Tuesday, February 14th, 2017
The Ritz-Carlton Hotel
San Francisco
08:00
Mindy had arranged extra rooms for the extra visitors from Chicago as well as for Thomas and the two girls.
Room service brought food to Dave and Mindy's suite where everyone ate heartily. Neither Dave nor Mindy had even the slightest idea of where to start looking for a girl in a city which they knew very little about and in which they had no base.
"So," Mindy mused as she sipped at her coffee.
"I got nothing," Dave responded as he bit into a sausage.
"Marty'll find something," Stephanie mumbled as she stuffed bacon into her mouth.
"Don't talk with your mouth full," Abigail said with her mouth just as full of bacon.
"Imbeciles!" Saoirse commented as she sipped at a cup of tea.
Beside Stephanie, Maxine was the happiest that she had been in a very long time.
"So, Abigail, where do you place in all of this?" Maxine asked.
"In an exercise, I tried to kill Stephanie..."
"Understandable," Maxine interrupted.
"Unfortunately, I failed miserably, and she gave me the strap," Abigail continued. "Now, we're besties."
"Sometimes, I wonder why I put up with her," Stephanie grimaced. "She really pisses me off."
"Has she stopped doing stupid things," Maxine asked Abigail.
"Not a bloody chance!" Saoirse responded for Abigail. "She cannot stay out of trouble for more than a minute at a time. However, she's also my friend . . . ewww; that tastes so bad in my mouth."
Mindy laughed at that.
..._...
Just as they were finishing off breakfast, Marty called.
"Hi, Marty," Dave said.
"Morning, pal, I have news," Marty replied.
"Good, I hope."
"I think so – actually, young Becky found it just before she fell asleep about an hour ago."
"Oh, yes?"
"Becky dug into Michado James and she went through his credit card and bank statements. She found that he had rented several vehicles and also a property on Hannah Street in Emeryville."
"Send us the details and we'll go take a look," Dave said. "And thank Becky for us."
"Will do, pal – stay safe."
As Dave dropped the call, Mindy looked over expectantly.
"You ready to make a house call?" Dave challenged.
"You got an address?" Mindy responded.
"I have an address," Dave replied as his cell beeped.
"Let's go take a look," Mindy grinned.
"We all going?" Deborah asked.
"I would rather you guys stay here," Mindy replied. "It's broad daylight and the FBI many already know about the place. Besides, if we all vanished and the FBI turned up, it will look very bad."
Drew nodded.
"You'll let us know what you find?" Drew asked.
"Yes, we will. If Mae is there, we'll let you know," Dave promised.
"Stephanie, let's go."
Stephanie shrugged as she headed out the door with Mindy.
..._...
A good few minutes later, they were on the I-80 crossing the bay onto Yerba Buena Island.
It was a first for Dave, Mindy, and Stephanie. None of them had really been to San Francisco before and it was an amazing sight as they crossed to the island, then passed through the amazing double-height tunnel before finding themselves on the newly built eastern span which took them over to Emeryville. Dave then expertly took them onto the 580 before they left at San Pablo Avenue.
"Okay," Mindy said. "This needs to be a swift in and out with minimal noise."
"You'd better stay in the car then," Stephanie quipped.
"Sometimes, I really hate you," Mindy growled.
On 34th Street, they cruised straight past Hannah Street before stopping a short way down the street.
"All looked clear," Stephanie advised.
Dave pulled around the block before pulling over at the junction of 32nd and Hannah.
"We won't be long," Mindy assured Dave as she checked the suppressed FN Five-seveN pistol she carried.
Stephanie was doing the same.
"I'll be ready for when things go the way they normally do," Dave grinned as he pulled the charging lever for the suppressed Heckler & Koch MP7A1 laid in his lap.
