Gene Polanski, Male, 45

	- Business VP, husband of Tamara, father of Lauren, Finch, and Logan

	- tanned beige skin, 6'1, 210lbs, short peppered grey-black hair

Tamara Khouri-Polanski, Female, 43

	- Professor, wife of Gene, mother of Lauren, Finch, and Logan

	- dark olive skin, 5'6, 150lbs, shoulder-length curly rich brown hair with natural red highlights

Lauren Khouri-Polanski, Female, 15

	- High school freshman, daughter of Gene and Tamara, sister of Finch and Logan

	- medium olive skin, 5'8, 150lbs, back-length curly black-brown hair, colored white-streaked highlights

Finch Khouri-Polanski, Male, 14

	- Eigth-grader, son of Gene and Tamara, brother of Lauren and Logan

	- dark olive skin, 5'6, 145lbs, ear-length curly rich brown hair with natural red highlights

Logan Khouri-Polanski, Male, 12

	- Sixth-grader, son of Gene and Tamara, brother of Lauren and Finch

	- medium olive skin, 5'1, 110lbs, ear-length straight black hair

Holly Bridgewater, Female, 19

	- Agent of Marker 1, sister of Anna

	- Bronze-tanned skin, 5'1, 100lbs, straight shoulder-length straw-blonde hair

Dr. Erns Henderson, Male, 40ish

	- Associate of Panthea, husband of Juliana, father of Hannah and Georges

	- Dark beige skin, 7'0, 280lbs, unkempt black hair.

Juliana Henderson, Female, 40ish

	- wife of Dr. Henderson, mother of Hannah and Georges

	- Dark tan skin, 5'0, 100lbs, long dark hair

Hannah Henderson, Female, 15

	- daughter of Dr. Henderson and Juliana, twin sister of Georges

	- Dark beige skin, 5'10, 160lbs, long dark-brown hair in a ponytail

Georges Henderson, Male, 15

	- son of Dr. Henderson and Juliana, twin brother of Hannah

	- Dark beige skin, 5'10, 165lbs, mousy dark-brown hair

Panthea (Silk Purse), Female, early 50s

	- A woman with an unknown background

	- Brown-grey skin, 5'7, 140lbs, short curly black-silk hair

Adam (Silver) Silverbaum, Male, late-20s

	- M1 Technician

	- Ashy beige skin, 5'7, 150lbs, ear-length black hair

Marisa, Female, early-30s

	- M1 Technician

	- Light almond skin, 5'3, 110lbs, short dark-brown hair

Bendal, Male, late-30s

	- M1 Technician

	- Pale freckled skin, 5'8, 160lbs, shaved bald head

Major Ingrid Danielson, Female, late-40s

	- M1 Officer

	- Tanned, freckled beige skin, 5'11, 175lbs, cropped coppery-red hair	

“How the fuck does anyone put up with this?” Gene grumbled. The darkness of the tunnel was becoming a prison, the only lights along the tracks hung every quarter mile or so, and the instruments and interior lights in the train car did little to push back the blackness around them. It was making him moody even as he'd napped a couple of times.

They'd been in the tunnel for almost a day already. The train seemed to randomly slow and stop, sometimes for an hour at a time, no station or platform in sight. Silver cautioned them to stay on board, that the stops and slowdowns could signal that someone was carefully planning the train's movements to avoid snoops or above-ground areas which might be able to detect its passing. There had been no further explosions after their first hour, so as far as Gene knew, the tracks were no longer being blown.

“Easy, Gene,” Marisa said wearily. “Trust me, this shit isn't my favorite either. We'll get there when we get there.”

They had all slept along the way, though the bench seats and hard metal floor had offered little comfort. There were no blankets and only bare air flow, and the car alternated being cold and hot below the surface. Gene was beginning to have his doubts that the creaking, rumbling tram would hold together long enough to get anywhere before it broke into a million little pieces. Each time it rounded a corner, the whole thing shifted and leaned, loud metallic groans making it clear that the old train car had seen better days.

