Chapter 31

EARLY THURSDAY MORNING — OCTOBER 3

"Campbell, heads up! Ingles just told us the computers are rigged," Jones said over the radio. There was a short pause, "Campbell!"

"All clear. All clear," Rogers, the team member assigned to watch over Campbell responded. "He's taken his headset off and can't hear you, but he's fine."

Before the radio conversation was half over, Jeff rounded the bottom of the stairs, grabbed the rail and launched himself, hard. Lieutenant Richardson was right behind Jeff for the first few steps, but taking only three of the stair steps at a time, was rapidly falling behind.

Shit, how does he do that? Richardson thought as Jeff disappeared through the doorway into the den by the time the lieutenant managed the first landing.

Richardson did get to the door of Ingles' office in time to see Jeff glaring at first Campbell, then Rogers, though.

"Major, I didn't know what he was doing for a bit, but he was doing something with that probe there," he said pointing. "He yanked the headset off, saying it was distracting him. Then a little later, said, 'Got it.' A minute or two after that, he removed the two screws from the back and slid the side off the computer case. He took that thing out," he said, this time pointing to something setting on a table in the corner. "He told me not to touch it because it was a charged capacitor. About that time, Jones started yelling on the radio."

Jeff waved the others who had crowded into the doorway back to their jobs.

"What's all the fuss about?" Campbell said. "I know better than to open a system without checking first, at least under these circumstances. I slipped a probe in," he said motioning to a hair-thin wire with a tiny lens on the end, "and could see his crude little surprise. Trivial."

"What the fuck is that?" Lieutenant Richardson said as he stepped closer to look at the big capacitor.

"Don't touch it," Jeff snapped. "Crude, all right, but it could give you a nasty shock and a burn. Might even kill you. Probably came out of an old picture tube type TV. Looks like it has some age on it, but don't let that fool you. Chances are good it can still take a charge."

Jeff looked hard at Campbell.

"I'll discharge it before I put it back in the computer ... uh, Sir," Campbell quickly added the honorific. "Uh, he had it rigged to the disk drive and the side of the computer. Anyone opening the computer in the usual way would get a shock and the drive would be fried at the same time."

"All right. Just be damned careful," Jeff said.

Jeff and the lieutenant turned and walked out of the office. A little way down the hall, both of them heard Rogers snap, "Dammit, you made me look bad in front of the major and the lieutenant. Now put that headset back on and keep it on."

"Had you rather that radio chatter distract me and I get myself shocked by that thing? Those throat mikes make everyone sound weird. I can't work with that crap going in my ear."

"Well, you better learn how, because you're going to wear it from now on. And there hasn't been that much on the radio, anyway. I'm supposed to keep your geek-ass from getting killed. Now I'm in trouble because you didn't answer your radio."

Mumbling, Campbell put his headset back on.

Jeff grinned at Richardson as they paused to listen. "I think that problem just got solved," he quietly said as they resumed walking.

"Yeah, well, Campbell is going to hear of it again when we get back to base."

"Don't be too hard on him. If he wasn't sharp, we would be doing CPR on him right now."

"Yeah, there is that," Richardson sighed.

Jones came back on the radio and reminded everyone that the computers in the lab were similarly rigged. Jeff listened as each member of the team and the techs acknowledged — Campbell among them.

"Put somebody on..." Jeff started to say even as Lieutenant Richardson keyed his mike to assign Collins to make sure no one touched either of the computers in the lab until Campbell could take care of them.

"Murphy has knocked on our door twice," Jeff said with a little grimace.

"Yeah. Maybe somebody will shoot the bastard before he gets in," Richardson said as he chuckled. "And by the way, you ran the fuck off and left my ass on those stairs. How in the hell did you do that? I run every day."

"Fuck," I don't know. "I guess I was scared that Campbell had bought the farm," Jeff replied, sluffing it off.

Richardson looked over at Jeff as they walked through the den on the way to the sub-basement. "We haven't run together in a long time. I wish you were back with us so we could do it again."

"Yeah, that would be fun," Jeff replied as he clapped the lieutenant on the shoulder. "We'll have to do it sometime soon."

