards away from the parked Secret Service 
vehicles, visible from a considerable distance as they were the only 
vehicles that looked as though they'd been washed in the last six months. 
Ron and Kim approached, basically ignoring the Secret Service detail, 
walking right to the President. They were both somewhat curious as to the 
surprised expression on his face.

Ron came to full, rigid attention. "General Chaffey, reporting as 
ordered, sir!" Ron barked in his best grown-up voice.

<Now, Dmitri!> Sakov's message blared in Belarev's mind. The Filitov 
Council's forces emerged from the local buildings surrounding the PPA 
base, and converged. Four hundred troops commenced an assault on a base 
with no more than one hundred fighting troops. All the rest were either 
on patrol or in battle elsewhere. The Filitov Council had made sure that 
many small skirmishes were going on at this time, to keep the PPA numbers 
small.

The first shot was fired by Belarev himself. He took out the guards at 
the front gate before they even had a chance to shout a warning. It would 
not have mattered.

The President looked at him in curiosity for a moment, and then said, "I 
didn't send for you."

"What?" Ron queried in confusion.

"I didn't send for you. I don't have any need to speak with you at this 
time... unless you have new information for me. And I figure if you did, 
you'd have given it to me already. No, General, I have no reason to 
distract you from your work."

"Then what... We received a message saying you wanted to speak to me ASAP... 
Who would..." Ron looked at Kim, and Kim looked back, and both of them said 
at the same time: "The house!"

"Jesus fucking Christ!" Ron swore. "We've got to get going. Um, sorry, 
Mr. President, for the disturbance. I believe I am needed elsewhere." 
Without another word, or even waiting for a reply, both he and Kim took 
to the sky, moving at their maximum velocity for home. Now that they were 
focused on it, they could feel the attack happening already. Both of them 
tried to push even harder, but there was only so much speed even a 
psionic could attain. It would take them an hour to get home.

And that hour turned out to be twenty minutes too long. Ron and Kim 
arrived home - or at what was left of home - long after the Filitov 
soldiers had left. The buildings were smoking ruins. Ron trudged into the 
debris, fearing the worst.

He found the family where they should be, at the back of the house in a 
small, protected room. It had not been protected well enough. The walls 
and ceiling were gone, only stubs of the wooden studs inside the walls 
remained. He looked around in shock, hoping to see all the important 
faces in his life. Some were not present, and he dared not dwell on what
that meant.

His immediate attention, however, was drawn to a prone body lying on the 
ground. Susan was kneeling over the body, hiding from Ron the piece of 
information he so desperately needed, and so horribly dreaded. As she 
stood and turned to him, her body continued to block the identity of this 
person. Susan shook her head sadly, and moved off. Ron quickly knelt to 
see...

It was Megan. Her breathing was labored, and her eyes were closed. He 
took her hand gently, and brushed her singed hair out of her face. Her 
eyes slowly opened, and they struggled to focus on his face. "Mas...ter..." 
she uttered quietly. "I'm...sor...ry."

Ron was weeping openly, the tears blurring his vision as he tried to 
speak, tried to say something, anything, to the girl before him. His 
throat was constricted, and his words would not come.

<You have not failed me, Megan. You have done well.> He didn't have any 
clue what had happened at the house, but he was certain it wasn't her 
fault. He took some joy in seeing the expression on her face clear, if
only momentarily.

"I... love... you... Ron." It was the very first, and last, time she would ever 
call him by his real name. Her eyes faded, and closed, and her breathing 
stopped. There was nothing more anyone could do for her, except weep, and 
this Ron did.

"Linda was hurt, but not badly. She twisted her ankle when Megan pushed 
her down. Had Megan not acted, it would have been Linda's life." Karen 
was relaying the report as professionally as she could, but Ron could 
still feel the grief, the anger, and the hurt that poured off of her. He
also felt her shame, as unwarranted as it was, at having failed her
leader. He nodded for her to go on.

"Cindy was very severely injured. She's under Susan's care now, and we're 
not sure if she's going to survive. Jill suffered only minor injuries, 
but she was instrumental in keeping the civilians calm and coordinated. 
Your mother is fine, as are both babies... Linda may be going into labor 
sometime later today... and I wouldn't be a bit surprised if your mother 
followed her. It would be a little premature for Sandra, but not 
dangerously so. Tammy is distraught, but unhurt. Nathan ran and hid when
the attack happened, we just found him a few minutes ago, and he doesn't
appear to have been injured." Ron knew she had been giving the "good" 
news first, which meant that the bad news was... something he didn't want 
to hear. But he had to.

"Okay, out with it," he ordered.

Karen opened her mouth, and then closed it again. She tried once more, 
and failed. Finally she managed, "There are some... MIAs." Ron's blood ran 
colder than arctic ice. His eyes narrowed, and burned.

He said merely, "Who?" It was not a question so much as an order.

"Dawn... and... Nikki." Karen feared Ron's wrath, she expected to see his 
rage. What she had not expected was to see... nothing. She could discern no
emotion at all in Ron's countenance. His body went completely slack, 
though he remained standing. It was as if something inside of him had 
turned off, and Karen wondered just what she had witnessed. But he did 
not give her time to ask; he left the room without another word, his 
movements stiff, almost mechanical.

Ron wandered about, not seeing or hearing anything that happened around 
him. He found himself down with the civilians, in the shelter. Jill had 
done a marvelous job to get everyone collected into the safe area. It was 
not her fault that some had not had a chance to get here, but she was 
taking it hard anyway. Ron was too deeply into shock to be of any comfort 
to her, and his words of praise were hollow at best. He moved off, amid 
the people, still not really focusing on what was happening around him.

Now, it is a foolish person indeed who comes after a psionic twice. But 
grief makes for foolish actions. The man who had complained during the 
relocation of Tammy charged at Ron, gripping him by the shoulders. Ron 
was so out of it that he made no immediate move.

"My niece is dead! This place was supposed to be safe! How can you call 
yourself a leachhkkkk-" the man's voice was choked off by Ron's hand 
encircling his throat. Ron's fingers squeezed tighter, and he used his 
extension to lift the man off the ground, but still by the throat. The
man's face turned a very unhealthy purple color.

Ron spoke, and the voice was one from the grave. "You lost a niece? 
Today, I have already lost one dear lady, and I face losing another. I 
have a lady injured, and pregnant. And I have two missing sisters. Would 
you care to compare our grief, comrade?" The use of the normally-Soviet 
term shook the man almost as much as the rest of the speech had. He 
understood the implicit threat: challenge the authority here, and you 
would be left to the Russians, unprotected and alone. The man shook his 
head, but Ron's fingers tightened their grip. The man was about to pass 
out from lack of oxygen.

Suddenly, Kim was beside Ron, her hand on his arm. She had witnessed the 
entire event, and the sudden break from shock to rage scared her. She 
knew that, at this very moment, Ron was not sane.

"Ron, don't do this. I know, I know you are upset, and hurt, and angry, 
but this man is not your target! I know you long to hurt someone, but you 
will regret what this will do to you! Please! You don't really want to do 
this."

Somehow, Kim's words penetrated the dense fog of anger clouding Ron's 
judgment. It was as if someone had turned on a bright lamp, and the fog 
dissipated, fearing the light of reason. Ron took one more look at the
man in his grasp, and tossed him to the floor. The man landed a good ten
feet from where Ron stood. Ron's words were nearly a whisper. "Don't come 
near me ever again." The man nodded vigorously as he backed away, still 
on the floor.

Ron turned to Kim. She expected him to either chastise her or thank her 
for stopping him, but though his rage was gone, Kim feared that his 
sanity had not yet returned, for the look in his eyes was one only of
anguish. He didn't speak to her, and she feared for the thoughts that 
were running through his head. Feared not for herself, but for Ron, 
because it was clear that he was losing control of himself.

Ron walked past her, out of the room, and she hurried to follow him. He 
reached the ground level of the house, and walked past his family, who 
stared, dumbstruck, as Ron moved almost robotically, not even 
acknowledging their presence. Kim stood with them as they all stared in 
disbelief as he walked out the front door and down the walk, eventually 
disappearing around a corner. He had uttered not a word, but they all 
knew instinctually not to follow. Their real concern was that they didn't 
know when - or if - he would be back.

Ron wandered aimlessly, without concern or consideration for where he 
placed his steps. His mind continued to keep him safe, but no thoughts or 
line of reasoning came into his consciousness. He stared ahead, 
unthinking and barely aware of his surroundings. He walked for the rest 
of the day, and well into the night. At some point, he stopped, and sat 
down against a tree. Whether he slept, or simply was unaware of the 
passage of time, he couldn't tell.

Ron's departure threw both the family, and the PPA, into chaos. Lars had 
a long argument with Lt. Saunders about whether or not to inform the 
President about Ron's departure, which resulted in Lars threatening her
with mental manipulation, and her confining herself to her own quarters. 
Kim was utterly inconsolable, for she felt that she was somehow 
responsible for Ron's departure. Though even Lars told her that this had 
been a long time coming, she didn't believe it in her heart.

"Sandy, how could I have done that? How could I have yelled at him at a 
time like this?"

Jill had related the event to the rest of the family with remarkable 
clarity, and so Sandra was perfectly aware of the event about which Kim 
was speaking. "Kim, you didn't yell at him. You prevented him from 
killing someone. That's not why he left, anyway."

"Then why? We need him!"

"I don't think even he knows why he walked away, Kim. I think the strain 
of being in command, on top of all of his other responsibilities, finally 
was too much for him." Sandra was working mightily at controlling her own 
emotions, for her son was out there, and out there was where people were 
dying, and he shouldn't be there alone, and someone should have stopped 
him from leaving, but they all knew better than to do that, and why 
didn't she say something before he left, and... Both women wept in each 
other's arms.