Gene hated the waiting. There was nothing to do, and he'd had no interest in responding to Holly's advances even when she'd pulled up her shirt and exposed her lovely breasts while straddling his knees a few hours earlier. The young woman was insatiable, he knew, but his mood had soured quickly in the darkness, and he couldn't be coaxed to do anything more than growl at her and push her from his lap. Holly had sulked a moment before playing with herself in the darkness. Gene did his best to ignore her and get some sleep.

Wherever they were headed, they were all feeling the stress from the waiting, the endless darkness, and the strange sense of being pushed through the earth by forces beyond their control.

“Hey, getting something new,” Silver yelled over the rattle and hum of the car's movement. Gene's eyes opened and he moved with Holly to stand over the man's shoulder where he pointed to the laptop screen. “Listen...”

Silver unplugged his earpiece and Gene heard a series of beeps interleaved with static and pops. To Gene, it meant nothing. Silver explained, “no signal down here for sats, and not much else since we left. I can sometimes pick up the feed coming into the train car, but it's not terribly interesting, probably just giving it control orders to slow or stop or speed up. This is different.”

“What is it?” Holly asked, staring at the waves moving across the laptop screen.

“Unsure. But, it's different. The signal's getting stronger by the minute. We may be getting closer to something interesting.”

Gene stared ahead quietly. Holly's arm snaked around his waist. He looked at her and saw the young blonde grinning. “Interesting is good, right, Gene?”

He groaned. “Not usually.”

“Aww, party pooper. Come on, Gene. We've been down here for a day or so. I know you're ready to see something other than this tunnel.”

“Of course. But I think you and I define 'interesting' very differently, Holly. You're just a bit crazy, you know.”

She purred and slid her hand over his ass. “Crazy, sure. I've been called worse. Just crazy enough, I like to think. Getting wet just thinking about whatever comes next.”

“Is there anything that doesn't make you wet, Holly?”

She stared into the dark tunnel ahead. “Hmm... I'll have to think about that. Tough question.”

Gene shook his head and his eyes caught a slight increase in the dim lighting a good distance down the straight tracks in front of them, “hey...” he started.

“I see it,” Marisa said, “something definitely up ahead.”

Bendal shifted in his seat and already had his pack over his shoulders, his firearm slung over his neck. “We should be ready for anything.”

Gene nodded, growing tense. Holly slid his pack onto his back and he tested the cool metal of his pistol on his hip. She grinned at him, barely visible in the darkness, “mmm... I'm ready for anything,” she said, running a hand between her legs.

Gene closed his eyes and exhaled.

Holly laughed and put her arm around his waist again. “Gene, Gene, Gene... will you ever loosen up?”

“Not until I find my family.”

He heard genuine sympathy in her response. “We'll find them... I promise.”

Gene wished he could believe her words.

- - -

For most of the last day, the van had moved steadily through the mountains in the darkness, then parked well back from the road during the daylight. Henderson had insisted they were safer moving at night, and they made a rough camp in the Italian mountains where they stayed quiet and hidden as best they could. Finch had heard only a few vehicles on the nearby roads, and he noticed that either Henderson or Panthea stayed alert even as the others napped.

He found himself awake an hour or so before dusk. Only Panthea was outside the tents, leaning back against a tree a quarter mile or so from where they had pulled off the road and hidden along the backside of a ridge.

She saw him approach and nodded in his direction, moving the gun around so that it was not pointed in his direction. The woman's wounds were still obvious, and her movements suggested she still suffered a great deal of pain.

Panthea said nothing as he walked up and stood next to her in silence. He hadn't really thought about what to say to the woman who had saved his life many days earlier, but he tried to express his thoughts anyway. “Thanks... for helping us.”

She nodded, looking at him a moment, “you're welcome.”

“Did you know? That... people might try to kill you because of us?”

“People always try to kill me. I'm used to it.”

“Why?”

She smiled slowly. “Because of what I do. Who I know. Things I've done.” She didn't offer to explain.

“Oh,” Finch said quietly, “well... thanks. I'm sorry you got hurt... I'm glad you didn't die.”

