The Project – Part 14
Written by d_k_c :: [Friday, 30 April 2010 20:53] Last updated by :: [Tuesday, 10 December 2013 19:40]
The Project – Part 14
Ken manned the M2 50 cal. turret in one of the tanks leading the siege on Bogotá. It was hard for him to identify who was civilian and who was hostile. Bullets were constantly pinging off the tank and, although Ken couldn’t always see the attackers, the sound of their AK-74s could be heard continuously throughout the city.
A rocket, fired from one of the slums, slammed into the Abrams. It was the fifth time the tank was hit with a rocket, but the armor was more than a match for the small missiles.
The turret turned and the snapping sound of Ken’s .50 was briefly muffled by the sound of the Abrams much larger canon.
Ken watched the small house explode and was amazed that one of the occupants was still alive. He stumbled disorientated out of the remains, bleeding profusely from his ears and mouth, still clinging to his weapon with bloody hands.
Ken turned the .50 toward him and depressed the trigger. The bullets shot through the man, leaving large bloody holes across his body, then his head popped like a grape as one of the rounds blasted through it.
Ken heard the whipping sound of a bullet and the hard clank of metal being struck next to him. He turned the turret quickly and opened fire into a building, forcing the occupants to retreat their attack.
There was smoke billowing from his tank now, undoubtedly from one of the rockets that hit it earlier.
He now grew more and more worried. The chances of surviving were extremely low, if for some reason he had to leave the tank.
Every inch deeper into the city was met with more and more resistance. He was aware how large the first wave was. It was massive and all he needed to do was check his left or right to see how much support he had. However, with resistance now reaching intolerable levels, he couldn’t help but wonder why another front was not being opened up by the other regiments. If anything, just to relieve the pressure that was coming down on the first wave.
Ken turned his .50 on a large group of people running across the street. They were already getting hammered with tracer fire from another tank on their left, when Ken opened up on the group. A dozen bodies dropped to the stony ground in a bloody heap.
Ken continued firing into a structure where some had fled. He tried to ignore the hollow crunching sounds of the bones the Abrams made driving over those he had just shot.
The large canon of the Abrams boomed again, this time blowing up a small building eighty meters up the road.
Ken turned his 50 toward its debris and waited for the smoke to clear. His eyes focused on a lone figure moving toward the tank. With smoke still not cleared, he targeted the figure and opened fire. It was a 3 second burst and, when the smoke cleared, he could see the woman still walking toward his tank.
All around her, the ground was chalked up and smoldering from the massive rounds and Ken couldn’t help but thinking that she was the luckiest person alive to avoid so many rounds. He watched her walk casually closer to the tank and he held his fire.
He had never seen a girl so much beautiful. Her outfit was so tight and so revealing. Her legs were long, silky and smooth, emphasized by her black knee high boots. Her stomach was like a washboard, revealing her sexy feminine abs and cute belly button. She had long black hair and an exotic face, deadly eyes and perfect lips. And her breasts were indescribable. They just looked simply too good, too proportioned, too round and impossibly firm. So firm that he couldn’t help but wonder how her shiny blue shirt was containing their vastness without succumbing and tearing down the middle.
He thought briefly about allowing her to live, but the unfortunate fact was that anyone walking toward a tank column – which left thousands dead in its wake – either wanted to die or deserved to die. The only thing Ken could think of was that she was a suicide bomber, but where the hell would she hide a bomb on a unit that was so incredibly tight. Reluctantly Ken took aim on her and opened fire.
It was a short burst, maybe 6 rounds. She was still coming, he couldn’t have missed.
No, he had no doubt he hit his target and now he had no doubt of whom she was.
Tracer fire from another 50 cut across his line of sight and pounded away at Aleesha’s body from the other tanks.
Ken looked in awe as the destructive rounds ripped apart the pavement around her but just dimpled her perfect flesh. He watched her clenching her fist so tight that a red aura circled it. As she came closer to the tank, he lost sight of her lovely body. He let go of his 50 and took comfort in the fact that there was really nothing he could do now to prevent his demise and that his death would come quickly. It was almost a reward for him after witnessing her body, her power.
She was a Goddess. He had no doubt of that now.
Vojtek sat silently in the chopper, as the Delta unit’s joked and chatted. He looked outside and admired the terrain. It really was beautiful country: green mountains, lush terrain, beautiful scenery. His peaceful thoughts were interrupted by an F-15 that zipped by making the Black Hawk jolt a little.
“Vojtek! Your name is Vojtek.”
Vojtek looked up at the Delta member trying to remember who he was.
“I served with you in Qom. The name’s Kyle, Kyle Mittman.” Kyle leaned forward to shake Vojtek’s hand.
Vojtek had served with many troops in Iran – a war that took more American lives than Afghanistan, Iraq and 9-11 combined. He shook Kyles hand but still had no idea who he was.
“You're all looking here at a legend boys.” Kyle said to the men.
“Is that so?” one of the Delta member’s commented.
Kyle nodded his head, “You're all looking at a man who stormed a heavily armed Iranian fortification single handedly and came out of it without a scratch. How many men would you say you went up against … fifty to a hundred?”
Vojtek smiled and nodded “Something like that.”
“The fuck that happened.” one of the Deltas chuckled.
Although Vojtek still didn’t remember Kyle, he remembered the incident quite well. It wasn’t exactly one of his proudest moments.
“Mind me telling my colleagues here the story?” Kyle asked.
Vojtek gestured for him to go ahead and Kyle began: “We entered Qom without a shot being fired, the city was as quiet as a mouse. Intelligence reports no hostile activity in Qom. Then, fucking 4th of July. We get hit by every civilian in the city. Fuckin 9 year old kids with AK-47s, 60 year old women with RPGs, suicide car bombs you fuckin’ name it.