Dave ignored the dual glares as the two girls jumped out of the Range Rover and casually strolled the ninety-six yards along Hannah Street. The street was agreeably empty of people which suited Mindy perfectly considering they were operating in broad daylight. As a precaution, they were using Marty's camera scrambling gadget . . . and both of them wore baseball caps as a fallback. They paused as the dilapidated number 3248 came into view to their right. Stephanie gazed up at the property which looked in dire need of a wrecker's ball. The wood clap boarding was probably a hundred years old. Stephanie figured that a single well-placed bullet could probably bring the whole thing crashing down. The property was on two levels with the lower level more of a raised basement. The even-dozen steps led up to the front porch which was about six feet off the ground.
"I'll take the rear," Stephanie said as she ran forward and vaulted the wooden side gate which looked in slightly better condition than the house it was attached to.
Mindy took the wooden steps up to the front door, four at a time. Beyond the wooden door, Mindy could hear voices – male voices; two of them, and they were arguing.
"You ready?" Mindy hissed over the comms as she drew her pistol.
"Stupid bloody question!" came the annoyed response.
Mindy grinned as she turned her back to the door, and she kicked in the lock.
3248 Hannah Street
San Francisco
Mae Drew was seventeen years old, fairly tall, and she had long ginger brown hair which currently hung loosely around her shoulders.
Her grey-blue eyes peered out at two of the thugs who had kidnapped her and her two sisters – at least she saw them as her sisters; they were as good as family as she was concerned. Yes, she was scared – who wouldn't be? Actually, now she thought about it, Deb and Max would probably show little to no emotion, she figured. Mae had no envy for their upbringing, but she wished that she could control her emotions as well. They could both be colder than a glacier when they needed to be while she just got hot and flustered. However, a part of her knew that somehow, Max and Deb would come for her, as would her Uncle Thomas.
The two men were arguing about everything – as far as Mae could make out, something had gone very badly wrong. Then Mae screamed as the front door suddenly flew open in a shower of broken woodwork. A person stepped into the living room; a pistol raised in her hands. Twice the pistol made a dull crack and Mae was astounded to see small red dots appear in the foreheads of both men, neither of whom had noticed the front door exploding inwards in time to draw a weapon. Mae's attention was then drawn to sight of the two men sinking to the floor leaving an amazing pattern on the wall behind them. The pattern appeared to be moving slowly down the wall. Then another one of the thugs bolted out of the kitchen and he took one look at the armed woman and his two dead colleagues before he bolted down the passageway which led to the bedrooms and the back door to the property. Surprisingly, the woman did not follow, instead, she stepped backwards away from the passageway. With a yell, the thug reappeared, just as Mae heard three more dull cracks and the man's head exploded in an amazing fashion before he crashed to the floor of the living room very dead. A young girl appeared form the passageway, a pistol held in her hands.
"Hello, I'm Stephanie," the girl said. "Are you Mae?"
"I fucking well hope so, or we've just raided the wrong fucking house!" the woman growled.
"Yes, I'm Mae...," Mae said before her mind began to work again. "Are you by any chance Stephanie Walker?"
The girl grinned and nodded.
"Max talks about you all the time – did she send you?"
"Yes, she did," Stephanie replied.
"Enough of the yucky shit," Mindy growled. "Let's move!"
As the three of them bolted down the wooden stairs, Dave pulled up outside and Stephanie pushed Mae into the backseat while Mindy jumped into the front, even as Dave stomped on the gas pedal.
The Ritz-Carlton Hotel
San Francisco
12:40
Mindy grinned at the sight of the three girls hugging each other and being hugged by Thomas Drew.
Reuniting a family was always something special as far as Mindy was concerned. It made her feel warm and fuzzy inside – not that she would ever admit it – to anyone!
"Well done, girls!" Paige grinned. "Proud of you both."
Stephanie was grinning broadly, and Mindy eventually gave in and she decided to enjoy the praise. Then things swiftly changed as Maxine stepped over to Stephanie.
"We need to go, Steph," Maxine said, her face full of sadness.
"What?" Stephanie replied, her tone one of incredulity. "But, I've just..."
"We have some things to sort out, but I promise I'll come to Chicago as soon as I can."
