Texas was the first to declare independence when martial law was imposed on the citizens of the old US. Given the wars in Central America along with the economic collapse, the "Gang of Four" ruling Washington could do little to stop the states in the west and southwest from declaring secession. A shoot-on-sight policy was implemented for curfews, which led to dozens of incidents involving US troops firing on civilians. Even worse were the disappearances of citizens by paramilitary contractors in the employment of the US government. Uprisings led to political revolution and secession from federal rule.
Texas, unlike most of the western states, decided not to formally join any Free State alliance. The decision was partially due to the fierce independence of the Republic's political leaders. The practical reason was centered around two things: resources and fear. The Free States were still technically part of the NUSA, but they enjoyed a wide latitude of control over various state functions like migration and foreign diplomacy. Joining any bloc would have required Texas to contribute funds to defending the whole. It would also have painted a big target on the Lone Star Republic. When the Unification War began with NUSA reclaiming Utah, Southern California, Wyoming and others, Texas remained neutral and relatively unharmed. However, the Republic didn't escape the fallout of war completely unscathed.
Terrorism by various political factions, as well as American Indian tribes, left a mark on the Texas landscape. It was not a coincidence that the attacks began to pop off several years after the war. Washington's involvement was always suspected behind the attacks, but never conclusively proven. Small towns as far north as Amarillo or as far west as El Paso were hit hard by Nomad and bandit raids with increasing frequency. The deadliest of those raids took place in Max's hometown of Odessa in the western plains. Dozens were killed, the public was fed up, and political leaders took notice. Two suicide bombings erupted near NUSA bases in New Mexico and Oklahoma. The President blamed the Republic and responded with missile strikes across key cities in Texas. The hostilities were short-lived as the two sides agreed to de-escalate and keep the peace. The incident was a catalyzing moment for Austin. If independent Texas were to survive, then it would need strong allies, which brings us to the present day.
**************************************************
College Station, TBI Headquarters
Republic of Texas,
May 2095
**************************************************
Our arrival at College Station with the help of New Galveston police officers was a nightmare. It didn't start out that way. Our guest of honor, "Ali," was transferred over to the interrogation unit upon arrival at Texas Bureau of Investigation (or TBI for short) HQ. Once that was settled, we were sent to a conference room for debriefing. The last operation was a cluster fuck, we were only supposed to bug the place and get out. We weren't supposed to apprehend the target, but the intel we found on the kid's tech was more than enough to make up for the mess.
Lucky, Terrence and I entered the conference room and took our seats. Everything seemed to be going well. Terrence and Lucky were calm, so was I. We were expecting Danny Miller, our TBI head, for this investigation, to conduct the briefing. Instead, the TBI director himself, in his signature tailored suit, walked in with another official, also wearing a suit. Upon noticing who they were, we all stood at attention.
"Gentlemen, take your seats. In case you're not aware, I am Director Colby. I will be debriefing you all on the situation as it stands. This here with me is Director Alvarez of the Foreign Service." He said, with one hand pressed on the room controls.
We took our seats. The blinds closed, obscuring the rest of the floor. The suited men took their seats. Colby was a greying Anglo-Texan from Amarillo with dark, somewhat sunken eyes. He sported a slight tan, no doubt from outings on the beach. The other gentleman was a slightly younger Tejano with jet black hair and a full beard. You could tell from his eyes, he had weathered a few storms in the past. He was definitely older than I was.
"Gentlemen, I bring good news. The intelligence you have acquired, coupled with your acts of bravery in both Lufkin and in New Galveston to pursue the agency's objectives, has earned all of you a promotion. This is fine work, you should all be very proud."
"Thank you, sir, " Terrence replied, "I think I speak for the team in saying we will continue to pursue the case with the same effor–"
Our boss decided to interrupt, "No, you will not."
"Sir?" Terrence was nervous. At this point, I was expecting him to tell us we were being reprimanded somehow. New Galveston police would have known that Rangers had been active by now. The leaders in TBI hated bad press, even when they give "the nod" to covert operations such as this.
"The case is already solved. It is with distaste that I learned your efforts have uncovered illicit activity tracing back to some friendly elements close to Austin." He said with visible displeasure.
The Foreign Service is a kind and gentle way of describing what some have come to call "The Texas CIA." On the surface, the department does basic foreign outreach, shaking hands with corpos and governments alike. Making deals, bringing foes together and all of that happy-go-lucky bullshit. If you look underneath the hood, you encounter an infinitely complex web of mutual bedfellows, overseas entanglements, money laundering, torture and a giant thick wall of lies to cover it all up. Two-bit snakes and hustlers was the reputation they have to come to earn amongst both law enforcement and the military. The head guy over at spookville, Mr. Alvarez, finally spoke up.