Our convoy was hit so hard that many of us left our armored units and took off on foot for some cover. Our commanding officer is killed and about 40 of us take cover in a ditch along the side of the road. I’m about 6ft away from yours truly here, who is now the next in command. We’re now getting picked apart from some sniper on one of the buildings, when Vojtek passes the message down to advance to the building in front of us on his signal. So, as the message is being passed down the line, another message is being sent back. A radio transmission from command to sit tight and that help was imminent.
The message is passed down, but Vojtek has already given his signal by advancing. He gets about 15 feet, when he realizes that he’s all by himself.
Fuckin’ windows from the building start breaking and every Iranian in the building is thinking they're seeing a dead American. They unload on him and Vojtek, realizing he’s all by himself, pushes on the breaks, turns around and starts running back.
Dirt is popping up all around him from impacting slugs. They even fire an RPG at his ass and the rest of us isn’t even providing suppression. We’re too mesmerized. This guy is fucking dead we had no doubt of that, we just waited for it to happen.
Vojtek finally gets within around 7 feet. They say white men can’t jump. Well, I’ve never seen a man jump farther. He lands right beside me and just screams at the top his lungs: ‘Jesus FUCK! Did anybody get the Fucking memo?!’.”
The helicopter erupted with laughter.
Kyle’s face still beaming remembering the experience vividly asked Vojtek, “A soldier that served with you in Iraq told us that the reason you weren’t shot was because none of the bullets used were magical. Any idea what that means?”
Vojtek nodded at Kyle, knowing exactly who it was who said that, “It was a metaphor. He was talking about fate.”
A fighter squadron flying overhead buzzed the chopper.
Vojtek looked outside the chopper and saw that they were close now.
The horizon was dark with smoke.
A smoke that he had seen too often in his life.
A smoke that told of a city that burned.
Aleesha approached the tank and hit it with her tiny fist.
The crew of the tank was killed instantly, as it reached speeds of 200 mph. It even began to hover a few inches from the ground, before one of its treads caught the ground and it started to flip uncontrollably.
She placed her red hot fist on her hip and turned her head casually to the tank on her right. Two red beams fired from her squinted eyes and the tank exploded, just moments after being superheated.
Several of tanks turned their turrets and fired.
Her jaw was clenched tightly and she let the American units embrace her with their fire. Her anger didn’t diminish in the least, even after her breasts were massaged by 3 tank shells or her sex tickled constantly by 9 mm and 20 mm rounds.
With her hands on her hips and her eyes squinting mischievously, she began floating high into the air. Reaching an altitude of about 30 feet, she took one hand off her hip and motioned in the direction she intended to fly.
She flew over the American army firing her heat vision. In high yield, she blew up whatever she saw. In low yield, she ignited groups of soldiers.
Aleesha landed softly next to a transport vehicle, which she had just disabled with her heat vision.
The soldiers crawling out were immediately greeted by her presence. There was a momentary pause, then one of the soldiers aimed their weapon at her.
Aleesha took in a deep breath and blew at them. The wind blowing out of her luscious, pursed lips froze the men to ice cubes. Their eyes still locked on her chest, which swelled seconds prior to their icy death.
Picking up one of the iced soldiers, she launched him at a passing humvee, knocking it on two wheels and making it flip.
Aleesha took notice that the American invasion force was now moving the opposite way. They were retreating.
Aleesha had counted on this – it was an inevitability – but she never expected it to happen so quickly. No matter; she had a little surprise planned for the retreating army.
She crossed her arms over her chest and watched the mightiest army in the world flee from her.
There was cheering coming from the city, as the town inhabitants pursued the retreating forces. Russian made T72 tanks busted out from shacks made to conceal them and fired at the retreating army.
Cam Kneiling inhaled deeply from his cigarette.
Half an hour had passed since the nuclear detonation. Helicopters combed the sea for sign of life, more specifically any signs of her.
He was receiving reports on a minute to minute basis. All were telling that there was nothing in the area.
His attention turned to the fighting in Bogotá.
The first wave had begun its retreat from the city and towards the plains. The plan was going exactly as planned and the gambits were said to be right on schedule.
He received another report indicating that Kate Hasting was nowhere to be found. He would give it 15 more minutes before giving it confirmation. Fifteen more minutes before he would propose a new plan to the President, if the original one somehow failed.
General Horner watched the planned retreat on one of the many monitors. He was aware it would be messy, but nowhere near as bad as it had actually gotten.
In his tours in Afghanistan, Iraq and Iran he had seen men fight in vain for Allah, charging an American encampment and become an unrecognizable corpse for their troubles. But this was different. Different because this time there God was actually fighting for the Colombians and making their will to fight and die far more real and threatening.
He watched impatiently as another tank flipped uncontrollably through the retreating ranks of the first wave. His divisions were now leaving the city and headed into the open plains and, as planned, she was right in the middle of things.
Coordinates were sent to a fleet of high level bombers and Aegis cruisers in the ocean, their objective was to cut off enemy in pursuit from the first wave. As soon as the last operational American vehicle left the city the bombs began to drop. The city edge was lambasted with bomb after bomb and tomahawk after tomahawk.
The Colombian soldiers in pursuit, along with all civilians in the area were hit over and over again.
The blasts were furious and intense, they redefined shock and awe. The bombs continued to blow well after every tanks and everyone in the blast area was dead.
