Comments to Redhawk. Constructive criticism definitely listened to.

Part VI: Future

Even as the pack approached the gate, Dusky could hear the staccato popping of gunfire coupled with grenade explosions. She was directly behind the riot car, using it for cover as it was better armored than her bike. Shake and Remy flanked her on their own wheels.

Another explosion, this one from behind them startled her. The woman clinging to her from behind yelled into her ear.

"Missiles! From outside!"

Dusky nodded curtly at the data. Her cyberoptic picked up Delva's fire team entering the fray before her vision was blocked by the vehicle in front. Ahead of her, Liz and Tank began to fire on the shock troopers at the gate. She glanced to either side, checking her backup. "Here we go!" she yelled as the car crashed through the flimsy wire barricade.

And then they were through. Behind them, the remainder of Delva's soldiers dispatched the last of the troopers and followed on foot. The plan called for the motorized pack to get through the gate, go a safe distance, and stop to pick up the soldiers and transport them from the war zone. But, as usually happens with all plans, shit happened.

A missile flying overhead impacted with the gate - a direct hit. The resulting fireball and shockwave completely decimated what was left of the already crumbling structure. And the pack was caught on the edge of the killing field.

Despite the fact that she was at full throttle, the repercussion pushed Dusky's bike forward. The riot car had more mass and wasn't as heavily affected. The Red Wolf fought for control, using all her strength to keep the bike upright. Her lover squeezed her tightly around the waist, hunkering down against her back.

The back of the riot car was approaching fast. Too close! No time! "Shit!" she screamed, a warcry from the depths of her soul. It helped focus her physical and spiritual being into a final act of domination and control. From deep within the pack leader's very will caused her to recover from the shockwave. At the last minute, the bike cleared the rear right bumper of the riot car by a fraction of an inch.

"Fuck me!" she crowed in relief. Her control of the bike was restored and the pressure behind dissipated. She heaved a sigh, preparing to continue past the car and take the lead. And then there was a frantic tugging on her jacket from her passenger.

"We have to stop!" Shannon insisted at the top of her lungs, ears still ringing from the explosion.

Dark brows frowned in irritation. "We're still too close!" She craned her neck around to glare at her lover. Her exasperation faded as she saw the fear and worry in royal blue eyes. She could make out the word 'stop' and 'Remy'. Remy?! "Hang on!"

With her heart in her throat, Dusky downshifted and braked, veering away from the riot car as it pulled away. The tortured motorcycle screamed its agony at the treatment, but dutifully obeyed its master. The pack leader left deep black marks on the pavement as her rear tire skittered around. The acrid smell of burnt rubber lent itself to the mix of incendiary devices and woodsmoke.

The gate and apparently half the city of Boise was in flames. Even as Dusky accelerated, she saw her uncle's bike still sliding along the pavement in a crumpled heap. Her infrared was messed up by the fire, but the vision enhancement picked up a body lying nearby, its own forward motion just recently halted. She pulled up next to him and dived off the bike, leaving Shannon to wrestle the monster onto its kickstand.

Remy's face was covered in blood and the white of bone protruded from the unnaturally twisted left leg. Dusky was relieved to feel a pulse. She ran her hands over the unconscious elder, accessing damage. Looks like the head and leg only. Definite concussion, blood loss.... Wonder if he'll walk again?

Shannon knelt down at her side. "What do you need me to do?"

With a tight, grateful smile, Dusky said, "Hold his shoulders, pin him down. I've gotta straighten this leg and get the bone back into place."

The redhead nodded and swallowed nervously. She scooted to the head of the man and leaned on his shoulders.

"Ready?" At Shannon's nod, Dusky pulled the injured leg, working the bone back through the wound it had made. Even in his unconscious state, Remy moaned and weakly tried to move away from the pain. "Hold him!" She felt the bone grate sickeningly before she got it to where it needed to go. "Okay. It's good."

Shannon released Remy's shoulders as Shake pulled up on his bike. His own shoulder wound was seeping through the bandages and his dark eyes were wide with fear.

Dusky ripped the front of the elder's shirt off and wadded it up, placing it on the leg wound and gesturing her lover closer. "Here! Put pressure on this. I don't think he severed an artery, but we can't be too careful." To Shake, the pack leader ordered, "Go get Tank and Liz! We've gotta get him outta here!"

