Art Class Preempted - Cover

Art Class Preempted

Copyright© 2014 by autofocus

Section 29

Coming of Age Sex Story: Section 29 - Part Two of Art Class Interrupted. Art becomes life as innocence is lost in school. Strange becomes normal. Innocents go and come often. The models stage a stylistic coup d'etat. Bystanders are conscripted as symmetry is maintained. The population of Bizarro World grows in spurts and fits perfectly for reasons unvoiced but known only in popular fantasy.

Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   Teenagers   Consensual   Reluctant   Heterosexual   Fiction   Humor   Brother   Sister   Cousins   Light Bond   Harem   Black Female   White Male   White Female   Oriental Female   First   Exhibitionism   Public Sex   Workplace   School   Nudism  

“Marcie, get Nicole and Crazyhorse on the line.” He grinned, “Make your pale and pasty self useful.”

“Aye Captain. Give him a fancy hat and he thinks he’s in charge!” She grinned back. “They’re waiting. Do I need to hold the headset for you?”

“We still practice corporal punishment for insubordination, sailor. There is a spanking in your future.”

“Fiend! Talk to your fancy-schmancy friends, Captain Bligh.” She tossed the microphone. “I have a mutiny to plot. Just call me ‘Sister Christian’. Hey. I’m a genius! We need to work up a version of that for our next show.”

Phil caught the mic. “Nicole, Lt. Gomez, what’s it look like from up there? Are we clear to move on?”

“My Singer guys are beginning a sweep of the shoreline from Lola south. It appears clear. Radio chatter suggests the bad guys went all in after the first attack. Each group grabbed for the brass ring independent of the others, basically afraid someone else would shut them out. No honor among thieves.”

Crazyhorse reported, “I sent a couple jumpjets up to support the ‘training exercise’. The guys on the island took care of business on land. Some suspiciously Coast Guard looking vessels seemed to be in charge of the water. They had time to clean up the mess.” He laughed, “We used the 25 mm Gatling cannons on any landing craft still afloat. This contract attracted some very bad players, Captain Swenson. Most of the former soldiers-of-fortune appeared to be ex-Warsaw Pact personnel, probably nostalgic for the good old days.”

“The Apaches, according to Nick’s sources, came from a South African tricked-out container ship inbound to Morehead City. The mercs opened their Trojan Horse just inside our territorial waters. The Navy is sending interdiction ships in force as we speak. The rest you know.” Nicole asked the big question. “The contract would have produced a profit for most of the low budget bounty hunters, but the Cape Town group had to have spent that amount or more even if they had the weapons in stock. Who made it worth their while and why?”

“That, Ms St. John, will get the attention of the Joint Chiefs. I’m just a lowly jet jockey, but even I know heavily armed foreign troops, hired or not, infiltrating our borders with military grade hardware means someone either dropped the ball or opened the backdoor. Now it’s Pentagon, not DHS. They tend to take it personal when soldiers attack Americans on American soil, especially White House Staff, newly minted or not.”

“And that leaves me and my crew where? Do we get the contract withdrawn or do we live in the crosshairs forever?” Phil sighed sadly. “They only have to get lucky once. Can we be sure some free agent won’t try to make his reputation on us?”

“Those answers don’t exist today. Phil.” Nicole said sadly, “People will have your back, rest assured. Your House is the focus of a much larger problem. We can hope that the financiers will find it too expensive to continue their agenda. They can’t have known the entire US military would get involved.”

“In a contest, our armory is bigger than theirs.” Gomez laughed briefly. “We can be very persuasive.”

“I just hope you can persuade them to leave us alone in time. This is no way to live.” Phil looked at his crew who were listening to the speakers. “So where do we go today? On into Beaufort or back to the cabin?”

