Chapter 528: Why Do I Have To Apologize?

At least he wants me to screw babies into any girl and woman in his family that can bear them for a valid reason. What Skylar said about how important I am to these elite families is making more sense now.

I had made the call via my implant, so Skylar hadn’t heard any of that conversation.

“You know, I’ve overheard some of the heads of families talking about you, and some asked me directly,” Skylar continued. “The women want to know if you are as good in bed as they heard. Men have asked if you produced strong, healthy, and intelligent children. Our children aren’t April, but they seem to meet the expected milestones we use to judge the other children in the family at that age. We haven’t seen any indications of Autism, Down’s Syndrome, or motor control issues. You already know that they rarely get sick, if at all. The heads of families won’t tell you that while having healthy children is of great importance to them, it isn’t the main reason they love you, David. They know you will take their family in if something happens to them. There are no strings. You’ve treated Corwin, Mary, and me like family. Unlike all of us in these elite families, you don’t have an agenda. As far as I know, you don’t need the money and could care less about acquiring their business assets.”

That isn’t what I thought, but mom would be delighted to hear how these elites feel about me.

Skylar said, “It is also why the elites diligently ensure you and your family are safe and protected. Do you realize that Chrissy’s funeral is the only time that all the heads of families, and their families, were in the same place simultaneously and not on the annual spring vacation? We had no cease-fire. One missile could have wiped out many of the elite families in one fell swoop. I do not doubt that various world governments discussed that fact. I think you scared the hell out of them, and they didn’t want to risk even the slightest chance that you would walk away unscathed from such an attack. Corwin said these governments didn’t even want to consider the fallout if they launched an attack and it failed to kill you.”

Yeah. I can see why that would scare the world’s governments. Killing my family at the funeral for Chrissy is likely to make me step over that line regarding me not killing someone. If they took all those I love from me, would I go way over the line and exterminate the entire human race?

Skylar kicked us out in the morning, saying that I was too distracting to her. Rosie had nearly all the men and boys looking over their shoulders and most of the girls and younger women. Some tried to treat her like a commoner-nobody and wanted to use her to satisfy their needs. All those worried about Rosie doing something to them were jumpy, causing all manners of problems.

I’m sure the staff is gladly helping Rosie get her points across. How did she even manage to worry the psychopaths and sociopaths?

We flew to a small airport a few hours away and took a bus to the commercial airport to return to the United States and Hawaii. I didn’t question it when I got the message that it was a dog and pony show. Rosie, Ariba, and Ellen had man-in-the-machine passports waiting for them when we arrived. The woman looking at them called over a supervisor. The girls didn’t have any stamps at all on their passports.

I had gone through first, so I was near the next person who got called over to look at the passports.

In his language, I whispered, “I suggest you run them through the system for validation before it causes any embarrassment.”

He turned to look at me, asked for my passport, looked at it, scanned it with some device, and waited on the response.

“Thanks for allowing me to intervene and reinforce the correct procedure,” he replied.

I see there is now an even better form of a black-ops passport out.

Bart and Tee went through the next station over without a problem and were waiting off to the side a bit for the girls to finish. The girls still had to let the people go through their bags, but I think that was a delay tactic.

“I hope you have cameras on the people searching the girl’s bags. They won’t get the reaction from the girls they expect when pulling out the things they saw on the x-ray,” I told him.

He chuckled and said, “Oh, I didn’t do it to embarrass the girls. I did it to embarrass the men doing the bag search. They don’t know what they are about to find. Both are apprenticing and only fifteen.”

Now that is hilarious.

There is nothing like seeing a teenage guy with no idea about sex toys pull out a clit massager and then ask the girl what it was, how she uses it, and why she has it.

“My staff is not going to live down not scanning the passports before looking at the pages for stamps after doing picture verification,” he told me. “The computer has a note with your picture saying that you have our ruler’s cell phone number, and you would call them to find out why we are questioning your daughter’s or sister’s passports. The transportation director has a note below where he vouches for your siblings and daughters. We can call him with any questions. I’m sure as hell not about to call and disturb him to ask about someone already noted by the leader of our country not to question.”

A female supervisor was behind the boys learning how to search luggage. When the boys found the girl’s clit massager and Ellen’s best friend, the woman had to fight not to laugh. They were over in a place with screens on three sides to keep people looking in as they walked by. When the guy searching Ellen’s bag asked her where and how she used it, she put her foot on a chair, pulled her shorts and panties to the side, and slid it back into where she was using the toy before getting to the airport.

A button push had it start vibrating inside her and against her clit. It didn’t take Ellen long to get off. It never does with that model. Karen came to our house to do the design work in Ellen’s room with eleven girls from the private middle school. Ellen turned it off, pulled it out, and handed the slimy toy back to the guy asking about it. When the smell of her pussy juices hit him, his face turned red, and he came in his pants.

