Run - Chapter 44: Two Pops (Fmfb ped inc brother/sister anal creampie oral)

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Chapter 44: Two Pops

Porto-Vecchio was not a terribly large city. It isn't even really a city, Gene mused. A population of a few thousand in normal times, the seaside French village in southeast Corsica had little activity as Gene waited with Bridgewater in the treeline running along a lesser hill overlooking the south end of the town. They could see the main port, which also wasn't much of a port, more of a terminal for ferries connecting from Italy to the east. Nothing moved out on the water, though numerous boats were at anchor in the protected harbor, an area surrounded on three sides by land, the Tyrrhenian Sea four or five miles from the terminal. Even as the daylight began to fade, it was clear that the town was either largely deserted or under curfew. Whatever was going on, it wasn't all that unusual in the days since the world went crazy and Gene and his family started running for their lives.

Holly, Marisa, Bendal, and the two agents had gone scouting around Vecchio. It was delicate work, to be sure, and Gene knew that Victor's teams were likely already closing in. They certainly had seen the chopper lift off from where they'd been earlier that day, and Bridgewater had let on that he suspected that at least one of Victor's platoons was already in the town. So far, they hadn't spotted anything interesting, but Bridgewater continued to scan the village below them with binoculars.

The man pressed a finger to the slim earpiece he wore, clearly listening to something coming across the wire. Gene felt anxious but resolved. They were here with a purpose and though there was still a lot of uncertainty, it was a nice change to the usual plan which typically consisted of getting the hell out of wherever they happened to be.

"News," Bridgewater growled.

"Yes?"

"Utah's on Corsica. Seems he got in not long after we arrived. He's looking for your wife."

"And you know this how?" Gene asked.

"I have ways."

Gene scowled, "You don't much care to reveal your ways, do you?"

"Don't see the point. Regardless," Bridgewater said as he brought the binoculars back to his eyes, "it means we've got a new complication."

"I thought Utah was a known issue..."

"True, but there's something else." Bridgewater turned and looked at Gene with a serious expression, "Utah's been tracking Tamara too easily. Victor has been going at it with numbers, and he's got enough agents on his side to have eyes and ears in a lot of places. Utah's on his own, as far as we can tell. Him showing up here is not coincidence. He's found a way to follow your wife. It's not luck which has him close by so soon after she got here."

"What do you mean?"

"She's got a tracker of some sort."

"A tracker..."

"Like the ones M1 put in you early on. They get you through doors and such, but they also contain a send-and-receive radio. My bet is Utah is either using that to find Tamara, or he's managed to get one of his own into her or O'Leary. If it was M1's tracker, Victor wouldn't need to spread out and search everywhere. How Utah got his own implanted, I don't know. But it means he's going straight for her."

"So we follow him?"

"Yes."

"And can we track Utah the way he's tracking my wife?" Gene asked.

Bridgewater shook his head, "No. Utah's too crafty to be tracked so easily. But I have another idea. Actually, Holly's idea."

When the man didn't elaborate, Gene growled, "Well fucking share it already..."

"Utah's got a network of his own. I'm sure you recall how easily he got in and out of conversations and systems during your Whitehead days. He won't trust himself to have access to everything remotely while disconnected. He has to have a device checking in with his net. We find that signal and we find Utah."

"So how do we go about that?"

"Silver's on it back in Tirano. He should have a plan shortly. If anyone can find Utah's signal, it's Silver."

"Then we're just wasting time here until we hear from Silver," Gene said with less frustration than he felt.

"Not entirely. In fact," Bridgewater paused, once more placing his finger to his ear, "Marisa just spotted a squad of Victor's men. That's useful information."

"Where are they?" Gene said, scanning the town below and seeing nothing of interest in the growing darkness.

"Coming our way, maybe ten minutes out. By accident or design, they're honing in on us."

"Fuck," Gene muttered. It seemed they were back to the normal plan of getting the fuck away from wherever they were.

- - -

"I really don't care, Finch!" Lauren screamed at him.

The door to their room was closed but Finch worried that their argument was easily heard outside. "Keep it quiet, remember?" he hissed.

"Argh!" Lauren fumed, crossing her arms and turning away from him.

The day spent in the bunker had quickly grown frustrating and depressing. Despite having a bit of fun exploring the layout of the underground compound with his brother and Panthea that morning, there was little to do and too many concerns to relax. Their current argument had started when Lauren caught him and Logan fingering Panthea in the room the three sibling shared. She'd backed out quickly at the time, but returned soon after interrupting their play, Panthea having excused herself after growing concerned at the ease in which someone had just walked in on them.

