Run - Chapter 43: Rolling the Dice (mfb ped inc brother/sister twins creampie oral swallow)

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Chapter 43: Rolling the Dice

The helicopter's roar was muffled by the earphones Gene wore inside the closed bay. Holly was beside him, scrolling through something on her tablet. Two other agents sat opposite them, facing the rear. Gene hadn't yet worked out whether Bridgewater was technically part of M1 or if he was acting alone. When Gene had brought it up just before takeoff, the man simply replied, "Yes to both," and went back to checking on supplies being loaded in the chopper.

Bridgewater sat in the cockpit beside the pilot whose name Gene hadn't been offered. They were on their way to Corsica, darkness still heavy in the deeply-cloudy night. Marisa, Bendal, and two other agents had arrived on the island a short time earlier with word that they believed Tamara had headed South after being chased out of Bastia. They didn't have any specific location beyond that, but they continued to track Gene's wife and tried to stay unnoticed by Victor's forces which appeared to be company-size in the area.

"Anything new?" Gene shouted against Holly's right ear covering.

The blonde shook her head then shouted next to his ear, "Nothing useful. Right now, the plan is to drop in to the southwest of Bastia and regroup with the others. Corsica's a big place. Every minute that goes by, the search area gets bigger."

Gene nodded, then replied, "Any word on who this guy is that's with my wife?"

"We think it's a guy by the name of Simon O'Leary, going by Marcus Hannigan now. Former M1 guy turned Playa Gordo. His background wasn't really clear when he worked with us. I met him once, maybe. Operations guy, smart enough, clever. Whether he's on our side or not, I don't know. Seems he's been with Tamara since the days after the fight at Victor's mansion. I suspect he's not working against her best interests. There have been plenty of chances for him to turn her in to the other teams."

Gene nodded again, "Well, I suppose that's good."

Holly grinned, "Anything which isn't all bad is good right now."

"Something like that."

"We'll find her, Gene."

"I'm not quitting until we do and we're back with my kids."

Holly tilted her head slightly, a soft look on her face, "Your wife is a very lucky woman, Gene. I hope she remembers that after so many weeks with another guy at her side."

"Huh?"

Holly shrugged, "Just saying... You and me, we've had our thing, right? Not really going to be a shock to find out she and O'Leary have gotten close, too..."

"Hmmm." Gene hadn't exactly considered that idea. There was only a small, temporary pang of jealousy in that thought, a sensation he'd felt a time or two during the early days of their open marriage when he'd learned Tamara had a date with some new stud. But he'd gotten over that rather quickly when he saw how much Tamara enjoyed her time with others and rejoined him the day afterwards for some incredibly hot play. Plus, Gene's own success rate was rather decent, as well, and the combination of a wife who wanted to have sex with him more often than before and the availability of other partners for himself had beaten back that jealousy.

That all went a long ways towards how he reacted to Holly's considerations. If it made Tamara's time on the run easier to bear, Gene was happy if she decided O'Leary's company was desirable. Gene certainly had given in to his own urges, enjoying several partners, not the least of which was the young, hot blonde sitting next to him. All Gene really cared about was getting his wife back and returning to his kids. Anything else was comparatively unimportant.

"Do you love me, Gene?" Holly asked.

Gene's heart skipped a beat. Did he hear her right? "Wh-what?"

"Do you love me?"

The question was so odd it didn't really make sense at first. And then it rushed into him and Gene recognized the truth. "Jesus..."

"Is that a 'no,' then?"

"I...," Gene looked down a moment, testing his thoughts. When did this happen? Somehow, over the weeks together, he had come to care about Holly as more than just a great lay and wartime companion. He'd begun to realize the soft looks, the occasional moments of gentleness which crept into her words and actions. She's in love with me! Isn't she? Or is this just a joke to her? "Holly... that's... complicated."

"Not really. Simple yes or no..."

He looked at her face. Is this some new game she's playing? Her expression was muted, unclear, confidently resolved to something. "What do you want me to say?"

"Tell me the truth."

"Yes," Gene said just loud enough to hear above the drone of the chopper, "Yes, I love you..."

Holly's expression didn't change, no sign that his honestly had registered. "Good to know."

"Good to know? What the hell, Holly? Are you fucking with me now?"

She shook her head, then replied, "The complicated part wasn't the answer, Gene. The complicated part is what we do now that it's in the open. We're going to find your wife soon. What then? You love me, yet, how's that going to work when Tamara finds out?"

"I... I don't know, exactly. It doesn't change the truth."

"I know that. I just don't want to run into a buzzsaw when your wife decides I'm the other woman in this triad. I've known you were in love with me for weeks."

"Bullshit."