"There is little we need to add to the subject," he said. I could almost spot his forked tongue. I swore I saw our boss rolling his eyes. Fucking two-bit snake!
"Director, are we to understand that the trafficking of a nuclear device through Texas territory is going to be brushed under the rug?" Terrence asked. My senior partner was in disbelief.
"I will leave this to Director Alvarez to explain." Our boss said, shooting a glance toward the man himself.
"What you uncovered is a part of a meticulously planned action for securing the future of this Republic. Details are on a need-to-know basis, and you gentlemen don't need to know." The spook said.
"Meticulously planned?!" Lucky said, with more than a hint of disdain.
"You were the one behind yanking us off the op!" I said. Both directors turned to look at me.
Terrence tried to exert some control, "Sir, I am sure you've been informed of the–"
"I'm aware of the mess you left behind in the hotel. I should, because I was the one who had to clean it up!" The spook barked, "If Mr. Baez had followed orders–"
"Gentlemen!" Our boss exclaimed before continuing, "Mr. Baez, the target of your investigation is the son of a politically connected family from Colombia."
The spook took over from there. "Alejo Pena was sent to New Galveston on our behalf. He is our political asset and a technical expert. The current Colombian government is favorable to our independence as a Republic."
"With all due respect, what about the technical documents on the kid's tech. There are hundreds of documents from arm manufacturers in this hemisphere alone?" I asked, suddenly realizing how much trouble I was in, "And the tattoo on the kid's foot?"
"Mr. Baez, those documents are a decade old at least. Those were proof of talent, nothing more. The kid's an exceptional netrunner with expertise in Quantum Cryptography. Our partners use the cartel for business reasons. The tattoo is irrelevant." The spook was exasperated.
Lucky turned to Director Colby, "Expediency? Sir, will all due respect–"
The conversation droned on for what felt like hours but I didn't hear much of it. As they argued back and forth, I sat quietly pretending to listen while trying not to panic. The kid we kidnapped in New Galveston was basically political royalty. The same kid I went balls deep in was politically connected and wealthy. I was so fucking dead. No matter where I fled to or how much I changed my identity or reconstructed my face, his family would hire the best assassins in the world to kill me. I was sssoooo fffucckke–
"Baez!"
"Yes?" I sat up straight and tried to calm myself. I could feel everyone's eyes on me, "Sir?"
"Are you even paying attention?" The spook asked with a voice dripping venom.
"It's a lot to take in, sir. We hadn't gotten much sleep since the operation," I replied
Our boss chimed in, "Director Alvarez just received communication from the diplomatic service. There is a request that this team be reassigned to the Military Department. Apparently, the request is coming from Alejo and his family."
Now this was interesting, "Sir, do you mind if I ask why?"
"This is a rather sudden change. What's the mission?" Lucky asked.
"You'll be briefed on your mission by someone in the department. Gentlemen, as far as anyone knows, the nuke you captured does not exist. Are we clear?" Colby demanded.
"Yes, sir," we said in unison.
The session ended shortly after. The two senior leaders conducted themselves professionally, but there was clear animosity toward each other. Colby was right to be exasperated by the increasing influence of the spy chiefs and their meddling on Texas soil. It was bad enough to have these nefarious rogue dipshits fucking up law enforcement operations, but trafficking WMDs was on another level entirely. As soon as we left, Terrence signaled to the team that we were to meet at our usual hangout. Lord knows I needed a stiff drink.
The "Six-Shooter Saloon" was a stereotypical bar in town. It was a fancier establishment than the name would suggest. Terrence knew the owner, Stephen Kim, a Texas gentleman of Korean descent who served in the local police force years ago. We congregated in a section at the back. I sat there nursing a whiskey while Terrence and Lucky were talking shit about the crazy situation. Lucky ran his hands through his cropped black hair, trying to make sense of the senseless.
"A fucking weapon of that magnitude gets smuggled through central Texas like a batch of illegal BDs, and we're just supposed to drop it? Just like that!?" Lucky was incensed. It was a good thing the VIP room was soundproof.
"It's not like we have a choice," Terrence replied, "the boss is giving us a promotion with a substantial bump in pay. Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, Larry."
Terrence was a good six years older than me, but even he was a bit disturbed by the turn of events. The spooks have always done some pretty hair-raising shit inside Texas, but a nuke was taking it way too far.