The next day for Ron was very much like the end of the first. He arose at 
some point after dawn, feeling neither rested nor fatigued. He felt... 
nothing. His body moved on, his eyes kept him out of trouble, but his 
thoughts were empty. He had not dreamed the previous night, and even now 
his mind would allow only a single thought, and that only rarely, before 
it would once again slip back into utter silence and despair. He walked 
on, now into the countryside. He had no idea where he was going, or even 
why. He only knew that he was walking. One foot forward, then the other. 
Arms swung as pendulums, eyes traced back and forth to watch for trouble. 
The sun moved, and Ron walked. He stopped once, for water, but he ate 
nothing. And on he walked.

For the next few days, the PPA headquarters was busy with re-establishing 
order. Much had been lost in the attack, but not very many people. There 
hadn't been a large number of soldiers at the HQ, and the civilians had 
not been easy targets, thanks to the shelter Ron had constructed. Lars 
was running himself ragged, trying to put things back together without 
his leader. He would never have admitted to anyone just how much he 
needed Ron at this moment, but Karen knew anyway.

<<We need him back, baby,>> she said.

<<Yes. But not in the condition he was in when he left. We can only hope 
that he discovers whatever he is looking for, and returns to us before it 
is too late.>>

<<Can we win without him?>>

<<I doubt it. I wasn't sure we were going to win with him, but I'm damned 
sure that we can't do it without his leadership. We're going to give it 
our best damned shot, though.>>

<<Maybe we should go look for him?>>

<<Pointless. He could be anywhere by now, and none of the trackers have 
been able to locate him.>> Lars had immediately given two orders after 
taking charge: Follow Ron mentally, and keep an "eye" on the President. 
They didn't need another misdirection like the one that had caused this 
mess. But Ron had proved impossible to track. The trackers never gained 
contact with him, which was strange, for they had always been able to 
know instantly where their leader was at all times. No one understood 
what that meant, and few dared to speculate.

On and on Ron wandered, passing farms and houses. He had wandered through 
two villages in the first week, but spoke to no one. The look on his face 
did not encourage people to greet him, but they did give him food. It was 
the only application he made of his Ability, and he wasn't conscious of 
doing it. His mind was keeping him alive. For what purpose, he didn't 
bother to guess. Perhaps it wished to punish him further for his follies.

His mind was once again regaining the capacity for thought, but it was a 
dark, abysmal pit that arose, his thoughts emerging from the deepest, 
inkiest recesses of his psyche, goading him forward, pushing him onward. 
Toward what, he did not know.

A week after Ron disappeared, the PPA soldiers regrouped into larger 
units, and left the headquarters compound. Each unit was independently 
led, and Lars would remain with the small planning team to try to 
coordinate their efforts on a nationwide scale. The units moved off, out 
of the city and into the countryside. The PPA was now in hiding.

Kim, along with a few other select officers, were left to guard the 
civilians and Ron's family at the remains of the house. They all spent 
some time trying to clean things up, until they realized that was 
impossible, and the family moved down into the shelter with the others. 
By now, Cindy had also passed away, beyond Susan's ability to heal her. 
Linda had given birth to a perfectly healthy baby girl with bright blue 
eyes and the cutest little nose. They had managed to hold back Sandra's 
labor, for it would be better for the child to be born in a couple more 
weeks.

Kim was working "topside", as they had started calling the above-ground 
area of their home, trying to salvage anything that might have been of 
use. It was now two weeks since Ron had left. She was sorting through 
what had once been a storage room, when she felt a wisp of something 
brush by her leg. She ignored it, and continued searching.

When she stood back up and turned around, she nearly dropped what she was 
carrying. Sitting before her was the large - she had never seemed so 
large - white cougar. Kim swallowed twice to get her heart started again.

"Jessica! You startled me!" Kim went to walk around her, but the cat 
blocked her way. She stepped in the other direction, but the mountain 
lion was obstinate, and would not let her pass.

"What is it, Jessica?" Kim found this unusual, because she, like the rest 
of the family, was still not aware of who the cougar really was. The cat 
looked over its shoulder, and Kim glanced that way as well. She saw 
nothing, but she quickly realized that they were looking in the exact 
direction that Ron had left.

Kim's blood ran cold. She knew that animals were capable of sensing 
things that people could not. She depended on this as a Hunter for the 
ShadowDragon, often when she was trying to find someone in a forest, she 
would pay attention to the animal sounds, to forewarn her of other human 
presence. If this mountain lion was trying to tell her about Ron, then 
something bad had probably happened.

"Ron? Is it Ron?" she asked the cat, not really expecting an answer. The 
animal sat down again, and did a credible impression of nodding its head 
in the affirmative. "You want me to go with you." Not a question, but 
again the cat answered yes. "Okay. Let me tell the others I'm leaving."

The cat followed her down into the shelter, and Kim found the family. 
"Sandy, I'm going after Ron."

Linda, who was nursing her new daughter, said, "Are you crazy? You'll 
never find him!"

"Kim," Sandra started, "We don't want to lose you, too."

"I have to go, Sandy. Jessica thinks something is wrong. I know this 
sounds crazy, but I think she can lead me to him."

Sandra was quiet for a moment. Although she didn't know the truth, she 
knew that the cat and Ron had a special bond of some kind, and it was 
certainly possible that the cougar could find him. "Be careful, Kim. 
Bring him back to us."

The three of them hugged, and then Jessica led Kim out of the shelter. 
Kim knew that Jessica could travel faster than Kim could walk, so she 
decided to fly instead. As Kim lifted off, Jessica began moving at an 
easy lope, moving along the same path Ron had two weeks previous. As they
left, Jill watched them go, and wished them luck. Bring him back to us, 
Kimberly. Please.

Hidden inside a forested area several hundred miles away, Lars and the 
command staff of the PPA were struggling to hold together what was left 
of their forces. Though they still had thousands of troops, they were now 
divided into many smaller units, and were more easily defeated.

Lars, who was faced with command of what he felt to be a sinking ship, 
was bowing under the strain. He was not ready for this level of command, 
and he felt that he was letting the soldiers down.

"Sir, we have reports in from some of our field units," said a junior 
officer, acting as a communicator.

Lars almost sighed audibly, but caught himself. "Very well, let's have 
it."

"Three companies were engaged yesterday, Baker, Tango, and Zulu. Baker 
Company held up pretty well, but Tango and Zulu lost with heavy 
casualties. Zulu Company is RTB as a non-functional unit, sir."

"Damn. Anything else?"

"Uh... yes, sir. There is a report here from the MASH unit that Colonel 
Chandler has gone missing, sir."

"WHAT?" Lars bellowed. The young lieutenant cringed, but carried on with 
his report.

"There was an attack on the MASH unit directly last night. Right after 
the battle, Colonel Chandler could not be found. A search has not turned 
up her body, either. Sir, she either deserted, or she was captured."

"Fuck me," the General said to himself. "Very well. I will send Colonel 
Pritchart over to fill in until we figure out what happened to Susan. Is 
there anything further?"

"No, sir, that's all... oh, one other thing." Lars' eyes darkened, but the 
officer carried on quickly. "Apparently Kimberly has left HQ in search of 
Ron. She is in the company of the white cat." The officer did not 
understand why the General's eyes widened at that comment.

"Shit! Why the fuck didn't I think of that?" Lars, of course, was aware 
of who Jessica was, but had agreed not to tell the family. That Jessica 
would easily be able to locate Ron was something so simple as to be 
overlooked. He cursed himself for the oversight. "Very well. She went
alone?"

"Yes, sir."

"I hope she's careful. Dismissed, lieutenant." The officer came to 
attention and saluted before departing. Good luck, Kimmie. And be 
careful.

Lars needn't have worried: Kimberly was very cautious in her journey. She 
avoided all human contact, for she had brought food and water with her. 
She stayed in the wooded areas where possible, and she stayed off roads. 
Of course, her path was mainly dictated by the puma, but Jessica 
understood intuitively the need for secrecy.

The pair traveled on for several days. It was monotonous, and somewhat 
tiring, at least to Kimberly. The cat never seemed to get tired, although 
she did curl up next to Kim at night when they slept. Kim wondered if 
this wasn't more to protect her than to give the cat rest. I hope we find 
Ron soon.

She was, in fact, closer to him than she could guess. Only a mile away, 
but he would walk throughout this night. His mind was functioning again, 
but it focused on the blackness of the world around him. Whole cities 
were destroyed; the countryside was laid bare; people were dying in the 
millions; the United States was being devastated.

And it's all your fault, slick. You should have been able to stop it. And 
his sisters were missing. This is where his thought patterns formed into 
something as far beyond despair as ecstasy is beyond contentment. His 
wonderful sisters were now in the hands of the enemy. Were this a movie, 
very bad things would be happening to them. He didn't want to contemplate 
what the truth of the matter might be. Instead, he walked on, running 
from something that had already raced before him, and come back to walk 
alongside of him, keeping him company in the way of such things. It had 
been nearly three weeks, and he was weak, and his gait faltered now and 
again as he stumbled over a root or stone. He barely noticed as his body 
automatically corrected, and he walked on.

Upon waking, Kimberly had to remember where she was, and why her pillow 
was furry and breathing. Once she regained that bit of information in her 
head, she stretched out. Jessica immediately moved away from her, and sat 
down, waiting for her to finish her morning rituals.

Having taken care of the activities that are rather unpleasant when in 
the woods, Kim sat down to eat her breakfast, such as it was. She was 
running low on food. She once more offered some to the cat, who declined 
even to sniff at it. Kim had never seen Jessica eat. She ate her meal in 
silence, and then stood up. Jessica moved off immediately, and Kim had to 
struggle a little to catch up with her. It was difficult to fly in the 
forest, what with low-hanging limbs and all the leaves and twigs and 
bushes.

The pair traveled, in three hours, the entire distance that had taken Ron 
ten to traverse. Jessica stopped abruptly, and Kim floated back to the 
ground, still not seeing Ron anywhere. The cat motioned, with her head, 
through a set of bushes. Kim moved quietly through them, and saw Ron 
standing, looking over the valley before him.