“You need to understand the greater situation. That blue flag is not window dressing, it is real. The Commander in Chief put you on staff for reasons other than to make a point. Top level clearance is not given to just anyone. He would not have done it if he did not believe you capable of performing the job, whatever he has decided the job is. He is aware of what transpired today and would be extremely disappointed if you do not have the best of the best covering your backs. Let the Seals and Force Recon people keep sweeping the island. They are monitoring the satellite imagery to search for late-comers. Give them a few more hours.” Gomez suggested. “Beaufort might be a good place to make an appearance.”

“Since the war at the high school, you guys are a community symbol to the folks there. I think they see you as part of them so when you come out the other side of hell, they know they can do it, too.” Nicole said. “Everyone saw or heard the Apaches go up in flames, everyone knows you went through the worst of Bellatrix and the nation watched you play music while looking the Devil in the eyes. Today you fought his minions and beat them down. Call Ed Norton and request your usual berth at the Town Docks as if nothing special is happening. They’ll go nuts.”

“I asked the base to send a crew to patch the bullet holes in the ‘USS Devil’s Darling’, of which there are surprisingly few. We like ships flying the Presidential colors to look nice; I suspect they will meet you at the docks with all the toys to do it right. There might be additional ordinance involved. Like you say, ‘You can’t fight on an empty magazine.’ Then there are some guys who want to meet the ‘Devil’s Rocketeers’ who sent some righteous hellfire and brimstone downrange.” Gomez laughed again. “But you didn’t hear that last bit from me.”

“It’s just between us and everyone else on this frequency. Your secret is safe. I’ll let you two go to make life miserable for the stragglers. I have to call in reservations for lunch. Getting used for target practice makes a guy hungry. Wishing you clear skies and gentle winds. ‘USS Devil’s Darling’ out.”

“Smooth sailing to you. Turn your flags right side up. Fly the Seal of the President high at the bow so it stands out. Watch out for the helicopter parts you left floating on the sound. Crazyhorse out.”

“Nicole, do you think anyone will mind if we drop anchor on the ‘Gemory’ and ‘Clea’? I would like to leave the ‘Devil’s Daughters’ here and get them on the way home” Phil asked before totally signing off. “I don’t want to get in the way.”

“I have an even better idea. I’ll get Lt. Gomez to free up some guys at the island. I’ll ferry them down and they can motor patrol back to your dock.”

“Works for me. We’ll stow the weapons and be off. See you soon and thanks for the help. Swenson out. Really.”

Emily pressganged the crew into clearing the ‘Devil’s Daughters’ of any offending hardware while Sherry and Polly began dispensing the daily doses of antibiotics. Phil called the Harbor Master.

“‘USS Devil’s Darling’ to Master Norton at Beaufort Town Dock. Request permission to dock for the afternoon. Dodging debris on the sound. Slow sailing. ETA within two hours. Over.”

“Harbor Master to the ‘Darling’. Channels clear to Berth Seven, Phil. Get here when you can. Over.”

“Master Norton, I don’t want to be a bother, but could you call around to see if a restaurant is recovered from the storm enough to seat two dozen starving sailors? My crew gets rowdy when they miss a meal. No one wants to see that. Over.”

“Captain Swenson, most of the townsfolk are taking care of their homes, but I’ll see if we can arrange something. We have to think of the children and innocent bystanders. Your crew is scary when they are fed and rested. We do not want those girls rowdy! One clear and present danger a day is all we can handle, thank you very much. Over.” They could hear the laughter in the background before Ed killed his microphone.

“You’re preaching to the choir, Ed. See you when we can. Swenson out.”

“Just hope he can feed the choir.” Phil told his crew. “I’ll eat anywhere as long as it isn’t frozen and came from the ocean. The old Front Street places will want to be open to prove that a mere storm can’t beat them down. The new ones won’t want to be shown up. It’s a pride thing.”

“Just give me a fisherman’s platter and a place to sit on the dock and I will be a happy ninja.” SuLing declared. “I promise not to beat up the wait staff if the scallops are good.”

