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From: pjurado@aol.com (PJurado)
Subject: Gen 13: Face-Off Chp.1 by PJ (M/f, rape)
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Gen 13: Face-Off by PJ

warning.  adult content.

Chapter 1

	Miguel Santiago sat quietly at his desk, reading a report on the
inset computer screen installed within its surface.  Soft, warm
sunlight poured from a window to Miguel's right, illuminating his
brown skin and glossy black hair.   One of the double doors to his
office opened, admitting his beautiful secretary, Carmen.

	"Sir, Security just picked up a spatial disturbance in North
America, at the location where we lost our recovery team and the
gen-active test subjects," reported the young woman.

	"Did they get a firm lock on the females?" inquired Miguel as he
looked up from his screen.

	"Yes, and they detected the cybernetic signature of John Lynch,"
replied the raven-haired assistant.

	"So, he did betray me," muttered Miguel darkly.  "Get back to
Security.  I want three assault teams after the gen-actives, capture
if possible, terminate if capture is impossible."


	John Lynch sat at a small workstation, typing furiously on a
keyboard as he scanned the Matrix for information.  Caitlin Fairchild
loaded a fresh magazine into one of Lynch's auto-pistols as she sat
cross-legged on a twin bed, then she began disassembling an assault
rifle for cleaning.  Roxy Spaulding lay on her stomach upon another
twin bed, drinking soda while watching "Broken Arrow" with Muerte.

	"When are we leaving this shit-hole town?" asked Roxy petulantly,
her skin covered with a thin sheet of sweat from the heat outside.

	"As soon as I figure out how to get Aztechnology off our trail,"
replied Lynch while he continued to gather data from the Matrix.

	"Haven't they given up on us by now?" asked Caitlin.

	"They'll never give up until they either capture us or kill us.
They'll be especially eager to get me since I betrayed them," answered
John with a grimace.

	"Let's leave the country then, go to Europe or something," suggested
Roxy.

	"That's not a bad idea, actually," admitted John.  "Let me see what
I can schedule."

	John worked on his terminal for the rest of the day, while Caitlin
went over all of their remaining gear and Roxy restrained her natural
impulse to shop or go clubbing. Muerte sat in a lotus position on the
floor, meditating.  It was late at night, when Roxy had finally fallen
asleep and Caitlin was watching CNN, when Lynch spun around in his
chair, his eyes narrowed with alertness.

	"An aircraft is coming, military grade," growled John.

	Caitlin tossed Lynch his rifle, then shook Roxy awake, pressing a
pistol into the sleepy girl's hands.  A dull roar grew steadily closer
as a bright light filled the hotel room's only window.  Lynch rushed
to the side of the window, then carefully peeked from behind the thin
drape.

	"Aztechnology assault chopper, coming right for us," hissed John.  

	Caitlin ran to the other side of the window, crouching low as Roxy
hid behind her bed, pistol shaking in her small hands while Muerte
knelt beside her.

	"This is Lt. Guererra commanding Aztechnology Special Ops.  You will
discard any weapons and come out with your hands up.  If you do not
comply in ten seconds, I am authorized to open fire and terminate all
four of you," declared the Aztech officer over the helicopter's PA
system.

	"Fuck that," snarled Lynch before he shattered the hotel window with
his rifle and fired a long burst at the chopper's windshield.  Tracers
slapped against the bullet-proof glass, provoking the helicopter's
gunner to open fire.  Gun pods on the chopper's wing stubs flared
hotly as they released hundreds of rounds at the hotel building.
Glass shattered and holes burst along the walls as bullets tore into
the team's room and ravaged the interior.  Lynch maintained a steady
stream of fire, quickly replacing spent mags with fresh ones.  Caitlin
bit her lower lip, then charged out the shattered door of the room,
standing defiantly in the helicopter's search light.  A gun pod locked
on the tall, slim girl's form, spitting out a loud stream of bullets.
Caitlin staggered slightly under the assault, her green jumpsuit
tearing in several places, revealing her flat belly and graceful arms.
Caitlin crouched down, then jumped towards the hovering chopper, her
shoulder length red hair billowing in the wake of her ascent.

	Caitlin landed on the nose of the chopper, then she quickly jumped
again to the aircraft's right wing stub.  She tore the gun pods from
their mounts, then let them drop to the ground below while she punched
her way inside the vehicle's passenger bay.  The chopper began a slow
dive as Cat neutralized the crew, then took over the pilot's chair
just as the ground filled the cockpit view.  She yanked back hard on
the control stick, barely pulling the craft out of its fatal descent.
Caitlin carefully landed the chopper in the hotel's parking lot, then
shut off the engines before leaving.

	"Good work, Caitlin," nodded John with a smile before he hugged the
panting young woman.

	"Thank you, sir," replied Cat as she returned John's hug, her arms
tight around his waist.

	"Now what do we do?" asked Roxy behind Lynch, her short black hair
whipping about her face from the chopper blade's backwash.

	"Santiago will keep coming after us unless we neutralize him.  We go
to Azlan, to finish this once and for all," declared John.

	"Great plan," retorted Roxy, her eyes rolling upwards to heaven.   