Maxine was crying and Stephanie started doing the same.
"I know that you're safe – you have Abigail and Saoirse," Maxine continued as she hugged her friend.
Stephanie was openly sobbing as Maxine pulled away. Maxine stood beside Mae and waved.
"Thank you, all," Mae said.
"Thank you," Thomas added. "Once we're sorted, we'll find you all."
"You do that," Mindy said, unhappy and unnerved at seeing Stephanie in such distress. "You need anything..."
Mindy handed over one of her 'Lizewski Enterprises' business cards which Thomas took.
"Thank you for everything," he said as they all filed out the door.
Then they were gone as the door closed behind them.
The next morning...
Wednesday, February 15th
Chicago Executive Airport
Willow had never felt happier.
She was also a little worried that she might explode with excitement as just sitting in the cockpit was causing her to feel some amazingly pleasant sensations between her legs. The cockpit of the Hawker Hunter T.7 was a little cramped as she pulled on the flight helmet. Arya had helped her strap into the ejector seat – Willow's very first ejector seat – before she had pointed out the connections for her helmet communications and oxygen mask. Her eyes flicked around the cockpit, taking in the antiquated instrumentation. Ahead of her, surrounded with a thick white border, seven circular analogue gauges provided the airspeed, Mach number, artificial horizon, angle of attack, altitude, compass, and course heading. Other dials informed her how much oxygen was left aboard amongst several dials which meant nothing to her, she recognised the flaps lever, and a switch to jettison external fuel tanks. Over on the far side of the cockpit, she could see controls to dump weapons as well as the RPM gauge for the single Rolls-Royce Avon turbojet engine. Mounted on a beam in the centre of the cockpit, a single throttle stuck up. Between her legs, a centre stick control column sat ready. She noticed the twin SAFE switches atop the control column which would trigger the cannon - no longer fitted – or the wing-mounted stores – not carried.
Beside her, Reg had finished strapping himself in and he was busy pre-flighting the aircraft. Arya reached in and she helped Willow to fit her oxygen mask into place. Arya then reached down and checked each belt to ensure it was tight and that Willow was securely attached to the Martin Baker Type 4H/AN ejector seat. Willow scowled as a pair of hands violated her crotch as the harness was checked along with the leg restraints. The bitch was actually grinning, Willow noticed as Arya finished checking out Willow's crotch. Two minutes later, Reg began the start-up sequence and he hit the electronic start button on the throttle and the Rolls-Royce Avon turbojet began to spin up.
"Engine temps are good," Reg commented as he tapped a gauge. "Okay – power controls on."
Reg moved the control column around in several circular motions. Then he pointed to the flaps lever.
"Set flaps for take-off . . . four notches."
Willow moved the flaps lever downwards, four notches.
"Flaps set for take-off – four notches," she replied over the intercom.
"Acknowledged," Reg responded. "Checking the air brake."
Arya was standing ahead of the aircraft, her headset connected to the aircraft via a very long cable. She raised a thumb in to indicate that the air brake had deployed successfully.
"Next we need to check the all-moving tailplane."
Reg pulled the control column fully aft and held it there, before moving it fully forward and holding it for a few moments before he then released it.
"All good. Let's set the compass... Okay, fuel pump checks are clear, let's close the canopy."
Above her head, the canopy lowered and locked into place – she was now committed to flight in a fast jet for the very first time in her life. Slowly, they rolled forwards as Reg applied power to the engine before he stomped on the wheel brakes for the tricycle landing gear.
"Wheel brakes, good."
With a final thumbs up from Arya, the girl swiftly ran forward to disconnect her communications cable and then ran off to one side, waving as she did so.
"You ready to fly, Willow?" Reg asked.
"Yes, sir!"
..._...
Willow could only grin as the jet rumbled over the tarmac and concrete towards the active runway.
Reg manoeuvred them into position at the hold line and he advanced the throttle while he held the brakes on with his toes.