The U.S. convoy moved in the long grass and open field 500 yards between the city and the jungle covered mountains. There it was expected they would fight Aleesha alone and, while she was busy destroying armored vehicles, the gambits would strike her dead. But something unexpected had happened.
As the American units moved deep into the thick long grass, a rocket propelled grenade fired from the grass stroke an tank. Then another fired. Then dozens fired.
Thousands of Colombian regulars jumped onto their feet and charged the retreating American army.
The retreating forces didn’t fire on them initially. There was a wave of confusion, first caused by a 19 year old girl that tossed tanks around as if they were pieces of Lego and now of reports that they had just walked straight into an ambush.
50 yards separated thousands of Colombian regulars from only 1200 American soldiers and their armored vehicles. The retreating U.S ranks opened fire on the engaging Colombians.
The average human can run 50 yards in 8 seconds. In 8 seconds over two thousand Colombian regulars met their fate. The open field erupted in explosions and machine gun fire, which painted the tall grass red with blood. Limbs fell from the sky as tank shells blew hundreds of people sky high. Then the two armies converged, drawing mass confusion through the ranks.
Horner watched with dumbfounded amazement.
‘How the fuck could intel miss something this big? How the fuck could it all go wrong so quickly?’ Horner thought, as he watched and listened to the insanity that ensued.
It was the first time in his long career that he did not have a response for an enemy’s action. If this would have happened under any other scenario it would have been laughable: the regulars did not possess the means to disable an Abrams, however they did have one very effective tank killer with them.
He watched as a tank burned after she had looked upon it and his men spilling out of it were met with a barrage of bullets. It would be impossible to provide the first wave with air support, having thousands of regulars quite literally on top of them … or would it.
The overwhelming majority of his troops were still in their armored units. If he acted quickly he could …
“Order the troops to take shelter in their vehicles, disabled or otherwise, until our birds have passed.” Horner ordered.
His exact words were being repeated more than once as his generals and commanders communicated with the captains and lieutenants in the fight. He then organized a fleet of Apache helicopters that were in the immediate area. He watched the monitor again in amazement, as an American vehicle flew high into the sky and did not come back down.
“Sir! Urgent message from the 24th! Requesting permission to join the first wave.”
Horner looked at the position of the 24th on the monitor, they were well within visual of the first wave, they could see their brothers take punishment and, at the same time, dish it just as well.
“Send to the 24th: request denied.”
The first wave was finished. He would not admit that out loud, but everyone knew it. He would be damned if he would let more Americans die in this lost cause. Another tank, this time burning profusely, flipped with incredible speed uncontrollably through the battlefield.
The monitor he watched zoomed in on Aleesha. It went bright and the image was lost briefly as a high powered shell nailed her in the abdomen. The image was restored and it showed her firing a concentrated blast of heat, undoubtedly at the tank that just hit her.
The radios were screaming from dying men urgently pleading for some kind of support. Screams that were muffled by automatic weapons fire and shell blasts.
A lieutenant brought Horner a satellite image and he looked at it. The image showed tunnels ten feet underground from Bogotá to the grassy field just outside the city. The lieutenant, knowing full well what Horner was going to say, responded first: “They weren’t there 24 hours ago.”
Horner was about to exclaim that that was impossible, there was no way these tunnels could have been dug in 24 hours. Then he looked at the monitor.
She was blowing a powerful gust of wind from her mouth, sending soldiers through the air at incredible speed.
Horner watched her and his stomach turned: she was enjoying herself. Bombs dropped continuously on her, countless bodies laid at her feet – Colombians and Americans alike – and she was loving every second of it.
The word impossible no longer held any meaning to him.
“Send to remaining regiments: Return to base.” Horner reluctantly ordered.
“Sir, what about the first wave?” a commander asked.
“God be with them.”
Fifteen more minutes had passed.
Cam Knieling now felt confident that a nuclear assault on Aleesha would prove successful. All he needed now were the authorization codes from the president. He felt confident he would get them, seeing as how Operation Queen’s Gambit was an inevitable failure.
He picked up the phone and awaited the President to pick up.
He hung up as his eyes picked up something on the monitor: they were retreating. All except the first wave were retreating. He raised his hands in utter confusion.
“What’s this!? What the fuck is this!?”
Cam needed the retreating ranks as bait if a nuclear bombardment was to be successful.
Cam clenched his fist and yelled “Get me Horner! Now!”
Cam paced, as staff worked frantically to connect to an already confused base of operations.
“You’re on sir.”
“General, this is Secretary of defense Cam Knieling. By order of the president of the United States, you will discontinue your withdrawal and reposition units to their previous coordinates!”
There was a long pause before Cam spoke again, “General? Are we clear? You are to discon …”
Cam was cut off by Horner in mid sentence: “I have tactical command, which supersedes your authorization at this particular junction. I will face whatever inquisition following, but I will not send more to the slaughter. Am I clear?! General Horner out!”
Cam roughly ran his hand through his hair and whipped the pen he was holding at the wall. He took in a deep breath and prepared his statement carefully.
He lit another cigarette and began: “General, at this rate the first wave will be finished in no more then 20 minutes. It will take eight hours for retreating American troops to leave Colombian soil. When she finishes with the first wave, do you really think she will simply allow invading soldiers to leave?”
Cam paused and paced a few times inhaling deeply from his cigarette and continued: “If it is morality that you are concerned about then, by all means, put yourself in the men’s shoes. As a soldier of the United States would you prefer to die running to your country or die fighting for it?”
Pausing again to inhale from his cigarette, he continued in a much more subdued voice: “You know as well as I, a three days headstart won’t save these men from her, never mind a 40 minute headstart. General, there is no other front. These men will not live long enough to fight another day.”