“You and me both, boy. It was close.”

“How'd you survive? When we left... we were sure you were dead...”

“Luck, mostly. I managed to patch myself up and stop the bleeding. They set fire to my place, which bought me some time since they stopped shooting at me while they approached. I killed two of them near the back door, then headed down the ridge to a spot where I could watch the approaches and I hid for a while, licking my wounds.”

“Wow...” Finch still couldn't believe the woman had lived. The way she looked when he and his sibling had left suggested she'd have been dead within moments.

Panthea looked at him again. “Glad you three were able to make it to Henderson. He's a good man.”

“Yeah... and Juliana's been really good to us. Their farm was amazing! And... oh...” Finch remembered how they'd had to rush from that idyllic place when Henderson had feared someone was coming for them.

“Don't let the past make you suffer, Finch. Remember it, but don't let it control you. Henderson knew what he was doing bringing you three there. He knew the risks. I have no doubt that once we get you where we're going, he'll find a way to make the farm a sanctuary again.”

“Where do you think he's taking us?”

Panthea shrugged, “Genoa, but to whom... no idea. Henderson guards his secrets well. That's one of the reasons I trusted him with your lives.” She shifted against the tree and stood straight. “Do me a favor, Finch, keep your eyes up that way a minute, towards the road. Need to relieve myself.”

“Ok...” Finch stood and gazed to where the ridge rose above their campsite and was covered with a long line of thick trees. Panthea leaned her weapon against the tree, moved just a few feet away, and pulled her pants down to her ankles, panties crumpled inside. Despite her instructions, he was drawn to where the woman's thin but enticing backside spread out as she began to urinate.

Without turning to watch him, she called back, “you watching your sector, or are you watching me piss?”

“I, uh...” Finch stuttered.

Panthea chuckled, her stream running strong before slowing to a trickle. “You and your sister just can't stop thinking about sex, can you?”

“Whu...?”

Panthea stood up and righted her panties and jeans without wiping. “Just what I said. You two are a lot a like that way. No wonder the two of you are committing incest.”

“Whu...?” Finch repeated, louder.

“Shh... don't worry, I'll not tell your secrets,” the woman said as she picked up her rifle, clearly amused.

Finch remembered that Panthea had encouraged him to join Hannah and his sister in the house before they had headed towards Genoa. She'd not mentioned anything about incest, and he hadn't realized that the woman knew that he and Lauren were having sex. “Ok... uh... thanks...”

Panthea smiled at him a moment before scanning towards the road. “Your sister's a nice young woman, Finch. A nice young woman. Maybe other people would never understand,” she said, nodding towards where the others slept in pup tents, “but I'll keep your secret as long as you aren't harming each other.”

Finch watched her a moment, uncertain how to respond.

She looked back towards the higher part of the ridge where the road ran behind the trees. “Your sister and I have had a few moments, Finch.” She eyed him again, “did you know that?”

“N-no... no...”

Panthea nodded, “thought not.” She turned towards him a moment, was quiet suddenly. “Doubt we really have anything to worry about here. If you'll be quick, I'd like to see if you taste like her at all...”

“Wh-what?”

“Keep your eyes up that way... and try to be quick...”

Panthea rested her gun against the tree again and knelt in front of Finch, her hands moving to unzip his fly. He felt excitement and nerves bouncing inside him as she fished out his cock and quickly slid it between her lips. Finch grew hard quickly, the woman's mouth so warm and wet, milking him and sucking his length with a slurping sound. He did his best to keep watch, but Panthea's lips made it difficult to concentrate on anything else.

Only moments later, he started to cum. His cock twitched in Panthea's mouth and he started to flood her with his warm semen. The woman held still as his seed emptied between her lips, Finch's penis throbbing out each spurt of sticky cream against her tongue. She waited until he had nearly finished, then pulled back and swallowed, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Panthea tucked his cock back in his pants and gave his crotch a pat. “Mmm... your dick tastes a lot like your sister's pussy, but your cum is more salty... see anything to worry us?”