The teenager nodded vigorously and took off after the riot car.

The dark woman wrestled with Remy's belt, pulling it off and beginning to wrap it around the man's thigh above the wound. As she tightened the substitute tourniquet, she glanced up at a pale face and scared blue eyes. "How ya doing?" she asked. "You okay?"

Shannon swallowed and nodded. "Yeah, I'm okay." So much blood. She swallowed again.

Delva and the remainder of his fire team trotted up. The big man immediately dropped at the elder's head. Out of one of the many pouched on his belt, he pulled an emergency first aid kid and began tending the head wound. His two soldiers took up positions to cover them.

"You've got a head wound," the pack leader said, noting the blood running down Delva's face.

"Just a scrape. Took a short flight away from the gate and landed on a rock." He mopped blood away from Remy's face. "I'll be fine."

Dusky nodded quickly as she returned attention to her uncle. She took over from Shannon and leaned on the leg wound to stop the bleeding.

When the riot car showed up, Tank dived out of the passenger side and threw open the back doors. Between he and Delva, they situated the injured and still unconscious man inside. The big Wolf and one of his soldiers climbed in after, Tank getting back into his seat. The other soldier mounted Shake's bike to offer extra firepower should anybody be tailing them. The women got on Dusky's bike and the convoy pulled away.

A weary pack leader pulled to the side of the dark rest area. Behind her, a riot car and one other motorcycle growled to a halt and shut down. Soon, the only sounds were the gentle ticking and pinging of cooling engines and movement from the pack. They had been traveling for a couple of hours and this was a good chance to work the kinks out.

The soldier on Shake's bike dismounted and stretched, his low voice making some sort of comment. The teenager grinned and climbed off, as well. Liz opened the driver's door of the riot car, her voice full of grumbles about 'old ladies' and 'chamber pots'. She made a beeline toward the dark building that housed the toilets, flashlight bobbing in a pool of light.

Shannon leaned back and released her hold on the dark woman's waist as Dusky brought the bike onto its own stand. She slid her hands up her lover's back, running across warm leather until she reached the collar. The courier took hold of the heavy braid and pulled it from the left side to behind. She left one hand at the juncture of neck and shoulder, a finger caressing tan skin as she leaned her forehead forward against Dusky. She inhaled deeply of leather and cinnamon and smoke.

Dusky sighed and closed her eyes, basking in their proximity. "How you doing?" her low voice rumbled.

"I'm good." Despite herself, the courier yawned. "I think I need a new patch. The headache's coming back."

The pack leader nodded her head and got off the bike. "Go tell Shake you need one. I'm gonna go check on Remy."

"Okay." Shannon stumbled as she climbed off the bike. Looking up into concerned silver/green eyes, she smiled reassurance. "I'm alright. Just not used to all this riding. My rear's gonna have calluses before the month's up."

The dark woman's face broke into a grin. "Maybe you need a massage," she suggested with a leer.

Shannon stepped forward into a warm embrace. "And you come from a long line of master masseuses?" She snuggled against her lover, face buried in a warm chest.

A low chuckle. "Well, not really. But I'm eager to learn...." And a long hand snaked down to squeeze a bit of flesh, pressing the smaller woman's pelvis tight against a muscled thigh.

And then the redhead was standing alone as the pack leader walked away towards the riot car.

"Oooh, I hate it when she does that," she grumbled. She turned toward the other bike and the two men talking quietly beside it.

Dusky pulled open the back door and surveyed the interior of the riot car. A pair of familiar green eyes looked back at her. With a grin, she climbed in and sat down next to her uncle's prone form. "How ya doing?" she asked as she began going over his injuries.

"Pretty good, all things considered. It takes a lot to kill a Red Wolf," the elder said, his voice slightly slurred. "Liz kept me up after I woke."

The dark woman snorted as she took time to glance at the three other occupants. Tank was snoozing in the passenger seat, bald head back and the seatbelt the only thing keeping him in upright. Delva and his soldier were curled up nearby, for all the world a couple of hibernating bears. "Guess I know who's pulling guard duty first."

Remy chuckled and then hissed in pain at a particularly rough prod of his leg.