	Dr. Walsh gazed intently at his computer display, watching columns
of data scroll down the screen.  The glowing characters gave his face
a menacing appearance as he looked up from his work to stare hungrily
at Copycat, who lay unconscious within a stasis tube.  Her young body
was naked within the large glass tube, floating in clear, viscous
green fluid.  The scientist's leering eyes lingered on her small,
budding breasts, tight belly, and thin bush of red pubic hair.  A
second stasis tube held Sublime, while yet a third held Walsh's newest
subject, a Hispanic girl code-named Foxfire.  Dr. Walsh finished
compiling his latest test data, saved it in his database for further
study, then locked the lab's doors with a touch of a button on his
console.  Smiling in lewd anticipation, Walsh walked to Copycat's
tank, then punched a sequence into the access pad beneath it.  The
green suspension fluid drained out of the glass tube, then the capsule
hissed open, the glass receding downwards.   Copycat remained comatose
as Dr. Walsh picked up her light body and carried her to one of his
examination tables.  He laid the nude girl carefully on the cold
metal, then he ran his hands up and down her flesh, his lips trembling
while he caressed her young tits and slim thighs.

	Copycat coughed loudly, spitting out vestiges of green fluid from
her lungs.   She opened her eyes slowly, then turned her head to look
at Dr. Walsh.

	"What..what happened?" asked Copycat weakly.

	"I've been performing some experiments on you, isolating your
gen-factor for duplication," replied Walsh distractedly, his hands
prying the girl's legs apart, exposing her tiny pink pussy.

	"What are you doing?" inquired Copycat dazedly, her brain foggy from
the after- effects of stasis.

	"Just examining you.  Lay back and relax," soothed Walsh before he
lowered his face over Copycat's crotch, pressing his mouth into the
soft folds of her labia.

	Copycat gasped in shock, her legs trembling as the doctor sucked
loudly on her cunt, his tongue probing her little vagina roughly.  The
young girl grasped the edges of the examination table, biting her
lower lip to stifle her moans while Walsh devoured her pussy, his cold
lips chewing on her delicate petals of warm flesh.  The scientist slid
his left hand up Copycat's smooth stomach, wrapping his fingers around
her right tit, crushing it in a strong grip.  A groan escaped
Copycat's mouth, perspiration glistening on her pale brow as she
closed her eyes, her crotch on fire with helpless lust.  Walsh lapped
his tongue up and down her quivering slit, tasting her musky
sweetness, then circling around her tiny asshole, covering the orifice
with his mouth before sucking on it desperately.  Copycat moaned
deeply, her cunt becoming wet with her juices, her small breasts
heaving with each gasping breath.  Walsh licked the insides of the
naked girl's firm thighs, biting the tender skin, leaving small tooth
marks on her young flesh.  Copycat writhed under the doctor's wanton
touch, her skin gleaming with sweat while she wiggled her hips, her
pussy melting from sensual heat.

	Dr. Walsh backed away from the moaning young girl, unfastened his
trousers, then discarded them on the floor.  He climbed up onto the
polished examination table, then rammed his erect cock into Copycat's
small cunt, shoving it deep into her warm belly.  Copycat groaned
loudly, her tiny hands pressing weakly on Walsh's chest as he pumped
his member into her womb, his meat caressing the moist walls of her
vagina.  Copycat's slim legs lay spread apart limp and trembling while
the doctor fucked her slit, his hips shoving forward mechanically,
irresistibly, forcing his rod deep into her young stomach.  Tears
dripped down Copycat's cheeks as she lay helpless beneath the horny
man, her pussy invaded by a thick, insatiable pole of lust.  Walsh's
crotch slapped obscenely against Copycat's, wet, squishing sounds
marking each thrust into the naked girl's dripping cunt.  With a low
grunt, Walsh climaxed, shooting his load into Copycat's warm depths.
The scientist slowly removed his cock from the sobbing girl's pussy,
then cleaned the head in her batch of pubic hair.   Walsh took
Copycat's right arm, then pulled her into a sitting position.
Ignoring the nude girl's tears, Walsh kissed her forcefully on the
mouth, his lips enjoying the taste of her sweet skin.  Breaking away
slowly, the doctor pulled lightly on Copycat's lower lip with his
mouth, then brushed back her sweat- drenched hair.  Walsh dragged
Copycat off the examination table, then led her back to the stasis
tank.

	"Please..don't put me back in there," begged Copycat, her lips
quivering with fear.

	"Nonsense.  The stasis treatments are curing your multiple
personality disorder, you didn't suffer one episode while I fucked
you," smiled Dr. Walsh benevolently.

	"No, don't!" protested Copycat as the doctor shoved her inside the
tank and closed it quickly.  The naked girl beat her small hands
ineffectually on the thick glass as fresh green fluid gushed out of
vent ports, swiftly filling the tube.  Copycat gulped in mouthfuls of
the thick, clinging fluid, her lungs burning until they adjusted to
the oxygen- rich substance.  Waves of drowsiness washed over Copycat's
terrified mind, lulling her back into unconsciousness.

	Dr. Walsh licked his lips, the taste of Copycat still lingering in
his mouth.   He made sure that the girl was safely back in stasis,
then he left to write his report and inform Mr. Santiago of his
success.  ***************************

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