Cam awaited a response, but got none. He sat down calmly in his chair butting out his smoke. He folded his hands together and looked blankly at the wall in front of him.
Cam looked at the monitors and the retreating units were turning around and returning to their position. He closed his eyes in relief and, once again, picked up the line leading straight to the president.
Kate was unconscious, falling from 800 feet and closer to the oceans surface.
The water around her limp body boiled and there was nuclear aura that surrounded her. As her body hit the oceans surface, her eyes opened.
Every part of her body was stiff and burned. She looked down at her body and couldn’t help but notice her bigger and glowing breasts. The brightness shone clearly through her costume, which struggled now more than ever to contain her nuclear filled body.
Water boiled all around her heated body and she began pulling her shirt over, revealing her nuclear charged endowments. She placed her hands gently on her tender glowing breasts.
She was aware of what was occurring: her breasts could not contain the energies stored in them, so the power was slowly being transferred across her body.
Her legs still remained feminine, but looked more defined. Her abdomen proudly presented a feminine six pack. And her arms looked as if she had been lifting light weights for much of her life.
She placed her thumbs and forefingers on her nipples, closed her eyes and squeezed. She screamed as two bright beams fired out of her nipples and into a canyon across the ocean floor. The canyon exploded, when the nuclear energies struck it.
Kate couldn’t help but think that, given the size of the explosion, she could have wiped out a small community with just a pinch of her erect nipples.
She looked down at her bust, which had gained an obvious cup size since the blast. Then she looked up – using her super vision to see through the murky water, and spot two choppers combing the area – undoubtedly for her. Her super brain picked up the radio transmissions the choppers were relaying.
Kate grinded her teeth in anger, pulled and adjusted the mighty ‘S’ back over her swelling chest and began to rise at a phenomenal rate to the surface.
Vojtek and Delta members looked below from the Black Hawk, which hovered 200 feet above the first wave. Grass was burning in many spots, tanks were smoldering, missiles and RPG’s could be seen streaking toward their targets.
“What are we waiting for?!” A delta member called out to the chopper pilot.
“On our 3!” the chopper pilot called back.
A squadron of 16 Apache helicopters flew underneath the Black Hawks in a V formation. Their machine guns flaring, as they did a strafing run over the first wave – killing a few friendlies and a lot more hostiles.
Kyle looked down in shock as the American choppers made their run over top of their own troops.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me” Kyle said in almost a whisper.
Smith looked down below and swallowed hard. He could not believe that the mission had not been aborted.
The first wave was now commanded by anarchy.
He could see soldiers grouping together around broken down tanks, making their perimeters and shooting anything that got near them. It wasn’t just a bad idea, it was simply stupid.
He had a kid and wife to support. He couldn’t afford to die, especially for nothing. He had seen odds stacked up against him before but not like this. They weren’t going to get on the ground without being shot, much less shoot a target that was super.
Smith’s eyes widened as a tank flew from the surface in an upward direction. He shielded his eyes, as the massive Abrams slammed into a Black Hawk helicopter 100 meters across from his. It was an image he truly never thought he would see in his lifetime.
The Black Hawk erupted into a massive fireball and its debris rained below. The Abrams tank was covered in burning fuel from the Black Hawk and rose a few hundred feet more before descending back down.
Smith wondered which one of his unfortunate colleagues met his fate in that Black Hawk.
The Apaches finished their run and the Black Hawks lowered themselves to 25 feet.
“Go! Go! Go! Go!” one of the pilots yelled.
Smith slung his rifle across his shoulder and grabbed the rope.
There was a series of clanking sounds throughout the chopper as automatic gunfire was spraying into it. The Delta members were returning fire from the chopper and using the Black Hawks minigun in a futile effort to create a safe DZ.
Four Deltas grabbed the rope and descended under constant fire. Two of them got shot before they got to the bottom.
Smith’s heart rate picked up, as he looked down one more time, taking in the suicidal image before making his descent. He heard the sharp zipping sound of a bullet and then a sudden cracking sound.
‘It was okay. He’d be alright. It just grazed him.’ were the last thoughts that went through his head as the bullet entered his throat and blew out the back of his head.
Smith’s vision went dark, his arms fell limp to his sides and he fell out of the chopper.
A rocket propelled grenade smashed into the cockpit of Vojtek’s chopper.
The windows of the Black Hawk were splattered in blood, as the pilot and the copilot clutched onto there almost severed legs screaming in agony. The chopper computer began beeping continuously signaling that the chopper was going down.
Vojtek watched as one of the Deltas was thrown out of the chopper as it spun around and around. Realizing that his best chance for survival was to exit the helicopter, he battled the G-force, grabbed the rope and pulled himself out of the doomed vehicle.
Descending to about 15 feet, the chopper began a nose dive flight toward the ground. Vojtek let go of the rope and fell 15 feet to the ground.
He hit the ground hard on his feet and then rolled in the deep grass. Vojtek laid on his belly.
The ground beneath sent vibrations across his body as bullets and shells smacked the ground around him. He could hear the quick rustling of grass as bullets cut through it. Then the ground shook violently, as the Black Hawk he was in crashed hard into the field.
Staying low to the ground, Vojtek put on his earphones and listened for orders. The sounds of bombs, machine gun fire and mortars were all mute. It was almost disorientating, he couldn’t hear a damn thing.
He began speaking into his mic telling command that he was on the ground, not hearing the sound of his own voice felt extremely odd. He repeated himself but got no reply from command.
The ground in front of him popped into his face from an impacting slug. He rubbed his eye and thought ‘fuck this’ as he pulled off the ear phones.