"Sorry."

"S'okay, Dusk. The endorphins are wearing off, is all."

While the leg had been set, the pack leader could see it wasn't where it needed to be. "You know this is set wrong?" she asked. At his nod, she continued, "We'll get you to a ripperdoc in Seattle, first thing. Have 'em reset it." She finished her examination and studied his face. "And maybe a plastic surgeon. Whaddya think?"

"I'm all for the ripperdoc," the older man agreed, adjusting himself with a grimace. he scooped up his canteen and uncapped it. "But, let's skip the plastic surgery, eh? Somebody once said that battle scars draw the women." He wiggled his eyebrows at his laughing niece and took a drink of water.

By this time an audience had gathered. Shake leaned into the vehicle to grip the elder's shoulder with a relieved smile. The soldier he'd been riding with stayed a respectful distance away, keeping an eye on the surrounding area. Shannon leaned against the doorway, arms crossed and watching them.

Another door opened, causing the vehicle to jostle as Liz clambered back into the driver's seat. She turned to stare over the headrest. "Well? Now what?"

Dusky sobered. "Now we roust these lazy asses and put 'em on guard while the rest of us catch a nap." She rose from her seated position and kicked Delva's boot. "I wanna be outta here by dawn."

As the big Wolf dragged himself to wakefulness, Liz shook her lover. And then the sleeping soldier was rudely awakened. After hearing the plan, the three men stopped their grumbling and hopped out of the riot car to stretch and prepare for duty. There was a moment when the soldier seemed disinclined to do the pack leader's bidding, but Delva shoved him out the door saying, "Watch it, Doughterty. She outranks me."

Liz climbed into the passenger seat that Tank had just vacated and reclined it, sighing happily. Delva replaced the elder's endorphin patch and opted to hang out at the entrance of the car to keep the wounded man company and awake. Tank and Dougherty moved away from the group to take up positions on the perimeter. Shake and his new companion decided to crash outside the car on either side as additional protection. Finally, Dusky set up her sleepbag and spare blanket next to her bike in the scraggly grass of the rest area.

Those that could fell into a heavy slumber, exhaustion taking over.

"Yo, Dusk."

The dark woman groggily came to. Three hours sleep in nearly forty-eight didn't cut it and even her teenaged body was beginning to feel the effect of the abuse. Opening tired silver/green eyes, she looked around and found Delva squatting nearby.

"Time to get up," he said softly.

Dusky nodded in acknowledgement and the big Wolf rose to his feet and headed back towards the riot car. The lingering smell of coffee wafted her direction as she stretched. The body that was in the sleepbag draped across her long form mumbled a protest and tried to burrow back into the solid form. Dusky grunted in surprise and used her hand to block the worst of the damage from a very sharp elbow.

Shannon floated sleepily along in that place where time meant nothing and all was well. There was movement somewhere, outside, far away, and she ignored it. And then there was noise. Eventually, her mind could discern that it was speech. A low contralto voice weaved itself across the warp of her slumber and the courier shivered in pleasure.

"Preciada.... Wake up...."

The redhead groaned. "Don't wanna...."

Dusky studied her stubborn woman. Nothing short of a bomb going off beneath her was going to roust Shannon. An evil grin crossed the pack leader's face. Well.... Maybe something will....

With a gentle movement, she rolled over, pinning the smaller woman beneath her. The redhead's only response waws to murmur under her breath, squirming a bit to get more comfortable. Dusky eased up onto her elbows to free her hands. And then she found the fastening to the sleepbag and began to unzip it, looking for her lover inside.

It wasn't long before red hair gave way to a sweet face. The dark woman began gracing the lighter skin with kisses. Her lips blazed a trail along the jawline, parallel to the slowly forming smile. At the ear, Dusky traced it with her tongue and paused to give the lobe some intimate attention. The body beneath moved restlessly against her and she could feel her lover's heartbeat pick up. The pack leader moved upwards and placed soft kisses on closed eyelids, smiling at the surprised flutter that occurred there.

Shannon felt a comfortable weight on her body, holding her in the most delicious way. There was rustling and movement and then feather light touches on her face, tracing her nose and jaw, wetly investigating her ear. She writhed against the weight above, a tightening sensation in her belly. And then the redhead's eyelids were brushed, her nose, her chin. And then there was a pause.

