Black List II: Russian Winter
Chapter 6

Copyright© 2018 by Armera Llsehi

Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 6 - The Goji have stepped into the light and while their intentions remain unclear, they carry on with their plans for the future of the human race. The question is whether or not the Terrestrial Defense Force will be able to put an end to their plans.

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Fiction   Science Fiction   Paranormal   Violence  

“What have we got, Davis?” Doug Wiltkins inquires.

“Not much, sir,” the man replies. “We’ve found traces of C-4 and a few footprints.”

“Tell me about the footprints,” Wiltkins presses.

“Military grade,” Davis says without skipping a beat. “Though, I wouldn’t say American. They are the first to be found at any of the sites so far.”

“Considering that they’re hitting random sites means there I more than one team,” Wiltkins reasons. “Get in touch with the governor of each state in the northwest. Have them call in National Guard. I want road blocks set up at every transport truck crossing into cities containing major renewable power plants.”

“Sir,” Davis says. “May I ask how you know they are using transport trucks?”

“I don’t,” Wiltkins admits. “But we don’t have enough man power to search every vehicle. Besides, these aren’t just men were tracking but Goji.”

“And not all Goji can look human,” Davis reasons.

“Exactly,” the tactical leader agrees. “Now, get to it. Wake up people if you have to.”


“This had better be good enough to wake me up at this hour,” president McKinsey says, stepping into his office.

“Another power plant has been attacked, sir,” the aide replies calmly.

“How many so far?” McKinsey asks, waking up a little bit more.

“This makes number six, sir,” the aide returns.

“Damn it,” the man grunts. “Get Strandon in here.” He watches the aide leave before taking his seat. The country is under attack for the second time since he has been in office now. And for the second time, he has nothing to give the public. He promised that things like this wouldn’t happen again. When Strandon enters nearly a half hour later, the first thing McKinsey says is, “We still have a mole.”

“It’s possible, sir,” Strandon agrees readily. “But we haven’t found any evidence to lead us to one. If you have a theory then I would be glad to listen.”

McKinsey sighs heavily and shakes his head. “It has to be someone in a high position. He or she is doing a good job at hiding their tracks too.”

“If that’s the case, then it will be hard to find him,” Strandon says, not allowing any emotion to betray him. “It may...”

“We are under attack,” McKinsey interrupts, raising his voice. “I want this person found. Do whatever it takes. There are too many lives being lost and too many more at stake.”

“I’ll get started right away then,” Strandon says, ending the conversation. He leaves the office and heads straight out for his car. Detaran wants resources to be used to the max. It is time to take it to the next level then.


Strandon drove into the country. His parents owned a small cottage just outside Fairfax City that was left to him after their deaths. This is his contact station. Being director of the NSA, he knows all the tricks to keeping transmissions off the radar. “Good morning, Commander,” he says over the line.

“Ah, Director Strandon,” Jiang Chi says back with a heavily accented voice. “What can I do for you?”

“It is time to create more havoc,” the man says, jumping right into it. “Focus your net targets on more populated areas. We want to make the populace believe you are getting bolder and threatening their lives.”

“Very well,” Jiang confirms. “However, my contacts tell me of roadblocks to these cities.”

“Yes, I know of them,” Strandon says sounding irritated by the nuisance. “I’ll make some calls that will allow your trucks to pass. Just make sure the logos can be seen clearly.”

“It will be done,” the commander says.

“Very good. I’ll be in touch.” Strandon disconnects, feeling smug. “All this power and just with a few people, humanity can be brought to its knees.


The kidnapped men are brought out of the tent at various times. It is never the same time of day or in any specific order. It is kept random, most likely to keep the men on their toes and to dissuade them from thinking of any escape attempt. Each time one was taken out he was shown maps, diagrams and schematics of a power plant. Sometimes it would be different maps of different parts of the world. Some each man could identify the location, other times it was so enhanced they had no idea where on earth it was. It isn’t until climate conditions being discussed with them do they have some idea about the true purpose of them being there.

“If we are to use Antarctica as out staging point, then we need to know so that we know how to create conditions we can control,” Major Demurer explains.

“I’ve told you before, you can’t control the weather!” Dahlin exclaims. “By trying this, you could upset the delicate balance and have quite the opposite effect that you’re trying to seek.”

“That is not your concern,” the major replies. “If you cannot provide us with the information we seek, we will simply replace you and your family. Now I will ask one last time ... how?”

Dahlin sits there debating his options internally. What Demurer is asking is crazy. He looks around the table to the other scientists sitting there. Not one of the others looks at him to throw their lot in with him. The climatologist is the only one protesting. He was willing to go along with things before knowing exactly what the Russian’s wanted. “I’ll give you whatever information you’ll need, he finally says in a resigned voice.

 
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