"I talked to some people I know in the Military Department," Terrence added. "The request for transfer of our team came from Alejo himself. They want us to accompany him on his mission, and he asked specifically for 'Max's Team'."
Terrence and Lucky looked in my direction, and my blood ran cold. The target wasn't supposed to know any of our names. It was a precaution in case we were busted operating in the Free Port area.
"Max, how did he know you, and why would he ask for us to guard him?" Lucky asked. I was starting to sweat. There was no way I was gonna tell them I fucked the soul out of the guy we were interrogating. If it were some cartel twink, then it would be no big deal. I had to think fast.
"Well, I escorted him to the cell. I talked with him a bit and got him to tell me his name. He seemed to be opening a bit." I replied. I couldn't help but think of his soft-full lips wrapped around my cock, desperately taking more of me in his mouth and throat. The feeling of going balls deep in his tight ass was fucking fantastic. I could never forget the sight of his caramel asscheeks jiggling from the force of my thrusts. The orgasm that swept over me was so intense.
"Alright, but why would he ask for us? We kidnapped and interrogated him. Hell, you knocked him out in his hotel room." Lucky asked almost in disbelief.
"He wants to hang out with a couple of Rangers. He is a rich kid, you know the type." I said calmly.
"Well, that should be fun." Lucky was just thrilled at the prospect. Not!
"It's not like we have a choice. We are scheduled to be in Austin a week from now. So make sure to pack accordingly." Terrence said.
We spent some time drinking hard liquor and bitching about the spy chief before leaving for the night. Hours later, I walked into my apartment slightly drunk. The day's events had me exhausted. I walked into the bathroom and started a shower. Rangers often transferred between the military and civilian law enforcement, so the request wasn't unusual. It still stirred a well of emotions. As I peeled off my clothes and washed off under the water, I remembered my first deployment overseas. It was more of a police action in the Caribbean. The sound of water cascading down onto the shower floor was reminiscent of the heavy tropical rain on the island that day.
*********************************************
University of St. Thomas
St. Thomas, NUSA Virgin Islands
October, 2086
**********************************************
Life in NUSA was always difficult, but in St. Thomas, it was becoming impossible. The island had gone through many changes over the decades. Political instability on the mainland had hampered the local government's ability to govern effectively. Without foreign investment, the money for infrastructure had all but dried up. To top it all off, the disaster that destroyed the island of Hispaniola led to refugees flooding into St. Thomas as well as nearby Puerto Rico. The combination of these events led to an endemic gang problem on the Island. The local police forces were not strong enough to combat this growing criminal element. In a gesture of goodwill, the Texas Republic sent the finest warriors to assist the local police on behalf of Washington.
It was hurricane season, and the heavy rains poured down on the island. My unit was operating on the campus of the University of St. Thomas. Our mission was to provide support for a police raid near a mountain village. My job specifically was performing technical support for the drones, transport AV (Aerial Vehicles) and combat robots. There were ten of us in my unit. The campus quad was refurbished for VTOLs (Vertical takeoff and landing). Trees were cut down and landing zones marked. Most of us were in our twenties, sporting green camo uniforms with the armor plating and helmets. We worked around the clock. In the tropical heat and heavy rain, I repaired the combat robots shot to pieces from fighting in the nearby mountain villages.
The cartel, a branch of "Los Trinitarios," originated in the Dominican Republic. After the destruction of the Dominican Republic in 2069, the gang settled in the surrounding Caribbean, including St. Thomas. Smuggling, protection rackets, and sex trafficking, the cartels had it's fingers in every illicit enterprise. But what made them so dangerous was the arms trade. These jokers were smuggling weapons to terrorist factions around the world. Los Trinitarios had recently solidified an arms deal with AlbaCorp, a corporate firm that acted as a front for the "Los Zetas" cartel in Mexico. While NUSA forces were cracking down in Puerto Rico, the Texas Rangers were sent to clean up St. Thomas for good.
After refurbishing the second-to-last MK3 robot, an AV flew into the landing zone and descended. Dust kicked up as the AV landed with the engine still running. The wounded policemen were offloaded first, while other men loaded supplies onto the craft. I finished up with the robot when I saw the base commander jogging toward the police captain. A conversation ensued. Our base commander checked his tablet before making his way in our direction.
"Joseph! Baez!" The commander motioned for us to come closer. Alphonse Joseph was the son of a prominent Haitian entrepreneur serving in the Texas Rangers. He was 6 ft tall with curly black hair and was physically fit. He was also a self-taught netrunner and a talented one at that. It wouldn't shock anyone who knew how ambitious he was if ten years from now, he were running for elected office. The two of us ran over and gave our salute.