"We were just fooling around. No one was going to catch us," Finch pleaded.

"I caught you!" Lauren replied, "Just like Dad caught us! We can't even lock the door. What if that had been Henderson? Or one of the nameless grunts in this place? Jesus, Finch, we talked about this very thing this morning!"

"I'm sorry, okay?"

Lauren stared at the grey wall and away from Finch a moment, then said, "Look, I know this is hard. It's hard for all of us, alright? We're worried sick about Mom and Dad, we hate this place already, and we're too damn horny for our own good, right? We just have to be really, really careful."

"I know," Finch replied, defeated, "I just wanted to have a little fun with her... Logan started it, anyway."

"Fuck, Finch!" Lauren hissed, "That excuse? Logan starts everything with you, always has. He's still a stupid kid, you should know better."

"Hey!" Logan shouted from the end of the bed, "I'm right here you nutter! I'm not a stupid kid!"

It was sometimes easy to forget his younger brother when Finch and Lauren were arguing. Usually, Logan did instigate things and then sat back with a grin and enjoyed the show. This time, the boy wore no grin and looked rather pissed off that Lauren had called him names.

"Sorry, Logan," Lauren said quieter, "I didn't mean you are stupid, you're just... twelve... Finch is old enough to know this is serious."

"I know," Logan said, crossing his arms and puffing up a bit, "and she wanted me to touch her like I did in the van. She started it."

"Enough," Lauren fumed, "enough, enough enough!" She whipped her body around and stood up. "We have to stick together, okay? Enough with the blame, with the wandering fingers, with all the stupid reasons why you aren't paying enough attention to avoid getting caught. It was me this time. It was Dad last night. We can't have a third time, alright? Promise me!"

Finch shrugged, "I suppose..."

"Finch..."

"Fine. I promise I'll be more careful."

"Logan?"

The younger boy drew back his lips before muttering, "I promise."

Lauren stared at them in turn, then her face softened. "Look... I know this is hard, alright? Believe me, I know. And... I really wish we could all just get naked and do it until this place felt more friendly, okay? But we can't risk that right now. If we find somewhere... somewhere we might not risk being caught... we'll play some more. But right now..."

"Right now we have to behave," Logan said quietly.

"Exactly," Lauren replied, "and I'll talk to Panthea. She surely should know better..."

- - -

"Marcus..." Tamara stretched as she called to him from near the cracked-open door of the storage shed, "We should get moving, right?"

Hannigan stirred slowly, then sat upright, "Yeah." He yawned and shook himself. "We have to find food and water soon."

Tamara's stomach growled angrily and her tongue felt parched and thick. Her muscles wanted to cramp up with each small movement. They'd managed to drink a couple of times that day from streams, but they had no canteens or other containers, so the past few hours, while one of them slept, had been dry and uncomfortable. "That would be nice."

"Anything moving?"

"Not that I've heard."

Hannigan stretched and stood up, grabbing his bag. Tamara already had hers over a shoulder. He said, "Vecchio is due south. The airport closest is southeast a bit further. I'm inclined to get to Vecchio and take its temperature. The airport... That might be tricky to try to get out that way. I'm no pilot, and I'm assuming you haven't picked that up while I slept?"

"Hardly," Tamara chuckled.

"Boat is our best options. If we can get on a big one, we might get back to Italy, or perhaps mainland France. Otherwise, Sardinia offers us a chance to disappear for a while, I think."

"Then let's get moving," said Tamara, "my tongue feels like it is made of sawdust and chalk."

- - -

"I'm sorry, Lauren. And you're right," Panthea told her quietly as they sat on a low couch in the sitting room down the hall from the small, private bunk room Panthea had to herself. "It won't happen again."

"Thank you," Lauren replied. "I hate this place. I get it. I'm so darn horny I could really use some more fun myself, but... after Dad caught me and Finch, it's just too risky..."

"We might try my room..."

Lauren shook her head, "I don't think that helps..."

"No one's going to walk in on me, plus," Panthea chuckled, "I can lock my door."

"Huh?"

"Just one of the tricks I've picked up over the years. Just have to have the right tools and a little understanding of how a knob works."

Lauren chuckled, "I'm sure you know just how a knob works."

Panthea grinned, "You know what I mean. I'm just saying that... perhaps we don't have to go all celibate here... My room is available for the asking."

Lauren thought about that a moment, then replied, "Maybe..."

"You and I could test it out right now, you know. I never did get a chance to cum earlier..."

Lauren stirred, her clit rising from memories of her moments spent with the woman in past weeks. "I... I should get my brothers... Only fair..."