Vojtek pulled out his Desert Eagles, clutching them tightly he took in a deep breath and lifted himself to an upright position and out of the tall grass.
Terrance and the Deltas protecting him all got off the chopper safely. The Deltas fired their guns desperately, but they might as well have tried to gun down a swarm of hornets. Less than ten seconds on the ground one of the Deltas was stung.
Blood splattered across Terrance’s face as one of the bullets exited a Delta’s arm. The arm went limp, but the Delta held his ground and continued his suppression of the enemy.
Dozens of Colombians dropped in the barrage of bullets but one did not. One not only survived, but walked through the hail of bullets, their munitions deflecting off her body as if they were throwing popcorn.
Terrance dropped his machine gun to the ground and pulled the rifle off his shoulder. There was a momentary delay as they took in her beauty.
It all felt like it was in slow motion for Terrance as his heart felt like it had just stopped.
She was walking toward them seductively, more like a porn star on a catwalk than a girl with the burden of the U.S. military attacking her.
The Deltas' machine guns flared continuously, managing nothing but to dimple her perfect body and those perfect breasts.
Terrance raised the rifle toward her, not noticing that she was doing something with her mouth. Terrance aimed.
She puckered her lips and seemed to blow softly. Bullets fired out of her mouth as she spit them out as if they were sunflower seeds.
It happened in mere seconds and sounded like a very short burst from a gatling gun. The Deltas were no longer providing suppression. One by one, their bodies fell limp into the tall grass.
Terrance lowered his rifle, not having the strength to hold it anymore. He looked down at his chest and it was covered with bullet wounds. His breathing was labored and he looked up at her.
Aleesha seemed disappointed that she didn’t have one more bullet in her mouth for this man. She put her hand beneath her chin a blew Terrance a quick kiss.
The wind launched him backwards at an extreme velocity, but he did not feel his body break against a burning transport vehicle, since his neck snapped from the initial whiplash moments after his takeoff.
Vojtek wasn’t out of the grass long before he seen his targets or, for that matter, became one.
The first Colombian he shot was out of panic, as he popped him twice in the head when one bullet would have sufficed. He heard the zipping sound of several bullets grazing inches away from his head, over the banging sound of his desert eagles.
Advancing Colombian solidiers were caught off guard by his presence and five fell dead to his attack.
His Desert Eagles clicked, as they ran out of ammunition, and Vojtek hit the deck taking cover in the tall grass to reload. He could hear the grass being mowed above him by a constant barrage of gunfire not all aimed for him.
His weapon reloaded, Vojtek once again stood up from his position and began sprinting toward a burned out tank. Through the smoke, he could see someone manning a .50 cal and turning the machine gun in his direction. He heard the loud cracking sound in fast repetition as the .50 cal provided suppressing fire for him.
He reached the tank, ran to the other side of it and there he witnessed his first glimpse of her destructive power. The tank side was completely melted away. The only thing preventing Vojtek from seeing the burnt out corpses inside the tank was the black smoke that poured out of it. He looked up at the soldier manning the .50 cal and saw his life threatening burns. He was alive and fighting on adrenalin alone.
Vojtek looked around at his immediate surroundings.
She had already been here, a melted tank, severed limbs and a lot of death told her story.
The fighting was sporadic in this area, mostly wounded U.S. soldiers firing at wounded or advancing Colombian regulars.
He looked hundred yards up field, there the fighting was still intense. Some tanks were still operational and a working perimeter was formed.
A pair of F-15s zipped overhead and fired a few missiles into the open field between the first wave and Bogotá, apparently targeting something underground. The ground shook violently and Vojtek felt the explosions heat touch his face. Missiles cutting across the mountains whistled through the massive explosion to their intended targets in the city. Apaches circled overhead, like crows waiting for their food to die. Jets were flying in everywhere.
Vojtek paused and took in the surreal moment. His heart felt like it dropped into his stomach, either out of fear or out of lust one thing was certain: he was home.
He holstered his Desert Eagles and picked up an AK-74 and some ammo before advancing. He moved from burning tank to upside down humvees, trying to keep as low of a profile as he could. He could hear the furious gun battle raging and, as he closed in, the bodies on the ground became denser. Some were even piled 4 high and most were Colombians.
As he moved forward, his feet began making a squishing sound, as the blood from all the dead mixed in with the dirt. He walked cautiously now. Black smoke hid his movement, as the remaining fuel of the thrashed vehicles burned brightly.
He knelt and took aim, thinking he heard movement closing toward him. After a brief moment he stood up and began walking again. He checked his right, then lowered his weapon and began walking casually to a wounded soldier.
Cly was sitting against an upside down tank and staring at the blue sky.
Vojtek looked at the blood splattered on the tank that trailed down from where Cly was sitting. There were dead Americans all around him, most of them by gunfire.
Vojtek kneeled beside him and checked his wound. It was fatal.
“It’s too nice of a day to die.” Cly said and turned to Vojtek, “Don’t you think?”
Vojtek sat down next to his old colleague and watched the ensuing battle as if it were a beautiful sunset. He watched the last American perimeter get breached and listened to his friend take his last breath. He stood up and closed Cly’s eyes with his fingers.
“I’ll be seeing you shortly.” he said and reached for his rifle.
A Colombian running to the front saw Vojtek stand up and turned his rifle toward him. Two shots rang out and the Colombian dropped to his knees.
Kyle took three hard steps toward the falling Colombian and blew his brains out the back, execution style.
Vojtek pulled off Cly’s headphones and tossed them to Kyle.
Kyle looked at them confused, while Vojtek tossed him a rifle.