"Fifty-five per cent power . . . ninety per cent power . . . brakes are holding."
Reg lowered his transparent visor and his tinted visor into place, locking them into position. Willow followed suit as they prepared for take-off.
"Okay," Reg commented over the intercom as he pushed the throttle all the way forward. "One hundred per cent power and we're off!"
Willow felt the kick in her backside as the aircraft accelerated hard down the runway. The airspeed indicator increased rapidly and at 120-knots, the nose was lifted nine-degrees and the nose wheel left the runway. At 135-knots, the main gear left the ground and the fighter jet was airborne.
"Okay, brakes on, gear up," Reg said. "Flaps up."
"Flaps up!" Willow intoned as she moved the flaps lever upwards four notches. "Flaps are up."
The altimeter showed them passing through five hundred feet and climbing steadily. Then there was a hissing sound as the pressurisation system was enabled and the cockpit was pressurised. After five minutes, they were cruising along at 500-knots and at 10,000 feet, heading east out over Lake Michigan.
"Okay, Willow, you remember what I went through, earlier? Be gentle – she's extremely responsive. Ready?"
"Co-pilot . . . ready," Willow responded as very gingerly, she wrapped her gloved hand around the control column.
"Co-pilot's airplane."
"Co-pilot's airplane," Willow repeated as she found herself at the controls of an old, but very real, fighter jet.
Willow actually giggled which appalled her, but she was entirely focussed as her eyes darted from inside the cockpit to outside, looking up through the canopy, and to either side, before looking ahead, and then back into the cockpit, restarting the cycle. Gently, she eased the stick to the left and the aircraft rolled to port. With a gentle nudge to the right, the aircraft returned to a wings-level attitude. Then came a gentle roll to the right and then back to wings-level. After taking a deep breath, Willow nudged the left rudder pedal and the Hunter yawed to part. Next came the reverse, with the Hunter yawing to starboard. A brief nudge of the control column and the Hunter's nose dropped, and the aircraft descended, dropping a hundred feet. Reversing the control column movement brought the aircraft upwards and back to 10,000 feet.
"Okay," Reg directed. "Advance the throttle and pull back on the stick until you have a thirty-degree up angle."
Willow did so, instantly feeling the kick from the Avon turbojet as over 7,000-Ibs of thrust pushed the jet skyward. Willow felt sensations deep in her body as she pulled the fighter jet unto a thirty-degree climb. They climbed at over 3,000-feet per minute and were soon passing 20,000-feet.
"This is so amazing!" she muttered, and she heard Reg chuckle.
They finally levelled off at 38,000-feet, flying at 600-knots. Willow was amazed to see the Mach meter indicating 0.9 the speed of sound – it was the fastest she had ever flown while piloting an aircraft. She had never felt so free as she eased the aircraft into a roll, coming out inverted, from where she could gaze upward at the lake, 38,000-feet below them. She continued the roll, following guidance from Reg, and performed a near-perfect barrel roll. After a few more manoeuvres, Reg took control.
The next fifteen minutes taxed Willow's stomach as Reg threw the ancient jet around the sky. One second Willow could see the horizon, but then she saw sky, water, sky, horizon, sky, water, sky, water, horizon. Her body was alternating between being forced into the ejector seat and being forced out of the ejector seat. Willow was glad of the oxygen which she was sucking down like she was in labour – not that she knew what that was really like – as it kept her lucid and conscious. She found herself laughing and giggling as her body was crushed and then endured momentary weightlessness during the negative G manoeuvres.
Then, all of a sudden, it was time to end the fun.
..._...
Willow concentrated as they turned back to the airport and Reg went through the procedure for landing.
As they approached the airport, they joined the other aircraft queuing up to land. Eventually, they received permission to land and they turned onto the glide path, the airport coming into view, downwind. The speed was reduced to 300-knots and the flaps lowered. At 250-knots, the tricycle landing gear was lowered into position. However, only two of the three lights went from red to green to indicate that the wheels were down and locked.