Ron thought the scene before him was familiar, and when he recognized it, 
a shiver ran down his spine. The morning fog, the green valley that 
rolled gently away from the ridge where he stood, the lack of sound, it 
reminded him too strongly of Kumiko's dream world. Though the bright 
sunlight beat on his back, his heart was engulfed in blackness. He fell 
to his knees, no longer able to walk. Staring off into the distance, he 
hoped for... what? As he had not eaten in the last four or five days, and
hadn't bothered drinking anything in over a day, it seemed as if he were 
hoping for death. But would death bring a conclusion to his struggle? No. 
For he had been told that all of his... followers... would be with him in the 
After Realms, and so he would have to face them sooner or later anyway.

He felt, more than saw, a presence beside him. He felt that presence 
kneel. Without seeing, he knew that something was being pressed to his 
lips, and he took it in, chewed it, and swallowed, without a single 
thought. If someone were poisoning him, would it really matter?

Kimberly choked back her own tears at seeing his condition. She had 
packed a special high-energy, high-nutrient meal for him, that she had 
not touched on her journey. Now, she fed it to him as quickly as he would 
take it in. His body was eager for the nourishment, and his mouth worked
without conscious intervention. It was a fairly large meal, and she was
astonished to see just how quickly his body recovered. She could actually
see a difference in him before she had even finished feeding him. She 
then gave him something to drink, which would replenish his fluids, and 
some other nutrients.

After she was finished giving him food and drink, she sat beside him for 
a while, hoping he would speak. He didn't. He didn't even acknowledge her 
presence. He simply sat there on the ground, his legs stretched out 
before him, his hands resting on his legs, his eyes unfocused and 
unseeing while his mind tormented itself over she knew not what.

It took the greatest amount of courage she had ever mustered, but she 
reached out and took his hand in hers. His hand was cold, in the winter 
weather, but the touch itself still held warmth.

<I am here. I am with you. I will not leave,> she said to him. That was 
all it took. The dam broke, and a heart-wrenching wail echoed across the 
valley below. Kim pulled him to her, hugging him tightly as he sobbed 
uncontrollably in her grasp. His body was shaking mightily, as if it were 
trying to tear itself apart. Kim held on throughout it all. Ron cried for 
nearly an hour, wearing himself out, and finally collapsing, exhausted, 
and she laid him in the grass to sleep. Jessica reappeared from wherever 
she had been, and lay down next to him. Kim moved off to collect some 
more food. They would both need it when he awoke.

Ron awoke around midday. Kim was sitting against a tree, watching over 
him. Jessica had once again disappeared into the forest. It was odd that 
the cat did not seem to want to be around Ron just now. Ron looked up at 
Kimberly, and attempted a smile. It was bleak, it was an utter failure, 
but it was the grandest smile she had ever seen, compared to the 
blankness on his face when she'd arrived.

He struggled to sit up, and she rushed over to help him. She stayed close 
to him for a while, and when she tried to move away, he wouldn't let go 
of her hand.

<Thank you,> he said.

<Don't mention it.>

<Without your help... well, I might have died right here.>

<I couldn't let that happen.> Ron didn't ask why she couldn't. At that 
point, conversation stopped again. He struggled to his feet with her 
help, and they walked down into the valley. They didn't say a word to 
each other, they merely walked, holding hands, down into the remains of a 
small village. The houses looked to be intact, so they didn't know why 
this town had been abandoned. For hours, they wandered from yard to yard, 
from store to store, looking for clues as to why the people left. As 
night fell, they were walking down a row of houses.

<Perhaps we should go in one,> Kimberly suggested.

<That would be trespassing.>

<Only if there's someone there to say so.>

<True, I suppose. Which one?>

<Preferably one with an unlocked door.> The first house they tried fit 
this criteria, and they went in. The power still worked, which they found 
odd, but for the time being, they set it aside. By unspoken consensus, 
they each found a bathroom and cleaned up a little, and then met in the 
kitchen. Ron slumped into a chair while Kim looked in the cupboards. She 
checked the stove, which worked, and so she cooked up a meal of chicken, 
rice, some beans, carrots, and some soda from the fridge. It wasn't the 
greatest, but it was fairly nutritious, and they both needed the energy.

The meal passed in silence. The two of them said little. Ron kept quiet 
because his thoughts were far too dark to share. Kim remained silent 
because she was still afraid to share her thoughts with him. She knew 
that she must, at some point, tell him, but was now the time?

After dinner, they cleaned up their mess, just in case someone was coming 
back, they didn't want to be seen as slobs. Then they walked through the 
house together, still holding hands. She wondered if Ron just wanted a 
lifeline to what he would consider the "normal" world, but she wasn't 
about to object.

After they had visited every room, they found themselves in the master 
bedroom. This was the only room with a mess. Dresser drawers were open, 
and clothes were tossed on the floor. It was apparent that whoever had 
lived here had left in a hurry, taking only some essentials with them. 
Ron sat down on the bed, while Kimberly wandered around the room, taking 
it in. She could feel his eyes on her as she moved. She turned to face 
him, to see what he would do. His eyes met hers, and stayed there. She 
moved to him, standing before him, not sure what was happening.

Her hands, almost of their own accord, moved out to touch his face. They 
moved slowly along his cheeks, and along the line of his chin. His hands 
came up to rest lightly on top of hers, and then she turned her hands 
outward, and their fingers interlaced, their hands palm-to-palm. The 
intensity of the energy now flowing between them was almost overwhelming.
Ron stood, slowly, bringing his eyes up to meet hers. There were mere
inches between their bodies, but their hands and eyes had already 
connected.

It was at this point that something deep within Ron emerged. 
It was something he had tried to bury, for it had hurt him time and 
again. He didn't want it there, but right now, at this moment, he needed 
for it to engulf him, to restore to him the strength to carry on. And he 
was aware that it had been released by this very precious woman before 
him.

He wasn't sure whether he leaned in, or Kim did, but however it happened, 
their lips met. Mental sparks flew as they shared their first kiss. Each 
mind reeled with the invading thoughts of the other. Kim was astonished 
to first see only blackness, but soon found that the wall crumbled 
quickly, and she was emerged in his essence, his very presence of being.

Ron was awash in Kim's love for him. She hid nothing in this embrace. It 
was as if he had fallen into a warm, buoyant ocean that enveloped him and 
carried him along. His doubts and worries, his cares and fears were drawn 
away from him; he was immersed in a wonderful, caring sea of emotion.

As their minds enmeshed, their kissing grew more passionate. Kim's tongue 
snaked its way into Ron's mouth, caressing his tongue and teeth. Their 
bodies had moved together, and they could feel the contact. Kim's breasts 
pressed firmly into Ron's chest, and the physical part of his mind 
marveled at just how good that felt. Kim could feel Ron's dick pressing 
into her, already fully erect.

Their minds continued to flow, back and forth, until the currents became 
one. Ron's strong emotions flowed into Kim's warmth and caring, and the 
two emerged as something both greater than, and wholly different from, 
either feeling. Both felt light as a cloud as their minds journeyed 
together, exploring each other's consciousness, as their bodies responded
to their interaction.

Ron lifted them off the floor, and both struggled to remove their own 
clothing. It proved impossible to do this without breaking contact, and 
so clothing was torn from bodies until they were both completely 
disrobed. Now, Ron felt her tits poking into him. They were hot and firm,
and they called for his mouth's attention almost as much as her lips did.

Kim was fully aware of Ron's erection, now resting against her abdomen 
and throbbing, wanting to be inside somewhere warm and wet. She was well 
beyond warm, and her juices were seeping down her leg. She broke their 
kiss only long enough to say, "Take me, Ron!" before her lips engulfed 
his once more.

It was no simple task to maneuver his lower body without moving his upper 
body, but Ron played a few kinetic tricks, and soon his cock was resting 
at the entrance to Kim's pussy. Her lips parted as he pressed into her, 
and she moaned into his mouth as she felt the head of his dick slip 
inside of her. He slid into her steadily, and she never felt any pain as 
his shaft finally filled her, taking her virginity at last. They paused
momentarily, as the physical sensations added to the mental glory, and 
the colors and patterns of their thoughts became more vivid, more 
vibrant.

Their bodies moved as one, Ron thrusting into her, and Kim pushing back 
to force him further inside. She finally threw her legs around his waist, 
making access much easier. The further body contact only heightened their 
awareness of each other. Soon they were rutting together, not as animals, 
but as a single animal, performing a single task. Their minds and their 
bodies had become one: even their extensions had merged to hold and move 
them. They began to turn in the air as they continued their coupling. 
Soon, they were turning fast enough to be a blur, but neither of them 
even noticed.

As they approached their climax, they broke their kiss as each cried out 
in ecstasy, joy and exhilaration. Ron bent down and, with the help of his 
extension, took one of her nipples into his mouth, wrapping his tongue 
around it and licking it aggressively. Kimberly screamed in pleasure. She 
used her extension to fondle his balls, and he groaned in delight.

As their bodies moved, their minds merged until neither could tell where 
one started and the other ended. They were, at that moment, a single 
being, feeling all the joy and pain, the hates and loves, the doubts and 
hopes of the other as if they were their own. The colors and patterns of 
these thoughts grew so brilliant that it was almost painful just to 
absorb the thought.

Finally, in an ultimate explosion of dazzling mental color, and with a 
visible spark of light, the pair came in a loud, mind-wrenching orgasm 
that, had they not been able to hold their extensions, would have flung 
them to opposite corners of the room. The sheer power of their joining 
was more than either of them could take, and each passed out in the 
other's arms, and fell unceremoniously to the bed, which was, luckily,
beneath them.

The two slept for nearly a day and a half. Their exhaustion, both 
physical and emotional, was so great that when they did awaken, neither 
was sure if it had actually occurred. It would have been easy to imagine 
it as a dream, if they were not laying in bed together, naked, with the 
remnants of their clothes lying on the floor.

