Chapter 1

Steelwolf woke to a buzzing on the back of his skull. Opening his eyes he saw he was still in his darkened bedroom and there was no movement or danger obvious to him. Cognizant of the buzzing, Steelwolf lifted his head up while reaching with his right hand; when he heard a slight moan as someone rolled off his chest he paused.

"Oh, just her," was his only thought before he looked to his left and saw his other bed partner. Seeing her brought a smile to his feral lips.

But the buzzing in the back of his skull would not abate; continuing with his right hand he felt the sub-dermal receiver set the in the back of his skull and pressed it. After hearing the expected click, the buzzing subsided. He thought loudly, "This is Steelwolf."

Steelwolf was not telepathic; the sub-dermal receiver was designed to do two things; protect its user from telepathic attacks and to facilitate secured telepathic communications, if a telepath knew the right 'frequency'.

His psychic shout was promptly answered, "SW, this is SG1. You have been activated by the new DepSec for a liaison mission with NYPD: SWAT-PD. I am en route and will pick you up in seven mikes."

The new Deputy Secretary of the United Nations Security Council Paranormal Peace Keeping Force had a job for him in conjunction with the New York Police Department: Special Weapons and Tactics - Paranormal Division. That told Steelwolf the assignment could range from a boring stakeout to taking down of a rogue Para. Steelwolf hated being bored and was hoping for the latter. SG1 ID'd his mental caller as Stephanie Gonzalez; a very cute Hispanic girl originally from Harlem.

Steelwolf grunted in mental reply, "Roger that, pickup in seven minutes."

Steelwolf looked at his two naked bed companions and smiled again. They were typical fan girls, but the blonde on his left was his current favorite. She was average in looks but made up for it with her willingness to do absolutely anything for Steelwolf in or out of the bedroom. The fangirl on his right rolled back over to bury her face in his side, seeking more warmth in the cool morning air. She was a very tasty looking morsel but for Steelwolf, kind of stagnant in the sack.

Steelwolf was born Clint Tin Rafferty in Saigon. His mother was Vietnamese and his father a Canadian business man from Alberta. Eventually his family moved him to Canada where his mixed heritage was not as much of an issue as it had been in Vietnam. He was a quiet, insightful boy until that tragic event in late 2001. Like so many, it affected him profoundly; unlike many, he slowly changed as a result of the trauma. As an adolescent boy, Clint was fairly unremarkable, his dark hair, not so dark skin and almond eyes was fairly common and the only thing that made him stand out was a slight birth defect. He did not have opposable thumbs; instead he had a fifth finger on each hand. Clint would be the first to tell you it was a minor nuisance as birth defects go.

By the end of 2001, the hair on his body darkened and lengthened to the point it looked like he was completely covered in a soft felt. By early 2002 his ears had tapered, canines enlarged and lowered and his nails thickened and hardened making them more arduous to trim. By this time Paras had entered the world and Clint knew that he too was one of them.

His transformation, though slow and painful, was completed when Clint was 16 years old. Not only did he grow to his final height of five foot eight but his weight topped at four hundred and twenty-one pounds, nearly three times normal. With that increased density came paranormal levels of strength. Unfortunately, he suffered an extreme lack in his sense of touch.

Clint didn't so much volunteer for the Royal Canadian Mounted Police as he was drafted once his uniqueness became obvious. He understood that the Canadian government was trying to protect him from the fear and uncertainty that gripped the world as Paras made their mark. The agency was also trying to figure how to use his peculiar skills.

Being near-bullet-proof jaded Clint to the point that he only saw the good aspects of his uniqueness. Currently the most positive aspect of the Paras was the near abandonment of the old Hollywood celebrities, replaced by even more ardent worship of all things Para. Unlike the stars of Hollywood who were just actors, Paras were more than human: some much more.

When the United Nations came to their senses and realized their traditional inability in the facilitation of peace and prosperity among their member nations was dooming their planet, the Security Council formed the Paranormal Peace Keeping Force. The five permanent Security Council members would be required to sponsor two Paras each, while the ten rotating nations would have to sponsor one Para per country giving the SCPPKF up to twenty active Paras. The 'Blue Team' as they would be known, thanks to their light blue jumpsuit uniforms, stood apart from the more traditional non-Para UN Peace Keepers, nominally referred to as the Blue Berets or Blue Helmets.

When Vietnam's inaugural election to the UN Security Council occurred in January 2009, they surprised everyone by petitioning Canada to allow Steelwolf to be their representative with the Blue Team. Vietnam didn't have a Para who met the SCPPKF requirements. Canada was more than willing to let their Para represent the land of his birth.