"Listen up! The police and the militia are encountering stiff resistance in the nearby mountain village! The chimera that was deployed from here several days ago is severely damaged and malfunctioning. You two are heading up in the AV with the squad to get that Tank moving again!" The base commander yelled over the noise of the AV's engines and the rain.
The chimera was a heavily spider-looking combat robot designed for mountainous terrain. The main body was outfitted with multiple guns, a laser turret and several small missile platforms. It was a massive amount of firepower with an AI operating the machine. Alphonse and I were among a few who worked on the behemoth.
"Yes, sir!" We said in unison. Holy shit, the two of us were practically wet behind the ears (I certainly was). The only experience of combat I had up till that point was ducking into an abandoned house when a lone sniper fired off a shot near our unit in the High Plains. It was a lone wolf attack, and the sniper missed, but I still pissed myself. I was mocked for weeks after that.
Alphonse and I piled into the AV with our weapons and the necessary kit for working on the massive machine. The more senior grizzled veterans made room as best they could. Some of them had cyberlimbs and optical implants, and here we were looking like two school children being called into the principal's office. The AV lifted off and flew toward the mountains. One of the men, the police captain, spoke up from his seat on the aircraft.
"As soon as we hit the ground, you two will be escorted to downed Chimera." He lowered his visor and continued: "Once that machine is up and running, we will push forward and take Harper's Hotel, then stop for the night! Just keep your heads down and keep the Chimera running, you two will be fine!"
We both nodded our understanding. Miguel, the police captain, was an older gentleman with blue eyes and greying black hair. He lowered his visor. The other men were of similar age. Through the pilot's window, I saw the village. It was a large multi-colored town tucked away in the mountains and surrounded by lush tropical vegetation. The smoke rising from the burned-out cars and the odd home or two in a dozen blown to bits were telltale signs of conflict on the ground. Despite the rain, some of those houses were still on fire. I motioned for Alphonse to look in that direction as the AV started to descend.
An abandoned baseball field served as the landing zone for the AV. A field hospital was set up in a nearby building to stabilize the wounded before medical evacuation. As soon as the craft touched down, we filed out of the vehicle and toward the front. Alphonse and I followed close behind the militia men. We couldn't help but spot the wounded men being loaded onto the aircraft. Guys were missing limbs or were covered in burns. Fear rose in me, but I knew what I signed up for. We made our way past burned-out shops and buildings, avoiding open areas and clear windows. Despite the heavy rainfall, snipers had been picking off fighters when given the chance. The closer we came to the Chimera's position, the more frequent the shots rang out. Eventually, we linked up with the rest of the militia at a business district intersection. A soldier guarding the rear talked to Miguel about the current situation.
Miguel directed his men to various positions. He then turned to us, "Alright, you see that pile of rubble over there!"
We looked in that direction. The commercial office space had partially collapsed onto the road. The Chimera's repair drones were hovering nearby. Further up, the militia was engaged in fighting with cartel men using burned-out cars and nearby buildings for cover and firing in our direction.
"The beast is under there! When we give the signal, you delta your asses over there and fix her up!" Miguel yelled over the sound of continuous weapons fire.
We nodded. Before we even had a chance to adjust ourselves, the call rang out. "Now! Go, go, go!"
Alphonse and I ran over to the Chimera as fast as we could. Volleys of bullets rang out to cover our advance. Flash bang grenades were thrown over to distract the Trinitarios. With any luck, the downpour would obscure the view of any snipers around. Alphonse reached the robot first, and I caught up. We managed to clear some of the concrete, giving the repair drones an opening to do their thing. Bullets whizzed past us. Alphonse found the data port and jacked in, connecting his cybernetic implant with the robot.
"Max, the internal sensors are damaged!" He said, his eyes glowing in the rain.
I had to think fast. Two huge slabs of concrete were in the way of the repair drones. We had explosives, but there was no guarantee they would be enough to break them in half. Wait!
"Joseph, can you activate the laser turret!?" I asked. A couple of bullets ricocheted off the road next to me, causing me to flinch.
"Yes, I have got it." Alphonse was ready.
I turned back to the militia and yelled as hard as I could, "HEADS DOWN! HEADS DOWN!"
Everyone, including me, ducked under cover. Chimera's laser turret came alive and cut through the concrete slabs from right to left. The beam hit the cars and melted them down to the car seat. As the laser powered down, the Chimera rose from its pinned position, debris falling to the ground. One of its spider-like legs came down, and I felt the ground shake with each step. Alphonse managed to activate the gun turrets on the Chimera and spray the cartel's position with bullets, killing a few. At that point, the enemy started to retreat behind a building close by.
