Arlene and JeffChapter 230
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Arlene And JeffChapter 129 free porn video
Just inside the entrance to the ski lodge, Jeff and Kayla stood talking to Lieutenant Mayfield (the security Lieutenant) and a training Sergeant from the base. To a casual observer, the check-in office of the once ski lodge would not appear to have changed very much. Someone who knew what they were looking for, however, would notice that the profusion of floor to ceiling glass of the office had been replaced with armor glass, and there were now extra monitors behind the counter. The command center was deeper in the building, but even here, there was enough equipment to monitor what went on around the building and the surrounding area. One of the computers maintained room designations, but now it was for Security and the teams. There would be no visiting skiers, but Jeff had been thinking about repairing the slopes so that off duty personnel could ski.
As the four continued chatting, Jeff took a seemingly casual step to the side and quickly put a hand out. Kayla hissed in a breath when there was a deep-voiced curse and the seemingly empty air shimmered for a second to leave General Whitworth standing there glaring at them.
"You can take your hand off my shoulder now, Colonel. I don't think either of our sexual orientations have changed that much," he said in a clipped voice.
Jeff snatched his hand back as if the General's shoulder had suddenly become red hot. Then after a chuckle from everyone for the weak humor, "How in the hell did you do that?" the General demanded with a frown. Without waiting for an answer, he went on, "No one can see us with the camouflage activated. If it were not for the helmets, we wouldn't know where any of us are. You can't even see yourself. It's weird as hell trying to walk around without being able to see any part of your body. You can't even see your hand when you reach out to open a door."
Holding back a grin at the startled General, "I didn't know who it was, General. I must have just heard you, or something," Jeff lied.
Whitworth tried to remember if he had moved just before Jeff reached out. I guess I did move closer to him, but still ... he never ceases to amaze me. We can't even see each other, dammit. Without our helmet's friend or foe capabilities we would be stepping on each other's feet. Well, we would be stepping on them more frequently, he mentally corrected himself. How in the fuck did he know I was standing here?
Jeff wasn't going to tell the General that he could hear his heartbeat and breathing, and Jeff knew the General surely didn't want to know about his stomach and bowel sounds. Telling Whitworth that he (Jeff) had also smelled him surely wouldn't be very tactful, either. The Prime's senses had become so acute that he had complained to Little One and she eventually taught him how to set the threshold level of his senses higher when he wanted to. He loved the fragrances of his women, but a sweating man was bad enough with a normal ability to smell, with Jeff's enhancements, it became something that he didn't want to even think about. Also, he used to love the smells of his wives' perfumes, but with his abilities on maximum, the odors quickly became nauseating. Although he tried to hide it, his wives had somehow picked up on his displeasure and now wore only tiny amounts of perfume. Arlene had kidded him about his sense of smell, teasing him about how pussy must smell with his enhanced abilities. He had quickly assured her that he loved the smell of pussy, even with his senses at their maximum.
Whitworth looked at Jeff, wondering. He always understates — downplays anything he has done. How in the hell did he know I was here? the General asked himself yet again. "As I've already told your team and the training sergeant, I'm not here as a General today, Colonel; I'm here to learn."
The instructor spoke up, "I'm in the process of developing a training program in the use of the camouflage, and I assure you at this point in the program's development, I know very little more than any of you do about the suits. We'll make our mistakes together, then I'll go from there as I begin to design the training program for the other teams."
The General let out another chuckle. "Well, from what I've experienced in the short time I have had the camouflage on, it will take a while to get used to it, and I'm certainly not there yet. I almost busted my ass walking down a flight of stairs. Simple things become frustrating — at least to me. Even with the helmets, when we're in close proximity to each other, we tend to bump our buddy or step on someone's feet. The scale on our faceplates shows us together if we're closer than five feet. In other words, with the camouflage activated you can't tell if your buddy is five feet from you or practically touching your shoulder — or walking into you."
When conversation lagged for a moment the instructor said, "We have equipment ready for the two of you, Colonel."
"Sounds like we're going to have an interesting day. Lead on, Sergeant."
The camouflage consisted of a thin, very stretchy mesh not unlike a fish net. Each tendril of the material was hair thin and stretchy — extremely stretchy, and very tough. The electronics were built into the mesh itself. Getting into the suit was accomplished in generally the same manner that a diver would don a wet suit, except it was more difficult and required a second person to secure the seam in the back and make the connections. By the time the suit was in place, the hatchwork of the mesh had stretched to approximately a half inch.