“The dock is a good idea. Beating up the people with the food is not. We can watch the Marines salivate over the ‘Darling’ and munch creatures of the briny deep.” Belle agreed. “If anyone is cooking, that is.”

“We won’t know until we get there.” Phil said. “Keep an eye out for flotsam. Eyes on the radar, ladies. Weapons ready, I hate surprises.”

From the helm he checked to see everyone locked, loaded and eager. The engines roared to life and the ‘USS Devil’s Darling’ slowly came to half ahead, bound for Beaufort. One of the Harriers matched speed and escorted the vessel in. A Singer Blackhawk did the same from behind.

Of course there was an escort, no one wanted the teens, professors or the rescue diver harmed by a random straggler at the last minute. The President would be very annoyed. He would be easy next to the Moms. Their reaction would be terrifying.

They made the turn to starboard just past Harker’s Island. The shipping lane was lined on both sides by ships, boats, cabin cruisers, and anything left floating. People lined the sides, saluting the President’s Flag. Klaxons, horns and sirens sounded constantly. The ‘Huron’ was in line with the others.

“To the railings, girls, salute their colors as we pass. Return the honors. Marcie, please open a closed channel to Captain Hardcastle.”

“Permission to speak frankly, Captain Swenson?”

“Of course, Ensign Barton. What’s on your mind?”

“Is it too late to go to the island and order seafood delivery?”

“They are closing in behind us. We’re trapped. We will have speaks with a certain Marine pilot named Crazyhorse. He knew this was happening.”

“Captain Hardcastle on the secure line, Phil.” Marcie handed him a headset.

“Greetings, Captain. This line is secure. Surprised to see you here. That must be a disappointment to Sec. Abrams.”

“This is a Connor/Phil kind of discussion. The Secretary is or was my boss, but my oath is to the United States. We serve the same President, you through the White House, me through the Cabinet. I don’t know who the Secretary serves.”

“Well spoken, Connor. I’m guessing Belle’s shore leave was your idea? Perhaps, there were Coasties ‘training’ near a certain island near Cedar Island?”

“Phil, there is no way in hell my Coast Guard was going to sit idle. I did what I could to stay within my orders and avoid a court martial. It’s all about the paperwork. I believe we are having a quite successful live fire training mission in conjunction with the Navy and Marines. I borrowed Barton from Okracoke, all very upfront. The official record will demonstrate that the various services can cooperate effectively.” Connor laughed as much as a seasoned veteran could manage. “How was Ensign Barton’s little vacation?”

“We loaned Belle some appropriate clothing which she said got dented a bit, but for the most part she behaved appropriately. The people who so rudely spoiled her vest paid dearly for their discourtesy, as did a fairly large number of their unfortunate accomplices.”

“Barton is a fine sailor. Pleased to hear she represented the Guard well.”

“Connor, she went above and beyond. My girls have been in combat a lot in the past few months. I trust their opinions. Not one of them would have a problem with having Belle at their six. She is a rescue diver at heart but she did not shy away from doing what needed to be done.”

“Meet me at the dock. I want to see the tools your crew used to do what needed to be done. Word is that your ‘Cannoneers’ got their quad 50s and somehow you picked up an impressive missile battery. Hellfires launched by Drama majors?” Connor almost laughed again. “That kinda mocks the official training routine just a little, don’t you think?”

“The Rocket Girls did train, Connor. They studied the book for an hour and had a whole half hour of hands-on practice.” Phil answered. “Then, it was do or die. Besides, they didn’t want to have to reload the tubes. Those suckers are heavy.”

“Too bad your boat doesn’t have blue, white and red racing stripes on the side. Someone would put you in for the Presidential Unit Citation. But the best I can do today is buy the first round of drinks in town.” Connor said, “Iced tea, sweet. Right?”

“Cold and keep ‘em coming. War always makes us thirsty. Thanks for the support, Connor. It means a lot to us. Gotta go act like a captain. See you on the dock if you can squeeze in.”