Ron arose first, looking for and finding clothes that, with a little 
mental help, fit him well enough. Kimberly did likewise, grabbing a 
sundress from the closet that needed no alteration. They didn't speak 
until each had taken care of their physical needs, and had stepped 
outside to take in the morning. In an empty village. That thought 
hammered home to Ron, and his face darkened again.

"You shouldn't, you know." It was the first time either had actually 
spoken since Kim had found him.

"Shouldn't what?"

"Love me. Everyone who does gets hurt. I don't want you to get hurt."

Is it really that simple? He's been keeping his distance because he is 
scared? "Well, it's not something I went looking for. I fought it tooth 
and nail, and now that it's beaten me, I'm not going to try to fight it 
off again. So, whether I should or not, I love you, Ron."

"Yes. I can understand that, I guess. Very hard to keep fighting 
something as vicious as love."

"Yes."

"Oh, well. I guess we'll just have to admit it, then."

"Admit what?"

"That we're in love, and that neither of us can do anything about it." 
Her heart skipped a beat or four when he said that. It was the first time 
he'd admitted, even obliquely, that he had similar feelings. She'd felt 
as much during their... but until he consciously said it, it was somehow 
unreal.

"I don't want to lose you like this ever again. If you go running off, 
next time, take me with you."

He looked at her, and for the first time in weeks, he smiled. "Okay, 
Sweetheart. Whatever you say." He leaned in and kissed her, while his 
hand rested gently on her ass. She loved every microsecond of it.

When he broke the kiss, he had a curious expression on his face. "By the 
way, there is something that's been bugging me since... well, since I've 
actually been able to think rather than mope. Just how in the world did 
you find me?"

Jessica took that moment to stride around the corner of the house. 
Neither of them had known she was in the area. Kimberly just pointed. 
"She found you. I just followed."

"Fuck me!" Ron said, both in astonishment at the immediate thought that 
occurred to him, and frustration that it hadn't occurred to him three 
weeks ago.

"I believe I already did that, didn't I? Would you like me to do it 
again?" Kim responded seductively.

Ron looked at her, and in that moment realized that he had never loved 
someone so much as he did her at that moment. It was the kind of response 
he would have given. "Not right now... maybe later." 'Maybe' my ass... "I 
know how we can find the girls... but we need our own clothing before we go 
searching. Let's get home."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 5: As if things weren't bad enough

"Ron!" cried Jill, who was the first to see him enter the room. She ran 
to him and hugged him furiously, while Kim slipped off to find the rest 
of the family.

It had taken them only a few hours to get home, since they could now fly 
together, and in a direct route. Kim had worried about how the cat would 
get home, but Ron told her not to concern herself with Jessica. Sure 
enough, Jessica had been waiting for them when they'd arrived. This was 
Kim's first sign that the cat was not normal.

By the time Ron disentangled himself from Jill, the rest of the family 
was present, and many hugs were shared. Everyone was relieved to see him. 
And Linda had a surprise for him.

"You've lost a little weight," Ron said in fun.

"Tammy?" Linda called quietly. Tammy came over, carrying the baby, and 
put it in Ron's arms.

"I know you probably wanted a boy..." Linda began. Ron just looked at her 
and smiled.

"I didn't really care which it was, Linda, but she's beautiful!" He 
stared down at his new daughter, Mary Christine Chaffey. Well, there 
could be some dispute, legally, over that last name, but no one here 
would argue the point. Ron cuddled his daughter for several minutes, and 
no one objected, even though they wanted to know what had happened while 
he was gone. Kim tried to detach herself, not wanting to interfere, but 
Ron carried the baby directly to her, and she finally realized that she 
was, truly, a full-fledged part of the family now.

Finally, the baby started to fidget, and Ron handed it over to Tammy, who 
had imposed upon herself the job of helping Linda care for her. Ron could 
see the pain in Tammy's eyes, and he knew what it was from. Telling her 
was the easiest way to get the message out.

"Don't worry, Tams. I know how to find the girls, now." One little 
sentence, and the entire family nearly came unglued. There was a chorus 
of questions, and a lot of confusion. Ron noticed that the cougar, who 
had come into the room with them, was settled quietly in a corner. Ron 
tried to calm the group.

"Guys, guys! I can't answer you all at once. And, I need to apologize, 
because I should have thought of this three weeks ago." Now that he had 
everyone's attention, he could continue. "Jess! Come here, please." The 
big cat rose from its spot and padded over to her friend. "Kim, did you 
wonder how Jessica knew so precisely where I was?"

"I did find it a bit curious."

"Well, I know this is going to be hard for all of you to swallow, but 
this cat doesn't just remind me of our friend Jessica. She is our friend 
Jessica." He was getting blank stares, so he figured he'd better press 
on. "She's not reincarnated, or anything like that. She exists in the 
Spirit Realm, she keeps an eye on all of us. This," he said, indicating 
the cat before him, "Is just her physical form here on Earth. I know, I 
know, this is all whacked, but that's how it works."

It took a while before anyone could speak, but Tammy finally asked, "How 
does that help us find Nikki and Dawn?"

"See, where Jessica really is, there are a lot of people observing the 
Earth. They're called 'Watchers'. And I'm willing to bet they know 
exactly where the girls are. We just have to get them to tell us." Ron 
knew they weren't really "people", as such, but why confuse the issue?

"Well, how do we do that?" Sandra asked.

Ron turned to Jessica. "Jess? Can you ask them for me?" As he half-
expected, she shook her head in the negative. "Okay." To the rest of the 
family, he said, "Looks like I'm going back to the Spirit Realm. Remember 
when we tried to save Kumiko?" his voice almost didn't crack when he said 
that, which was an improvement, the others thought. "I went into the 
Spirit Realm then. I need to go again, to find Dawn and Nikki."

"What do you need us to do, Master?" Jill asked. Her question brought 
something to his mind.

"Cindy didn't make it, did she?" It wasn't really a question, and Jill 
shook her head "no."

"Dammit. Jill, I need you to set up a quiet space around here somewhere, 
where I won't be disturbed."

She nodded, and moved off to do as she had been told. Ron looked at 
Tammy, and gave her a smile. "We'll find them." Ron waited where he was, 
resting and looking around at the facility, while the rest of the family 
moved off. He took little note of Linda and Sandra talking quietly with 
Kim.

"So?" Linda prodded.

"So, what?" Kimberly replied, playing dumb.

"Come on, Kim! Don't torment us!" Sandra insisted.

"He is a very wonderful man," Kim said, "And, I am now a woman."

Nothing else needed to be said. Linda gave her a warm hug, and Sandra 
gave her a kiss. "Welcome to the family," she offered.

"Sandy, it was... unbelievable. Nothing in my life has ever felt like 
that!"

"Two psionics together... I imagine that is special."

"Especially when there's love involved," Linda mused.

The room did not take long to prepare. Jill had turned her celebrity 
arrogance into authoritative competence, and she was always listened to 
by the residents of the shelter. Ron was led to a comfortable, if 
slightly damaged, chair in a secluded section of the shelter.

"Is there anything else you will need, Master?"

"Not right now, Jill, but I'll need something to drink when I come out of 
it, and there should always be someone here with me, just in case 
something unexpected happens."

"What should we do," Tammy inquired, "if the unexpected happens?"

"If I knew that," Ron answered with a chuckle, "then it wouldn't be 
unexpected!" He lay back in the chair and closed his eyes. He let the 
outside world drift away from his consciousness, and he focused his mind. 
Turning his energy back in upon itself, once again he found himself in 
the Plane of the Watchers.

"Hello, Master." He had expected to be greeted by Jessica. After all, 
that was who always greeted him here. He was not ready to be greeted by 
someone else.

"Megan! What are you- No, never mind, I know what you're doing here. You 
look very nice." Ron embraced her, and held onto her for some minutes. 
Unlike last time, he realized that minutes here were bare seconds in real 
life, and so he took the time to enjoy the sensation.

Finally, she released him, and he backed away. "I need to see one of the 
Watchers, Megan."

"Yes, Master. Jessica told us as much. I will take you to them."

"Us?" Ron inquired.

"Cindy is here, as well. All of your family will wait for you here, until 
it is time for your passing."

"But... you didn't make a conscious decision to be with me, I forced you 
to. So, you're stuck with that for the rest of eternity?"

"No, Master. When I passed, my mind was freed from your control. I was 
shown my life before you, and after you, and was given a choice. I chose 
to remain."

Ron was completely speechless with that pronouncement. He didn't know 
what to say, and so he said nothing, but hugged her again. When he let 
go, he had only one doubt left. "And Cindy?"

"Master, her life before you was so horrid as to be something you'd 
rather not know. Though her time with you was short, it was the most
pleasant period of her life. She, also, has chosen to remain with you."

Ron was moved beyond words. He would deal with these emotions at a later 
time, when he could afford it. "Thank you for telling me, Megan. You can 
call me Ron, now, if you'd like."

"You were, are, and always will be my Master. And, sir, the Watchers are 
waiting for you. We should get going."

The small committee of Watchers met Ron at the seashore. He had come to 
understand that everything in this Realm was some kind of metaphor or 
analog to what it was used for. He didn't waste much time considering why 
Earth was represented by a vast sea of swirling and roiling currents.

The lead Watcher stood from his place in the sand to greet the duo. He 
then returned to his spot, and motioned them to sit as well. Ron sat 
slowly, as the man looked remarkably familiar to him, but he couldn't 
place the face or voice. The man, seeing this, cleared the matter up for
him.

"I am Sarcerion. I am also a child of Calliope. The family resemblance is 
what has you confused."

"You were... removed from Guardian Hall?"

"Not exactly. I chose not to take an active part in what was going on 
around me. I am not a fan of battle, and so I do what I can for the Earth 
Realm." Ron took that at face value, and sat down on the warm sand. The 
five Watchers observed him for some time before anyone spoke. The one 
woman in their group was the first to speak.

"What can we do for you, Master Chaffey?"

"Excuse me? Master?"

 Sarcerion explained, "It is a title given to all of the Earth Realm who 
hold a position of import."