The woman supervisor couldn’t contain her laughter any longer. She dismissed the two guys. The woman asked Ellen where to buy one of them. Ellen gave her a business card for the company where Karen engineered sex toys. It had a web address that would take the woman to the page, showing her how to measure and explore herself for a custom-designed model.

I watched Ellen have the woman move to face Ellen in the corner where no one could see. She did something under the woman’s skirt and gave the woman a small remote. I managed to get over there in time to catch the woman a second after she pressed the button on the remote.

Ellen looked at me and said, “Prototype panty-pad-pal. It absorbed and deodorized her pussy juices when she came. Karen said it uses a new technique to take the edge off almost instantly but takes a while to recharge the part it uses to make it happen. The batteries in the demo ones only have the power to get a woman off three times.”

I sat the woman down in a chair, and our group rushed to catch our flight. We were in first class, so they waited for us. I apologized for getting held up in the security lines.

Why am I apologizing for something that was the airport’s fault?

We had a ten-and-a-half-hour flight, so I kicked back to watch a movie on my headrest. I picked on the sounds of a kid, or kids, starting to freak out about being on the plane. I was about to get up when I saw Ellen carrying a boy about ten and Tee holding a girl’s hand who looked about his age.

The first-class seats looked designed for double-belters to fly comfortably, so there was plenty of room for two kids per seat and not to squish into them.

A young woman, who must be their older sister, came running up, looking distraught. Her eyes were darting around, looking for the two kids, as she started having a panic attack. She found her sister and tried to pull the girl out of the seat. Tee kept the younger girl calm down as she resisted her sister.

The boy in Ellen’s lap kept biting the young woman until she stopped trying to get him from Ellen.

I went over where soundless tears ran down her panicked face.

I pulled up the Molly Speaks app, held it facing the young woman, and swiped across the screen until the woman’s face lit up. She reached up to snatch my phone and then recoiled back from me when it hit her what she was doing. I held it out to her, and I could see she wanted to take it but was scared shitless at the same time. Finally, I set it on the empty seat near her and moved away from her. I ensured I was far enough back that she didn’t have to worry about me trying to grab her.

She flicked her finger over the phone and went to hand it back to me but then jerked back away. When she finally calmed down, she put the phone on the same empty seat and moved away. There was a mini-novel there for me to read.

I found that she was traveling with her brother and sister. She didn’t say it specifically, but I gathered that they were running away from something. Her brother, at least, didn’t seem to like her dragging him off with her. It was her sister that worried her the most. The girl didn’t like being close to her brother. Here the girl was cowering as far from her big sister as she could and using Tee as a human shield. This woman was freaking out. I could see her starting to shut down mentally and zone out.

Bart came up behind her and reached down to put her hands over his. This young woman melted back against him, and she pulled his hands on her small tits. He guided her over toward his seat. Like her siblings, she was soon at peace as long as Bart held her. I found her and her siblings now empty seats. Each had a backpack stuffed under the seat in front of them, and it didn’t take a lot of looking to find the duffle bag filled with kids’ toys, meds, food, and a change of clothes. Their backpacks had another change of clothes, some books, and a big wad of Euros stuffed inside a make-up bag.

I moved their duffle bag into the overhead compartment above Bart. I gave the boy and girl the backpacks before going to the older sister. She tried to get as far from me as possible, which wasn’t far because she was already pushed against the bulkhead. I ignored her, handed her backpack to Bart, and then told him to use his Molly app to find out what was happening with the kids. The girl stayed freaked out until I moved away.

I went into the galley to speak with the flight attendants. I explained that I thought the kids were running from something or the older girl was running and dragging along her siblings. All three had varying degrees of Autism and possibly other mental conditions. They at least had passports and tickets to get on the plane. I didn’t want to involve air marshals, but I asked if they could see if the kids got on at the airport where I boarded or had a connecting flight. They didn’t want to do anything for me until I showed them my U.S. Child Services badge. After discovering who I was and about my foster care complexes, they gladly helped.

The best they could find, these kids changed to this flight after flying from France. I used that flight number to see that they weren’t on that plane using the names on their tickets for this flight. Two girls and a boy matching their description were on that French plane and deplaned at the airport where I boarded. They had multiple passports and did an admiral job of keeping under the radar of those that didn’t have access to the video from every security, bank, doorbell, and cellphone camera in the world. I tracked them back to their home.

Fuck! Mary gave them the passports, stacks of Euros, and plane tickets two days ago.

I thought it through, and things began to make sense. Ellen still exudes that alpha female vibe. That little boy picked up on it. Puberty kicked in some early mothering instincts that he must sense she would protect him.

The younger girl knows Tee, and his older sister knows Bart. They have known them for a while.