"Yeah, sure," Richardson teasingly said as they started down the stairs. "I can just see you leaving seven women behind to come play with us again. Not to say anything about your being rich."

Jeff didn't correct him on the number of women. "Well, it's not that much money. I've got a friend who has so much money he wouldn't even notice what I have," Jeff returned, trying to play down the rich aspect. "Besides, I just lucked up and sold an invention."

Richardson stopped to look at him as they got to the bottom of the stairs. "Respectfully, Sir," he grinned. "You are so full of shit."

Laughing, the two men went back to work.

Fred slid a hand down between Carla's legs, then ran a finger lightly up her slit. At the same time, he gently nipped her right nipple. She flinched.

Wondering, Fred sucked gently on the nipple, then sucked a little harder. Carla flinched again.

Fred pulled back and looked her in the face as she frowned. "I don't know what's wrong. I noticed that my boobs were a little sore this morning. As the day progressed, they seemed to get worse. Now my nipples are really tender."

"You're period fixing to start?" Fred asked.

"No, I'm right in the middle of my cycle. I don't know what's wrong, and they're even more sensitive than usual. The crazy thing is, even with them so tender, I want you to suck my nipples really hard. I mean, I want it even more than ... Oh, heck, I don't know what I mean..." she stumbled to a stop.

"Well, suppose I do this, then," he said as he gently caressed her right breast again, then licked across her swollen nipple.

"Oh, yes," she hissed out as he continued, his hand going down to caress her clit. Shortly, her back arched as the first orgasm hit. It seemed even more intense than usual.

"Ohhh, Baby, ohhhh. It hurts and it feels so good toooo."

Fred gently continued with her right breast for awhile, then changed to her left, wondering. After giving it equal attention, he slid down in the bed as she obediently pulled her legs back a little and opened them. "You smell good," he said as he caressed her labia with the tip of his tongue.

Whatever was wrong with her breasts didn't extend to her pussy. As his tongue attacked her clit, she grabbed the back of his head and slammed her pussy hard against his mouth, hissing out, "Yesssss."

After a while, he mounted her, slowly sliding his cock into her tight pussy. He glanced down at her breasts as they swayed just below his chest. Her nipples seem thicker and longer than I remember. He looked closer as he slid his dick slowly back and forth inside her. Her breasts seem swollen; maybe more rounded than I remember. Were they like that night before last? I can't remember.

He pressed the head of his cock against her womb and slowly rotated his ass. Carla seemed to come unglued. She came, thrashing and screaming as she wrapped her legs around his hips, wiggling her pussy around his cock. Brenda got into the act as Carla orgasmed. Fred locked down on his emotions to keep from coming as he felt Carla's orgasm peak, then Brenda's.

The orgasm finally faded, even as another began to build. He felt Jessica and Audrey caressing his back as his thrusts became harder and faster. Carla screamed into his ear, her nipples moving through the hair on his chest as her breasts swayed beneath him. Suddenly, she began short, hard hunches upward, slamming her groin into his — his cock punishing her womb. The orgasms became continuous as Brenda reflected them back and forth. Fred's cock spurted and seemed to keep on spurting.

A short while later, "You're going to crush her," Jessica said as she and Audrey pushed on his shoulders. Groggily, Fred rolled to his back, his cock still hard, its wetness glistening in the lights of the room as it swayed above his groin.

"Shit," Fed mumbled. "This is going to kill me."

"Not me," Brenda giggled in his mind as she became conscious again. "I'm already dead, remember?" Then, "Sorry about that. I guess the joke is getting old." Fred chuckled anyway.

"Look at Mom's nipples," Jessica exclaimed. "Is that milk?" she asked pointing to a drop of translucent white liquid on each.

Fred turned on his side to lick the closest nipple. "It's sweet," he concluded. "Might be."

Later:

"What's the count?" Jeff said as he motioned to the boxes sitting near the door to the walk-in safe.

"Well, there are a hundred pills to a bottle, and there are two types of drugs. I didn't spend the time to do an exact count, but there are approximately five hundred bottles of each type of drug."