"Ah. Well, I thought Jess would have explained this to you. My sisters 
have been kidnapped by the enemy forces, and I would like to get them 
back."

"An understandable feeling," another said, "But how can we be of help? We 
cannot enter the Earth Realm."

"No, but you can tell me where they are, can't you?"

"Ahhh," said a fourth. "You seek from us information."

"When you need something, you go to the best."

"Flattery will not aid you in this endeavor, Master Chaffey," Sarcerion 
said with a smile. "However, in this matter, we can be of help. We have 
been given direction to be as helpful to you as possible. You are highly 
regarded in the Spirit Realm, especially among the Guardians. Also, you 
have gained the respect of certain Centurions, and that is not an easy 
task. Let us consult, and see if we can locate the information you seek.
Please wait here. We shall return as quickly as possible."

"Thank you." The five rose, and walked swiftly into the sea. They 
disappeared rapidly, and Ron and Megan were left alone to wait.

"I was troubled when you left home, Master. I worried for you."

"I was worried for me, too, Megan. But things are a little better now."

"Yes, we know. She is very special to you, isn't she?"

"You've been watching me since you got here, haven't you?"

"Yes, Master. And I will continue to do so, unless you would rather I 
didn't."

"I don't mind, Megan. But, when Kim and I made love... it's never been like 
that before. I can't even begin to describe how that felt to me. The 
emotions and thoughts and movements... it all swirled together."

"And you love her."

"Yes."

"Then I am happy for you, Master. I knew that I would never hold that 
place in your heart, but I always wished that someone would."

"How come you never spoke this way when you were on Earth?"

"On Earth, I was fully under your control, Master. Your programming did 
not permit me to speak my wants and wishes. Here, I am not under your 
control. I have merely chosen to remain as your servant."

"Oh. Megan, I'm sorry. When I chose you at CAMP, well... my intention was 
merely physical. I chose you because..."

"Because Master, I was a bitch. And you felt I needed taming."

"Well... there was also the fact that you're a total fox."

Megan blushed. "Master, I do not regret the time I have spent with you. 
My life before you was far worse than anything you did to me. Even that 
day when we were first together... when you..."

"Yeah, I still remember that day. You sure did writhe around a lot, stuck 
in mid-air."

Again she blushed. "I hated you that day. I am sorry for that, Master."

"Don't worry about it. It's not important."

"Cindy wanted to be here, but she needed to keep an eye on something or 
other, I'm not sure what."

"I would have liked to see her. Tell her that I miss her, please?"

"She knows, Master. We all know how you feel about us. You have not 
hidden those feelings from us. We all love you, you do know that?"

"Yes, Megan, I-" Ron was interrupted as the five emerged from the sea 
again. They did not retake their seats. Ron wondered why the illusion did 
not carry over to them being sopping wet after walking out of an ocean, 
but dismissed it as irrelevant.

"We have located your family."

"That didn't take long."

"Actually, it took us three days. Time in there," he indicated the ocean, 
"Moves at a different rate even from the other portions of the Spirit 
Realm. Anyway, I will show you, mentally, where you must go now." A map 
was burned into Ron's memory. He would not forget this location. Useful 
images were also passed along, showing Nikki and Dawn, held confined, but 
in good condition; not unduly mistreated, but merely imprisoned.

After the images, Sarcerion said, "You should know that there is another 
person there that you are familiar with. After consultation, we decided 
it would be best not to tell you who it is. But, we will tell you, this 
person's presence there is not a trick or a trap. This person is
genuine, and you can believe what they are going to tell you."

"O...kay... Thank you very much for the information."

"You are welcome, Master Chaffey. If we are needed in the future, we 
stand ready to assist. However, you should know that frivolous requests 
cannot be fulfilled. We are very busy."

"I understand that. I don't anticipate needing your help again soon. But 
I appreciate knowing that you are here if I need you. Again, thank you. I 
will be going now."

"Good luck to you."

Megan walked with him back to his point of arrival, and she gave him a 
warm good-bye kiss. "I wish you could stay longer, Master. We will be 
together again, someday."

"I love you, Megan."

"I know, sir. And I will always love you. Go now, and rescue your 
sisters. They need you now more than I do."

Ron waded into the ocean, and soon he was returned to his own body. The 
family was gathered, and waiting, but they were calm as Ron took a large 
drink of the juice by his chair. This sort of trip always took a bit out 
of him.

"Okay," he started, after letting the juice trickle down his throat. "I 
know where they are. It's not heavily defended. I think Kim and I can 
handle this alone."

"Are you sure, Ron?" Linda said. "We don't want to lose two more people."

"You won't. The Watchers showed me what we need to know. We can get them 
out of there. We'll rest here tonight, and leave in the morning. It 
should be about a two day trip, out and back." To help ease some feelings 
he knew the family had, he added, "And, by the way, Megan and Cindy said 
hi." Not strictly speaking the truth, it was close enough, and had the 
desired results. A few small smiles broke out in the knowledge that, 
though they were no longer present, they were still okay.

They departed early in the morning, flying northwest away from the sun. 
It was a long trip, and it took them several, thankfully uneventful, 
hours to get there. They landed a mile away from the place the girls were 
being held, and paused to get their bearings, to make sure no one was 
watching, and to rest a bit.

"There is something I haven't told you yet," Ron said as they sat on a 
fallen log.

"What's that?"

"The Watchers said there was someone else here that I knew, but they 
wouldn't tell me who it was. They only assured me that this person, 
whoever it is, isn't a trick or a trap. So, we'll have to do a little 
extra looking around after we rescue the girls."

"Where you lead, I will follow."

"Now you sound like Megan," he said, half-playfully. "Are you ready?"

"As ready as I'm ever going to be, I suppose."

"Okay, let's get going, then." They crept the last mile. It took them 
over an hour to reach the small house where the girls were being held. 
 From the outside, it looked normal enough, but Ron was sure it would be 
fairly heavily secured. They could see no one watching out of the windows 
for them, and no one on the porch. Then Ron spotted a door down to the 
basement on the side of the house. He pointed.

"Most likely, they'd be keeping them in the basement for security. If we 
go in those doors, maybe we can avoid some trouble." What he left 
unspoken was that this was most likely to be the most heavily defended 
door, but he really didn't care at this point.

The pair waited until night fell, and then they ran, in a crouch, across 
the yard to the hatch-style doors that led to the basement. They paused, 
and each tried to sense if there was someone on the other side of the 
door. Slowly, they increased their psionic output, until they were 
certain there was no one within twenty feet of the door. Nor was the door
locked. This made Ron horribly suspicious: this was far too easy.

Nevertheless, the pair pressed on. Even if it were a trap, they could 
hardly turn back this close to the objective. Ron opened the door slowly, 
hoping like hell it didn't squeak. It didn't. They slipped in and closed 
the door behind them, locking it so that no one could sneak up behind 
them.

Ron led the way down a short hallway that then branched into two 
directions. He looked both ways, and saw no one, but he saw that the one
hallway turned again. He led them down the shorter hallway first.

The door to each of these rooms was open, and empty. This worried Ron. 
Could they have moved the girls? Perhaps they had somehow found out he 
was coming? But that wasn't possible, was it? No one but he had known 
just where he was going today.

Quickly, they moved into the second hallway. The doors here were closed, 
and locked. This was more promising. Kim picked the lock on each door, 
careful to keep her psionic energies focused. The first doorway swung 
open silently, to reveal someone... that Ron didn't know.

"Who the hell are you?" he whispered hoarsely, as Kim kept guard.

"Jack Tiner. I used to live in Dallas."

"Why are you here?"

"Well, quite frankly, they captured me, and wanted some computer codes. I 
gave the codes to them, and then they threw me in here."

Ron's mouth set in a frown. A traitor. But he couldn't kill the man just 
for saving his own neck. "Fine. You will wait at this door, and you will 
leave with us." The man nodded, and then Ron thought to add something 
else. "You betray us, and I will kill you before I fight them, 
understood?" The man nodded vigorously.

Ron and Kim moved on to the second door, where Kim repeated her lock 
picking skills. This door squeaked slightly, and they all froze, but no 
one came to inquire on it. The door went the rest of the way silently.

"Ron!" Nikki half-whispered in astonishment.

"Anybody like a ride home?" Ron asked.

Nikki rushed to him and gave him a big hug. Dawn remained on her cot. 
Finally, she said, "So, I suppose you are now going to whisk us away back 
to your headquarters. Shit. What makes you any better than them?"

"Stuff it, Dawn," Ron responded. He was in no mood, and had no time, to 
deal with her just now. He was behaving as a soldier, and had no energy 
to spare on her ramblings. "Kim, keep guard here. I'm going to take a 
look around the corner."

Kim nodded, and Ron moved quietly off to the corner. When he looked 
around it, he saw three guards in front of one room. Now, who could 
possibly be in that room to warrant three guards? The answer came pretty
quickly: there had to be a psionic in that room. And that meant the 
guards would be heavily focused on what was inside the room, rather than 
anyone approaching it. He proved this by stepping into the middle of the
hallway. He wasn't directly in their line of sight, but anyone who was
wary of intruders would have been more alert.

Kim heard the sizzle of psionic energy, and knew that the blast must have 
been rather impressive. She wondered why it was necessary, but didn't 
dare move from her post without being called.

The guards died without ever knowing what killed them. Ron moved down to 
the door they'd been guarding, to find that it was not just locked, but 
triple-locked, with one of them being a fairly complex combination lock. 
He blasted through all three of them with a single focused burst of 
energy. Not as fancy as Kim's work, it did the trick. The door swung open
with a loud groan. Obviously, it hadn't been used much. What Ron saw 
inside the room made him draw back.

"You- You can't be here!" he nearly shouted.

"Ron?" she said, unsure of what she was seeing. When she'd first come 
here, they'd played many games with her mind, and, though they'd quit 
that after a month or two, she was still wary of anything she saw that 
was out of the ordinary.