Finch buzzed, could only shake his head. She smiled at him, “hope that was alright, Finch.”

“Of... of course, yeah... any time...”

“Maybe we'll get a chance for you to return the favor. Another time.” Panthea picked up her rifle and nodded towards the tents. “Get them roused, we should eat and then move out soon.”

Finch stumbled as best he could back down to where the camp had been set, still not believing Panthea had sucked his dick and swallowed his load.

- - -

“What do you mean you caught him... who?” Tamara had been ordered into a small, nondescript office in a plain grey building after walking most of the afternoon around the compound's perimeter fence. Major Danielson came in a few minutes after her. “Who?”

“Your partner. The man who you were with in Istanbul.”

“Hannigan?” Tamara blurted out, immediately regretting using his name.

“Perhaps. He has a lot of names, it seems.”

“I don't understand. You caught him... how? Where?”

Danielson shrugged. “He came to us on his own. We're... talking... with him now. That's really all I can tell you.”

“Is he here? Can I see him? Please?” News that Hannigan had resurfaced made her heart leap into her throat. She thought she'd never see him again.

Danielson shook her head. “No... not at this time. I'll let you know should that change.”

“But why? He saved my life, many times! He's a good guy!”

Danielson narrowed her eyes. “Good guy... Bad guy... not much distinction these days, Mrs. Polanski.” She seemed to understand the reasons Tamara's glances shot from door to window back to the door. “Don't get any ideas, Tamara, please.” Her voice softened a touch. “I know he was your friend, but I doubt you know as much about him as I do. I have... reason to doubt his sincerity, regardless. That's all I can say.”

When Tamara didn't respond, Danielson's hand moved to Tamara's shoulder. “Can I... can I offer you a moment of comfort, Tamara?”the woman said, clearly unused to offering such a direct kindness.

“What?” Tamara couldn't believe Danielson was suggesting something intimate. “No... no...

The Major withdrew her hand and looked uncertain. “Oh, I just thought that... never mind.”

“I'd really like to see him, Ingrid. Please. If there is any way...”

The woman watched her a moment, then turned towards the door. “I'll see what I can do, Mrs. Polanski. For now, accept that this is out of your control. I'll find you if things change.” She left quickly and Tamara boiled in the small room.

She wondered if it was true that Hannigan had come to them on his own. Given how he'd reacted when they'd gotten to the compound near Istanbul, she knew he wished to avoid being caught by the group. He'd said a little about why, but she wondered if there was much more to the story than he'd let on. It worried her to not know. She truly had come to love the man, even after just a few brief days and weeks together.

Tamara took a few long, deep breaths and tried to resolve herself to more boredom and anxiety. It was out of her hands. She left the room and returned to slowly circling around the grounds of the compound.

- - -

Logan's cock was sore. He'd already masturbated four times during the hours spent resting in the mountains. He rode in the middle row of seats in the van on the right side, Hannah to his left, leaning somewhat against him. The sounds of snores behind him suggested that, like the girl beside him, others were sleeping, as well.

Henderson was driving, the last hour of the trip in complete darkness, his wife talking softly to him from the front. Logan had asked the man to tell him about who they would see in Genoa, but Henderson had shaken his head and suggested that Logan would see for himself when they got there.

With no answers, and nothing much to do, he'd masturbated whenever anyone wasn't looking, and twice while his sister had been half asleep and watching him without much interest. He spurted into his pants each time, and he was aware of how sticky and stinky his clothes were becoming. He wondered if Hannah knew what that smell was.

She was snoring lightly, and appeared not to have noticed it as she shifted more and more to lean against him. Logan liked Hannah a lot. She was soft and he loved her smile. It made him hard again to think about how they'd been together, and he wished they had time to do so right then.

As his cock grew erect, he was aware again of how sore it felt. He was a bit raw, a sensation which wasn't unfamiliar to him. He kind of liked to get to that point. It was almost a badge of honor. Logan grinned and without another thought, slipped his hand into his underwear and fondled his lightly-hairy balls.

Hannah stirred and stared down at this lap. She leaned up a bit and whispered, “Logan... someone might see you...”