I got the young woman one of the mini bottles of Vodka and fished through their duffle bag to get to the pills carefully hidden away in a place that made them appear part of the decorative buttons. Faster than she could react, I had a tablet in the back of her mouth and the bottle of Vodka chasing it. As I expected, she drank the Vodka down like water. When she realized what had happened, she started to freak out again. Before she could begin to fight to get away from me, I pulled up the video of her with Mary two days ago.

I found one that showed me with Mary, Skylar, Corwin, Camden, Tee, Dee, Bart, Bambi, and Chrissy. I was holding a much smaller Dee. That didn’t seem to be any comfort to her. Seeing April in my arms wearing her scrubs after I delivered my seven babies did register. I didn’t know why until she pulled out a picture of her brother, sister, this young woman, Mary, April, and me.

I was holding my newborns.

It took a few seconds for me to get the video, but I showed the bastard slowly dying in his panic room after killing everyone in his household when the bombs he put inside all those people went off. Well, he’s killing all but three. This time she didn’t flinch when I got in close enough to pull her shirt and bra up long enough to see that she did have a recent incision in the same place as all those who got the bombs put inside her. I checked, and both her siblings had them as well. Someone hastily closed it with staples around when Mary got them on a plane away from there.

I gave the flight attendants as many details as they needed to know that these kids were running from a sadistic bastard. When I checked the kids, one of the flight attendants saw the three matching stapled scars on the siblings. All three needed food to take their antibiotics and pain medicine. They hadn’t been taking any of their daily meds because it made the pain worse when taken with the pain pills.

The two younger ones got a cup of soup. They were nonverbal but able to communicate well without needing to speak. Once their older sister’s antianxiety medicine kicked in, she let me sit with her and talk. Bart wasn’t far away but couldn’t hear what this young woman and I discussed.

“Thema,” she wrote out using my Molly Speaks app. “That is what they called me. I don’t think it is my name as much as a personal insult. My brother, sister, and I got the first of the bombs inside us. My father considered the three of us a curse for him loving his sister’s adopted daughter. He had a bomb trigger specifically for us. We didn’t have any of the poisons, only highly compact, ultra-high explosives. Each of us had enough inside us to take out a quarter of a city block. He wanted our bones, blood, and guts splattered all over as he killed as many as possible when he blew us up. My brother and sister won’t understand yet, and I couldn’t tell them until we got safe. I tried to keep them groggy to help with the pain. I fell asleep, forgot to give them their next pill, and then we took off. We didn’t have time to get put to sleep, so I held them down while the doctors took the bombs out of them after I had the one removed from me. These doctors weren’t any I had ever seen around my house. The same people gave us the new papers and plane tickets before taking us to Mary. She gave me this picture and said she would get you to us. You are too big and fast. The patterns I could read on your phone. I got scared. I know Bart’s touch, and he helped me feel safe. The girl holding my brother I don’t know, and she scares me.”

I held the phone out to see if she had anything else she wanted to tell me.

When she didn’t, I told her, “Your brother is safe. He is with my daughter Ellen. She is Tee and Dee’s friend. Anyone trying to get to your little brother will wish they hadn’t. She won’t let anything happen to him.”

I told her how everyone else living in her father’s household was dead because he blew them up when he couldn’t hold the dead man’s detonator handle closed. That bastard tried to hide out in his panic room. He didn’t plan for radiation or the intense heat. They are free of him now. Only Mary and the doctors knew these three were still alive.

No wonder Skylar rushed us out this morning. We had a plane to catch, and she couldn’t tell me in advance.

I drugged Thema with her pain medication and used alcohol to intensify the effects without causing her anxiety to spike while she rested.

I found gauze, antibiotic ointment, and waterproof surgical dressings in their duffle bag.

I took the boy from Ellen’s arms and got him into the handicapped bathroom. As I cleaned up around the staples and incision, I used the place in my head to pull the cells back together. Only the top five layers of skin remained unhealed and held together by the staples. He looked at it in the mirror and then turned to hug me tightly. I got him bandaged up and then did the same for his sister.

She had me massage her sore chest from where her small half-lemon breasts ached. The girl pulled down the front of her shorts and panties to show me she had an almost full bush of pussy hair.

“I’m not a little girl,” she wrote, in her native language, on the mirror with soap.

I hugged her and told her, “No, you’re not, but you will get to be when I take you to where you will be safe from the rest of your elite family. You’re the same age as Dee, Tee, Ariba, Ellen, Crimilda, and Rosie. No one where I live thinks something is wrong if a twelve or thirteen-year-old girl isn’t married with a child on the way.”

She hugged me and cried for a few minutes.

The bathroom wasn’t big enough to take the older sister, so the flight attendants let me take her into the galley to get her incision cleaned up and covered with the surgical dressing. Once I got her back beside Bart, the flight attendants demanded to know what the fuck was going on.