"No! You cannot be here! You're leading them!"

Michelle rose from her cot, stiffly and slowly. "When she captured me, 
she rummaged through my head. I wasn't good enough to stop her. She 
gathered information about you, and CAMP. And then she changed her 
appearance to look like me. I've been stuck down here ever since then."

"Oh, shit, Michelle. I'm sorry. I didn't-"

"You couldn't have known. Let's get the hell out of here, though. Wait, 
if you're not here for me, then-"

"They kidnapped Nikki and Dawn."

"Oh, shit. Are they all right?"

"Yeah, we've already got them unlocked. Come on, we've got to go before 
someone knows we're here."

"They probably already know that, Ron."

"Could be, but is there a benefit to hanging around?" She agreed there 
wasn't, and then followed him down the hallway. As they moved around the 
corner, Michelle and Kim got their first look at each other. It was an 
immediately competitive atmosphere. Each one instinctively knew what the 
other's presence meant. Ron hadn't caught on to anything yet, mainly 
because his concern was getting the hell out of Dodge at this point.

"Kim, bring up the rear. Nikki, Dawn, get moving!" Without even thinking 
about it, he gave them a mental push to make sure they cooperated. Jack 
fell into line without being bidden, and they all quickly made for the 
basement door.

They made it outside and into the woods without the slightest hint of 
trouble. The longer they went without encountering difficulty, the more 
Ron worried. They stopped about three hundred yards into the woods, to
take a quick breather. He turned to Jack.

"You're out of here. I don't trust you any further than I can throw you. 
I'm sure as hell not carrying you along with us. You're on your own."

"I understand that. You want to wipe my mind of where you are?"

"Wouldn't do any good. Just get moving. Go that way," Ron pointed. "It 
appears to be safe, and it should eventually lead you to a city. We will 
go... in some other direction."

He waited until Tiner was out of sight, and even outside a low psionic 
scan, then they moved off in a direction at a right angle to Tiner's. 
They walked for two hours, both because they didn't want to use any 
unnecessary psionic power so close to the house, and because Ron was a
bit worn from the stress of the previous day.

They reached a small meadow, and that's where Ron stopped. "We'll camp 
here for the night, and then we'll fly home in the morning."

"I don't see a fucking airport around here anywhere," Dawn said acidly.

"We don't need one," Ron replied coldly, "Now go to sleep." Whether it 
was because he was tired, or perhaps because he didn't want to deal with 
it, Ron's brain never registered the looks that were passing between 
Michelle and Kim. They each slept beside Ron, on opposite sides, and no 
more than five feet away from him. Deep in his subconscious, Ron knew 
there was a problem, but he thought it would keep.

The morning turned out to be a very rude awakening. Ron bolted awake to 
the sense that there were others nearby. He saw that Kim and Michelle 
were both awake, too. So it wasn't a dream.

He pulled the five of them into a defensive posture, his sisters in the 
center, protected by the three psionics. Ron debated whether to use his 
energy to search for the enemy, or to remain silent, in the hopes that
the enemy did not know where they were, and wouldn't find out.

His debate didn't last long, as the trees on the edge of the small 
clearing they were in were blasted away by mental fire, and a team of 
seven Russian psionics poured into the opening they had made.

Death Squad, Ron thought. His shields went to maximum. He couldn't 
sustain this level for very long, but there was almost nothing that would 
get through it.

Seven Russians blasted away at the shield, which became visible as their 
energies impacted it. Kim and Michelle used their combined strength to 
take down one of the Russians. But the strain was more than Ron could 
take. These were not merely psionics: they were among the best of the 
Russian team. All of them were level 14, by CAMP standards, or higher. 
Death Squads were few in number, Ron knew, but wherever they went, they 
killed with impunity. Not here, and not now! Ron raged.

Ron quickly switched to offense, firing off a blinding blast of light, to 
disorient the attackers. He quickly moved his team to the far side, 
hiding behind trees not so much for protection as to confuse their 
location. He lanced a mental blast at the lead Russian, and he fell, his
body twisting in the pain induced by overloaded synapses.

The Russians were firing back blindly, their eyes still not clear of the 
flash-blindness caused by Ron's trick. He raised his shields quickly as 
an errant blast strayed near him. It missed wide. Michelle, angry with 
the Russians for her captivity, blasted all her energy at the nearest 
soldier, severing his head clean from his body. The count was down to 
four, as Kim had also scored, but now the Russian's were learning: they 
used their televiewing to see, instead of their eyes. Their return fire 
was much more accurate. Michelle ducked behind a tree, just narrowly 
escaping a return volley from two Russians.

Ron focused his thoughts, and immediately four hundred glowing 
butterflies appeared in front of the enemy. Because these were "real", 
having physical appearance, this interfered with televiewing as well as
normal vision. Kim took the opportunity to charge her nearest opponent, a
mere ten feet away. A flip and a scissors-strike, and her foe was lying
dead on the ground, his neck snapped cleanly. She retreated back to cover
before anyone could catch her, but the mental fire was right on her 
heels.

Ron was running out of tricks. He could take on one of these Russians, 
easily. Two with some difficulty. But three were just beyond him. And 
neither of the ladies could stand up to them one-on-one. He let the 
butterflies fade, and he zapped another of them, watching him fall to
the ground.

It was that momentarily lapse in concentration, while he was watching his 
vanquished foe, that caused him the greatest harm. A bolt of energy 
sliced into him from one of the two remaining soldiers. His shields 
kicked in almost automatically, but the force of the blast was enough to
throw him backward.

Ron hit a large oak tree with a great deal of force. He heard the 
snapping and popping of breaking bone. He knew they were his, but he 
couldn't feel any of it. He marveled at the warm sensation flowing over
his body. Then he felt a very hard surface connect with his left temple.
After that, his unconscious form felt nothing at all, as it slid to the
ground.

Kim saw the attack, and the result. A battle cry welled up from her inner 
being and escaped out her mouth as her body flew towards the offending 
person. He was still winded from using so much power to take down Ron, 
and he was hardly ready for a berserker charge from this female. Her 
shields were at maximum, and her mental energy crackled around her like
lightning. She lunged at him, and her hands, and her energy, clasped
around his throat. The momentum of her charge brought her in a swinging
circle all the way around her opponent. She was immensely startled when
his head actually tore free from his body. She released him, using her
kinetics to flip her back to her feet, and ignored the dead body as it 
fell to the ground.

There were now two very pissed off women facing one remaining Russian 
soldier. He had seen the look of rage in his girlfriend's eyes often 
enough to know when leaving was the better part of valor. He bolted 
straight upward, leaving the scene as fast as he could. Both of them 
considered following him, but for only as long as it took to remember 
that Ron was lying in a heap over by a tree.

They rushed over to him, to find Nikki already kneeling over him. Dawn 
was sitting off by another tree, resolutely not paying any attention to 
her brother.

"Nikki, is he...?" Kim couldn't bring herself to finish the question.

"He's still breathing. But he's hurt bad. His arm's at the wrong angle, 
and I don't know what else might be damaged. Can't you... fix him?"

Kim shook her head, and then looked to Michelle. "Can you?"

"No. I never got good at healing others."

"We've got to get him back home!"

"We will, Nikki, we will. Can you fly, Michelle?"

"Barely. There's no way I could carry anyone with me."

"Damn. And I can't carry three people on my own that distance."

"I'm not 'flying' anywhere with you people," Dawn interjected from her 
tree.

"You'll do what you're told, remember?" Kim said, rather forcefully. 
Michelle looked at her in utter astonishment. "But in this case, she's 
right. We're going to have to walk. We can carry Ron between us."

"It's several hundred miles back to Ron's house, if that's where we're 
going."

"Eventually. But, if I recall my map correctly, there was a PPA unit not 
too far from here. It'll probably take us several days of walking to get 
there, though."

"Why go there? Why not call them here?" Michelle challenged.

"You want more Russians after us? If they knew there was an unprotected 
unit, carrying the PPA commander... Christ, they'd be on us like you 
wouldn't believe!"

"But the PPA would be all over us, too, wouldn't they?" Michelle 
responded.

"Not fast enough. How long do you think it would take a hundred soldiers 
to take us out? Twenty seconds, and the battle's over!"

"Alright, Alright. Which way?"

Kim oriented herself, as she had been taught to do in the ShadowDragon. 
Then she pointed. "That way."

"Okay, you go first."

Ron found himself standing on a hill. The hill was a chalky white color, 
with sparse grass growing up through depressions in the rock... Was it 
rock? Ron knelt down to look at the ground more closely. He picked at a 
loose section. It came free. He turned it over, and found a human skull
staring back at him. Ron screamed. The jaw of the skull fell open. Ron 
threw the skull, and tumbled backwards. He rolled over the edge of the 
hill, and began tumbling downward. He hit his head, and the world went 
back to black.

It was a long walk, and they stopped only seldom. No one spoke for the 
first hours, until they paused for lunch. Lunch turned out to be whatever 
they could collect from the path they had walked. Being winter, very 
little edible plants were around. They managed to gather a few small 
items. It would have to do until they could either find better food, or
some kind of civilization.

Once again, they began to walk. Kim took the lead, with Michelle walking 
behind her. They levitated Ron between them. Nikki walked slightly off to 
one side, so that she could keep her eyes on her brother. Dawn walked 
aimlessly behind them all, not giving a damn whether they got where they 
were going or not. How did I end up surrounded by these goddamned 
psionics!!!

Ron came to slowly. He didn't know you could pass out in a dream. He knew 
this was a dream, or some version of one. He knew this because, first 
off, he had no Ability here, and second, that fall should have killed 
him. Since he wasn't seeing any Guardians or Judges nearby, he assumed he 
was not dead. So, I'm dreaming. How deep is this dream? What is the last 
thing I remember?

That line of questioning brought a fierce, fiery stab of pain to his 
head. It hurt so bad that he dropped to his knees and closed his eyes. 
The pain only subsided when he consciously decided to stop thinking about 
before. He would worry about before, later.