“Just touching it... and they won't if I go slow...”

Hannah looked forward a moment, then turned back with a grin. “Here,” she said, pulling the blanket from the floorboard and covering herself and Logan with it. “You be really, really quiet, okay? Promise...”

“Promise...”

Logan knew he had the freedom to play, and he unzipped his jeans, pulling his sensitive, hard penis out along with his balls, pushing his pants down a few inches.

“Logan,” Hannah said quietly, “what is that... smell...”

“Oh,” he said, “uh... I guess... uh...”

Her fingers ran across his balls and then down to his underwear. “Jeez, Logan... how many times have you jerked it today?”

He shrugged, chuckling, “four.”

“Four?” Lauren's tone was one of mild surprise, “and you're doing it again... boys!” She laughed quietly. “Well, I'll catch the next one in my mouth...”

Logan couldn't believe she was willing to stomach the smell of his drying semen or the taste of his raw, soiled flesh, but he felt Hannah's soft lips slide over his skin. Even where he burned dully, it felt soothing. Hannah slowly drew her mouth up and down his short shaft, and Logan did his best to suppress his moans.

Up and down she moved, up and down, pausing to slurp quietly, then up and down, up and down. He grew tense and the fire in his little cock boiled to a raging, throbbing pulse of pleasure. He started to ejaculate, the spare drops of semen he produced felt like gallons. Even though he knew he only came a small volume in Hannah's mouth, his penis swelled with each spurt.

She let him fill her throat with his seed, then swallowed it, using her tongue to lick up the one or two drops which had slipped from her lips. Hannah rose up and kissed his cheek. “Next time... just come find me... that way, you don't make such a mess in your pants.”

“Oh... okay. Thanks.”

“Anytime. It's not bad, you know.”

“What?”

“The way it smells. I kinda like it. I know it's your cum I smell. Maybe later, you can smell where I've been creaming my panties all day, too.”

“Yeah... yeah, I wanna do that...”

“Later... when we can do it properly,” she whispered. “Put that away for now. Don't think anyone noticed us...”

- - -

Tamara's nerves were on edge and she was growing angry. No one would talk to her about Hannigan, and she hadn't seen Danielson since the brief moments earlier that day. It was well after sunset and Tamara stewed on the steps to the small hut she'd been given to sleep in. She'd tried for hours to find out anything. No matter who she asked, she was met with shrugs and suggestions for rest and patience.

She wondered why he might have come to Salzburg. Tamara had left him in Turkey, turning herself over to the M1 forces there, Hannigan melting back into the countryside. Why would he have followed them so far only to turn himself in? It made no sense. Tamara couldn't imagine what would have led the man to do that, and it worried her tremendously to think that his reception had probably not been a kind one. It worried her, too, to think that Hannigan, a man who had saved her life and shared her body during a stressful journey, might have been hiding secrets about his past which might have revealed him to be something other than the 'good guy' he'd been to her.

Sure, she understood that everyone had skeletons, and given Hannigan's experiences before pulling Tamara from the grips of Playa Gordo mercs, he surely would have done things which might have been unsavory. She hoped it was nothing more than what was necessary to defend his comrades. She hoped his past was not so awful that she might come to think of him less fondly.

Whatever it was, Tamara tried not to dwell so much on the unknown. Whatever he'd been before rescuing her, to Tamara, he had been a gentleman and a friend. He'd been willing to sacrifice himself many times to see her to safety, and what else was in his past couldn't undue that kindness.

“Mrs. Polanski.” Danielson's voice broke into her thoughts as the woman strode up in the darkness.

“Yes?”

“Come with me. You can see him. Briefly.”

“Oh, thank you... thank you.”

Danielson walked off without acknowledging Tamara further and led her to a building north of the main residence huts. Inside, she took her past two guards and down stairs which led into a bunker complex underground. Through a narrow hallway, Danielson marched ahead, turning left into another narrow passage, then stopped at a nondescript door with another guard nearby. “You have five minutes.” Danielson peered into the room through a small eyehole, then opened it slightly.