Panthea smiled, her eyes narrowing, "I'll go take a shower and freshen up. I suggest you three do the same. Maybe we'll rendezvous in an hour?"

"Okay. That sounds... fun. I could use the distraction..."

- - -

"Silver's got a trace," Bridgewater said as Gene, Holly, Marisa, Bendal, and the two agents, Tinch and Lazlo, gathered around him near the helicopter idling with the pilot already inside. "We're moving." They'd managed to avoid Victor's patrolling squad by repositioning the helicopter to the west and north a few miles, knowing they clearly given themselves away if any of them suspected who was in the chopper. Bridgewater had been in contact with Silver and, finally, they seemed to have caught a break.

"Where is he?" Holly asked as they boarded with urgency.

"North of here a few miles, in a place called Conca."

Gene slid into his seat, Holly beside him, Bridgewater climbing into the cockpit beside the pilot. Within seconds they were in the air and charging to the north.

"This isn't good, right? That Utah is here?"

Holly shouted over the whoosh of the chopper, "When was it ever good that Charles Utah showed up anywhere?"

"Good point."

"He has to have figured out Tamara's role. Why else would he be chasing her and not you?"

"Dunno. Utah always was a step ahead of everyone. Why did it take him so long if he's been tracking her?"

"We don't know when he got the tracker in place," Holly replied, "could have been recent. Could be someone else following her that he's honing in on. We don't know anything yet."

"So Silver traced him to Conca?"

"Yeah. I owe Silver about a dozen blow jobs at this point. I rather hope he loosens up and wants to collect them."

"Can it, Holly," Gene said, "If Utah's in Conca, then Tamara must be close by. That's what we're going with. All I want right now is to get to her before he does."

- - -

"Just stay still!" Hannigan hissed from her left.

Tamara's heart was racing. They were still some distance from Porto-Vecchio, several miles north of the town, hunched down behind an old rusted-out dumpster behind what seemed to be an active warehouse of some kind. They'd lucked out and found a cardboard box full of half-rotten carrots and potatoes, more then enough of the former still edible to fill their stomachs and pack more away in their bags. Her belly ached a little, but that inconvenience was immediately forgotten when Hannigan had spotted at least a dozen men moving quickly down the road above the warehouse, flashlights out, each one armed with weapons drawn.

"That can't see us if we just wait it out," Hannigan assured her.

The dozen men passed by but were almost immediately followed by another dozen, similarly equipped.

"Fuck!" Hannigan cursed quietly, "They have flankers out, coming right for us. We gotta move."

He pointed to schoolyard in whatever French island town they were currently on the edge of, then raced ahead, keeping low. Tamara followed on his heels.

The school was locked tight so they crept around the side. While Tamara's muscles twitched and seized, more cramps trying to blossom in her sore legs, Hannigan glanced carefully around the edge of the building.

Tamara saw the two flankers turning flashlights back and forth across the front of the school yard. She wondered briefly why they were so openly scouting, so clearly looking for them in a way which allowed Tamara and Hannigan to simply avoid where they were searching. Maybe they were just arrogant, she thought, or maybe they were already convinced this was a goose chase and just going through the motions.

"Okay," Hannigan said after several minutes of silence, "They're past."

"What now?" she whispered.

"We can't go south directly right now. There's probably a platoon worth now between us and Vecchio. We might be able to move back to the coast and then go south again, but I hate having one flank blocked should we need to detour."

A deep, strangely familiar male voice called from behind Tamara. "That won't be necessary."

She wheeled around as Hannigan did the same. The man was indeed familiar.

"Chaster Haul?"

Haul smiled evenly and nodded once. He'd let his dark-auburn hair grow out raggedly since she'd last seen him, the look a rather unsettling feature in a frightening moment. Tamara didn't miss the black pistol in his hand. "Come along now. We shouldn't tarry."

"You!" Hannigan growled.

"Me," Haul replied, "and if you don't get moving, this might not end the way you want it to."

"Whose side are you on, Haul? Ours?"

"There are no sides anymore. You should know that, Greene... or is it Hannigan these days... maybe Littleton? I can't remember which you prefer any more. Regardless, I offered you help once before. Things have changed... Accepting my help is no longer voluntary." He looked at Hannigan flatly. "And while I thank you for keeping the lock safe until I could arrive, your assistance is no longer required."

Two deafening pops caused Tamara to flinch and jump back. To her right, she saw Hannigan collapse, clutching his chest while sucking in his breath. She screamed, "No!"

Her head swam in confusion. Haul mumbled something and Tamara had a brief sensation of lightness before everything went black.

- - -

"That's it, Logan," Panthea breathed, "now put another one in..."