The dark woman ceased her activity, her face hovering close to her lover's. She watched with heated curiosity to see what the older woman would do now. There was no doubt she was awake - the heartbeat, ragged breathing and slightly parted lips attested to it. The smaller body, wrapped in the sleepbag moved against her sensuously. "Wake up, preciada," she rumbled.

With a sign of disappointment, the courier opened royal blue eyes. Her face broke into a soft smile. "Mornin'," she mumbled. She tried to get her arms out of the sleepbag to rub the sleep from her eyes, but was unable - the tangled material and her lover's body made it all but impossible to move. Looking into Dusky's odd eyes, she relaxed. Not a bad place to be trapped, that's for sure.

Smiling, the pack leader lowered her head and rewarded Shannon with a hot and zesty kiss. One hand roamed northward to knead a firm buttock and the other headed south to bury fingers in redgold hair. Dusky felt the woman moan into her mouth as her body writhed insistently against her own.

After several minutes of exploring, Shannon could sense her lover pulling away. With the blood pounding in her body, she tried to prolong the contact. Her struggles to free herself increased, but Dusky was having none of it.

The dark woman rolled back over on her back, an armed draped tightly around the smaller woman. She began pulling back from the kisses, finishing with a final nibble on a full bottom lip. "You awake now?" she asked with a chuckle.

Shannon sighed in frustration. "Yes." She heard laughter and craned her neck. The blond soldier - Doughterty, her mind supplied - was drinking coffee by the riot car. He was obviously watching the two women as he leered and winked at her before making another comment to the group around him. The redhead blushed crimson in embarrassment and buried her head in her lover's neck. "Great," she mumbled.

"My, aren't you the shy one, preciada," Dusky said with a smile. She squeezed her lover in a hug. "Don't worry about it. He'll either learn not to be rude or he'll be dead."

"Dead?" Concerned, Shannon lifted her head to study the beatufiul tanned face below her. "You wouldn't kill him for that, would you?"

"Well..." the pack leader drawled. "Probably not." She grinned at the obvious relief. "He's just unaware of oru ways. If he stays, he'd better wise up, though. Otherwise, he'll be hurting for sure."

Shannon afforded a quick glance up at the rest of the pack. The only indication of change was Doughterty's grimace of pain as he held the back of his head and the glares from the other Red Wolves. Tank, Liz, and the second soldier had stayed out of it. "Oh," she said softly.

Dusky rolled to one side and released the smaller woman. "C'mon. Coffee's on and we need to keep moving." She rose and stretched before picking up her blanket, shaking it out, and folding it up.

As the two women approached the riot car, Delva shoved the blond man forward. "Doughterty wants to say something."

The pack leader accepted a cup of coffee from Liz and sipped it, all but ignoring the man.

After a rude poke at his shoulder, Doughterty mumbled, "Sorry about laughing like that."

Dusky handed her cup to the courier with a reassuring wink. She turned around and crossed her arms in front of her, staring with an impassive gaze at the blond man before her.

Long minutes passed and the soldier began to fidget, a flush of crimson rising from his open collar. He swallowed nervously, eyes flickering to the other people there. When the woman's eyes never wavered, he looked back, setting his jaw in anger.

And then the dark woman changed before him. Her gaze was no longer the stern, stoic ruler. It had become warmer, a little more inviting. "Not pleasant to be stared at, is it?" she asked softly.

The man's anger dissipated and he dropped his gaze in shame and confusion, shaking his head.

"In your culture you have houses, walls, doors and locks. In mine," and Dusky opened her arms to include everything around them. "In mine you have the road, wheels, maybe a tent. A camper or trailer if you're lucky. No doors to lock. No walls to hide behind." She reached forward and offered her hand. "Apology accepted."

Doughterty stared at the long fingers for a moment before accepting it and shaking hands. He looked up into her weird eyes and found an understanding smile. With a look of wonder, he returned it.

The pack leader turned away from the soldier and looked everybody else over. "Well, rations for breakfast and let's get going. The further from Bosie we are, the better off we'll be." She returned to Shannon and took back her coffee, wrapping an arm around the smaller woman's waist.