She shrugged, "Believe what you will. I've had a lot of guys fall in love with me, Gene. All of them, before you, were rather easy to dissuade. You... I didn't dissuade you, and now I'm worried that I should have..."

"Bullshit," Gene repeated, "this isn't just about me, is it? Yes, I love you, Holly, but I know the truth you just can't fucking say." He met her eyes. "You fucking love me too. You're mad at yourself for falling in love with me. So this isn't just about how I feel or what Tamara might think... this is about you trying to save yourself from heartbreak. At least be fucking honest with me."

Holly's lips turned down only a fraction, but it was enough for Gene to know he'd perfectly hit the mark.

- - -

"Do you really think he's not mad?" Finch asked quietly as he sat with his sister in a large cafeteria where a handful of Bridgewater's men and women were spread out eating cold cereal and toast, sipping coffee, little conversation to be heard.

"I don't know, Finch," Lauren told him, "he said he wasn't mad..."

"I can't believe he caught us... I'm so scared of him telling Mom..."

"Nothing we can do now," she replied, "I... I don't care if they are mad... We just have to be careful, okay? Not get caught again..."

Finch smiled, "I like the sound of that..."

"Easy, stud," she chided him after a mouthful of toast and lemon preserves, "right now I'm mostly just worried that he's gone and Mom's in trouble and I don't know what we're supposed to do but just sit here and worry..."

Finch looked down at the crumbs on his plate, picking up the biggest one and popping it into his mouth. "Worry and be hungry, I suppose. These rations are pathetic..."

"They have to ration, Finch. No idea how many people are here who might need to stay in this bunker for days or weeks... It's better than nothing."

"Yeah, I know," he said, "just saying..."

"Where's Logan, anyway?"

Finch shrugged. "He was up before us, haven't seen him all morning."

- - -

"You have to be quiet, Logan!" Hannah hissed at him, "someone is going to hear us!"

They were inside the room shared by the twins and Logan could hear booted feet moving along the metal corridor. He held still, over top of Hannah, his penis hard and inside her pussy, Georges stroking his own bigger one right next to Hannah's head.

"Sorry," Logan whispered, "I forget sometimes..."

"Well, no more forgetting! Finch and Lauren already got caught... My dad can't find out about me and my brother... He just can't!"

"We could stop," Georges suggested, his hand stopped mid-stroke, "not take the chance..."

Hannah chuckled, "Yeah, like that's going to happen." She wet her fingers, then reached back and took hold of her brother's cock, stroking it as Georges reclined. "Keep going, Logan, I was getting really close. Just be quiet!"

Logan grinned and pushed forward again, the heat of Hannah's slick pussy burning along his shaft. She really liked it when he ground against her, so he pushed in fully and rotated his hips a bit, pressing down onto her furry mound. "That's it," she whispered, "ooohhh... keep doing that..."

The boy did as commanded, and Hannah began to shudder. She pulled her brother over her sideways and slid his cock between her lips. Logan grinned as she moaned lightly around Georges' penis, Logan's movements deliberate and growing more urgent.

Hannah jerked under him and he saw that Georges was pulsing his load between his sister's lips, cum overflowing and running down her chin. Logan felt her pussy tighten and then push against his penetration as she climaxed. He drove inward and back out, in again, her hairy cunny teasing him quickly to strain and thrust harder.

The tip of his penis burned for a few seconds and then Logan felt his seed pulsing out the tip. He came in quick, tight spurts inside Hannah just as Georges fell away, Hannah swallowing his incestuous cum.

Logan tried to stay quiet and mostly succeeded, shaking himself to squeeze out every drop of sperm, then he rolled off the girl and lay back against her, his head nestled on her shoulder.

"This feels real nice," Hannah told him as Georges cradled her head against his abdomen, "but we can't linger... We're going to be missed soon... Though... Damn... that was really nice, boys... Really nice..."

Logan grinned in agreement.

- - -

"Hold up just one minute," Hannigan said, gasping for breath. They'd been running in short sprints for several hours, stopping just long enough between each to keep from overheating. Tamara's legs were jelly, numb except where everything hurt. Her lungs were on fire and had been all morning.

Tamara leaned against a tree and barely kept herself upright. They'd gotten away from the airport in the buggy, which allowed them put some distance between them and their pursuers, moving south rapidly along the coastline. The buggy ran out of gas just outside of Sari-Solenzara and they decided to move away from the coast and into the rugged, rocky hills to the west.

Hannigan's plan was to get to Porto-Vecchio to try to find a way off the island. If by boat, they would go further south to Sardinia and try to find a place to go to ground. If they were fortunate enough to get access to air, Hannigan strongly suggested they head for M1's HQ in Israel.