"Come on, you little bastard!" Reg growled as he cycled the landing gear and received three green lights. "Perfect, no belly landing today!"
A few minutes later, they were closing the runway at 180-knots.
"Give me full flaps, Willow."
"Full flaps – set."
"We need to maintain 145-knots for touchdown..."
There was a double thump as the main gear struck the tarmac, then, as the nose came down, the nose gear struck the runway.
"...then we deploy the brake chute."
The aircraft rapidly slowed as the wheel brakes and the brake chute took hold. Reg followed taxiing instructions and he taxied the Hunter off the runway and towards the hanger. Before long, they slowed to a halt and Reg triggered the canopy which rose above them. Then the engine was shut down and Arya appeared to hang ladders on both sides of the aircraft. Willow was all smiles when she removed her face mask and then her helmet. Her hair was matted with sweat as was most of her body.
"Thank you, Reg – that was fucking awesome!"
"You did very well, Willow, anytime."
Willow was so excited that after thanking Reg again and then Arya, she jumped into her Ford Focus and sped off home, desperate to tell somebody.
A short while later...
North Lakewood Avenue
Willow raced up to her apartment where she found that her sister had just returned from school – Willow had been allowed the day off.
"Willow!" Kendra exclaimed as she ran at her big sister, hugging her tightly.
Kendra then sprang back her nose wrinkled.
"You stink!" Kendra declared.
"Sorry," Willow responded as she pulled off the flight suit. "It was a very sweaty flight."
"You look like you enjoyed it," Kendra said as Willow continued stripping off before making for her shower.
"It was amazing; almost better than sex with Joel . . . don't tell him I said that."
"I thought you said that you two weren't fucking?" Kendra queried.
"Who I fuck is nothing to do with you, young lady," Willow pointed out as she washed.
"Touchy!"
Willow finished off her shower and then redressed before dropping onto the couch next to her little sister.
..._...
About an hour later, there was a knock on the door.
Willow expected it to be Rachel, Billy, or Joel, but she was very wrong. Kendra bolted for the door, hoping it was Billy, only to be vastly disappointed. As the youngster threw open the apartment door, her face fell.
"Oh, it's you two," she muttered as she turned away.
"Thanks, Kendra!" Stephanie grinned as she stepped into the apartment.
"Always good to know you're wanted," Mindy chuckled. "Hello, Willow."
"Hi, Mindy," Willow said. "You would not believe the day I've had . . . it was amazing! That jet may have been old, but damn! It was the best time I've ever had outside of sex – I damn near had an orgasm out over Lake Michigan. I never thought I would ever sit in the front seat of a fighter jet . . . did I say it was amazing! That Hunter turns like nothing I've ever flown, and it climbs and dives like nothing I've ever experienced..."
"Willow?" Mindy interrupted.
"Yeah?"
"Breathe!"
Willow blushed as she realised that she had developed a nasty case of verbal diarrhoea.
"Sorry..."
"She's been going on like that since she got back," Kendra said. "It's pitiful."
Willow laughed, as did Stephanie and Mindy.
"Don't worry," Stephanie said to Kendra, "Mum's the same when she gets a new firearm – truly pitiful."
"Says the ten-year-old who couldn't stop talking about her new Tanto," Mindy reminded her daughter. "Then there was the Equestria Girls – Friendship Games saga . . . actually, fiasco might be a better description."
"We agreed not to bring that last one up . . . ever," Stephanie hissed as Willow raised an eyebrow.
"Reg said you did very well," Mindy grinned, ignoring Stephanie. "Keep at it, Willow; you're doing really well, and I'm very impressed."
Kendra grinned as her big sister blushed at the praise.
That evening...
West Grace Street
Chicago
As Lucy Ford walked along the street towards her apartment, her senses were on alert.
