Black List III: Rising Tide - Cover

Black List III: Rising Tide

Copyright© 2018 by Armera Llsehi

Chapter 1

Action/Adventure Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Everything has gone from bad to worse. The world is in a crisis as Russia and China work together to gain new territory in a game of hidden truths. The Goji are becoming even more bolder than ever. And just when the people need to be united, they are slowly being torn apart from the inside out.

Caution: This Action/Adventure Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Lesbian   Heterosexual   Fiction   Crime   Military   Science Fiction   Paranormal   Oral Sex   Violence  

“You have to pull some strings or something, boss,” Samantha implores. “He’s been held hostage for two months now.”

“I’m sorry, Sam,” Rogers answers, shaking his head in dismay, “but I am trying as hard as I can.”

“What about the president?” she asks. “He’s the one that has spearheaded what the TDF does.”

“I’ve already asked him. My hands are tied,” Roger retorts. “Pressure is coming down on us and the presidency. NATO won’t sanction America to move against the coalition and since we technically weren’t there, Spencer isn’t there.”

“What the fuck, Roger?” Samantha nearly screams, throwing her hands into the air. “There has to be something that we can do. This is Spencer that we’re talking about.”

Roger sits in his chair, his face grim. Since the invasion into South Africa by the Russian/Chinese coalition and terrorist attacks on America’s power plants, things have only gotten worse. And with Senator David Rustlin rallying against the Terrorist Defense Force, the support it once had from the American people is beginning to sway in the opposite direction. The coalition didn’t take a blow against them when the Russian’s plans, under the influence of Maltaus, were compromised. The whole objective of taking over South Africa and unleashing a frightening winter upon the world was a ruse—a misdirection.

Roger sits reeling in fleeting thoughts about the situation. Every solution he has come up with over the last two months has been shot down before they could even take off. The situation has left many sleepless nights for the man. “I haven’t abandoned Spencer, Sam,” he finally says. “Hell, Doug has offered to go in there himself and bring Spencer out. Unfortunately, we’re being monitored and every move accounted for.” He pauses long enough to let the reality to sink in with Samantha. She stops pacing and sits down onto the couch opposite her boss’ desk. She just sits and stares blankly at the man. “The accusation against us is the main reason for this investigation. Since McKinsey spearheaded the reformation of the TDF, the senate plans a full unbiased investigation asking the president for full authority and him to step aside. He has no other choice but to follow the request.”

Sam blinks, staring at the man with a now startled look on her face. “What accusation?” she asks.

“It’s nothing to be concerned about, since it is untrue,” Roger replies, trying to brush it aside.

“What accusation?” Samantha asks again, this time more forcibly.

Roger sits back with a look of resignation on his face. He knows he can’t continue giving Samantha bullshit excuse or even sidestepping it. He is left with no other choice but the truth. “The incident at the cabin with Donald Strandon and Frank McMillan has left questions.”

“I thought there wasn’t any doubt about your story,” she reasons. “Even the president knew you told the truth and had Strandon arrested.”

“The condemning evidence Strandon left behind didn’t mean shit,” he agrees. “But with the strange attack on his transport and death, it raised a few eyebrows. And then this new senator making a fuss, he has the entire senate curious and wanting to look further into things. And since McKinsey created the open sharing of all the organizations, we are open to provide any and all information we have.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it!” she yells. “Someone is digging to know what we have to fight against us better.”

Samantha’s tolerance for things over the last few months has begun wearing thin. She lost her father, who was the one thing she feared him to be—a traitor. But before his death he saved her life, and in her eyes, redeemed himself. As far as anyone is concerned, he was just like the other kidnapped men. The truth is only known by her, Roger and Alvar Dahlin. Her sister turned out to be on the side of the Goji. And contrary to what Maltaus wanted from Samantha, her sister had a thirst for misguided vengeance. And finally with the loss of Spencer is the breaking point. His capture tore a hole in her heart that she feared wouldn’t close if something did happen to him.

“I know and I’m sorry, Sam,” Roger says in resignation.

“I don’t blame you, boss,” she says. She stands up and slaps the sides of her legs and shrugged, then turned and began to walk out of the office.