A familiar feeling broke Steelwolf's reverie. The blond fangirl had awoken and moved between his legs; her moans of pleasure as she suckled on his thick penis reminded him why she was his favorite. She was sucking quite forcefully, knowing he hardly felt her hot, soft mouth. She had learned nothing pleased him more than her verbally showing her pleasure while she fellated her hero. If she was lucky, and he was particularly excited, then sometimes she would even get a nice salty treat.

But not this morning. Steelwolf petted the blonde's ruffled morning hair with his paw-like hand, careful not to scrape her; not that she would have minded. She was eager to please and would allow her Para to do whatever he wanted to her. But Steelwolf knew enough to not let his libido get the best of him as he languidly gazed over her prostrate form and that of his other bed companion, the large breasted brunette. She was still cuddled tightly against him since he did not need nor allow blankets on his bed.

With a wicked grin, Steelwolf dragged the claws on his right hand along the brunette's back. His sense of touch was so bad that if he wasn't careful, his claws could shred the sleeping girl's skin.

"Oh!" the brunette gasped, as she felt the claws scrape her back prompting her to roll away from his warm and solid form. She was older than the blond by two decades; only a rigorous diet and expensive boob job got her any interest from hunks like Steelwolf. She matched Steelwolf's grin when she realized where he was gazing. "Yeah, you better like these tits, they cost an arm and a leg."

The brunette gripped the sides of her saline enhanced breasts, sliding her hands forward until she got to her nipples. With a wicked smile on her face she tightly pinched her nips and twisted roughly. The flaring of Steelwolf's nose matched the sudden pulse of his turgid rod, prompting a muffled yelp as it unexpectedly tickled the back of the blonde's throat.

Steelwolf laid his head back and luxuriated in the worship of his two fangirls.

When he finally moved to stand up, the brunette gave a pout and continued to rub her mons in anticipation of the morning festivities; she was almost always ready and willing for Steelwolf to pound her the way only a Para could.

The blonde was more in tune with her hero's wants and stood, moving towards the kitchen, the morning's impromptu carnal activities forgotten, "Coffee?"

"No time, ride is on the way." That was enough for the blonde who followed Steelwolf into his walk-in closet to watch him dress. The brunette was lost in her own world and was frantically rubbing her clit while sliding three fingers deeply into her pussy, hoping to entice him back to bed.

In the closet, Steelwolf had to stop himself from automatically grabbing one of the solid black t-shirts that he preferred to wear out in public. They nicely matched his black leather pants and custom boots.

Black was all he wore; except when he was on the clock with the Blue Team. Then he had to toe the line and wear the sky-blue jumpsuit marking him as a representative of the UN. The UN seal was on the right shoulder, the official Blue Team seal on the right and his name in on his right chest. He thought the whole uniform was tacky, but the boots were comfortable even if they were sky blue. Similar to his custom black leather ones, but, like the jumpsuit, they were made from an artificial material that was both tough and very flexible.

Pulling the zipper up to his neck, he looked at himself in the mirror, smiling as the blonde licked her left hand before wiping the hair on the top of his head flat.

Exiting the closet on their way to the bathroom so Steelwolf could brush his teeth, neither paid any attention to the moans coming from the bed.

Hurtling just over the tips of the New York skyscrapers, Stephanie Gonzalez thought about how much she loved most of her job as a Psi-Tech. Veering towards Battery Park she banked harder than was necessary but she had no passengers with her and the maneuver brought a smile to her face.

Because of rules agreed to by the Security Council the Blue Team was limited to twenty Paras. Those twenty had been further limited to scoring a five or less on the PF Scale, which was the accepted way to measure just how powerful a Para was.

Stephanie herself was a Para, but she only scored a "1" on the PF Scale; her empathetic telepathy was just too weak. After the Blue Team suffered a catastrophic loss in 2006 trying to stop a gang war, the guidelines were loosened. After the dust had settled, Newark, NJ was a wasteland and in the new world of Paras, one more growing pain had been endured.

A score of five on the PF Scale is still the bar, but if the hosting country gave a strong enough argument then a waiver could be issued to allow that Para on the Blue Team with a higher score. Additionally, a minimum score of three was also implemented. To bolster the limited Blue Team, the Psi-Tech positions were created to utilize Paras with a score of "2"or less. The Psi-Techs were support personnel only, not allowed in combat. Their valuable services in support roles quickly made them indispensible to the Blue Team.