After a nutritious and disgusting meal of military rations, the group prepared to move on. Delva took over Shake's bike with the second soldier, Correa, behind him. Doughterty took over shotgun with Tank driving and Liz hanging out in the back of the riot car.

It was just beginning to really get light out, the greyness of dawning making way for the blue skies. Dark trees were beginning to become less of shadow and more of scraggly growth. The rest area had become home to several other vehicles in the night, though there had been an unspoken truce among the various refugees. A peace of sorts to get everyone through the night.

As Dusky stomped down on her bike to kick it over, the sky brightened considerably.

The illumination was so sudden and so strong, she could have sworn it was midday. Except that the shadows were all long and facing north. Several people turned and stared, some in shock and others in anger. There was quite a bit of cursing to be heard.

The dark woman turned and could see the top of a mushroom cloud over the hills. It was small and not as intense as it could have been, but it was enough to cause dread to form in her heart. "Let's get outta here," she ordered, reaching out for Shannon's arm to get her in place.

And then the Red Wolves left the rest area, the beginnings of a mass exodus of people fleeing for their lives from the tactical nuclear missile that had been unleashed on the city of Boise.

According to the Canadian Government Ministry today, any country willing to sign a non-agression pact with Canada and it's allying nations will receive much needed aid in the removal of the Courier Virus from computer systems. Also, the Pact will help those countries with skilled and non-skilled labor to bring them out of the twenty-first century dark ages that they have fallen into.

Spokesman Robert Bremerton states, "What has happened in America is a tragedy of the highest magnitude. It can easily be diverted. We were fortunate enough to be able to defeat the virus in our country and look forward to sharing that information with others. All we want is to live in a peaceful world with our neighbors."

Congratulations to two lucky individuals this month!

First off, Kenneth Shimizu has made the grade! He's transferring to our primary office in South Dakota to continue his hard work and dedication as the Midwest regional security director. Ken's been with our company for twenty-two years and has had an exemplary record. We were unable to get ahold of Ken for a few words, but wish him the best. Good one, Ken!!

Replacing him will be Ted Harrelson, formerly Ken's assistant. Ted's been working with Azteca for nine years and this is a major step up for him. "I'm looking forward to the challenge," he said. "Getting our systems virus free and back online is one of my priorities." When asked about the rumors that have been floating around the Pendleton Corporate office: "The allegations that Mr. Shimizu was forced to commit ritual suicide (seppeku) on his employer's office floor are greatly exaggerated. Ken's a great man and a good friend. I wish him all the best in the future."

While the field was nowhere near as full as she remembered from her childhood, Dusky was proud of the thirty or so survivors and recruits to the Red Wolf clan. She stood on a slight rise, surveying her people.

The bowl of the field was filled with vehicles, a couple of campers and a few tents. Liz and Tank had opted for a camper, preferring to protect their computer and tech gear from the elements. There was a tall pole in the center of the field with three sets of ropes dangling in the breeze.

Shake did a good job, she thought to herself. Lasted longer than the other two. Of course, they were gringos. It was to be expected. At least a little bit, she chuckled to herself. The two soldiers that had decided to stay with the clan had turned a little green when Delva had explained the Sun Dance to them, but they had toughed it out surprisingly well.

Silver/green eyes flickered to the small tent her uncle had been using during his recuperation. The elder was seated in a cracked plastic lawn chair, a small fire heating a pot, as he told tales to three wide-eyed children. His leg was still in a cast and would be for another couple of months. And the long, deep scar on his face was a permanent fixture, giving him the dangerous look he said he had always craved. Aside from that, he was healing quite nicely.

Her eyes wandered over the children with him. Two had the telltale features of Native Americans. One was white-blond with blue eyes, the son of one of Delva's soldiers. The other children belonged to the few members of the Pacific Tribes that had decided to join them on the road.

After leaving the Treasure Valley, the small pack moved north into the Rocky Mountains, planning on cutting west across Washington. In the Coeur d'Alene area they met up with the fifty fighters that Dusky had made arrangements with. It had only been a week, but it had felt like years since the Aryan war. With their help, the Wolves made it back to the west coast with relative ease. Upon hearing of what had happened, the Pacific Tribes had been very generous in their aid to the decimated tribe, giving them everything they needed to help replenish their losses. And, after two weeks, when the Wolves left they had four families and two warriors added to their ranks.