Roger instantly recognizes her body language and what it means. “Good luck,” he says.

Samantha stops and turns just enough to look back at him. With a wink she thanks him and then leaves the office. The director knows he doesn’t have to say more. Samantha will find a way to save her partner and the man she loves. All Roger needs to do is provide a cover for her and keep the investigators from asking too many questions.


“Welcome to Morning America and good morning,” Angela Bartow says with a smile.

“Today we have a special guest,” John Walters continues, taking over for his co-host, “Senator David Rustlin.”

The senator, on cue, walks out onto the stage. The audience cheers and claps at the sight of the man. Rustlin smiles and waves in response to the excited crowd. When he reaches the two hosts, he shakes their hands before sitting down.

“Welcome to the show, Senator Rustlin,” Angela says, still smiling.

“It’s good to be here,” the senator replies.

“Let’s jump right into what you have been pushing for,” John says excitedly. “What got you interested with the Terrestrial Defense Force?”

“Well John, the TDF has been a hidden division within the FBI, so it was quite a surprise to everyone when they heard it,” he answers.

“Well, of course the government has its secrets,” Angela remarks. “It’s really not surprising to have an organization such as the TDF fighting these terrorists and these Goji.”

“That is why President McKinsey made it its own entity,” the senator agrees. “The fact that the Goji have been kept secret is not the issue here. The issue is ever since the Goji was announced to the world, problems have begun to arise. First,” he holds up a hand and begins to tick off his fingers, “we have the kidnapping of the president’s daughter and the terrorists somehow knowing details and no one else. Second, strange so called attacks, like the one on the FBI building itself, are happening all too often. Third, these Goji are new, yet old threats that seem to be the cause of world events like what is happening now. Fourth...”

“Let me stop you right there, Senator,” John interrupts. “It sounds like you’re saying that the TDF is behind all of this, like they are the terrorists or that they are the ones that let the Goji out of the cage.”

A smile forms on the senator’s face. This is exactly the response he hoped to get. He hopes that everyone watching feels the same way. “That is exactly what I am saying,” he confirms. “They are responsible for botching their prison facilities of these gargoyle-like things and now they are trying to put blame somewhere else while causing these attacks in hopes the American people are too distract to see it.”

“And this is why you are requesting a formal investigation,” Angela states matter-of-factly.

“That’s correct,” Rustlin says with a nod. “I’ve been asking for the FBI to lead the investigation in the hopes that we get to the bottom of this problem.”

“Why the FBI?” John asks. “Why not the CIA or NSA?”

“Why the FBI?” the senator repeats. “Because they have been the ones to fall under direct attack by these Goji and terrorists. Former director Frank McMillan, as you know, was murdered. The evidence is compelling against Roger Cornelius, the director of the TDF. Yet it has all been dismissed. In my opinion, that is too much of a coincidence, especially since the only other person involved was killed while in custody.”

“Yes, he was killed when leaving the White House,” Angela concurs.

“Is the president considered to be involved at this point?” John questions.

“It is one reason that we asked for him not to be involved if an investigation is made,” Rustlin answers, purposely being vague. “Right now he is not a suspect and I personally hope it stays that way. As long as the president is not involved then anything that could be pointed at him won’t be.” He pauses, catching the questioning look on each of the hosts’ faces and then answering the hanging, unspoken question. “It means that if there is a mole, which seems to be a problem in our agencies, then nothing like evidence tampering can be blamed on our president.”

“Well, it seems you have all your bases covered,” Angela remarks, quickly recovering.

“All your bases belong to us,” the senator remarks. This gets some laughs from the audience, whereas both of the hosts sit again dumbfounded. Rustlin quickly goes right back into conversation mode. “I like to think I can have everything covered. My concern is for the people and this country, which is why with the upcoming elections,” his voice gains a heightened excitement to it, “six months from now, I will be running for the presidency.”

The audience begins to cheer and clap, loudly expressing their excitement.

“Well there you have it,” Angela begins with a bright smile on her face. “Senator David Rustlin will be running for the presidency!”

“It certainly looks like President McKinsey will have a fight for the White House on his hands now,” John says laughing.