“We’ll find a berth. Pays to know the Harbor Master. Later. Hardcastle out.”

Amy and Bonnie approached the helm. “Phil, think we can show off a little?” Amy asked.

Bonnie explained. “It would be fun to run the last few miles on the hydroplanes. The water looks clear enough to run fast and I’m hungry. We’ll starve to death if we keep creeping at this snail’s pace.”

“Traci, how far out are we?”

“About five miles to the turn into the harbor proper. Should I sound general quarters?”

“Yes. Announce ¾ ahead on the loudspeakers and sound the horns. Let’s point it and punch it. Marcie, alert Master Norton that we are coming in hot.”

Amy and Bonnie ran back to warn the girls that the boat was going up on the planes in seconds. Phil waited until they were secure and for Marcie to call Ed. At the sound of the horns, he pushed the throttles on a ten count and the outboards roared. His sisters and the tiny Cannoneers stood, holding on to the safed machine guns and waving to the ships lining the channel.

The cheering onlookers loved it. Pure brute force under perfect control in a graceful package is something they all appreciated. More than one person commented, “That is how we do it in Beaufort. Kick ass, take names and make it home for lunch.”

“And look good doing it!”

The ‘Darling’ left the flotilla following behind quickly. Hardcastle, on the deck of the ‘Huron’, said to his XO, “Fight like demons and go joy riding. Those are some crazy brave kids. I hope they never change.”

The XO just shrugged. “I’m just glad we’re on the same side. That is one hot boat. When Rodanthe Station clocked it at 75 knots per hour, I was sure it was a mistake. I’m not so sure now. Was that ‘¾ ahead’ that little girl called over their PA?”

“You heard right. Swenson has more than 900 horses bolted to the stern and isn’t using them all. And be very careful how you address these people when you get face time. That ‘little girl is the daughter of Capt. Max McGuire of the Academy and NCIS Special Agent Elizabeth Hynde McGuire. They others are related to some of the most quietly powerful families in the country. The velvet fist kind of power. Three are SwenPharm, five are Singers and the rest are just like them.” Hardcastle warned his second in command seriously. “But they do not depend on ‘connections’. Half of the ‘little girls’ can take down a Seal before he knew what hit him or her. Phil Swenson is better, plus he wrote the software that runs our communications systems. Make absolutely certain the crew treats them as equals.”

“I will pass the word, Captain, but I don’t expect to be believed.” He said. “Some of the men are hardheaded and quite sure of themselves. I’ve overheard talk of those ‘spoiled rich kids’.”

“If any of my crew gets stupid in a no-stupid zone, I will throw their remains in the brig. I hate to see the Coast Guard embarrassed. ‘Semper Paratus’ does not prepare a Guardsman for what the crew of the ‘USS Devil’s Darling’ can do. The spoiled little girls will deal, be assured.”

“If you say so, Captain. If someone disrespects the crew, should I break it up or call you?”

“You won’t have time to do either, Mister Oglethorpe.” Hardcastle considered for a minute. “I will ask Swenson for a demonstration of his crew’s readiness as part of an ‘official’ ship’s inspection by the Coast Guard. Pick your toughest men to be the participants. Get Swenson on the horn. I think a little competition between the branches is good for morale.”

“The men can get on board with that. Is there a prize?” Oglethorpe asked. “Winners or losers?”

“If a Guardsman wins, he or she gets a week on shore leave. Losers get to scrape barnacles.” Hardcastle decided. “Swenson can set his own terms. If you are a betting man, put your money on the girls. Make the call.”

The Captains talked and agreed to terms before the ‘Darling’ slowed to one eighth for the turn into the harbor approach to the berth. Phil clued the ninjas into the plot to defuse the macho Coasties. All six twins and SuLing thought it was an excellent way to work up an appetite. Phil asked for just one thing. “Don’t hurt them too bad. They have to work tomorrow. Be nice, but don’t hold back. Leave enough for a rematch if they want a do over. Then you can bend but not break.”