I stood up with my rifle at the ready. Joseph had just disconnected from the robot while the drones took over repairing the damage. The captain signaled for us to move forward with the rest. We both followed behind the chimera as the militia cleared out the business district and pushed up the hill. All the while, the enemy fired on our position with bullets, grenades, and armor-piercing rockets. The Chimera's AI managed to deploy countermeasures against the cartel's munitions and fire back with the laser beam and guided rockets. Alphonse and I did our best to zero as many of the enemy as we could. Each time we took a position, the cartel would fall back further up the hill. They were trying to defend the hotel, which was our objective to capture.
The four-story Harper's hotel served the broader tourist economy. Tons of vacationers stayed in the rooms and swam in its pools. Los Trinitarios took over the facility after legal commercial activity dried up, turning it into a de facto headquarters. The main building arched around the courtyard pool in front, which was enlarged by the gang to make room for sharks. Whenever someone didn't pay up on time, the cartel would feed a loved one or a partner to the sharks. They terrorized the whole island, bleeding the citizens dry.
We fought our way to the front gates. Our team linked up with other units at the foot of the hill. The gate was barricaded, which was no obstacle for the Chimera's laser. As the laser beam cut through the barricade, one of the militia men turned to me and called out a target's position when a bullet blew his head off. It was a high-powered sniper rifle round, which punched through his armored helmet. Blood and brains splattered all over my face and uniform. I jumped back, scared senseless, trying furiously to wipe the blood off of me while Alphonse attempted to calm me down.
"Baez, get your shit together!" He barked at me.
Alphonse helped me up, "You good, Max!"
"I'm good!" I stood up and we both got back to work.
The Chimera launched a volley of missiles from its chamber, hitting the sniper's position on the roof and anything surrounding it. Our team swept the courtyard and cleared the first floor, then moved onto the second. The building was large, so it was going to take some time. A couple of men were wounded from hidden wall-mounted turrets, as well as I.E.D.s and armed stragglers left behind. Alphonse and I stayed with the chimera, repairing the armor plating just in case more assholes show up. I took the opportunity to wash the blood off my face and uniform with the pool water. When it was time to search the basement, we were called inside. The entrance to the lower level was sealed tight, requiring a full-body scan.
"Do you think you can hack it?" Miguel asked Alphonse.
"I just need a second." Alphonse worked his magic in the control room.
I took up position along with the other men, preparing ourselves for anything the enemy might throw our way. Eventually, Alphonse managed to unlock and open the door. The men filed into a room filled with servers, and the cooling system was working overtime to keep the temperature stable amidst the chaos. We cleared the room. Things were quiet until we heard banging near a wall. One of the men managed to find a code panel to a hidden door.
"Hey Joseph, are you seeing this?" A militia man asked. Alphonse was undoubtedly watching through the cameras.
"I see it. Sending you the code." Alphonse replied. The soldier entered the code, and the hidden door opened. Inside a group of two dozen or more unarmed civilians with their hands up appeared. They were just as startled as we were. An old man stepped forward and asked if the Trinitarios were dead.
"Pretty much." One of the soldiers replied with a level of nonchalance I thought I would never be able to muster.
*****************************************************
Harper's Hotel,
St. Thomas, NUSA Virgin Islands
Hours Later
*****************************************************
It hadn't occurred to me that the cartel would propose a truce. It was clear that they understood which way the wind was blowing. Given the amount of damage our operation had caused in dollars and blood, the island's leader preferred a negotiated settlement. The dozens of people we found in the hidden compartment were hostages taken for ransom or favors. The ages varied, and both genders were represented in the group. Los Trinitarios had even been mad enough to kidnap the son and daughter of two politically connected families, as well as regular villagers. Whether it was stupidity or arrogance, it didn't matter all of them were alive and well. It could have been a lot worse, that's for sure.
When the soldiers heard there was a truce in place, there was a sigh of relief, and a sense of joy overcame the men. AVs had flown into a makeshift landing zone on the roof of the building. The dead and wounded men were taken on board and flown back to the main hospital. The civilians were medically examined on the premises until we could organize returning them to their families. Someone found a case of warm beers, and the men decided to celebrate the best way they knew how. We settled in by the pool, drinking and having a good time. Alphonse and another soldier tossed a few of the dead Trinitarios into the pool, feeding them to the sharks for fun. Music was played as the sun started to set. We were grateful to be alive.
I turned to look at Alphonse, who was drinking along with another soldier, when Miguel sat down next to me. I was slightly startled.
