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His phone rang.
It only took a second of indecision before he answered it. He pressed the screen with his thumb and rose from his squat next to his bed and put the phone to his ear. After a quick glance at the open floorboards exposing his secret safe, he sat on the edge of his bed.
“Director.” He pursed his lips. Damn. The last thing he wanted was to listen to this bullshit.
“Special Agent Stygian. Now is not the time for you to take matters into your own hands. Are you aware what has occurred on Earth within the last hour?” The mechanical voice masking Obsidian’s natural tones was in full force.
Claude clenched his teeth. Just once, he’d appreciate it if the director trusted him enough to use his natural voice. “Yes, I’m well aware all transportation is at a standstill, and most power grids are out. What does that have to do with me? I’m grounded in a desk job, remember?”
“Click this link and observe.”
Another text pinged.
Claude tapped the link.
A grainy video played. It looked like it had been shot with an old-time camera, not a digital one.
With increasing horror, he witnessed the violent militia sprouting up throughout the country.
Chaos reigned, internet accessibility was spotty, and utilities manned by computers remained offline—including the world’s nuke arsenal.
“As you can see, Special Agent”—the director’s tinny voice continued without emotion—“now is not the time for you to abandon Earth and head to an alien base on the moon.”
How the fuck did the director know something Claude had decided only a couple of minutes ago? An icy shiver ran down his spine. He glanced around the bedroom, hoping to spot some type of camera or recording device. While he may be well-versed in the various equipment the CIA used, he was sure there were things he wasn’t privy to.
Screw this. The only way to protect Earth was to go where the enemy was and stop them. Up there was the advanced alien technology he needed—tools to stop what the aliens were doing on Earth.
“You can always send some FEAR agents with me.” If the primary agents of First Encounter Alien Resistance team backed him up, they’d put those aliens out of business in no time.
“Unacceptable. There are plans and contingencies in place that would be disrupted if you approached the Akurns at FarDeep Base. You must cease this intention of yours immediately and report back to headquarters.”
Claude couldn’t help his chuckle. “I don’t suppose you’ll fill me in on what those plans and contingencies are.”
A slight pause. “You haven’t been cleared for that information.”
Well, what a surprise. From the beginning, he and his FEAR team had been kept in the dark more often than not. When they made a bit of progress, his superior would redirect them. Suspicion made his brows crease. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear you were working with the aliens. Are you an Akurn?”
The metallic sigh was genuine. “I assure you, I’m anything but an Akurn. I’ve kept my identity secret from you and your team for a reason. My superiors and I decided long ago it was necessary in order to avoid infiltration by not only those aliens, but anyone who could work with them.”
Claude clicked the speakerphone and put it on the bed next to him. “That’s a weak argument.” From the dresser, he pulled out some sturdy work clothes better suited for his trip to the moon than the sweats he wore. “You know, I’ve been through a lot lately. I believe I need some downtime. Let the record show that I’m officially putting in my notice for three weeks’ vacation. Effective immediately.”
He buttoned the khakis and went back to the bed to disconnect the call. Just before he reached the glass face, his hand stopped. And not by his intention.
“Agent Stygian, I order you to...”
Beads of sweat dotted Claude’s forehead as he struggled the last few centimeters to disconnect the call. He pressed the button just before the director finished his sentence. Who said he had to obey an order he didn’t hear? He shook his hands to work the numbness out. What the hell was that? It was as if somebody took control of him to stop him from doing something. Or, more than likely, they’d programmed him to react like that whenever the director spoke certain words.
Fucking asshole. He’d be damned if he let the director call him back. He powered off the phone and dropped it into a pocket on his pants. He tugged on a thick cotton T-shirt, then pulled a black polo shirt over it. Once his sturdy boots were on, he put the rest of his meager supplies into various pockets.
Except for the device that would transport him to the alien moon base. The one he used the last time he visited there. He flipped the small oval device up and down and contemplated his next move. He’d secure his house the best he could before attaching the alien apparatus to the full-length closet-door mirror.
As he let his mind focus on the moon-base room, an unexpected image of the beautiful Akurn woman, Amata, flashed. He shook his head, willing the picture away. He put a black skullcap on his head, then he was ready to go. He might not be the first man to step on the moon, but he never dreamed he’d ever be one of that elite group. No matter the outcome, that was something no one could take away from him. And he was okay with that.
~Zamush~
Blood roared in Zamush’s ears. Heavy need pounded through him in a violent storm of conflicting emotions. As he struggled with intense sensations, he tried to mentally read the woman as she drew his blood. With each of her swallows, lust, sharp and clear, tightened in him. Rational thought escaped, gone like snow melting in the blazing sun. He pulled her close, aligning his swollen cock to the soft pillow of her flat stomach.
She moaned as she licked the wounds to stimulate blood flow.