The veteran Predator was certain that she was being observed, followed, watched. However, her counter-surveillance skills failed to uncover anybody doing anything out of the ordinary. However, she would not put it past someone like Saoirse or Willow to annoy her by stalking her. Both girls were highly skilled, and would enjoy winding Lucy up, she knew. Willow had a strange sense of humour and annoying Lucy would be hilarious to her. Finally, she stopped dead on the sidewalk and gazed into windshield reflections for a few moments, checking all around her . . . but there was nothing. Could she have been imagining it? It was possible – she was good, very good, in fact, but not infallible. Chicago was a safe city – since FEAR was deposed, no one dared to stand against the forces of Fusion, nor even the CPD. It was possible to walk the streets at night without worry that you might be mugged or worse. Muggings and rape still occurred, of course, but the statistics had shown a marked drop in crime across the board.
However, Lucy was well aware that nature abhorred a vacuum and that something or someone would slip into the void left by the departure of FEAR and her allies. Lucy, herself, had nothing to fear. She knew that she was safe and no longer alone. There was nobody in Chicago that would do her any harm – at least no one that she could think of. But that feeling was still there. Even as she climbed up to her apartment, she still felt that nagging feeling that there were eyes on her. With an audible sigh of relief, the young woman entered her apartment and shut the door behind her, securely locking it. Then, she had a thought – could it be Hit Girl? That woman had a morbid curiosity with the theatrical and had often slunk into the apartment without a sound, no matter how well Lucy had secured the place.
"Mindy?" she called out, tentatively, but there was no response.
Lucy was no feeling a little creeped out and as she dropped her keys onto the kitchen counter, she stopped and sniffed the air. There was a different smell in the air – one which she did not recognise, not immediately. It was a smell from her past, but from where, Lucy had no idea. She shrugged. There was nothing she could do about it, so she simply made herself a ham and piccalilli sandwich plus a coffee, before she sat down to rest her weary feet.
Lucy put potential stalkers out of her mind while she ate and turned on the TV.
..._...
A hundred yards away, a young man stood alone in the cold, slightly hidden in the shadows.
The temperature in Chicago had been quite a shock compared to that in San Diego and it took everything he had to try to adjust. However, he had to figure things out. He had to try and make some sense of his life. It had been nine months and five days since his mission had collapsed around his ears. Since then, he had spent too long alone and without his medication. His mind was playing tricks on him. Names, faces, events – all were there, only, he had no idea where they fitted into his life. He had vivid memories of a young girl – about ten-years-old. Then images of the same girl as she grew older, until she was sixteen. He could remember the mission – that final mission. They had agreed to meet should their mission go bad, but she had not appeared at the rendezvous. For some reason, that girl meant so much to him, but he had no idea why. It had taken a few months, but a name had joined the images – Lucy. He also had an image of a large fish in his mind, but he just figured that he was going nuts.
He had figured out parts of a program called Urban Predator and his research had linked the program to the Central Intelligence Agency. Then he had found himself guided to what he knew to be a dead drop, only it held a small steel box, inside of which there were various documents identifying one Leo Shepherd. He knew his own name, of course, but the CIA ID had helped to explain a few things. Scenes of being taught how to fight materialised which explained why he could react in an instant and almost kill someone who was doing nothing more than trying to push past. As he stood in the street, he knew that the SUV two doors down most probably had a shotgun in it. He also knew intuitively knew that a good escape route was through the giant pet store, a few blocks to the west which had deplorable CCTV installed. He would just see things, then catalogue what he had seen as either a threat or a potential asset. His mind was like a pre-programmed computer, and it was driving him bonkers!
He had followed the girl several blocks from the bus stop, learning her routine without even noticing. He knew where she shopped. He knew where she went to school. She had a motorcycle but she much preferred to walk and use the 'L', it seemed. She had many friends and would spend time at a fancy dojang in the city, training with those friends. For two days, she had vanished, but then she had returned just that morning to go to school. Surprisingly, there were other faces which he recognised, but could not place, all at the school. He had begun to work out that she was his Lucy and that she meant a lot to him, however, she appeared to be enjoying a happy life and he did not want to disturb that happy life. On top of everything, he had seen her with a boy. Were they an item? He had been unable to get close enough to figure that out. A part of his mind was telling him to stay clear of any faces he recognised which stymied his attempts to obtain information. However, she was safe. She was happy. What more could he want for the girl he loved more than anything else.