"You've been very quiet, still with us?" Miguel asked. I try my best to squelch my unease.
"Just happy it's over, sir." I took another sip of beer. I don't think the alcohol helped much. Miguel took another sip from his flask.
"You did well today. The cartel will think twice before showing up here again." He said, I wasn't so confident, "The operation in Puerto Rico is pretty much over, so you guys may be going home sooner than you think."
Miguel patted me on the shoulder and left. I sat by the pool for a while watching the sharks swimming in the pool, occasionally taking a bite out of the corpses. Eventually, the party moved inside the hotel. Alphonse was hanging out in the lounge with the soldiers. Some of the civilians were picked up by their families during the truce. About ten of them stayed put, waiting for transport. I made my way to what I thought was the bar. The place was riddled with bullets. Liquor bottles were all over the floor, smashed or hit with bullets during the fighting. I'd be lucky to find a bottle of vodka anywhere in this mess. I didn't realize that there was someone behind the bar until I heard the glass crunching under her weight. She suddenly stood up triumphant with an intact bottle of liquor.
"There we are– Oh! Hey there, you scared me." She said, slightly startled.
"Sorry," I said, "I guess we were both looking for the same thing." I recognized her. She was one of the hostages. I didn't know her name. She was 5'6, blonde with grey streaks, wearing jeans and an oversized black shirt with a shawl wrapped around her shoulders, holding a bottle of "O'Dickin Whiskey." Her smile was warm and inviting. I figured I could use a drinking partner, why not?
"Is that the only bottle you could find?" I asked, I was desperate for a drink.
"The only bottle that's whole, yes. It's an absolute mess over here." She stepped out from the bar, grabbed a stool and sat down. I grabbed two clean glasses and sat next to her, hoping she would be generous enough to share.
"You're not with the police over there?" She said, looking at my uniform.
"No, I am with the Texas Ranger division. We were sent here to help."
"You aren't chipped?" She poured two glasses of whiskey.
"No, I'm not chipped. As you can see, I can still handle my own." I said, irritated by the question.
"My apologies, I don't mean no offense. I am Bridgette, by the way." She handed me the glass.
"Sorry, I'm Max. Salud." We toasted our good fortune, being alive and unharmed. The whiskey burned on the way down. It felt good, like a warm hug from a friend. Maybe I was just homesick. Ms. Bridgette didn't seem the type that came from wealth or high status.
"The cartel held you hostage, why?" I asked. Los Trinitarios had kidnapped a lot of people, some young and some older. There didn't seem to be a preference.
She sighed, "They take people hostage for ransom, or to force people with talent to work for them." She said as she poured another round. "They took me to get my boys, to get them to join their little gang. Ha! Can you imagine? They are just teenagers, for God's sake."
"If you get them young, you can shape them for life." I took a sip of whiskey, "Where are they now?"
"I sent them to live with my family days ago. Keeping them away from the village was the best thing I could have done. I can only hope their uncle has been keeping them in the dark." She took another swig from her glass.
"Are you waiting for your brother to pick you up?"
"No, I'll head home first and see if there is anything left."
"No husband?" I asked gingerly.
"No. I don't care to talk about it either."
"Okay," I took another sip, "I just hope the truce holds. I thought I could handle this, but seeing those guys get killed..."
"You feel bad for those pieces of shit?"
"Haha, fuck no. It doesn't make it better, seeing a guy get blown to bits like that before your eyes. And for what, one gang leaves and another takes its place." I took the bottle and poured us both a glass. I looked back toward the lounge where the guys were drinking and flirting with some girls. I couldn't muster the courage to be too social. All I wanted to do was drink and feel something other than the gnawing emptiness.
Bridgette put her hand on my arm, "Hey, what you have done here, getting rid of those assholes, that's something that will change everyone's lives here for the better. You have done some good here."
I looked into her honey brown eyes she was being sincere. It was strange, despite being younger than her, I was more cynical and jaded. Miguel called for someone named Rodrigo, informing him that his family had arrived to pick him up. At that moment, she got up and grabbed the bottle.
"Come with me, I need to show you something." She said, I followed behind with my glass. She led me upstairs to the third floor. You wouldn't have known it, but the hallways were pretty clean for being the HQ of a Dominican cartel. Hell, even the elevators were still functional, which surprised me given the damage we caused. Bridgette opened multiple doors looking for something she wanted to show me, I guess. I wasn't really pay much attention. After downing my third glass of whiskey, I was feeling warm and fuzzy.
"Ookkay, this one looks good. Come in." She said.