“Congratulations, you’ve just been demoted.”
Aleesha watched the last hundred or so U.S. troops forming a perimeter and slaughtering the Colombian regulars who charged it, in a desperate effort to break through the tightly guarded border. She walked toward it confidently and enjoyed the spectacle before her.
It was no secret that American policy was, at times, heavily criticized by Colombian people – even a 19 year old prostitute was aware of that – but the way the Colombian regulars fought had nothing to do with their dislike for American policy or their people. They advanced and died for her.
She could have used her super-speed and rip apart the perimeter, but she was intoxicated with power. To her, the death that surrounded her was a form of worship.
She attempted to dismiss the battle field and imagined a giant golden sculpture of herself, made to honor her victory over the American army. Perhaps even a tribute to those soldiers who fought beside her.
‘How giant?’ she briefly wondered, ‘Perhaps the tallest structure in the world?’
She smiled thinking that – at the size that she wanted it to be – there wouldn’t be enough gold in the world to fill her breasts, never mind the rest of her body.
She was getting closer to the perimeter and bullets began pinging off her voluptuous body.
A Colombian soldier cut in front of her slow walk. His back exploded from an exiting bullet. The round fired through his back and whipped toward Aleesha. She caught the bullet between her fingertips. As she walked by the fallen soldier, she casually dropped the bullet on him, like it was something he had lost or dropped.
A Colombian regular slammed into her back and took refuge behind her invulnerable body, while gunfire intensified. She turned her head and looked at him disapprovingly.
While so many fell to American guns, this arrogant little worm dare use her as a shield. Grabbing him by the scruff, she launched him into the perimeter. His body exploded against a tank causing his bones to splinter and become dangerous shrapnel to the exposed units. Three U.S. soldiers fell in agony as shards of bone entered their bodies.
It was just enough for the Colombian regulars to expose a weak spot and begin storming through it.
Aleesha watched her troops getting inside the American lines and, in a way, was disappointed. It was going to be over soon and she felt she could go on for days.
A pair of F-15s shot over the mountains making a run toward the city. Their pass would intersect across the first wave.
Aleesha grinned wickedly as her feet began to leave the ground.
Specs and Simon were making another pass at Bogotá. They cut over the mountains at supersonic speed.
Specs caught something on his scanner, as he was recalibrating his targeting computer. He looked up and to his amazement saw her.
He had enough time to make a sharp turn to avoid her, but didn’t.
He was on a collision course with her and, as he stared at her phenomenal body, he imagined it splattering like a bug overtop of his cockpit window.
Aleesha was pushing out her chest as the jet rocketed toward her. She could tell that the nose of the plane was going to slam straight into her firm bust. Aleesha had never been hit by something this big before and, while she knew for a fact it would not be fatal, she was curious if it would be a pleasurable one.
She grimaced as the nose of the jet touched her breasts. Her breasts compacted as tightly as they could, causing her cleavage to almost touch her neck. The jet was managing to push her backwards in midair, but only by a few feet. The jet grinded up against her body, its steel crumpling against her. The wings began embracing her in a hug, as they criss crossed behind her and then it blew up.
Aleesha lifted her chin turned her head and closed her eyes as shrapnel and debris nailed her sweet spots. She gasped as the explosion engulfed her. She hugged herself tightly after the thrilling experience and began spinning elegantly in midair.
The fallen fighter’s wingman turned hard toward her. The vulcan cannon on the jet opened up on her. The continuous siege of the heavy rounds licked her firm buttocks and moved up the small of her back.
As she turned, the rounds massaged her stomach, caressed her abs, then vigorously played with her firm tits. She snapped out her trance just in time to prevent the jet from crashing into her. Flying backwards she matched the jet speed and straddled the nose of the plane.
The pilot made desperate sharp turns and barrel rolls, all failing to shake her off.
Aleesha smiled at him through the canopy, as her firm tits pressed down on the hard glass. The glass cracked and broke away and she entered the cockpit and embraced the pilot.
Simon could not believe that what he was seeing was actually occurring. The goddess-like woman gently rubbed her tits in Simon’s face, knocking his mask off. Her erect nipples pleasurably scratched across his skin. Simon closed his eyes in ecstasy, as the goddess-like woman gently ran her hands down his body.
The computer beeping snapped him back to reality, as the jet began its nose dive into the earth.
Simon panicked and desperately tried to pull up, but Aleesha’s pert ass sat too close to the control stick and he couldn’t budge it a single inch. His eyes widened in fear as the ground closed in on him at an incredible velocity.
Aleesha embraced the pilot in a kiss, just seconds before the jet smashed into the ground nose first. She slowed down time as much as she could with her super senses.
With the speed of the plane being transferred into the pilots body, he was crushed as his body slammed into Aleesha’s.
As his body disintegrated against hers, Aleesha couldn’t help but be disappointed that this was the hardest a man would ever embrace her.
The nose of the plane flattened and her back hit the ground, but it felt more like she just jumped backwards onto a soft bed. The rest of the plane collapsed upon her and, finally, exploded in a huge fireball. The explosion shooting out of the jungle could be seen for miles as the planes debris rained from the sky.
Aleesha stood up, smiled wickedly and walked out of the burning remains of the jet. She took a few steps forward and noticed that her cleavage was smoldering. Putting her hand deep into her tight cleavage she pulled out part of the jets turbine.
‘Ohhh, this is fantastic!’ she thought as she leaped back into the air searching for another flying dildo.
To her disappointment all planes were pulling back, but she knew she would see them back in full force when she organized the invasion of America.
Looking down she watched her country men struggle with the last remaining tank of the first wave. She positioned her body and then bolted toward it.