There were several uncomfortable leaps of faith in the plan, but at least no one was currently shooting at them.

"How much further," Tamara panted, "my throat is killing me."

"Rough guess... ten... fifteen miles or so to Vecchio."

"Jesus Christ. We aren't making that without a long break..."

"I know."

Tamara managed to barely catch her breath before Hannigan said, "We should move on and try to find somewhere to lay low for a few hours, start again when we've had some rest."

"Lead on," she said, her jaw set with determination, "as long as you keep moving, my legs will somehow follow..."

He flashed her a brief grin, then turned and continued down the dry, gravel-strewn path that may have once been a riverbed. Tamara exhaled completely, then sucked in a lungful of air as her blistered feet exploded once more in pain and discomfort. She hoped they stopped soon. Hungry, thirsty, hurting, and exhausted: as much as she wanted to believe what she'd told Hannigan, Tamara really wasn't sure she could go much further without help.

- - -

The chopper idling in a small clearing on the backside of a slanted hill to the south and west of Bastia, Gene watched as Bridgewater looked over Holly's shoulder at something on her tablet. "They should be here momentarily," she said.

"I'm not loosing the bird until we know if we're close enough," said the man. "Why aren't they in contact?"

"No idea. All I know is that Marisa's ping was direct and contained the buzz-kill flag. She doesn't want to be pinged back."

Bridgewater grumbled, then turned to Gene and said, "We wait here. Holly, check on the perimeter."

The blonde stashed her tablet in a sack which was slung over her back, rifle shifted into a ready position before she jogged off towards one end of the clearing beyond which at least one of Bridgewater's men was keeping watch a half klick or so away. The other agent had earlier gone the opposite direction to do the same.

Bridgewater eyed Gene a minute. "You a gambling man, Gene?"

"In what sense?"

"Do you take chances with partial information? Gut instincts? Do you risk a lot for a chance to win big?"

Gene shrugged, "Depends, I suppose. If you mean money, like in Vegas, that's not me. But I'm guessing this has nothing to do with roulette and craps."

"Indeed not. I'm not much of a gambler, myself," Bridgewater told him, "I like facts, analysis, statistics, trends. I follow where the data lead me. Whether I'm playing cards or trying to track down a target, I'm not much on taking risks on guesses and hypotheses."

"And?"

"And right now, I'm about to go against my tendencies. We're almost certainly at a dead end. I don't expect Marisa to come in here with so much as a witness who saw your wife or O'Leary in the last few hours. We're running out of time. It's time to gamble."

Gene chewed his lip, "I'm guessing you still have something more than guesses to work with..."

Bridgewater nodded, "I knew O'Leary. Not well, and not recently, but I knew him. More importantly, I know how M1 trained him. If they've so far remained at large, I have a hunch where he might head."

"Doesn't really seem too hard to figure out, honestly," Gene replied.

"Oh? Do tell."

"Corsica may be a big place to search on foot, but it's not really that big. A guy like O'Leary, he's not likely to want to be cornered on this island. He's looking for a way out and he needs somewhere with options. No way he goes back to Bastia, and I expect those nasty hills we saw to the west on the way in might be a bit daunting to get across. Can't go north, can't go west, and unless he's already got a boat or plans to swim, there's no going east. My money would be on heading due south until he gets somewhere with more than one way to get off this island."

"Port-Vecchio."

"Come again?"

"Port-Vecchio is the obvious place. Small but decent port and many places to try to steal a boat. Plus, there's an airport a few kilometers southwest. He'd be cornering himself, possibly, but that's where he'll go if he has room to breath and time to think. That's what I'm gambling on."

"Could be wrong."

"That's why it's called gambling. He could go west across those hills, he might have doubled back. He might have already gotten off the island somehow. I just don't know. But we can't sit here exposed, and we are too small a team to canvas this place. We have to pick a place and roll the dice."

Gene nodded. "I'm in."

"Ah," Bridgewater said, looking past Gene, "There they are now."

Gene turned to see Marisa, Bendal, and two others running up from the north. Bendal doubled over catching his breath as soon as he was within a few feet. Marisa took a few deep ones before saying, "Victor's split his forces. One platoon caught us in the open. We led them west a ways and then headed straight here. We can't linger. They're maybe twenty, thirty minutes behind..."

"The other platoons?"

Marisa replied, "One went south hours ago, no idea since. The other... also no idea."

"And no further signs of our target?"

"None."

Bridgewater looked back at Gene, then thrust his hand up near Gene's face, cupped, and shook it a couple of times. "Blow on these for good luck," he said before miming the throwing of dice.