The room was pretty nice, all things considered. The decor was much to be desired but beggars can't be choosers. The room was lit in a neon indigo hue. The balcony window let in whatever light was to be had on a cloudy day. The view of the island was gorgeous, but given recent events, I opted to close the shades.
Bridgette placed the bottle on the desk, "I'm going to freshen up, and I'll be out in a sec." She walked into the bathroom.
Maybe it was just my first time in a full-on firefight, but the first thing I did was fill up another glass. I sat down on the bed, trying not to dwell on the lives we lost and what it all meant. Bridgette was right, at least life on St. Thomas will be a little easier for the folks here. When an elderly woman thanked us for what we did, I felt unease. She looked at us like heroes, but I only did what I was trained to do. I didn't sign up for altruistic reasons. I signed up to be badass and to get paid. But maybe just trying to take a stand and trying to make things better is enough. Even if you just end up shitting yourself.
I sat there and nursed the whiskey when Bridgette walked out of the bathroom. Her curly blonde hair, which had been done up in a bun, was let down. She had washed a bit and put on light make-up. She stood there in front of me in nothing but her black bra and lacy black panties, with her shawl wrapped around her waist. I just sat there stunned, her ample breasts filled the bra to breaking point. Her tummy was soft and somewhat toned. This, coupled with her thick and muscled thighs had me sprouting wood immediately. Bridgette sauntered over to me. I stood up and met her gaze. She took the glass from my hand while looking me in the eyes and drained the cup. She was incredibly sexy.
She placed a hand on my chest. "Max, whenever you feel anxious or afraid, remember this moment. No matter what you face, you will overcome. As long as you are doing the right thing, don't question whether it's worth it. Because it is. Understand?"
"Yes, ma'am." I leaned over and we kissed. It was gentle and sweet at first before we started making up and devouring each other. She tasted of the smoky-flavored whiskey, which I loved so much. She ran her fingers up the base of my neck and through my hair. She broke the kiss with a finger on my lips.
"Well, young man, what do you think?" She asked, before doing a 360-degree twirl. Her ass was a thing of beauty, so round and plump. The black panties did wonders in this lighting.
"You look stunning," I said.
"Good, I was worried. My body isn't what it was when I was younger." She blushed under my lustful stare.
"You're telling me you used to be hotter than this," I smiled, grabbing her by the hips and feeling on her fat ass, "I can hardly believe it."
"Haha, believe it, kid." She gave me a quick kiss before peeling off my shirt. She took in the sight of my muscled chest and ran her hands down my pecs to the muscles of my abs.
"Should I wash up first?"
"No, I could hardly stand to wait." She smiled, and we made out some more. I brushed her cheek with my finger, then down to her shoulders. With my other hand, I explored the muscles of her back and undid her bra. She discarded it and started to massage my cock through my pants. I took a moment to get rid of my boots and then dropped my pants to the floor, kicking them to the side. Bridgette seemed wonderfully surprised at the length and girth of my "magic wand."
"Haha, where have you been hiding this big o' thing?" She asked.
"If I tell you, I'd have to kill you." I laughed.
She knelt and started stroking my dick with her firm but soft hands. "You wouldn't do that to me, would you?"
The sight of Bridgette kneeling with her face tantalizingly close to my cock, not to mention her massive, teardrop bouncy tits, was something I would never forget.
"Maybe," I teased.
She blew her hair out of the way. "Fine, keep your secrets." She winked and continued to stroke my cock, the heat of her breath making my member twitch with excitement. She kissed the tip with her full lips before running her tongue up and down my shaft. She held my cock at the base while swirling her tongue around the tip. And then, proceeded to mouth the head and then released my cock.
"This floor is rough on my knees."
We both got on the bed, where she was more comfortable. She continued to take more and more of my cock in her mouth. Her technique was amazing. She worked my dick with a passion I had never experienced. It wasn't my first time being with a girl, but she was way more experienced than any of them. I dug my fingers into her round asscheek and jiggled it. She giggled from the sensation and started to cup my balls, massaging and squeezing each testicle.
"This is so good," I moaned. She smiled with her eyes. She released my cock from her lips, caught her breath and then impaled herself on my dick. She took my entire rod and stuffed it in her tight throat. My jaw dropped. She was way too good at this. I felt my balls starting to clench, and she could sense it too. She quickly released my cock again.
"*Cough* Cough I haven't done that in a long time, I'm surprised I still could." She said breathlessly. I untied her shawl. She sat upright. While she recovered, I grabbed both of her ample breasts and squeezed. She moaned and winced. I pulled back a bit.
"Too much?" I asked.
"Yeah." She smiled. "I am not some young rocker girl anymore. Be gentle."