Leo Shepherd decided that enough was enough and he walked off down the street – he would check in on Lucy in the morning.
That same time...
Glenview
Mindy paced backwards and forwards, totally ignoring the two girls who stood before her.
Eventually, after several minutes, Mindy turned to the pair of miscreants, her expression blank. She glared down at them both, watching them wither beneath her gaze. Then, finally, she spoke.
"I suppose I can't blame you for hacking into my computer systems – after all, we don't punish a dog for pissing on a fire hydrant; it's just being a dog," Mindy commented.
Stephanie frowned.
"Are you comparing us to dogs?" she asked.
"I suppose so," Mindy mused. "I understand that you both have certain urges..."
"Steph has urges for Tommy...," Abigail muttered, and Stephanie giggled.
"Are you two taking this seriously?" Mindy asked.
"Yes," Stephanie grinned as Abigail nodded, appalled with herself.
"Fuck off, both of you!" Mindy growled. "Next time you hack into anything, Stephanie, I will chop off your hands . . . and as for you Abigail, I expect better from you!"
The two girls bolted for safety.
"Thanks, Steph, I really needed that," Mindy heard Abigail complaining.
"Oh, quit your moaning, Sammy!" came the annoyed response.
Mindy chuckled as she recognised a scream that sounded very much like a scream of pain originating from Stephanie . . . closely followed by another scream of pain which sounded very much like it came from Abigail.
Later that night...
Glenview
After Dave had finished cleaning up from the evening's feeding frenzy, he found his wife sitting cross-legged on the living room floor with Sophia stretched out beside her.
Mindy was busy field stripping a Walther PPK – one of twenty-eight pistols which Mindy had secreted around the house in easy-to-reach locations. Dave figured it was probably her third weapon cleaning that evening as there were a couple of smeared streaks of gun oil on Mindy's left cheek. Typically, she was deep into her work and enjoying every second. Otherwise, the house was quiet which Dave considered out of the ordinary, so he went to go check on the munchkins.
Dave found Anne-Marie lying in her bed, a large book on horses propped up before her. The young girl waved at Dave as he peeked his head around the door.
"Night," Dave said.
"Night, Dad," Anne-Marie replied.
Dave moved onto the boy's bedroom where he found them both tapping away at their tablets, both in their respective beds. It was too quiet, Dave considered as he dodged Razor and Kiara who were busy chasing each other around the landing. As Dave approached the remaining bedroom, he hesitated, dreading what he might find. However, as he nudged open the bedroom door, he found the two girls sitting on the bed. Stephanie had her laptop open on her lap and the two girls were busy working on something. Abigail was stroking Horatio who lay on the bed, purring loudly.
"You two girls okay?" Dave enquired.
"We're cool," Stephanie grinned.
"What are you up to?"
"Updating the list of recovered Predators," Abigail replied.
"Oh?"
"We total fifty, including Maxine and Deborah," Stephanie advised Dave.
"That's not a bad number," Dave commented.
"Only," Stephanie said, somewhat forlornly, "There are these two guys still missing."
Stephanie turned the screen around to show a list of names:
Stephanie Walker – Recovered
Jasmine Summers – Missing
Ruth Anders – Missing
Maxine Bell – Recovered
Yvette Dubois - Recovered
Electra Harmon – Recovered
"The Psyche Crew?" Dave enquired.
Stephanie nodded dolefully.
"Just two left . . . we'll find them, Steph."
"What if they're dead?" Stephanie asked, tears in her eyes.
"If they're as strong as you, Maxine, and Yvette, they'll be fine," Dave reassured his daughter. "Why is Electra on the list?"
"She qualifies as part of the Psyche Crew," Stephanie explained. "Without her, I could never have defeated Abigail. Without Electra, I would probably be pushing up the daisies, right now."