- - -

There had been no word of her father or mother since before dawn. Lauren knew it was uncertain when or if they might return quickly, but she'd hoped that by midday some information might have come back to the bunker. She had wandered most of the day with Georges and Hannah, exploring the underground compound and found it entirely claustrophobic. They weren't allowed so much as a peek outside, and with no windows, stale industrial air, and the odors heavy of metal and warm bodies, Lauren was going stir crazy just a few hours into her stay.

The bunker was impressive, despite her gnawing desperation to get aboveground. It was larger than she expected upon first arriving. The corridors were narrow and often slanted, but there were four or five large warehouse-like rooms holding machinery or seating or supplies, another larger one housing vehicles of many sorts, though Lauren saw no obvious way to get them out. A large cafeteria and kitchen were on the main floor along with industrial multi-stall bathrooms and showers, even a small library. The lower floors were where the dozens and dozens of bunk rooms could be found, more bathrooms and showers there, as well as large-capacity living spaces at the end of each hall. Three of the wings in the bunker were off-limits to her, and naturally, Lauren was curious about what was held within each.

She guessed there must be close to a hundred people in the compound, though it was awfully hard to be sure. Assuming some were sleeping or working in the closed-off sections, she knew that number might be higher still.

"How long do you think they'll keep us here?" Lauren asked as the walked back to the kitchen to find some lunch, "has your dad said anything to you?"

Georges shook his head, "He's been in meetings all day, so Mom said. He's told us nothing."

"I really hope it won't be long," Hannah added, "this place is simply dreadful."

"Really makes you miss the farm, right?" Lauren asked.

"Definitely," Hannah replied, "that's home, so... yeah... I really miss it..."

"Some good memories there," Georges said with a melancholic grin.

Lauren smiled, "For me as well..."

Hannah giggled, "I seem to recall being there for a few of them."

"Indeed," Lauren laughed, "this place just isn't the same... too easy to get caught..." Her smile faded briefly as she remembered the horror of trying to push her brother off her when her dad had walked in on them fucking.

"That sucks, yeah," Georges said, "but you said he wasn't mad."

"He wasn't, but..."

Hannah cut in, "He might be mad later. Yeah, that would suck, too."

"So," Georges said in a whisper, "now that you've at least seen him after so long... still think you want to fuck your dad?"

Lauren blushed. "Yeah..."

"He is quite a hottie," Hannah purred, "I'd do him."

"Jeez, Sis," Georges chuckled, "I'm right here, you know."

"Oh, don't worry," Hannah assured him, "You're a total hottie, too. I can think more than one guy is sexy."

Georges smacked her ass quickly and Hannah jumped, "We're gonna be seen if you do that here!"

"I made sure no one was watching. Anyway," the boy said, "I hope you get the chance, Lauren... I bet you'd like it if your dad put his dick in you..."

Lauren's cunt was swelling with excitement despite her worries. "I'm sure I will... I just doubt he would want to do anything... I mean.. He's my dad..."

"Didn't stop Mom from letting me fuck her," reminded Georges, "and believe me... she's totally hot to do it again if we get a chance."

"Well," Lauren replied, "I would love to watch sometime..." Her mind drifted to her father again, a confusing mix of concern and arousal flooding out every other thought. Did her dad notice that she'd been touching his groin during the ride up to Tirano? He certainly seemed to have noticed, and though Lauren had been incredibly turned on to have her hand in such a private spot in her father's lap, she'd nearly chickened out on trying to feel his cock through his pants. She swore he'd grown hard over those seconds, the outline of his erection becoming obvious quickly then.

She shook herself and said, "We have to get off this subject."

"Getting a little turned on?" Hannah grinned.

"More than a little."

The three shared a laugh and then finished a quick breakfast before heading off to figure out where Finch and Logan had gotten to.

- - -

"This will work for right now," Hannigan told Tamara as they ducked into an old storage building well-back from the house down the hill, "hasn't been used in some time it seems. Get some sleep, I'll take first watch."

"You're as tired as I am," Tamara protested weakly, "maybe we both should just sleep."

"And risk being caught without warning? No chance. I'm wired, anyway," he assured her, "I'll sleep later..."

"Fine," she replied, looking around the interior. "Not much in the way of a bed in here, but right now, I don't much care." Tamara pulled a jacket out of her bag and twisted it into a makeshift pillow as she crawled into a spot along one wall with only slightly less dust and debris on the floor. "Promise you'll wake me so that you can sleep, too."

"I will."

She closed her eyes, her mind weary but one last thought needing to be voiced. "Marcus?"

"Yeah?"

"I do love you, you know. I can't promise I know how this might work out, how my husband will deal with this, but... I do love you..."

"I know," Hannigan said, looking at her with an exhausted smile, "We'll figure it out... I love you, too, Tamara... Get some sleep."