Tamara swept in quickly, the door closed before she had taken in what was inside.

Hannigan lay slumped on a cot, bandages on his arm and neck, facing the wall. He looked like he'd lost ten pounds, his clothing ripped in places, his hair ragged and unkempt. He didn't turn over until Tamara said quietly, “Hannigan?”

Very slowly, his body moved and she saw his face looked for the first time. Tamara gasped to see dark bruises around both eyes and rough, freshly-healed scars on his cheek and across his jaw. “Tamara,” the man said weakly, “good to see you...”

“Oh, Marcus!” she said, dropping to her knees beside his cot, “what happened? Who did this?”

He stared into her eyes a moment, his gaze unsteady, then glanced towards the door, saying nothing further.

“Them? M1?”

“Not all of it...”

“Who then?”

He ignored her question. “You're not safe, Tamara. You're not safe.”

“What do you mean?” she pleaded with him.

“They're coming to take you out of here.” He nodded towards the door. “I told what I know to Major Danielson and her... friends. I don't know if they believe me... but you're not safe. You need to run. Go. Go now!”

“Hannigan... I can't!” She was unable to understand his insistence. “I can't leave. They won't let me!”

“Do anything. Steal a truck and ram through the gate if you must. They'll be here before dawn.”

“Who? Who?!”

“Victor... and Haul.”

“Chaster Haul?”

“Yes. They realized too late that you are more than just a pawn to draw in your husband. They think you know something. And they're on their way to take it from you.”

Tamara swallowed her fear a moment, eyes wide, searching Hannigan's face. Danielson's words bounced through her head, and they continued to seed doubts. “Can I trust you, Marcus?”

“What?”

“Can I trust you? Whatever you did before you saved me... Danielson and the others don't trust you.”

“They shouldn't,” he growled, his dry throat starting to wheeze.

“Should I?” Tamara asked more quietly.

He stared at her a moment, unblinking. “You're in danger, Tamara. You must go. Run. Please. No matter what else you hear about me... know this. I love you. I've only ever tried to see you to safety, nothing more. Go. Please. Go. Run!”

Tamara stood, unable to do more than watch his face as he coughed, his expression filled with pain, his arm over his chest. “You're coming with me, then.”

“No!” he shouted, then more quietly, “they won't let you take me. Leave me, Tamara. You die here if you don't get out. I can't help you more.”

“But I won't leave you... I love you, too, Hannigan... I won't leave you...”

“Yes,” he whispered, “you will... because... you remember how much you love your husband... your children. They need you, Tamara. Run. Go find them. Get away. Please... please...” He erupted in coughing again and the door to the room opened quickly.

“Time's up,” the guard barked, holding his pistol steady just below where Hannigan struggled to breath.

“Hannigan...” Tamara said, distraught.

“You have to go...” he replied as he turned back to face the wall.

The guard grabbed Tamara's arm and pulled her out the door, slamming it shut behind him. He escorted her back to where Danielson waited near the steps up to the main level.

“Why don't you trust him, Ingrid?” Tamara asked, dropping the formality and looking the woman in the eye.

Danielson waited until the guard had retreated back towards Hannigan's cell. “Walk with me,” she commanded.

Tamara's pulse throbbed through her body, her stomach in knots.

She was led behind another building near where the latrines were dug. The smell was disgusting and overpowering. Danielson stopped and turned towards her. “Two years ago, the man you know as Marcus Hannigan went by a different name, Joseph Littleton. Before that, he was Ken Lander. Before that... who knows. He worked for M1 for a while. I don't know much about his intelligence assignments, but I know that it was his work which led M1 to foolishly attempt to take out a Playa Gorda compound near Rome. I led the platoon that went in, forty-four of us in all. I came out with seven.”

Tamara watched the woman's face in the near-darkness.