Kate rose slowly and dramatically out of the water. She hovered 50 feet above the water and she let the choppers take in her body, which dried almost the moment she left the water. She let them see and relay that, not only did their attack fail, but all it managed to do was make her tits bigger and piss her off.
It took every moral fiber in her being not to blow up the choppers with her heat vision, not to smash their little flying toy’s to pieces with a swift kick from her red boot, not to fly down to Washington and send those responsible into orbit.
Then the thought occurred to her.
She had no idea how much time had past but, at quick glance at the sun position, it couldn’t have been more than an hour. Her right arm pointed into the sky, while the other one dropped and seemed to push down. She flexed her calves and zipped high into the sky in a flash of blue and red.
She scanned Earth from orbit, getting a fix on where she was in the world and then she saw it: the burning city of Bogotá.
She doubted she needed her super-vision to see it. Even in the daylight, it shined brightly from the ongoing bombardment. She moved her hand down and she rocketed toward the burning city.
Cam had to a double take when he saw her. They had used a nuclear bomb on her, and yet there she was. He covered his face with his hand shaking his head.
“Get the … ummm … Contact gener … tell … Fuck!”
Sevez, along with dozen of Colombians, charged through the breached perimeter. Many of them were gunned down upon entry.
Sevez aimed his rifle at an American soldier and fired. The U.S. soldier grabbed his neck as blood came gushing out of it and then was fired upon by Colombian soldiers advancing.
Sevez turned his attention to a younger American soldier, who had dropped his weapon and raised his arms to surrender. Sevez took a quick aim and fired, the soldier grabbed his face in pain and fell dead.
One tank was all that was left of the first wave and, with the perimeter breached, it made a run for the breach.
Sevez took aim at the gunner manning the .50 cal. He aimed carefully and followed the tank with his rifle. Squinting one eye he prepared to fire.
A wounded American soldier crawling through the grass fired 3 shots at Sevez. The three shots entered his back and exited his chest.
Sevez’s rifle wobbled. With his vision blacking, it took all of his remaining strength to depress the trigger.
The muzzle of the rifle flashed and the bullet raced toward the soldier manning the .50 cal.
The bullet zipped by him and cut across the field. It squeezed through the burnt out windows of a Humvee and made its way to its unsuspecting victim.
Vojtek heard the sharp zipping sound of the bullet before it nailed in him in the side. Slicing through his ribs and narrowly missing his liver.
Vojtek dropped his elbow to cover the wound. He stumbled aiming his AK-74 in a desperate search to find the gunman who shot him and then he fell.
Kyle rushed to his side “How bad is it?”
Vojtek breathed with difficulty, “I think it’s okay.”
“What do you want to do?” Kyle asked.
“We keep moving.”
Kyle helped Vojtek back to his feet, “Can you stand on your own?”
“Yeah” Vojtek said as Kyle let go of him.
Vojtek stepped forward and, as his foot touched the ground, a sharp pain cut across his ribs.
Vojtek looked at the last Abrams as it retreated towards there position.
He finally had to admit that his mission was over. His target was somewhere 20 000 feet in the air. The last American unit was retreating and other regiments stayed far away from the fray and showed no signs of engaging.
Kyle was flagging down the running Abrams and Vojtek slowly proceeded forward. He looked up just in time to see a blue bolt from the sky nail the Abrams and stop it dead in its tracks. A thunderous crackle could be heard shortly after; if he didn’t know better he would have thought that the tank was struck by lightning.
Vojtek dropped the AK-74 and reached for the rifle that was slung behind his back.
Aleesha slammed through the Abrams and ended up underneath it, the sudden jolt killed most of the tank crew. The Abrams rose in the air, as Aleesha stood up and lifted it over her head.
Kyle looked on at her with lust and amazement. Her sexy, thin body was shadowed by the massive tank, but she seemed to have no problem hoisting it into the air.
Aleesha smiled at the soldier ogling her, then pulled her arms back in preparation for the throw.
“KYLE! DOWN!!” Vojtek screamed as he leaped backwards.
Aleesha launched the tank at the two men.
Kyle making his dodge far too late, the tank smashed into him, leaving no more than a bloody stain on the hull of the tank. The flying tank narrowly missed Vojtek by inches and he landed on his back.
Vojtek rolled off his back, slung the rifle into position and took aim at her – all while ignoring the searing pain shooting across his ribs.
Aleesha smiled at another soon to be dead American pointing his toy at her. She could have just incinerated him, but decided to toy with this last one. She put her palms on the top part of her pert ass and strolled toward Vojtek without a care in the world.
Vojtek, seeing that she was allowing him to shoot her, placed his ear phones in position.
Aleesha glanced to her right and took note that there were plenty of American troops and armor still waiting on the outskirts of her city. She wondered what they were waiting for.
Vojtek aimed again, his arm still shaking from the pain. He aimed at her torso.
She winked at him … he winked back.
The rifle Boomed.
Sporadic fighting within 300 yard of the shot stopped, as soldiers dropped in agony when the massive detonation blew out there ear drums.
Aleesha’s cocky grin disappeared, as the bullet that was fired at her moved much too fast. In comparison to her super senses, this bullet was the same as a human trying to be able to track a paint ball fired at him. By the time she had decided to move out of the way, it was too late.
The bullet smacked her in the stomach.
Aleesha gasped from the pain. Something was wrong. Something was so wrong. She put her hand on her stomach and tried to come to terms with reality: she was shot.
Vojtek’s rifle boomed once more.