As a Psi-Tech, she used the MorningStar Mark III Psi-Enhancer helmet to provide near instantaneous communications for the Blue Team. She was also well trained in advanced first aid and more importantly, transporting the Blue Team via the Hawker Hover Car. The HHC looked like a speed boat that flew; indeed, it could operate on either land or water. On the rear of the car were mounted two powerful turbofans which gave the vehicle its tremendous thrust and speed.

Stephanie hated having to wear the badly-designed MorningStar helmet, which was not only heavy, cumbersome and stifling but also prevented her from turning her neck. The helmet was supposed to be sealed at all times, but absolutely the worst thing about wearing it was the fact that the operator had to have their head shaved bald. Her jumpsuit also had to be sealed, so over the course of her twenty-four hour duty rotation would get sweaty, grimy and began to chafe.

When Stephanie had tested positive for Para abilities, she was elated. The disappointment came later, as further tests showed that she would never register higher than a "2" on the PF Scale. The MorningStar did not elevate her emphatic abilities, but it allowed her to communicate telepathically with anyone in the UN SCPPK network and mentally control the Hawker Hover Car as well as a trained fighter pilot.

Flying the Hawker almost made up for the loss of her hair; almost. Banking towards the Ritz-Carlton in Battery Park, Stephanie buzzed the upper floors the UN had procured as quarters for some members of the Blue Team.

A small platform was mounted on the balcony of each condo that housed a Para, to allow the HHC to conveniently dock. The Paras of Blue Team received a healthy stipend and free housing at an upscale location.

The Ritz-Carlton was the best of the three condo's; the other two locations were in Brooklyn and Jersey City. The Psi-Techs were taken care of as well, but their stipend wasn't even half of the Paras combat members of Blue Team, and their housing was located in Staten Island and the Bronx.

Sometimes Stephanie was jealous of the more powerful Paras, and as she nimbly dropped the Hawker on Steelwolf's platform that jealousy flared. The platform looked directly into the large bedroom, giving Stephanie an un-obstructed view of the naked blonde joining a large-breasted brunette, apparently in the throes of an orgasm. The torrid scene brought to the forefront just what sort of perks a more powerful Para would garnish. Why couldn't she have a posh suite with two naked fanboys servicing her?

As the electric turbofans of the Hawker powered down, the top of the Hawker opened. This easy access allowed a quick exit for those Paras who could fly or handle a high drop.

Stephanie wasn't surprised that Steelwolf didn't even wave good bye to his two playmates as he walked out the balcony door. Looking back at the two lovers she didn't think they were of mind to care at that moment. For a moment Stephanie wished that was she was the one who had her thighs in a vice lock around the blonde's head obviously still riding a very nice orgasm. Looking back at Steelwolf as he was climbing in she knew something better was going to happen with her in the very near future instead.

Once he was in and starting to strap himself in, Steelwolf noticed Stephanie had started winding the electric turbofans back up while closing the top. He had to be mindful of his mass while riding in the Hawker; the last thing he wanted to do is throw off his pilot's control by with a sudden movement. The UN didn't like to receive bills for his rough landings; light on his feet he was not.

Not a fan of someone plodding around in his mind, Steelwolf spoke to his handler, "So what's the gig?"

Stephanie was not a fan of the helmet's voice amplifier, which the manufacturer had designed to make any wearer sound like James Earl Jones. Quite a few Psi-Techs who were annoyed by this would continue to communicate telepathically even with the target of the conversation in front of them.

Stephanie respected her passenger's privacy, and gave the mental command for the front visor of the helmet to open, effectively putting her in blinders. She couldn't turn her head and Steelwolf couldn't see past the side of the open visor without leaning his head in front of her, which he did not do.

He had conversed numerous times with a Psi-Tech with their visor open and knew that there was a second visor that covered the tech's eyes, though he really wasn't sure what the internal visor did. He couldn't be bothered to ask.

With the top secured, neither had to yell to be heard over the electric turbofans behind them, "In the Bronx at a warehouse the NYPD were staking out a Para with the silly handle of Crimson Rook has been seen unloading some sort of contraband."

Grunting, "Crimson Rook? He's small fry."

"Yeah, that is what the Boston PD thought a few days ago; they still sent in their SWAT-PD to apprehend him."

Steelwolf vaguely remembered reading about some op gone wrong in Boston. "That was Crimson?"

"Yep. Seems Crimson was able to equip his lackeys with some high powered weapons. The lackeys shredded the SWAT-PD; Crimson Rook didn't lift a hand and when the dust settled he was gone; vanished."