When the pier came into view, so did the crowd on the lawn between the waterfront and the street. Several hundred people turned out to greet the crew and the boat, locally famous and now pressed into service by the President himself.

This time, Phil docked bow first so the blue flag was visible from the land. As he maneuvered into place he called out, “Look sharp, ladies. Let the dock men (JJ and JD) secure the lines. Debark and form up into six ranks of four at the water end of the dock. Sherry, Belle, Zina and Emily, then the Cannoneers and Rocketeers, All four Singer twins, The Professors. Next are Marcie, Melody, Polly and Karen. April, May, Traci and I will be in the last row. March on my word to the land end. Stop and salute the flags before you step off the pier.”

The First Mates threw out the lines and JJ and JD pulled the boat tight to the bumpers. “Attention ladies, secure the ship. Make it quick, we have a very important date with some seafood.” The girls safed and stowed the hand guns and rifles under lock and key. The 50s were unloaded and the missile battery was sealed and powered down, control pad locked away with the RPG rounds and .50 cal feed belts. The body armor went into the bins, too.

The Coast Guard and Marines were watching by this time, along with the Harbor Patrol. Nick and the Sheriff were waiting just beyond the chain at the end of the pier. The high school marching band and color guard were tuning up behind them.

April announced. “Ready for inspection, Captain Big Brother. Can we eat lunch now?”

Phil did a walk around and pronounced the vessel shipshape. “Thank you my favorite sailors. Gunny Markowitz was right. You do look like a team of invading Girl Scouts in those clothes.” He returned the fierce looks and said, “OK, let’s debark in style. Form up and march from the end of the dock, left first on my cadence. Move on “one-two’. Short steps. You’ll know when.”

They strolled down the gangplank and formed ranks as planned. From the rear, Phil chanted and the girls echoed.

“We don’t like the bad guys much.”

“We don’t like the bad guys much.”

“They’re all wet while we eat lunch.”

“They’re all wet while we eat lunch.”

“Sound off, one two.” The girls moved out in perfect step. “Sound off, three four.”

All: “Sound off one, two, three, four. One two. Three. Four.”

Sherry: “Cannoneers and Rocketeers. Mercenaries shedding tears.”

Marcie: “Swenson Girls will never fail. My Spring Break tan is very pale.”

Lanie: “Coast Guard girls don’t waste a shot. The M-16 made Belle look hot.”

Belle blushed when the ‘Huron’ crew laughed and cheered.

Sara: “Outboards growling, ocean spray. Stand tall, fight another day.”

“Squad Halt! Face right and salute the colors!” The crew stopped and turned as one. The high school band, cued by a very alert drum major, started playing the ‘Star Spangled Banner’.

Phil’s Girls snapped to attention, hands over their hearts. Sherry, the Marine, Belle, the Guardsman and Phil, Ship’s Captain working for the White House, saluted military style. Every person there followed suit.

As the last notes faded, the Blackhawks flew over with the Harriers a few hundred feet higher. The crowd went nuts just as Nicole predicted. Phil vowed to find out when they dreamed up that piece of showmanship.

Phil broke ranks and went to the front. The girls came to attention, thoroughly enjoying the playacting. “Attention! I’m proud of you all. Hugs all around. Dismissed.”

They all whooped and hollered, turning back into college kids instantly. Phil unfastened the chain and the crew mingled with the excited welcoming throng.

He shook hands with Nick and Blake, asking about the hurricane relief efforts. “Initial damage surveys show about what we expected.” The Sheriff said, “The old structures weathered the storm like they always have. That’s how they got to be old structures. The summer homes and rental property on the beachfront are in bad shape, actually not much shape at all. Those big houses are just pretty kites in a Category 4 blow.”

