Chapter 16: The Meeting

Bobby huddled miserably inside his rain slicker, the wind cutting every piece of exposed skin, as he drove the small powerboat into the marshy creek. He cursed the need to navigate without lights but he knew that if anyone saw him here, or with the person he was meeting, his life would end immediately.

The shadow of another craft, lying low in the water, appeared from behind a tall screen of marsh grass. Bobby tossed a line across to it and stepped back to let his conspirator cross. Paris got on board Bobby's boat.

"Call them off," the rebel commander said without preamble.

"Call whom off?"

"The tanks. They're too much for us. Infantry we can handle. Even the Marines. But the tanks are just too quick and heavily armed."

Bobby flashed his most charismatic grin. "Now you know I can't do that, too many questions in the media about why I was soft on the rebels. Why I was meddling in military affairs, that sort of thing."

"Look Tyler. We have a deal. And when we're gone, who's going to buy your missiles and stolen government supplies then?"

"Oh there's plenty that's willin' to pay for what I've got. But I haven't forgotten you."

"Well if you're so worried about questions, you might want to worry about the question of how a bunch of farmers got the latest Wyvern missiles."

"Don't fuck with me boy." Bobby's mask of calm control slipped for just a second. "My dealings with your father are untraceable." His smile slid smoothly back into place. "Besides, we needn't threaten each other. You got the munitions you needed at a fair price."

"But what about the tanks?"

"I got you the Wyverns. Learn how to use them and kill the tanks yourself," Bobby snapped. He was getting cold and looked at his watch.

"We don't have time."

"I'm sorry. There's nothing I can do." Bobby restarted his engine. "I think that this interview has reached its conclusion. Don't you?"

"Before you leave. Why don't you look at this," Paris handed Bobby a small video disk player, "while you think about what you can do to help us."

Bobby's mind whirled as he watched the beginning of the video. It was a movie of him and Jonas Mawbry arranging a shipment of anti-tank missiles and other military supplies. He remembered the meeting, almost a year ago. He paled.

Just when Bobby thought that he had seen the worst, Paris added the coup de grace. "That's just a sample. I've got others. Well hidden. And if anything happens to us, these go out. Think of it as a life insurance policy."

Without waiting for Bobby's reply, Paris climbed out of the darkened cabin and on to his own boat. Untying the boat lines, Paris yelled, "I'll be in touch. But don't wait too long. We can only hold another few days. And if we fall, you're falling with us."

Cautiously retracing his route, Bobby piloted his boat back to his private dock in his expensive Norfolk home. He knew that if those disks got into the wrong hands, his plans for a future in politics were done. 'Hell, ' he thought grimly, 'his life was done.'

His mind had been churning since Paris delivered his ultimatum. How could he get those disks? He knew that the Shoremen were doomed. Their rebellion had run its course and the government would move in, it was only a matter of days or maybe hours. People were going to go to jail when the media started looking for scapegoats and Bobby was going to make sure that he wasn't one of them. He was a survivor, he told himself.

As the battle lines solidified, Manlius became afraid that if the government's military assault lost momentum it would give the rebels time to renew their political efforts or, perhaps, another counter attack. All of his efforts, and all of the glory, would go directly to Tyler. The very thought of Tyler made the General's stomach churn. He pressed the intercom button and told his aide to get Simon on the phone.

"OK Woodsman, it's time for you to earn your pay." The General was trying too hard to be chummy- something that immediately put Simon on his guard. "We're sending you in tonight. You're code name is Odyssey. Disable the Palladium and be ready to support our attack just before dawn."

Madeline Altarby lay in bed playing with herself. Her stomach muscles expanded and contracted, driving air in and out of her system as the fire in her loins built. Her fingers gently massaged circles on top of her clit.

She whimpered softly though her nose. Her insides melted as her orgasm built. She was thinking about the previous night. She and Bobby had eaten dinner in one of the restaurants that he liked to go to. In between courses, he had leaned over and taken her hand. He pressed it into his lap, grinding it against his hard on.

"Give me your panties," he whispered.

Although she had hesitated, she knew that she could never deny him. She could not remember when he had reached out and taken control of her. Maybe it had been that first night when he took her to his bed. Maybe it had been any of the times since then but she knew that Bobby had unlocked something inside of her, something that drove her to be utterly devoted to him.

She had squirmed out of her panties, extremely conscious of the fact that anyone in the restaurant could look over and see what she was doing. When she had finished her dessert, her pussy drooled over the sex that she knew would follow. They had driven home in with her legs spread as Bobby finger fucked her at stoplights. By the time they made it back to Bobby's house she was dripping wet, her juices running down her thighs.