Of the four families, one was a medicine man trained in the rituals and magic of his people. This did not leave a dearth with thePacific Tribes. Richard's father had been a medicine man and had trained all three of his sons. While his elder brother stayed with the Pacific Tribes, Richard decided to take a chance with the Wolves, supplying them with the much needed level head of spirituality. He was of an age with Remy and the two elders had spent hours warming their bones by the fire, reminiscing of the before time of the twentieth century.

Dusky inhaled deeply, smelling the roasting meat from the cookfires. Now that the Sun Dance was completed, there would be a feast to celebrate. There would be drums and dancing and good food and laughter. After the summer of hell the Red Wolves had been through, it was going to be a welcome relief.

The dark woman felt a presence behind her and smiled to herself, not turning around. Seconds later, slim arms wrapped around her waist and she felt a head rest between her shoulder blades as the person molded their bodies together. Dusky rested her arm on top of one at her waist, wrapping the light and dark fingers together. "Preciada," she rumbled.

"Hi there," Shannon said, giving her lover a slight squeeze before moving around to settle next to her. She looked up with a smile. "Shake's doing good. Just finished the stitches and Richard's starting the tatt."

Dusky turned, gathering the redhead into her arms and peering at her. "And how are you?" she asked, thumb gently brushing the four small wolfprint tattoos decorating Shannon's face.

The courier winced a little at the contact. "They burn a little, but that's all." She grinned. "Actually, I kinda like 'em." Her face screwed into a scowl. "Makes me look wild and dangerous, don't ya think?" At the answering laugh, she grinned ruefully and slapped Dusky's arm. "Hey! You saying I don't look dangerous?"

The pack leader pulled her into a tight embrace, shaking with laughter. "No, no! I'd never say that!" As her chuckles abated, she continued, "You're very dangerous, preciada. You have my heart."

"And you have mine, princess," Shannon murmured back, enjoying the feelings of warmth and security that always seemed to accompany her when she was in her lover's arms.

They stood there for quite some time, wrapped up in each other. And then Shannon's stomach rumbled.

"C'mon, let's get you fed," Dusky said with a chuckle and a quick squeeze before releasing the smaller woman. "Don't want you fainting away from hunger tonight... Too much partying to do."

Shannon's blush subsided and she grinned. "Partying, eh? I think I'm gonna kinda like being a Red Wolf."

The two women walked towards the cookfire arm in arm.

In a bold move today, Congress indicted General Albert C. McAndrews on several charges of war crimes that were committed in the Boise Massacre last summer.

"The man had no right to bring tactical nukes into the fight," said Senator Jimmie Hannigan of Washington (Rep.) "There's nothing left but a sunken hole in the ground now! The half life alone is going to keep people from living anywhere in the Treasure Valley for thenext three thousand years!"

Neither Gen. McAndrews or his attorney, Daniel Cunningham, were available for comment.

Author's Note:

Thanks to all you folks who have been so patient regarding this tale. I know the last couple of weeks were hel - not only for the people waiting for the finish, but for me and the job hours and such. Not much of an excuse, but there ya have it.

Special thanks to Jett (in-house editor) and Garnet (outta-house editor.) They's the one's that helped me with all the technicalcrap that I missed.

I've included a glossary at the end of this.... For all those weird words from three different languages that I used. Don't speak a lick of any of 'em, so please be gentle in your critique of their usage. Got all my information from online dictionaries!

Redhawk
August 30, 1998
Updated December, 1998

SPANISH:

preciada - precious, possession - actually this was supposed to be an adjective.
puta - prostitute.
querida - dear, beloved.
gringa - foreigner.
niña - little girl.
vida - life, term of endearment.
senorita - young woman.

CAPOEIRA: dirivitive of Brazilian, is my guess.

malandro - tough guy, streeth tough, bad guy.
malaçia - trickery, double dealing.

CYBERPUNK:

chippin' in/out - joining/leaving.
input - girlfriend.
blacksuits - riot gear, cops.
Laca - Los Angeles, California spread.
flatline - to kill.
deck - computer.

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