He rose from his position, his head clearing slowly of the blinding pain. 
He was standing with his back to the... hill... and he saw before him a 
valley, bathed in the red glow of a setting sun. Or was it rising? How to 
tell when you have no orientation for time or space? Now what do I do? It 
appeared as if, down in the crux of a river below him, was a large house. 
It seemed to be somehow lit up, as if there were rays of sunshine that 
played upon it, and it alone.

Well, slick, it's your dream. Might as well get walking. He thought, as 
he went along, how much easier flying would be. But he'd already tried to 
levitate himself, and it just didn't work. He was normal again, here. A 
little late.

He walked slowly and steadily, not wanting to tire himself, if that were 
possible in a place like this. Hey, if knocking yourself out in a dream 
is possible, anything is. He walked endlessly, and it almost appeared as 
if he wasn't going anywhere. He looked down at his path, and it appeared 
as if it were actually moving backward, or as if it was growing before 
his eyes. He noted, for the first time, that the scenery around him 
wasn't moving past as it should. He was on a damned treadmill!

He leaped sideways, into the brush. He rolled down an embankment, and 
ended up laying against something soft. He rolled to see what it was, and 
found dead human eyes staring back at him. Once again he screamed, and 
the blackness engulfed him.

Michelle managed to catch a small rabbit before dinnertime rolled around, 
and Kim managed a small fire, to warm them, and to cook the food. The 
fire was a danger, but they had to do it. Neither of the normals had any 
winter clothing, and the clothing that the Russians had been wearing was 
simply too big to be of any use.

Dawn sat close to the rest of the group only because that's where the 
fire was. Nikki sat next to her brother, lying on the ground still 
unconscious. Kim and Michelle had spoken very few words to each other all 
day. But without any activity, their minds went into work, and their 
emotions came to the fore.

"He used to be mine, you know," Michelle said quietly.

"Yes. I have heard many things about you," Kim replied.

"Perhaps he will be mine again."

"He loves me."

"He told you that?" Kim nodded. "Well." Their conversation stopped at 
that point, and the group settled back into silence for the night. They 
had at least two more days to walk. It was obvious that it would not be 
pleasant.

Ron awakened after another fear-induced nap, but was awake enough not to 
open his eyes right away. He could still feel the soft... body... resting 
next to him. He rolled away, and stood up before opening his eyes, slowly 
and carefully. What the hell is this place? Am I the only living person 
here?

>>What if you are?<< The thought came from somewhere outside his dream-
self, and scared him right down to the very fiber of his being. The sky, 
which up to now had been a mild overcast, became dark and forbidding. It 
was almost a twilight darkness now, powerful and menacing.

He didn't want to, but Ron knew he had to face that body again. When he 
turned, he realized that his initial impression was right. It was 
Kumiko's body, lifeless and broken. He turned away, looking toward where
he knew the house to be. If he was to find any answers in this place, he
knew they would be found there.

>>But do you want answers?<< That voice was starting to get to him 
already, and his knees wobbled as he moved off, through the brush, to get 
to the house. It couldn't be all that long a walk, if the damned 
environment would just let him get there. He stumbled on through the 
forest, getting scrapes and cuts that he would normally have healed 
without a thought, and now he had to put up with.

Finally, he broke from the forest, and was able to see the whole of the 
valley. Strange that the house to which he was headed was the only one in 
sight. It's a dream, dumbass. Things don't have to make sense.

>>But if this is just a dream, how come you know it's a dream?<< That 
voice again. It sent shivers up his spine, mainly because he knew it was 
right. He'd never been able to dream lucidly. He was normally so 
engrossed in his dreams that he didn't stop to realize they were dreams. 
But this time... Is this really a dream?

>>If you don't know, how can I tell you?<< Ron moved on quickly toward 
the house.

The next day progressed very much like the first, the four girls speaking 
only when necessary. They'd found an abandoned farmhouse with some canned 
food still in the pantry, and so they at least had nourishment, if you 
liked canned beans and V-8 juice. The tension between Kim and Michelle 
was becoming palpable, but no one wanted to mention it. They sat down 
quietly for their mid-day meal, and Nikki tried to get Ron to swallow 
some nourishment.

"That ain't going to work, Nicole," Michelle said.

"What's the harm in her trying?" Kim rebutted.

"Mind your own damned business," Michelle retorted.

"Anything that happens to Ron is my business!"

"Maybe some of us don't see it that way."

"The way you see it isn't really important to me!"

"No, I suppose a boyfriend-thief wouldn't worry about such things!"

"I did not steal him from anyone! He was unattached when I met him!"

"Unattached! I'm not dead! I wasn't dead then! And you have the 
unmitigated gall to say he wasn't attached? I have seen some arrogance
in my life, but you-"

"I speak the truth! If he were so damned attached to you, how come he 
wasn't looking for you, hmm? Why did he let you rot in that place?"

"He thought I had turned on him! He thought that Zinaida was me, you 
stupid bitch!"

"And, if he was so enamored with you, how come it is that he couldn't 
tell differently?"

At this point, Nikki had enough of their bickering. "Shut the fuck up, 
both of you! I can't believe you two!"

"Mind your business, Nikki, or I'll-" Michelle began.

"You'll what?" Nicole demanded. "You'll hurt me? You and I both know 
better! You harm me in any way at all, and Ron won't just banish you when 
he gets well, he's damned well likely to kill your ass! And you fucking 
well know it!"

"I can't believe the two of you can stand there and argue over whose 
boyfriend he is, when we don't even know why he's unconscious! He could 
be dying for all we know, and you two are fighting over the remains! 
You're both sick!"

"Eh, let 'em go at it, Little Sis," Dawn spoke for the first time in two 
days. "At least it's entertainment."

"You! You can just go fuck yourself, Big Sister Dear. You deserted us 
long ago! Why should I give a flip what the hell you want? You turned 
your back on all of us years ago! You made your bed, but when you 
couldn't deal with it, you came back home crying your eyes out, and 
bitching about every minute of it!"

"Wake up and smell the shit, Dawn! Ron ain't responsible for this war! 
And he's not responsible for all the crap you've gone through! You have 
got to be the biggest fucking coward I've ever met! You ran away from 
your family! We really could have used your help these last couple of 
years! So don't you dare try to tell me what to do!"

"All of you need to be whacked upside the head with a two by four! Ron is 
lying there, broken bones and unconscious, and you all are caught up in 
your own fucking petty problems! How dare you! Now, we're going to get 
back on the path, we're going to keep moving, and we're going to get help 
for my brother. NOW MOVE IT!"

Nobody dared speak a word. Even Michelle, who felt somewhat superior to 
Nikki, was somewhat afraid to cross her at this point. For one thing, she 
was right: if anyone hurt Nikki, they'd be lucky to survive the day of 
Ron's awakening. The two psionics resumed their burden, and the small 
group moved on resolutely.

Lars really didn't need any more on his plate. The last four weeks 
without Ron had been a disaster. He'd lost over 2,000 troops in just that 
one month. He'd watched sixteen more cities fall. The Russians were 
working over medium-sized cities now. Still New York and Washington, D.C.
stood, though no one understood why. They were the only large cities 
remaining, possibly in the world.

When a major came tearing into the command tent, Lars was trying to get 
some much-needed rest. His eyes came open immediately at the major's 
words: "General! We're going nuclear!" Lars was immediately galvanized 
into full alertness.

"What the hell are you talking about? What's going on?"

"Sir, we've been keeping an eye on the President as you ordered. The VP 
has just talked him into ordering a nuclear strike! The countdowns have 
begun, sir!"

"Oh, shit! Can we get to him in time?"

"Negative, sir! We don't have any mentspecs close enough, with enough 
strength!" The major was referring to a "mental specialist", a psionic 
whose primary skill lay in the mental, rather than kinetic, powers.

"Understood. I want you to gather all the kinspecs you can, and then 
communicate with all nearby units. We can't save the Russian people, but 
by God we're going to save America."

"Yes, sir!" The major left the room at a dead run, to carry out his 
orders.

Lars had the unfortunate privilege of having to consider this possibility 
for Ron some months ago. They had wondered how to deal with it if the 
President decided that a nuclear first strike was better than whatever 
was happening at the time. Lars had come up with a plan that even he 
found cockamamie, but it was also the only plan that had ever been 
dreamed up, and so they would have to implement his impractical, at best,
idea, and hope like hell it worked.

Fifteen minutes later, the senior officers of the PPA command staff were 
gathered in the command tent. Lars began his briefing by saying, 
"Gentlemen, we have a little problem. Five minutes ago, the United States 
launched a nuclear attack on the Russian state." He had to raise his 
voice over the gasps. "We cannot help the Russians. However, in about 
thirty minutes, nuclear missiles are going to be falling all over the 
United States, as Russia will immediately counterattack. We've been 
informed that the massive strike the US has begun cannot possibly be
misinterpreted, and that the likelihood of the Russians not countering is
roughly... um... six hundred billion to one, I think was what someone said."

"Sir," asked one of the generals, "What are we going to do about it?"

"Glad you asked, Brad. Here's the plan..."

Ron was trekking through an unpleasant patch of marshy land. Strange that 
he had not seen it from the hill; it seemed to have sprung up out of 
nowhere. His feet sloshed as he slogged through the muddy water-land 
mixture.

He came upon a large section of raised ground, and happily removed 
himself from the muck. The ground was much easier going, and he made good 
time. It was almost as if there were a path for him to follow. Then he 
turned a bend in the path, and froze in his tracks. Dawn was standing 
before him. It was the pretty Dawn, the quiet Dawn, the peaceful big 
sister he'd grown to love. But she had a python wrapped around her, from 
her ankles to her neck. The snake was larger around than Ron's thigh. He 
could tell that it had begun to squeeze.