"Got it,"
We kissed, I gave her breasts a more gentle squeeze and played with her hard nipples. Breaking the kiss, I proceeded to suck on her right nipple. With my free hand, I dug into her panties and started playing with her clit. She was already sopping wet, but I made sure to be more careful initially. She moaned in delight, which was music to my ears. I switch from one breast to another, gently gnawing at her nipples. She looked at me, as if she could hardly believe she was going to fuck someone so close to the age of her sons. She started breathing harder and ran her fingers through my hair. Then she stopped me with a hand to my chest and took off her panties, throwing them onto the floor.
She pushed me onto my back and assumed a cowgirl position. She grabbed my hard cock, lined it up with her entrance and slowly settled down on it. Because of my girth, she had to pump her hips up and down a few times before taking the whole thing. She let out a horny laugh as she finally worked my member inside of her chamber. I grabbed her breasts as she moved her hips back and forth, grinding more of my dick inside of her. Pretty soon, she was pumping her hips up and down my shaft like a slutty schoolgirl. Her insides were warm and silky smooth. She placed her hands on my chest for balance as we continued fucking. Her tits bounced widely as she rode me. It was incredibly erotic.
After several minutes, I reached up on my elbow and grabbed the back of her neck, kissing her passionately.
"Mmhmph," she moaned into my mouth as we made out. I grabbed her hips and placed her on her back. With cock still crammed inside of her, I pushed her legs back to her chest and started fucking her. Bridgette proved herself quite flexible as I pinned her into a seashell position, driving my dick as deep inside her as possible. I picked up the pace, thrusting faster and faster. Watching her tits bouncing from the impact had my balls tingling. Her honey-brown eyes lit up with lustful passion, she was close to her own orgasm. She kept saying how crazy this is, and commenting on how young I was, but then she said something else.
"What did you say?" I stopped. She looked at me, embarrassed.
"Nothing," she blushed.
"Come on, I know you said something," I teased.
"Don't make me say it. I'm too old for that."
I waited patiently, and my smile grew wider. I could tell she was starting to crack under my gaze.
"I said, 'I was being such a slut', happy?" She replied, pouting from being toyed with.
I laughed, "Well, that's true. You are being a slut, a very sexy milfy slut."
She furrowed her brow, not liking the comment one bit. I gave her a quick kiss on the lips and continued fucking her with abandon. She winced and whimpered a bit from the brute force, but her eyes told me she wanted more. Her breathing grew shallow and erratic, she started clawing at my back and sank her teeth into my shoulder. It hurt, but I pushed past the pain, thrusting away. My balls were on fire. I planned to pull out, but she coiled her legs around my waist.
"Ah! Fuck! Harder! Ah! Fuck me, harder!" She wailed.
I stepped it up again, feeling my own balls clenching up. She cried out in ecstasy as her own orgasm washed over her. Hopefully, the other guys couldn't hear us. I don't know how many volleys of cum I blasted inside of her, but I kept going until I was spent. We stayed frozen for a second before collapsing in a pool of sweat and sensual satisfaction. I turned to look at her and brushed some of her hair out of her face. She smiled exhaustively.
"If you tell anyone I said that, I will definitely kill you." She said.
I laughed, "I'll keep it to myself, ma'am." We talked for a good while before falling asleep.
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Los Trinitarios were a true menace. Their negotiated exit from that side of the Caribbean was welcomed by the population. The Texas Rangers earned a reputation in St. Thomas that would last for a generation. Severing the link between Los Zetas and Los Trinitarios changed the island for the better. After the negotiations, our division stayed for a few weeks longer, performing various functions. Unfortunately, Bridgette found her home destroyed in the fighting. She gathered whatever belongings she could. Many from the village found themselves without a home and migrated to the city, where services were improved but scarce. Bridgette rejoined her family close to the university. I even got to say goodbye in person before departing the island, amongst other things (if you know what I mean).
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Max's Apartment, College Station,
Republic of Texas, May 2095
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As I sipped my nightcap whiskey (O'Dickin Whiskey, of course), I remembered those days in the tropical heat with fondness now. I had attempted to make contact several times with Bridgette over the months after, with no response. I figured she wanted to create distance between us. She had a family to take care of after all, I can respect that. I just hoped she was okay. However, I did manage to do some research on Ms. Bridgette, but that's for another time. I got up from the couch and onto the bed, ready to call it a night, when my phone vibrated.
I took a look, and it was a message from an 'Unknown Sender'.
Unknown Sender: "Bastard, I will get you back!"
What the hell?
To be continued...