The bullet snapped through the invulnerability of her tight blue top, squeezed between her bust and entered her chest. She fell to her knees, as Vojtek got up to his feet and aimed again.
Aleesha wanted to cry, as she saw her own blood pouring out of her body. She looked at the soldier with anger and fired a blast of heat at him from her fuming eyes, just as the third shot came.
The bullet hit her in the shoulder and blasted out the other side, causing her to grimace in pain and miss Vojtek with her heat vision. She screamed like a desperate woman, screamed with rage, desperation and sadness.
Vojtek took aim again and fired. This time the bullet shot through her collar bone and stuck itself deep into her upper back.
Vojtek walked closer to her and aimed his rifle at her again. Her eyes pleaded him, as she looked at him. Vojtek looked at the fallen Colombian and briefly saw Kate’s fate through her. His mind projected a vision of Kate fallen in front of him with bullet hole wounds all of her lovely body. Reluctantly he aimed at her head.
The rifle boomed again and closed the eyes of his victim.
Every military satellite watched Vojtek slay the monster, and every branch of Government watching cheered in celebration and relief.
Cam Kneiling lit up another cigarette in celebration. He retained his cool, but inside he felt like jumping around like a six year old at a playground.
General Horner having called off his air units once she had claimed the sky’s was now sending the jets back into Bogotá. With the 19 year old girl that made mincemeat out his armies out of the picture, tactical operations once again made sense to him.
Aleesha lay unconscious on the ground.
The bullet in her stomach was being pushed out of her.
Her collarbone began to repair itself at an incredible rate and the bullet that entered her chest was also pushed out of her body.
The scientists who orchestrated the Project thought of everything. Everything but a metabolism that was as super as she was.
The bullet in her skull pushed itself out of her forehead and her eyes opened.
Vojtek watched as the petite girl get back onto her feet and check her body over. She seemed particularly concerned with the hole in her shiny blue top, a hole that didn’t repair itself like those in her own body.
Vojtek pulled off the headphones and waited patiently for her.
With the invulnerability of her shiny blue top compromised the hole in her top began to get bigger. The shirt was now losing the battle to contain her super endowments. It split down the middle and fell off of her body. She looked at the soldier angrily and began walking toward him.
Vojtek dropped his rifle, which held only the five shots, and wondered how quick his death would be. As Aleesha walked toward him her exposed perfect breasts bounced ever so slightly. Vojtek kept his focus on her eyes, which even now impressed Aleesha.
Aleesha’s firm warm tits pressed on Vojtek’s chest as the two stared each other in the eyes.
“I think you deserve to know that – in the 20 paces it took me to get from there to here – I thought one million three hundred and twenty seven thousand two hundred and twelve ways to kill you. Ohhh so painfully.” Aleesha said containing her anger for now.
Vojtek nodded at her, “Well, perhaps if you have the time, we can go through them all, and I can help you choose the best one.”
Aleesha looked at his lips for even a hint of a smile, a smile she would have burned off his face with her heat vision.
Vojtek kept a straight face.
Kate’s body burned through the atmosphere as she speeded her way toward Bogotá.
Floating 400 feet above the city she used her super-vision to look for Vojtek.
Scanning the city with her eyes and picking up every sound for miles with her ears she finally spotted him.
“Oooooh, you’re a funny one, aren’t you?” Aleesha commented as her finger caressed his wound.
Vojtek grimaced in pain.
“I’m curious. Does it upset you that all you managed to do was convince the world that I am completely impervious to all your toys?” Aleesha’s petite hand squeezed Vojtek into her chest.
Vojtek was having a hard time breathing, when he heard one of his ribs crack.
“Oh, I’m sorry, did my tit do that?”
Vojtek gasped for air as she released the pressure.
“Nothing to say? Tsk, but you were sooo funny. Oh c’mon, say something. Say something funny. I want you too.”
Vojtek had no doubt that he was going to die, the only question now remained was: how much pain would he endure. As strong as he wa,s he had no doubt that she could break him, make him scream and beg for mercy. Vojteks heart rate picked up, like a person getting ready to shoot himself in the head.
He looked into Aleesha’s eyes and smiled, “Soon enough I’ll be dead. But you will always and forever be a two bit fucking whore. All the power in the universe can’t change that. Maybe you can live with that, me personally, I find it funny.”
Vojtek’s plan was to die quickly and painlessly. His plan failed.
Aleesha’s hand grabbed Vojtek’s jaw and opened his mouth breaking some of his teeth in the process. She fired a small dose of her heat vision into the back of his throat.
“You Insolent little fuck! How Dare You!” she screamed.
Her hand moved down his body and broke through Vojtek’s ribs and reached for the bullet that was in him. Puncturing his lung and displacing his stomach, she grabbed the bullet and began pulling it out. Extending her pinky she severed his spinal cord and then violently yanked out the bullet.
With his cartilage, muscle and blood still on the bullet she showed him it. “I won’t have something like this claim my prize. You think you’re going to die soon, don’t you? Well, you won’t. You’ve got a good half hour before you leave this world and I’m going to make that time drag on for an eternity.”
Vojtek pulled her long black hair as hard as he could and embraced her in a hug, doing his best to take the unbearable pain.
Aleesha was about to tear his arms off, when she felt a presence behind her, a very powerful presence. Dropping Vojtek she turned around and looked at the girl standing before her. The tight blue leotard hugged every generous curve on the girl’s enviable body.
Kate was abut to cry right there.
Vojtek was alive but it was too late, too late for him and countless others.
Her anger was boiling over. She wanted to punish so many. But for now just the Colombian would have to do.
Vojtek had barely enough strength to put the headphones on.
The two goddesses engaged each other.