Logan had two fingers inside the woman's pussy already, and she wanted another? He grinned and pushed his right ring finger in with the other two and felt her stretch around him. Panthea's legs were spread wide, one resting on Lauren's thigh, his sister and brother fucking right next to them. He could hear Lauren panting as Finch slid his cock in and out of her cunt.

Logan began to move his hand again, his fingers becoming slippery with the woman's juices. She swept a hand down to her hard nub and started to twirl it. "Now put that little one up my butt."

Logan's little dick was pounding with each heartbeat. His pinkie was already wet and touching the woman's wrinkled hole, so he pushed against it and felt it widen quickly. "Ohh.. that's neat..." he laughed.

"Mmm..." Panthea said, writhing, "finger me, Logan... That's it... Faster... Faster..."

His hand was pumping steadily in and out of her holes and he felt her straining, her thighs turning upwards as she pushed her ass off the bed. The hold on his fingers grew tighter, especially her little butthole. She squirmed, almost silent, then he felt her let go, creamy discharges soon sliding down his fingers as Panthea climaxed.

- - -

Finch couldn't believe his sister had suggested they join Panthea in her room, but he wasn't about to turn down the offer. He hadn't even fucked the woman yet, but already he was fascinated by the woman's nipples and the way she grunted as she came on Logan's fingers.

He looked back at his sister and smiled. She looked so happy under him with his cock inside her. She was bringing her hips up each time he slid back into her pussy, Lauren's tight cunt willing him to unload. He thought she might be getting close to an orgasm, but with Panthea cumming right next to him, and Lauren's wonderful vagina offering a perfect receptacle for his ejaculation, Finch couldn't hold back much longer.

- - -

Lauren tensed under her brother. She felt Panthea cumming beside her and tried to stay quiet as her own was rising. She looked up at Finch and saw he was also getting close. Lauren stretched her neck up to kiss him, and he moaned into her mouth. Her brother's urgent thrusts and then his stiffness told Lauren he was cumming inside her pussy. His cock strained and swelled, stretching her.

She wasn't quite there, enjoying the way her brother's body jerked randomly as he emptied his seed into her pussy. Lauren kissed him again and then he rolled off. She'd just closed her eyes when she felt the bed shifting, Panthea between her legs within seconds. The woman ate the sperm leaking from Lauren's pussy, then twirled her tongue around the teen's clit like a professional.

Lauren's orgasm forced her eyes shut again, her mouth open, her breathing quick and voiceless. Her hands ran through Panthea's hair as the woman licked her through her climax.

- - -

Logan was so horny he was nearly spewing cum from just watching Panthea making his sister cum. The way the woman was bent over the edge of the bed gave Logan a perfect angle to approach her from behind. Cock in hand, he pressed up against her and felt his penis slide into the woman's wet cunt.

Panthea lightly moaned into Lauren's pussy as Logan fucked her. It wouldn't take long, he was sure, to unload. He became urgent, slamming himself against the woman. Logan's hard, leaking cock slipped out, and he frantically pushed it back inside. She was so wet he slipped out again, and he grabbed his little shaft and thrust back towards Panthea's pussy.

Clenching heat closed over his dick and Panthea grunted. She felt much tighter than just a second earlier. How can that be? The thought didn't linger as Logan picked up speed and slammed himself into the woman. He felt himself burning, the intoxicating, addicting sensation of orgasm rushing through him as he emptied his balls inside Panthea.

Logan fell back with his dick still spurting, two big ropes of cum splashing onto the woman's right buttock. More dribbled out the tip of Logan's penis and forming small puddles on the floor. He looked at her crotch.

Panthea's butthole was wet and red and leaking cum. I was in her butt! Logan grinned as he watched the woman's hole twitch, each time pushing out a small glob of slippery jism to fall to the floor.

"Nice aim, Logan," she said from over her shoulder.

"Sorry," Logan replied, "I didn't know."

"I wasn't complaining," Panthea purred, turning from between Lauren's legs to look at him, "I like it up the butt."

He grinned again, his eyes fixed on the way the woman's tight red little hole slowly grew smaller and smaller, glistening and coated with Logan's cum.

- - -

"Where is he, Silver?" Bridgewater shouted into the radio over the loud whoosh of the idling chopper. Gene was leaning forward with Holly just behind the man's seat. They'd arrived in Conca minutes earlier, but so far they had seen no trace of Utah or his wife. Bridgewater fumed, "I don't give two shits if he finds out, Adam. Just spike it!"

There was no response from Bridgewater then he exclaimed. "Fuck!" The man turned slightly back towards Gene and Holly, "Utah's slipped the signal. Switched encryption, most likely. Fuck!"