“Looks like the building contractors, insurance adjusters and real estate agents are going to be busy for months.” Nick shrugged. “The crummy thing is that the tourist trade will fall off and the local merchants will have a terrible season.”

“Were the evacuations successful? Did people listen?”

“140 mph winds make even fratboys wise up. We had some folks hit by debris but so far no deaths reported. Jenny Milden and her volunteers have worked side by side with my department and the EMTs doing a super job. Folks are warm, dry and fed. That’s more than enough. Beaufort and Morehead City Police Departments are patrolling constantly, looking for people stranded inland and delivering food and water until the Red Cross can take over.” Overman answered. “News helos are still lending aid.”

“The economy might not go down the toilet as much as expected. The waiters and souvenir sellers may be repairing roofs and framing houses next week. I think we’ll see new cash flow going to tradesmen, the hardware and housewares stores instead of the surf and gift shops. Fishermen can sell to outlets further inland for better prices and return with less expensive fresh produce and dry goods from Piedmont wholesalers.” Phil suggested. “Milden Hardware, Mel’s Marina, The Otways and others like them will probably hire staff to handle the extra business. People will see commerce shift to another sector and adapt as always.”

Phil glanced back at his boat. Guardsmen and Marines were swarming all over it, admiring the armaments and amenities. The outboards were a crowd favorite. Motorheads were the same everywhere. Several of his girls acted as guides and escorts for the guests. April and May talked to the repair crew from LeJeune about the minimal damage. They appeared to come to an agreement as the Marines began using dent pullers and paint to gussy up the hull.

A crew came through the crowd with heavy hand trucks. Nick saw them and whispered to Phil. “Hellfire missiles. Don’t use them unless you have to. I’ll give you our improved version and retrofit those. We’ll trade at the island.”

“Cool. Looks like we’re getting more ammo and RPGs, too. I loves me some free heavy weapons.” He also saw some rather large Marines and Guardsmen laughing and making fun of the smallest girls. “This will not end well. Excuse me gentlemen. Time to get the challenge out of the way before Willy shoots somebody.”

Nick and Blake both raised eyebrows.

“Captain Hardcastle and I came up with a way to cure some macho testosterone poisoning affecting some of the regular crew. Seems some people think we are nothing more than a bunch of spoiled rich kids. The girls and I agreed to hold a brief clinic to convince them otherwise.” He grinned, “We will try not to hurt them too much.”

Nick and the Sheriff laughed and agreed to act as bookies.

He trotted to the side of the ‘Darling’, calling out, “Ladies and gentlemen, I believe Captain Hardcastle promised us a little demonstration and comparison of our relative combat skills. Let’s take this to the lawn and see who does the best work. Men, please prepare to defend yourselves. Ladies show the armorers and shipwrights where to get started and meet out on the grass at the end of the pier.”

Connor and Crazyhorse joined the group on the lawn. “The XO and I have decided to grant 7 days leave to any Guardsmen who overcomes one of Swenson’s little girls. If you lose, the barnacles need to be removed from the ‘Huron’.”

Gomez made an offer to the leathernecks. “I’ve been authorized by the Commandant offer a similar reward to the Marines, but losers will be very familiar with toothbrushes and latrines.” He smiled grimly, “We need up to 12 or more of the largest and best to face Captain Swenson and the 7 smallest spoiled rich girls.”

The apparent numerical imbalance should have been a signal to the men that Hardcastle and Gomez had more faith in the girls. Instead, they thought their fellow servicemen were putting in the fix. The girls and Phil simply smiled cheerfully. That should have been a second hint.

“Captain, please. At least give them a chance.” One man said to the hoots of his fellow Coasties.

“Seaman. I’m giving you a chance. Take it and be happy.”

“I am Chief Nick St. John of Singer Security. Sheriff Overman and I will be accepting friendly wagers from all interested parties. I will ask my sister Nicole to record the wagers and odds offered by the players. Step up and place your bets now while the opponents prepare this little training exercise.”

