Epilogue

“First, I want to thank you for trusting us,” stated Michael - deputy US marshal and governor designee of the newly created Harrad Colony. “Katie told Eva Mae of our dual status, and now we need to plan.”

Michael was sitting with almost his entire clan - sponsors, sister-wives, companions, and dependents over twelve-years old. They were meeting with the newly extracted Bob White Covey, including their concubines and older dependents. It was late, and the kiddies of both clans were in bed asleep.

He pointed to a man wearing jeans and a Stetson hat and introduced him, “You haven’t met Randy Pope, here. He’s transitioning out of his role as head of the US marshal’s special operations taskforce and into our colony’s grand poobah of security. A little while ago, Randy met with your two judges and sheriff, and they’ve agreed to be extracted.”

Randy stood and told the assembly, “You were more than right to hold out for their extraction. These are some really sharp, principled people, and Harrad will be very lucky to have them!”

“Anyway, while they are choosing and assembling their prepacks, we’re going to put together a sting - something that Michael’s harem is more than able to plan and execute.” He nodded in their direction.

Cassandra Anne shushed the murmurings of her bevy of soon-to-be concubines. Intensely focused, she smacked Steven’s hand when he tried to reach into her panties and gave Randy her undivided attention. She’d heard many a tale about her family and knew this was going to be more interesting than a simple orgasm.

“Sheriff Joe Bob is convinced that the white slavery operation that you folks stumbled onto is alive and well. For the most part, he and your two judges have been able to keep them at bay in their county, but the surrounding counties and the major metro areas continue to have more disappearances than can be explained - especially orphans and runaways. He says he’s seen indications that whoever runs the operations has decided to move back into his area.”

He paused for effect, then continued, “Now the problem has stepped up several notches, and indications are that overt criminal elements have co-opted groups of Earth Firsters and use them to kidnap and ‘train’ youngsters for their brothels or for sale to perverts. They pay well, and using the Firsters minimizes their own profiles and risks.”

“The GBI thinks they have identified a reliable informant - a Firster’s wife who is horrified by her husband’s pedophile nature and criminal activities. She says that he hasn’t molested their children, but she fears that he will soon.” He stopped and looked at Dora, hovering behind Michael, “They believe her, but if you’ll sit in on one of her interviews, we’d know for sure if she is telling the truth and have a better feel for her accuracy.”

“THE Harem and my department haven’t visited any Hell on Georgia’s Firsters, and they are getting bolder - cockier.” He grimaced and told them, “Time for that to change.”

“Mae Bell, the informant, confirmed what the GBI suspected. The organized crime bosses are located in New Jersey where the GBI has no jurisdiction. Joe Bob recommended that they contact the US marshals for cross-jurisdictional assistance. Our door is open - wide open!” He elaborated, “Joe Bob has known the GBI’s director for years - worked on gang violence together. He says his friend isn’t particularly worried about who gets credit. He just wants to permanently remove as many assholes as possible out of his state.”

Randy looked at the Covey, “As you well know, Joe Bob is no dummy, not by a long shot. When I approached him and we began talking, he asked if there were a way to get the Confederacy involved. After I got the non-disclosure thing re-taken care of, I suggested that if there was Firster interference with an extraction that would take care of a chunk of the Firster element and save Georgia a lot of trial expenses. Job Bob called his director friend, and we’re in!”

An order for prime teen pussy and cock came down from the Yankees in New Jersey. Lots of prime. As much as could be rounded up. Another order for a gaggle of under-six children came the following day. The Firster organization had been watching a teen residential facility in mid-Georgia and a children’s shelter near Georgia Tech in Atlanta. They decided to stage two fake Confederacy extractions, the date to be specified by their big shots up North.

The crime bosses had organized a ‘meat market’ and were showing off in force. Potential buyers were invited to a large auditorium using the guise of an invitation-only collectibles auction. Buyers were warmly greeted by tuxedo-garbed big shots smoking smuggled Cuban Cigars and drinking flutes of Champagne from Jeroboams sitting in huge buckets of ice.

Multiple high definition screens were arranged in an arc before some two hundred easy chairs. On these screens were projections from cameras that were worn by the Firsters raiding the two facilities, and bidders could use laser pointers to select ‘merchandise’ and make offers. They were encouraged to bid on the adult women as well.

Any child or woman without a bid would be offered free to the Firsters for their own fun and games. Any male adult was to be killed as ‘evidence’ of Confederacy duplicity. This approach had an eerie resemblance to an earlier operation raided by Michael’s teams.

Because they were untrained in the harem’s tactics and communications, members of the Covey had been denied permission for on-ground participation. The morning came, and the Covey was sitting on the edge of their chairs watching images from the cameras carried by Dora’s multiple drones. Katie, Ginger, and Carole, who were staffing the on-board operations center, provided running commentaries on the action.

Katie explained, “The orphanage’s isolated location gives us a real advantage. Katie’s drone dropped several portals after lights out, and we evacuated the on-site staff and residents. Our own teens and pre-teens are helping care for the residents as we speak. We’ll sort out the extraction issues once the operation is over.”

She pointed to the largest screen and said aloud, “Dora, please bring up the dining hall.” A busy breakfast scene, accompanied by appropriate sounds, filled the screen. “Holograms,” Katie explained. “They’re visible through the windows as well as from inside.”

Suddenly, fifteen men in imitation Confederacy uniforms and carrying heavy arms burst into the room yelling, “Confederacy pickup.” They weren’t especially convincing, as there was no gray interdiction field, and they ranged in size from short and skinny to almost morbidly obese. They stopped, bewildered, when the figures ignored them and continued with their breakfasts and conversations.

Then a gray field surrounded them and Michael, flanked by First Sergeant Patti Paiwonski and Ensign Peter Lapin, appeared at the far end of the dining hall. “Sorry folks, the real extraction occurred last night. You may or may not know - doesn’t matter - impersonating a Confederacy Marine carries an immediate death sentence. We can do it now, or you can volunteer for the Jackass Company and fight the Sa’arm. No guarantees, but you’ll probably live a tad longer...”

When a Firster raised his weapon, stingers began buzzing from the direction of the Marines at their rear.

The scene switched. Outside the building, waiting Firsters watched in horror as the interdiction field materialized. “Watch this,” Dora told the avidly watching audience. “Naomi’s pregnant as is Danni, but Naomi was the one really pissed that she couldn’t go down and kick ass. Sooo, we gave her the trigger for the stingers mounted on my drones. She’s going hunting.”

The large screen split. In the upper corner a gleeful Naomi was pictured with a joystick in each hand. “She’s totally ambidextrous,” Dora explained, as the rest of the screen showed drone-camera-views of fleeing Firsters. “There are twenty-two Firsters out there surrounded by a combined team of Marines and US marshals. They all voted to let Naomi have her Easter egg hunt.”