Gene leaned back in his seat and slumped down. Holly put her arm around him and kissed his cheek. "Just a temporary setback, Gene. We're close."

"So close and yet its still going to take a fucking miracle to find her."

Bendal came racing up from the east where he'd pushed out to protect the chopper's flank. "Chief!" he yelled through the cracked cockpit door. "Gunshots!"

"Where?" Bridgewater demanded, already scanning the area to the east.

"Maybe a half-klick northeast. Two shots, small caliber. No doubts."

"Call in the posts. Protocol Zed. Get this chopper out of sight as soon as we're clear," the man shouted as he leapt from the chopper, the last order directed at the pilot.

Gene followed Holly out the door and huddled to await the rest of the team. The helicopter was airborne and sliding west as soon as they were on the ground. Marisa, Tinch, and Lazlo arrived within seconds of each other from their positions away from the landing site. "Protocol Zed," Bridgewater repeated. "Holly, you've got HVP2. The rest of us are going for Utah and One."

Holly held Gene's arm as Bridgewater and the rest of the team sprinted away to the northeast. "What the fuck is going on?" Gene whispered as she led him into the scrub in the darkness.

"Zed means we're going in hot and without the usual diligence. Shoot first and all that."

"HVP2? That me?"

"Yeah."

"So... Tamara's One?"

"She is."

"I'm not waiting here, Holly."

"That's the orders. Can't risk you going into this, no idea who or what is down there."

Gene growled, yanking his arm away, "Fuck that. My wife's down there, or at least someone who knows where she is. I'm not hanging back this time. No way."

"Gene—"

"Come with me or stay behind," Gene called as he started to hustle down the hill through the vines and undergrowth, "your choice."

The rapid footsteps behind him confirmed that Holly had given in. Once in a million years that does happen, he thought. Gene pulled his compact automatic rifle up in front of him and raced through the trees to catch up to Bridgewater and find his wife.

Holly slowed him down on the outskirts of the village. Gene figured that if Bendal's estimate was right, they must be close to where the shots were fired. They peered around the edge of one house, then crept to the second.

Gene heard gasping and low voices. Anonymous eyes were peeking out of windows through shades and blinds. People here are too scared to go outside and find out what's going on, he thought, suppose that's the new normal everywhere. Holly motioned him down a footpath through two narrowly-separated houses which backed up to a brick school house.

Marisa and Tinch were running fast towards a crumpled figure on the ground beside the school wall, the others close behind. The two bent down quickly over the person who was clenching and groaning loudly. Gene raced up seconds later.

The man had red hair, rough, sun-darkened skin which looked burnt. He was trying to push Marisa's hands from his stomach. It wasn't Utah, that was for sure. Gene saw the pooled blood on one side, the shirt pulled up to see more blood puddling on the man's chest. "Where's Tamara? Where's my wife?'" Gene demanded, ignoring the man's current condition.

The man's gaze was unfocused but it paused long enough to look at Gene. He sputtered, trying to talk, then said. "Chaster Haul... Haul took her..."

"Where?" Bridgewater hissed.

"To the coast, no more than ten minute ago..." the man managed after a second of groaning through Marisa's attempts to stem the flow of blood. "I heard a... Arrrrrgg...," he panted, "… a vehicle... after he shot me... I think it went... Arrrrrrggg... east..."

Bridgewater spun and drew everyone but Marisa and Tinch to him. "I've got the chopper on route. ETA three minutes. Holly, Lazlo, find a vehicle. We need air and land right now. Hurry!" The two dashed off quickly. He turned and said, "Gene, you're with me."

Gene's pulse raced. He was only ten minutes behind his wife. "Who the fuck is Chaster Haul?"

Bridgewater looked at him more calmly than the situation deserved, "Come on, Gene. This isn't even a very clever one."

"Huh?"

"Charles Utah... Chaster Haul... Utah's just fucking with us with that anagram."

Gene groaned. "Goddamnit. Utah used to impress people by getting someone to give him a name or a phrase and then he could find all the anagrams in short order. Fucking hell."

Bridgewater nodded in understanding.

"So Utah was here..." Gene said.

"Seems so," Bridgewater's eyes went to the sky just as a small black sedan screamed up the drive. "Chopper's here. Let's go, Gene."

"What about him?" Gene asked, nodding towards Hannigan.

Bridgewater never hesitated. "He's dead already. He just doesn't know it yet."

Gene ran forward with the man, turning back to see Marisa and Titch following behind, the red-haired man left to die, alone. Gene wondered if that was cruelty or mercy, but had bigger things to worry about as he jumped into the chopper and strapped into a seat.