"Rrrroonnn.... Hhhhhhhhhelp meeeeee...." Dawn said, as the serpent 
constricted tighter and tighter. Ron tried to pry it lose, but he 
couldn't budge even a single turn of the snake's enormous, muscular body. 
He watched his sister's beautiful face contort into horrible pain as he 
heard bones snap. The sound was sickening, and he wished he could turn 
away, but he would not leave his sister to die alone in this hell. His 
eyes conveyed the pain his words never would.

Dawn's face turned a sickly purple, as the blood in her chest was 
squeezed upward and downward, filling her other extremities. More cracks
and pops were heard as her body was rent by the crushing power of the
behemoth serpent. Ron could not bear to see his sister in such pain, and
he began to beat upon the snake, wanting to tear it apart.

Oh, if only I had my Ability!

>>But isn't that what got us into this in the first place?<< That voice 
again! Where did it come from? Who was it? These questions distracted his 
mind, but unfortunately not his eyes, as his sister's mouth flew open, 
and breathed just one last time. The hiss of air leaving her lungs was 
the most hollow sound he had ever heard.

Ron turned from the scene, and walked down the path, which quickly 
returned to the marsh, allowing him to slog on through his misery. He had 
failed his sister; he had failed his follower; he had failed his nation.

The four girls had walked on, sleeping as they had the night before, and 
rising to meet the sunrise, only to continue their journey. Kimberly 
moved with assurance, but Michelle grew more and more concerned about 
their lack of destination.

"We're lost," she said, almost with a jeering tone.

"We are not," Kim replied matter-of-factly. "We will find what we are 
looking for if we continue in this direction."

"Why are you keeping up the act? Admit it! You haven't the first clue as 
to where we're going." The taunt in her voice was quite obvious.

"You sound as if you want to fail, Michelle," Kim said. "Perhaps you'd 
care to go off on your own from here on out? Perhaps you can find the 
path that I have missed."

"I think it's you who needs to leave, Miss Priss. This bullshit has gone 
on long enough! You walk into my life, tell me you've taken my boyfriend, 
and then proceed to tell me what to do! What right have you got?"

"I was given the right to lead both by my experience, and by him," she 
responded hotly, pointing to Ron, whom they had settled to the ground.

"He only took you because he thought he couldn't have me!"

"That is, perhaps, something we will never know, but I do know that, at 
this time, he loves me."

"You stay away from him, you conniving little bitch!" With that, Michelle 
lunged at Kimberly. It was immediately a wrestling match, the two 
grabbing and twisting each other in painful ways. Kimberly threw Michelle 
in a classic judo move, only to see Michelle roll out of it, and come up 
in a swinging roundhouse kick to the head, which utterly failed to 
connect as Kim ducked out of it and followed through with a backfist.

Michelle blocked Kim's move, and countered with a flurry of punches, all 
of which were blocked by Kim's superior martial skill, not to mention 
greater amount of practice.

When Michelle finally grew frustrated at her lack of accomplishment in 
the physical, she accompanied one of her kicks with a mental push. 
Kimberly blocked, but went flying anyway.

Kim picked herself up off the ground, and stared daggers at Michelle. She 
took only a moment to notice that the two sisters had moved themselves 
off the battle ground.

"You want to tangle with me, bitch? We'll see which of us is stronger!" 
With that, Kim lashed a mental whip at Michelle, who ducked out of it, 
but was caught in the reverse swing. Her head snapped over, and she 
tumbled to the ground, a welt raising on her cheek.

Michelle countered with a strong blast toward Kim. A quick roll moved 
Kimberly out of the way, but she felt the sizzle of it going past her. 
She snaked her extension out, quickly sweeping over the ground and 
sending Michelle flying off her feet and to the ground again.

Michelle rose, raising a medium shield, and preparing for her next 
attack, waiting for Kim to make the first move.

Back at PPA headquarters, Lars had gathered together all of his kinspec, 
or "kinetic specialist," psionics. He had explained the plan to them, and 
up until now, they had only been waiting for confirmation. "Incoming!" 
shouted a soldier keeping tabs on NORAD, the North American Aerospace 
Defense Command, buried deep in Cheyenne mountain, Colorado. The missiles 
were over the horizon, and were now valid targets.

"Begin!" shouted Lars. All at once, the kinspecs focused their energies 
on the incoming weapons. Already, they had separated from their boosters, 
and even their warhead bus. They were now coming down as MIRVs: Multiple, 
Independantly-Targetable Re-Entry Vehicles. A multi-hundred pound warhead 
with a shell of Uranium, and a thermonuclear bomb in the middle.

The psionics amassed their power, and started to slow the warheads. It 
took three psionics for every warhead, because they were moving so fast. 
Once a warhead was stopped, it was pushed back out into space, and then 
launched on a trajectory for the sun. But there were a great many 
warheads, and Lars worried that they would not stop them all.

For several minutes, they fought the forces of nature, mental power 
versus gravity, will versus momentum. They could only hope that the 
Russian psionics were doing the same, or there was going to be a bleeding
sore upon the face of the Earth for a very long time to come.

What Lars' plan failed to consider, because he did not thoroughly 
understand the concepts of nuclear warfare, was that not all warheads 
were intended to reach the surface of the planet.

It was only one, and they almost got it. They cleaned up all of its 
brethren afterwards, but that was of little consequence to those who were 
blinded by the flash. Outside the atmosphere, a single warhead exploded. 
The flash of it was seen from New York City to what was left of Seattle. 
To most, it was merely a horribly bright spot in the sky, almost a second 
sun. To those right under the blast, it was a blinding, disorienting 
flash of light that made the sun look like a dim flashlight bulb. 
Although there were no blast effects, nor any radioactive contamination, 
the electrical devices in the area immediately surrounding the explosion 
took note, and, one by one, began to shut down.

Ron kept pushing his way through the muck until it finally gave way to 
firmer soil. He pushed himself onto the roadway, but paid close attention 
to whether he was actually moving. This road seemed to get him where he 
needed to go.

But where that really was, or what it represented, he did not know. Ron 
had seen a hill of skulls hundreds of feet high. He had seen the dead and 
broken body of his beloved Kumiko. And, worst of all, he had watched his 
own sister asphyxiated by an unstoppable serpent. What does it all mean? 
What am I doing here?

>>What makes you so sure it means anything? It's just a dream, remember? 
Or have you changed your mind?<< Onward he walked. Continually he checked 
his progress, but, while he was definitely moving forward, it still did 
not seem as if that house in the distance was coming a bit closer. 
Finally, night fell, but Ron did not bother stopping. He was no more 
tired now than when he'd begun, and he felt that he should reach the 
house as quickly as possible, to get this nightmare over with.

>>Don't you know that nightmares never end? You only hit the pause button 
when you wake up, and sooner or later, you revisit it. If you run from 
this nightmare, it will be waiting for next time.<< That fear drove Ron 
onward even faster. Was he running from the nightmare? Or was he working 
toward the nightmare's end? The only way to beat a nightmare is to finish 
it without waking up. Ron's fear was that his nightmare was waking up.

On and on he walked. The hours passed on, and the moon set, but the sun 
did not come. The sky never lightened. Thick clouds rolled over the sky, 
and a heavy, despairing rain deluged the valley of Ron's dream. Finally, 
as if to surprise him, Ron's destination was suddenly very close. Only 
mere yards away. And suddenly, lightning cracked. But it was the 
brightest flash of lightning he had ever witnessed, as if looking upon a 
nuclear fireball, and he wondered why there was no thunder. Then he began 
to wonder if he had been the one who was struck.

Michelle circled round, trying to catch Kim off guard. They had been 
fighting for what seemed like hours, but was certainly only a few 
minutes. They moved with blinding speed, flying more than running, and 
barely touching the ground, for it was not safe to be on the ground where
the other could remove it from beneath your feet, and then you would be 
at a disadvantage.

The other difficulty was that both women had been combat trained by the 
same expert. That expert was currently an unconscious witness to their 
struggle for supremacy. Not unlike lions fighting over a pride, the girls 
fought for primacy of place beside their leader.

Kim lunged suddenly, unexpectedly. Michelle swiveled aside, and Kimberly 
missed, but a sharp pain sprang up on Michelle's side, as a deep gash 
appeared. Her clothing was in tatters, as was Kim's. Michelle took the 
single moment when Kim had her back turned, and lasered a vicious attack. 
Kim was caught in the middle of her back, and fell to the ground, 
momentarily disoriented.

But Michelle was not quick enough to take advantage of this. Kimberly 
rolled over, and whipped her hands out, forming a flaming ball of energy 
which she hurled at Michelle, who tried to duck it, but it was a guided 
weapon, and it followed her every move. She moved behind and between 
trees, but it dogged her every turn. It finally caught her, and fried off 
the remaining scraps of her blouse, leaving her top clad in only a bra.

Michelle was familiar with these techniques as well, and she formed her 
own ball of energy. This one, however, was a feint, and when Kimberly 
went to duck it, she ran straight into the real attack, an invisible 
energy wall, which caught her and threw her roughly to the ground. She 
was immediately on, and then above, her feet, floating and ready for the 
next attack.

Michelle readied herself, but before she could begin, a flurry of doves 
flew at her. She ducked and swerved before she realized that the doves 
were nearly transparent, and could not be real. That was of little 
comfort as she felt a mental blast rock through her body, and her powers
seized for just a fraction of a second. It was long enough for her to 
fall fifteen feet to the ground. She let out a loud "oof", but rolled to 
her feet. Kimberly was ready, and she plunged down out of the sun...

But was it the sun? Wasn't the sun over in the other direction? The light 
grew brighter until Michelle could no longer look at it, her eyes closing 
automatically. Kimberly was luckier, faced only with the reflection of 
the light... but that reflection was off snow, an almost perfect mirror for 
such brightness. She was completely blinded, and she plowed into 
Michelle, taking them both to the ground.

Michelle felt an impact, and was amazed at just how heavy sunshine could 
be, until her head contacted the ground, and she passed out. Kimberly, 
similarly unconscious, remained on top of her, their fight, at least 
temporarily, over.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

End  Part 7

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