Chapter 6: The Opposite of Smooth

The droning engines slowed a bit as the plane hit cruising altitude. Harvey piloted the plane much as he had driven the van: focused intently on his task and largely ignoring his passengers. Holly sat in the copilot seat, largely obscured from Gene's view. Tamara shot him weary, concerned glances, but they'd sat in silence throughout, stunned, unable to communicate their fears and their questions.

Lauren was resting against the sideboard, her eyes peering out the window, her arm held over her stomach. The boys were sitting across from him, facing backwards, uncertainty on their faces. Gene felt afraid, and he needed answers.

He moved up to the cockpit and sank onto his knees. "Holly. What in the fuck is going on?"

"I'm playing with myself, isn't that obvious?"

Gene hadn't noticed, too concerned for the safety of his family, the chaotic flight that had taken them from the safety and security of their home to 30,000 feet in the air in a matter of hours. Gene's eyes shot momentarily to where Holly's hand moved under her jeans, slow motions of her hips rocking with her obscured fingers. Harvey seemed oblivious to the masturbating nineteen-year old nearby.

"Holly. What the fuck! Stop it! My family is back there, my kids!"

"Lighten up, Gene. I'm sure they all do it." He cast her an angry glance. "Fine." Holly withdrew her fingers. They were wet, sticky. She sniffed them, smiled, swept them under Gene's nose.

He inhaled instinctively before slapping her hand away. "Goddammit, Holly." Her scent lingered in his nose, light, florally, sweaty, briny, pleasantly fishy. Gene forced thoughts of Holly's pussy away, said, "tell me what the fuck is going on."

Holly sat upright, exhaled, looked toward the rear of the cabin. "How much does she know ... about Mason Shay."

"Nothing." Gene's reply was automatic.

"Thought not. She's gonna find out. Up to you how. 'Mason Shay' is why they're after you. Your connection to Whitehead drew them."

Gene said nothing, stewing, that part of his life had been so carefully concealed and left behind.

"Charles Utah and Kittymooner are dead, Gene."

The names brought memories he hadn't thought about in many years. Most were unwelcome.

Holly watched his reaction, showed no expression, continued, "Jaxson is in hiding, and Poppy is at the safe house. We don't know anything about Viceroy or LitaJane. No one knows where they are."

Gene fought for breath, weariness hitting him heavily. The names registered deep, long-lost reminders of the life he'd known years before. "How do you know all this?"

Holly smiled tightly. "It's what I do, Gene."

"Please ... who are you? Who do you work for? Why have you been watching me?"

Holly glanced once more to the back of the cabin, said quietly, "I'll tell you what I can."

"Talk."

Holly leaned back a moment, swung her legs over to one side, turned her torso toward Gene and leaned forward, face close to his. Gene smelled her spicy perfume as she began speaking quietly. "Marker 1."

"Marker 1?"

"Doesn't ring a bell? Guess you'd left Whitehead before M1 formed. Marker 1 is an international watchdog, a ... carefully hidden watchdog. We watch the watchers who are watching the watchers. CIA, Mossad, Chinese MSS, we keep an eye on them and more."

"For who?"

"For ourselves, Gene. M1 formed out of the rise in state-sponsored cutting-edge intelligence gathering, which also coincided with the rise of autonomous groups of revolutionaries, global anarchists, religious fundamentalism, and the development of technology-based warfare. We put our fingers on all the pulses, and we occasionally get involved if we feel the timing is right."

"Involved."

"Assassinations, hacking, rescues."

"Fucking James Bond, are you? Fucking Justice League?"

"Yes and no. We're mostly hands off, ourselves autonomous, state-less, and until last week, largely unknown to even the most sophisticated intelligence networks. We were compromised by No Limit, and when they found out we were keeping tabs on the founding partners of Whitehead, they launched the opening salvo in the war they've been planning for a long time."

"War. Look ... Whitehead ... Whitehead is behind me. I knew Utah was going to keep going with it, I expected him to eventually get himself killed ... but ... Jesus, Holly. They know everything about Whitehead?"

"Enough. No Limits tried for years to find you and the others. Your second lives were pretty isolated from who you really were. But they know what you were up to, and I think you know why they want you dead."

Gene was silent, shook his head, "no. No, I don't know why. There were a lot of ... situations ... that were sketchy, dangerous, might have gotten people killed..."

"Did get people killed, Gene."

"Fine. But ... we had hands in a lot of pots, and some groups were sticking their hands in ours. That's why I got out. I had a family, couldn't risk anything more. I never knew it would blow up like it did."

"No one ever knows. But you were on to something, right before you left. Something that No Limits doesn't want known. I'm not sure what it is, but I think you do."

"Nothing." Gene shook his head again. "Nothing would lead to this, I ... I don't know anything. Nothing. Goddammit, Holly, I ... there's just nothing..." His head hurt, sharp pains radiating through his brain.

Holly watched Gene a moment before replying. "Well, we'll get to that later. Right now, you might as well just relax and get some sleep. We've got a two stops on the way, could get rough."

"Rough?"

"The opposite of smooth." Her hand had drifted back to her crotch, rubbed it lightly.

"Cut it out."

"Come on, Gene, doesn't this all make you horny? My pussy is so wet. Car chases, guns, a starring role on the front lines?" She looked to where Tamara was dozing, Finch leaning into her. "We can pull the curtains, she'll never know if you fucked me."

Gene was the opposite of aroused. "No, Holly. No. The only thing on my mind right now is my family. Promise me you'll help me keep them safe. Promise me."

"I'll do what I can, Gene. I promise you that. Now," her hand slid under the edge of her jeans, down deep between her legs, "if you don't want to watch, you might as well go back and get some sleep. Long days still to go. Mmmm..."

Holly started slowly masturbating, her head back, eyes shut, Gene and Harvey forgotten. The pilot never turned, never seemed to care that Holly was fingering herself a couple of feet away. Gene glanced back for a moment, saw Holly rolling her hips and biting her lip, then stepped back to his family, pulling the privacy curtain closed behind him.

Lauren's eyes felt heavy, sedated. Nothing made sense about that moment, or any of the moments that had followed Holly's arrival at their home. She'd left her phone, her lifeline to the world. Lauren glanced around the cabin. Her mom sat between her dad and Finch, a row ahead of her. The small plane had nine seats, two rows of three facing forward, a third row facing back toward the others. She and Logan were in the last row, the fourteen-year old leaning into her, her arm still around him.

Lauren returned her eyes to the window, let the small, jelly-bean shaped clouds drift across her vision, wondering if she'd ever see her home again. If she'd ever fuck Lance again.

Logan's head rolled back a bit, then he was still. Lauren squeezed his shoulder, an automatic gesture that was as much to reassure herself as it was to comfort her younger brother. The endless greens and browns below the plane made her feel very distant from the world, separate, lost.

Logan shifted again, seemed to be shivering. Lauren started to pull the boy to her when she froze. His hand was in his shorts, moving in small jerks, rapid and stiff.

Logan couldn't help himself. He was scared, worried, feeling like nothing was in control. But the lull of the cabin, the frightening mix of emotions, roused in him the need for release. His little penis had been hard for several minutes before he decided to touch it.

Lauren's arm around him did nothing to slow him down, the warmth of her skin on his making him feel tingly all over. His hand slipped quickly over his cock, not thinking about anything but his climax. Logan tried to be quiet, tried to be still, shook a bit as the burn rose from his little balls.