Abigail grinned, knowing how much Electra meant to Stephanie and how Electra had been a key part of Fury's downfall in the forests of Virginia, so many months before.
Elsewhere that night...
North Lakewood Avenue
Willow slipped out of her bed, a little after eleven that night.
She checked in on Kendra who was fast asleep, buried under her duvet. Willow felt goose bumps on her body as she grabbed her house keys and gently eased open the front door to the apartment, slipping it closed behind her. She almost ran down the staircase, past Rachel's apartment and onto the left-hand apartment on the first floor. As she got there, she found the door ajar and she pushed her way through, closing the door behind her. There, sitting on the couch was Joel. He turned and grinned as Willow moved towards him. The boy stood up and he swiftly kicked off the only thing he was wearing – his boxer shorts. Willow followed suit, pulling off her T-shirt and leaving both completely naked.
Neither said a word as both embraced each other and Willow pushed them onto the couch. She could feel his throbbing member pressing into her stomach. Willow was amazed that she been semi-aroused for almost the entire day and she wasn't certain that her panties had been soaked only in sweat after the flight in the jet. Somehow, she just had to alleviate the sexual arousal and only Joel could do that for her. She had pushed him away for so long that she though maybe he would have got bored and moved onto another girl, but no, Joel had eyes only for Willow. Joel kissed Willow; each kiss full of love for the young woman. His hands moved down her back and caressed every inch of skin he could find. Willow tensed up as his fingers ran along her backbone and she shuddered to his touch. In response, Willow moved up Joel's body until she felt something hard between her legs and then she pushed back down again.
"Holy shit, that feels good!" she exclaimed, and Joel laughed.
"You are, er, very moist tonight," Joel pointed out.
"That damn flight, it turned me on like you would not believe!"
"Oh, I believe it," Joel muttered as he kissed Willow with all the passion and love he could muster.
With a muted clatter, they both rolled off the couch and onto the floor, Joel was on top and he began to thrust as hard as he could with Willow groaning at each thrust as her body tensed up and an unbelievable orgasm began to build deep inside her. It was only their eight time and the pair were keeping their relationship a strict secret – however, that seemed all but impossible as most had quickly noticed a remarkable change in Willow since Joel had moved into her apartment building. Willow had changed into a more confident and a much more likeable person as a direct result. Rachel knew what was going on, as did Kendra, but both had agreed to not say anything about it, neither confirming nor denying the relationship when asked. Mindy, of course, had taken things a step further and Kendra had been appalled to open the door to a delivery guy who had delivered a box of sex toys. The items had been carefully selected with input from Marc and Shannon who, it seemed, regularly bought from that supplier and received a hefty discount as a result – Willow had been mortified as Kendra had demanded to know what each item was for. The ten-year-old was particularly confused by the leather harness and bridle – "But we don't have a pony," Kendra had commented innocently.
When the orgasm exploded, Willow felt like she was being torn apart. It was like nothing she had ever endured in her entire sixteen years of life and it seemed to go on and on as her groin felt like it was on fire. As for Joel, he had exploded into Willow at approximately the same time that her own devastating orgasm had struck. Both fell back onto the floor, panting heavily, unable to move or speak for many minutes.
"That was . . . amazing!" Willow breathed as she ran her left hand across Joel's stomach.
"Hell, yeah!" Joel responded.
Together, they both headed into the kitchen to get a coffee. As they both stood there, naked as the day they were born, sipping their coffee, they both took a moment to consider how their lives had turned around and that they were living as adults in an adult world with not a single worry on their minds – except maybe that their sexual relationship might become public news. As Willow finished her coffee, her eyes twinkled as she looked at Joel.
"I still cannot believe that my logbook shows a fucking Hawker Hunter!" Willow thought as she stood there, her heart still pounding. "Oh, God, just the thought of that awesome jet makes me want to fuck again."
Joel rolled his eyes as he began to tease Willow's pert nipples.