Danielson continued, “it was his activities, his assurances, which led us into that moment. He told us there were no more than a dozen mercs there, that they were green and poorly-led. He claimed we could finally get our hands on a coded key we needed to break messages, that it was an easy task with minimal risk. He set us up, Tamara. We were met by a company of mercs, and they were anything but green. By the time I got back to base with the survivors, he had disappeared. We learned only later that he'd been working with Playa Gordo all along. He set us up, Tamara. My men died because of him. He is a traitor.”

Tamara was silent a moment. “Marcus told me that he had learned that Victor was playing dirty, that he'd only worked with Playa Gordo because he felt Victor was up to something too dangerous to let be. He tried to warn a few people, no one seemed to believe him.”

“Victor is not my concern anymore.”

“But he damn sure should be, Ingrid!” Tamara exploded. “He tried to kill me! He tried to kidnap my husband and torture him! He'll do anything to get his way, even if that means making it look like Marcus turned coat and led your men into an ambush. Can you not see how easily Victor manipulated everyone?”

Danielson stared at her a moment, then let out a breath. She sounded more unsure than Tamara could recall. “I don't know... I'm just a grunt, Tamara. Just a grunt. I'm good leading soldiers, I'm good with weapons. I don't play the power games that Victor and Marcus play. I can't pretend to understand the motivations.”

Tamara took Danielson's hand in hers. “Trust me now, Ingrid. Please. Whatever history you have with Marcus, trust him right now. Victor is coming. Tonight. I'm sure he told you this. He'll kill everyone to get to me and it won't matter whether you trust Marcus or not.”

“Why do you believe that, Tamara? Because Marcus said so?”

“Yes and no. I believe he's coming tonight because Marcus has always been honest with me, and he's protected me. I may not be able to change your mind about him, but I trust him, Ingrid. And... there's something else... something they want from me...”

“What?”

“I... I don't know. I thought it was just my husband who knew something, but... there's been something tickling my thoughts... something trying to come out... I think Victor has realized something about me that I can't yet figure out. I'm worried that, whatever it is my husband knows, I'm part of it as well... He's brutal, Ingrid. Victor is brutal. Please... I have to leave.”

“Not happening--”

“Ingrid, see reason. Why are you protecting me? Why am I here?”

“Because...” the woman trailed off and didn't complete her thought.

“Because,” Tamara continued, “Victor and others want something from me. Because you think you have in me something of value worth protecting. You aren't protecting me if you ignore what Marcus is telling you. You're just playing into Victor's hands by making me stay here.”

“We'll stop them if they come, Tamara. If Marcus is telling the truth.”

“That's just it. He is telling the truth, I know it. And if Victor comes.... I highly doubt he'll just march up to the gates. Don't you think it is... likely... that there are people inside who are still loyal to Victor?”

“Maybe...” Tamara could tell Danielson was troubled by the thought.

“I have to go. I have to go now. Please... see reason.”

Danielson stewed a moment, uncertainty on her face. That expression melted into the cold, calm resolve Tamara had seen on the woman in the days she'd known her. “Meet me here in twenty minutes.”

“What are we going to do?”

Danielson's voice was firm. “You're going to run.”

- - -

“We're staying here tonight,” Henderson said quietly after he parked the van in a small garage attached to an old brick house outside of Genoa. “Don't go outside.”

Lauren felt nervous, as she often did. Another new hideout, another unknown rendezvous with someone Henderson said little about. She wished they could go back to the farm and forget about running for a while.

Inside the house, she saw old furnishings and everything was coated in dust. There were only three bedrooms, and she tossed her pack into the one she would share with her brothers.

Lauren was sticky and felt like she hadn't been clean in days, the long trip in the van and the day spent sweating in the camp had left no time to bathe or freshen up. She found no one in the bathroom and stepped inside quickly. Lauren dropped her clothes on the floor then turned on the shower. It took just a moment for the steam to grow thick, and she stepped into the hot flow.

It washed away her weariness, at least marginally. There was no soap, but she didn't much care, running her fingers through her hair, between her legs, and along her thighs, wiping away salt and oil from her skin, as well as the light cream she found on her pussy.

For a moment, she stood still, letting the water rush over her.