“Well, we thank you for coming in today,” Angela says shaking the senator’s hand.

“It was a pleasure,” he replies, taking John’s hand next and shaking it as well.

“Good luck on your campaign,” John offers.


Tsyr Ker sits on the edge of the building on 17th Street and E Street overlooking the White House and the West Wing. She sits with a solemn calm on her face, watching her target. Tsyr Ker isn’t her real name. She chose long ago to forget her real one for one more fitting to her profession.

Of course becoming an assassin wasn’t her dream job nor was it even on her list of professions she wanted as an adult. But circumstances and life have ways of altering the planned course of people’s lives. In her case, she was a young girl, living in the suburbs with a loving family in no need of want. They became the victim of a mob style hit.

Her father was a Federal witness, and because of this, they became the target of revenge. After her parents were slain, she remained the last to alive. Rather than kill her, the Goji, Cephalon, decided to leave her and suffer with the loss of her family. Afterward, she was sent to live with an uncle in China, learning martial arts. She harnessed her own vengeance for many years, dedicating herself to learning and expanding her skills. It in turn served Tsyr Ker enough to seek her revenge against Cephalon. And now it serves her for her current profession as an assassin.

Her target sits across from the president. To any other assassin, this view would be perfect for a sniper’s shot, perhaps if her were here, Crosshairs would have this job and not her. But he’s not and she is, and Tsyr Ker prefers a more personal kill rather than a cowardly one. Her purpose here is to merely watch her target and then when the time permits itself to be the perfect opportunity, Tsyr Ker will strike.


Spencer lies on top of a hard metal bunk, slowly recovering from his latest torture. Electro-shock isn’t a very pleasant experience and no matter how many times Stalokavich used it, Spencer never could get used to it. Except for the few hours he was taken out and tortured, he spent his time in the small narrow cell. The floor is flooded with an inch of water at all times and the air conditioner runs at a constant freezing. He rationalizes it as being a way to discourage him from doing any kind of activities. Not that he would be to do any. He is fed once a day and it is just enough to keep his body’s nutrition levels up. With the daily beatings, he barely has enough energy to think. How long have I been here?

All he really has at this point is his thoughts. It’s regulation to have deniability, but why would Sam?

Samantha is his anchor to continue on and endure each torture and each day. Where are you Sam?

But no matter how strong a person, the mind does begin to wear down. Have you forgotten me Samantha? Please don’t forget me.


“Thank you for coming so quickly and secretly,” President McKinsey says to Roger. He motions to the couch for Roger to have a seat. The TDF director nods and takes a seat. He had arrived through a set of secret tunnels that run under the White House. The tunnels are known only to a handful. Even public knowledge of the tunnels existence has been refuted by the government. “I had to bring you in secret because of the investigation with the TDF and I have been asked not to get involved in any way. I believe you and the rest of your staff are innocent, but with Senator Rustlin causing a stink, my hands are tied.” McKinsey shakes his head. He has an image of defeat on his face.

Roger continues to sit, not speaking. He knows if McKinsey has to pull him in like this, there is a good reason and time is of importance. “I called in a favor to get your agent out of the coalition’s hands.” He sighs. “I’m sorry to say that it has come at a bad time though.” The president paces from the couch to the window and back. He has yet to take a seat himself while he struggles over the matter at hand. He does not like being out of the loop because of some technical bullshit. “The Senate voted to have the FBI oversee the formal investigation and until it is done, all the members of the TDF are to be arrested.”

Roger has a look of shock come over his face. This is an unexpected maneuver and one he is not prepared for. “How can they do this and why haven’t I heard anything about it?” he asks, trying to keep the anger from his tone.

“Even with the bill set to have free information exchange between organizations, the Senate apparently made it a hush-hush thing. I just found out about it shortly before I contacted you,” McKinsey explains.

“I know you didn’t just have me come here to tell me those two things,” Roger surmises with a grin. “So what is it you want me to do?”

“Keep clear one or two of your most trusted so that they won’t be arrested. Give them this.” McKinsey hands him a manila envelope from his desk. It is very light and doesn’t look like it contains anything at all. “Make sure the person you select is the only person that reads it,” he instructs.

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