Gamblers immediately surrounded the bookies. Townspeople tended to favor the girls slightly or not place bets. Tourists and military types were betting heavily on the uniforms. A lot of money was shown. At the end of betting, on average the men were favored 8 to 1.

“When Swenson’s crew wins, it will certainly help my local economy.” Overman laughed heartily. “Phil was right. A little redirected cash flow is a good thing.”

“Lt. Gomez and I will be referees and will be assisted by Patrol Chief Archie Taverner, Auggie Neal, Master Ed Norton and Ollie Quinn. When we determine a participant to be defeated, we will tap your shoulder. If you do not yield, your opponent is free to end the contest by any means they chose. If a participant is double-teamed, that person is free to disable any and all opponents.” Hardcastle detailed the rules of engagement.

“No weapons. Use of intentionally lethal blows is forbidden. As in real combat, the scenario is melee fighting. The men will attack first in the first match. I strongly suggest that everyone go full speed. Do not underestimate an unknown enemy. The winning team will be the group with the most still standing. Are we clear?”

Some guy spoke up. “Twelve of us are ready. We’ll try not to hurt them too bad. We are clear on the rules.”

Phil spoke for the Devil Girls, “OK by us. It is plain to see some of us will be outnumbered. But at twelve to eight, the odds seem fair enough.” That just pissed off the men and they advanced to encircle the closely packed girls.

May grinned and giggled. April elbowed her, saying, “Be nice. It isn’t polite to mock people. Mom taught us better than that.” None of the eight looked remotely worried as the men closed in. “OK. Don’t be nice.”

Sara taunted the men. “Jeez, guys, bring it on. I’m hungry. Let’s get this over with. Attack already.”

The guys finally charged, intending to overwhelm by intimidation and force. They needed more and better guys.

The whole contest lasted less than fifteen seconds. Phil noticed how unaware the girls were of the difference between their desert boots and practice slippers. Every kick either dislocated or fractured the target. Suddenly ‘appearing’ close and personal next to his enemy, he used speed, his hands and elbows. The guys were down before they knew they were hit. SuLing, leaping high, delivered a double forehead kick to two guys at once, yelling “Outnumbered!” as they took a nap on the lawn.

She watched Connie and Bonnie nearly cripple two Marines so confused they didn’t remember to yield. They escaped with dislocated shoulders and extensive bruises. Several of the others weren’t so lucky.

Sherry and Belle surveyed the carnage when the ninjas bowed and stepped back. “We need some EMTs here, stat.” Sherry shouted. “Nothing potentially fatal, but lots of dysfunctional joints, some probable fractures and those four night have concussions behind the cranial boot prints.”

“Captain Hardcastle and Lt. Gomez. I’m sorry to report the barnacles and toothbrushes will have to wait a few days. These men are in no condition to do anything except recuperate “ Ensign Barton said. “Honestly, sirs, they fared better than I would have guessed against extremely intelligent people who have trained from the crib in the martial arts. The girls and Phil did not appear worried because they weren’t. Word is they faced dozens of armed terrorists who wanted them dead here in town. We’re talking close quarters fighting leaving no enemy standing and coming out without a scratch.”

“I got shot!” Emily complained. “That counts as a scratch, doesn’t it?”

Christy, the Candy Striper, confirmed. “Sirs, I was there and that is no exaggeration. More than fifty of the bad guys went to the morgue that morning. The girls and Phil accounted for at least two thirds of them. Ask the Sheriff.”

Phil squatted in the midst of the hurting men. “Sorry, guys. I thought you knew how good my girls are. The ones we don’t call urban guerillas, tacticians and snipers, we call our little ninjas.” He became serious. “They never brag and would rather play than fight. But they do not like to be disrespected. I do not like it and I will not tolerate it. Ever, from anyone. No exceptions.”

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