“Mind if I join you?” Hannah's voice broke into her thoughts. The teen was naked as she swept back the curtain and stepped into the shower without awaiting a response.

“Sure,” Lauren replied after the girl was already inside, “was just finishing.”

“You feeling okay, Lauren?”

“Yeah, just... tired.”

“Me too. I hope we can stay here a while. I really don't like new places, and I really miss home...”

“Sorry we took that from you, Hannah. I really am sorry.”

“No... don't be. It's not your fault. Besides, I'm happy to get to know you... you're a... really nice friend...”

Hannah's hands slid over Lauren's body gently, and in moments the teen was slipping a finger into Lauren's vagina. Lauren moaned and began spreading her thighs as her pleasure started to burn inside her.

Hannah kissed her lips, the hot water splashing down their bodies, and Lauren found the girl's pussy quickly, teasing her clit then circling it rapidly. In moments, they both began to orgasm, trying to muffle moans as their tongues slid together, fingers slippery from the water and from pussy juice. Lauren's knees became shaky after she came, and she nearly fell. Hannah caught her quickly, giggling. “I love making you cum...”

“Mmm... wish we had more time to play around...”

“Yeah... me too... maybe in the morning... doesn't sound like we can go anywhere...”

“I'd like that,” Lauren said just before a big yawn took over her body. “Sleepy...”

“Me too,” Hannah said, mirroring Lauren's yawn. “Guess we should get out so the boys can use it.”

“Yeah...”

Lauren cut off the water and stepped out. They'd neither brought towels and she saw none in the bathroom. “Crap. Guess we have to drip-dry.”

“Or,” Hannah said with a smile, “I could use my tongue...”

Lauren giggled, and despite her weariness, leaned back against the wall while Hannah sank to her knees and started licking the drops of water from her skin.

- - -

Gene crept behind Holly as she followed Bendal onto the small platform. He'd checked ahead and found nothing threatening, motioning them off the train car. The platform was raised from the tracks and had a couple of small lights leading the way through a narrow metal hallway. Bendal scooted forward again and disappeared into the dim light ahead. Holly nodded to Gene, then went more slowly into the hallway. Silver and Marisa followed Gene a few feet behind.

Bendal stopped them again as they neared a door. “A room, then another hallway. Wait in the room, I'll check it out.” While he went off down the next passage, Gene leaned against the wall next to Holly.

“What are you thinking?” he asked her, “are we walking into an ambush?”

“Doubtful. Anyone going to this much effort to take us somewhere without being noticed could have killed us already, or could have taken you. Something else is going on.”

“M1?”

“Maybe, but which cadre after the split? Might be something else. I just don't know, Gene.”

He nodded. “Well, at least we're on our feet again. I've spent more than enough time on trains, subs, choppers, boats, and in cars for the rest of my life. If this ever ends... I think I'll walk everywhere.”

She smiled at him and brushed her hip against his, “aww, come on Gene, there were some good times along the way...”

There was movement from the hallway and Bendal reappeared. There was another person behind him. It took just a second for Gene to recognize her.

“Anna?!” Holly exploded, rushing towards her sister and pinning her against the wall. Anna went limp as Holly pressed a knife against her throat. “Give me a reason,” she shouted, “give me a fucking reason!”

“Holly—I” Anna squeaked.

“Holly!” Bendal screamed, grabbing the blonde's arm, “wait, just wait!”

“I've been waiting... I've been waiting for this, Anna! I've been waiting to make you pay! Now you will. It was you, wasn't it... it was you who caused Dad's death...” Holly growled.

Gene rushed up to the sisters, unable to get between them, heart pounding in his chest.

“Holly!” Bendal shouted again.

There was movement from the hallway, and Gene turned to see a tall man stride in and stand close to the sisters, watching them evenly. “Holly.” The man's voice was calm and smooth, a deep gravel commanding attention. “Let your sister go.”

Holly turned slowly, eyes searching the man a moment. The knife dropped from Anna's throat. Holly's mouth fell open. Anna watched her sister nervously.

It took seconds of anxious silence before the blonde exclaimed, “Dad?!”