"Major, I need to speak with you for a moment," Lieutenant Fisher said as she walked up.

"Sure," Jeff returned as he followed her to a corner of the lab out of immediate hearing of anyone else.

Fisher looked at her feet for a moment, then her head snapped up to look him in the eyes. "We can't just destroy those drugs. If we cut off the supply from Ingles' pipeline — or whatever the term is — those women who are slaves in Iran, or wherever, will die without the drugs. At least that's what Ingles told Mrs. Madison. Somehow, we have to continue their supply. I can't..."

Jeff sighed. "Yeah, I know. I've already given orders to secure the drugs and take them back with us."

"Sir, I've talked with Mooring — him," she said nodding to a tall, thin man working on the other side of the lab, "the chemist. He found Ingles' notes and logs in the safe. He says that it seems to him that someone else made the initial discoveries about the drugs. He also thinks that this person's notes stopped a couple years ago. Ingles' notes picked up after that. He says that Ingles' work is crude compared to the first person's. Mooring thinks there was a very good research chemist before Ingles. But Ingles continued to experiment after that person dropped out of the picture.

"He thinks that Ingles mostly just produced the drugs, and did very little research, himself, other than testing different doses on the women. Mooring says that anyone with a little chemistry background could be taught to make the drugs, and the machines there," she said pointing, "would press them into pill form. Well one of them, anyway. One type of drug is pressed into pill form, the other is put into capsules by the other machine."

Jeff sighed. "Good work, Lieutenant. I guess I need to talk to Mooring."

"Yes, Sir," Fisher said, returning to her work.

"Doctor Mooring, got a minute?" Jeff said as he approached the chemist. Mooring turned away from the tech he had been talking to, as Jeff continued, "Come take a little walk with me."

Walking into the first room, Mooring following, Jeff took a seat and motioned for the doctor to do the same. Jeff glanced around him at the benches with their stirrups, cuffs hanging from the ceiling on chains, beds with restraining straps, soft recliners, the expensive, large-screen TV on the wall with the video player beneath, two video cameras set up on tripods, several still cameras on a shelf nearby, sex toys lying around ... Tearing his mind away from what had happened to the women in this room, he cleared his throat to get Mooring's attention.

The chemist looked embarrassed for a moment. "Uh, my wife and I have played games a little — at her instigation. But our handcuffs have a button on them that she can press and free herself any time she wants." He looked around himself again. "But this place gives me the creeps. And this room isn't as bad as that one," he said, jerking his thumb toward the door. "They have real torture equipment in there with the cages. That is a very sick ... uh, human being upstairs."

Jeff paused for a second, "I need to know something, Doctor Mooring." At Mooring's nod, Jeff continued. "No bullshit. I don't want you to come back to me two weeks from now and tell me you misjudged, or you were wrong. So think about what I'm going to ask you. Okay?"

When the chemist nodded, "From what I can determine, there's a good chance that the women who Ingles gave these drugs to, will, or have already, become addicted to them — will die without them..."

Mooring interrupted. "From the notes — and by the way, those are very detailed research notes the original chemist took — from the notes, and from the formulas taped to the lab table, one of the drugs is quite similar to one of our truth serums being used on Doctor Ingles right now. Similar — not the same. But if I were to administer the dosage of truth serum that Ingles is receiving now, every day for four days, he would never be the same person again — if he lived at all.

"With the one drug, chances are better than ninety-five percent that what he tells us will be the truth. With the combination of drugs we're giving him, he would rat out his own mother. The combination isn't much harder on the body than the basic truth serum, though." Mooring looked at his watch. "Shortly, he will be getting a booster, which is still safe, but I wouldn't want it done to me. His mind will probably be a little slow, and he might be a bit forgetful for the next couple of days. But there shouldn't be any long-term complications after that.

"But ... from these notes, the other drug that Ingles produced that is not derived from something similar to our truth serum, is much like one of the more powerful mood altering medications on the market today. Similar — it isn't the same. Any slight deviation could cause drastically different results when consumed by a human being."