Walking in the suit produced an odd sensation as the hair-thin mesh stretched and relaxed. It wasn't exactly cumbersome or uncomfortable; it was just — different. Each weapon or piece of equipment the trooper wore had its own specially designed smaller piece of mesh. A helmet software update was the first thing on the agenda in order for the various pieces of equipment and the wearer's suit to be controlled properly by the helmet.
Although the General and several of the troopers had been "playing around" with the camouflage for a while, class officially started with a lecture on how to put on the camouflage, shortly accompanied by five practice sessions which proved there were quirks to be learned. The instructor turned the lights out and they did it again — well, sort of. Jeff, frustrated, fumbled for the two small openings for his feet in the fist-sized wad of mesh that reminded him more of a clumped piece of spider web than anything else. Those two tiny openings that expanded to accept his feet were devilishly hard to find in the dark, but he refused to use his enhanced vision to cheat.
Minutes later, the instructor turned the lights on after Kayla keyed the channel and announced she was ready. Jeff had managed to get his feet in, but was having difficulty pulling the suit up his torso, mainly because he had it on backward. Kayla not only had the suit on, but she had also correctly put the camouflage on all her equipment and activated the suit to turn the equipment and her invisible. With a shimmer, she again stood visible before them as she tried unsuccessfully to hold back a grin.
"How in the world did you manage to get it on that fast, let alone get it fastened and the connections secured in the back?" Carter blurted out.
"Bras," Kayla replied with a chuckle.
There was a snigger or two from the women in the unit, then the General burst out with a guffaw. Turning to Jeff who now had the suit turned around correctly but was stymied by the connection on the back, "Maybe she can help you practice that at home," Whitworth said.
"What? How to put on a bra?" someone sniggered from the back.
The General thought that was really funny.
When the laughter died down, Jeff didn't feel too bad about not getting his suit on in the dark. Two of his team were barely past getting their feet started. Another one did have the suit on and fastened, but he had not gotten around to any of his equipment yet. The two who were behind hadn't tried to put theirs on backward like he had, though.
"Alright," the instructor said, "Let's start all over again, but this time we'll use the light enhancement of our helmets. I just wanted to make a point about trying to put the suit on in the dark. There are problems with the camouflage that we've encountered so far, and probably other things that we'll find later on — hopefully not in a combat situation, though." Turning back to Kayla, "Lieutenant Fisher, well done, Ma'am. Later today, I would like for you to demonstrate your technique for us, if you don't mind."
"I'll be glad to, Sergeant."
Later, fully suited up, their first exercise was outside in the snow. Even though they couldn't see each other, their footprints and other impressions (putting a knee down, etc.) certainly showed up in the deep snow. With the friend or foe function of the helmets turned off, it was as if each trooper were alone on the mountainside. Being alone with multiple footprints suddenly appearing in the snow, produced a truly eerie effect.
After a quick meal, they continued their training inside. Kayla bumped hard into one of the team as they practiced building entry. Most of the time, the team could all go through a doorway in seconds without running into each other. With everyone invisible, they somehow still managed it. Kayla's frustration was beginning to show after she bumped into a trooper again on the next entry, causing both of them to stumble.
"Damn," she muttered, "I feel like a klutz."
"It's training," the team Sergeant said a moment later as they turned the camouflage off. "We've done this hundreds of times. We can't see each other with the camouflage activated, but we still have all those training entries to fall back on, not to mention the real entries. We know what our teammates are going to do. Tell you what. You continue to come through last. I'll have the person in front of you give you a nudge on the radio to key you when to go. We'll see how that works. And remember, Lieutenant, you don't have to do this. You're the Colonel's personal security. This is an off-world team. The best off-world team there is," he finished, proudly.
Kayla smiled and agreed with the Sergeant. I know he's right. I just don't have the training. My husband would never let me go off-world on one of the team's missions, anyway. He would think it was too dangerous to let one of his wives go. But I'm going to train with these people every chance I get. If my husband goes off-world with them again, he's going to be in for a shock when he tries to keep me home.
Next came weapons. The training Sergeant, never having been to the Security team's outdoor range, had one of the Security Sergeants lead them. Following a well-beaten path through the deep snow, they wound up at the base of a small canyon on the mountainside. At some point in the distant past, a section of the mountain had broken loose, the area sliding down the mountain for a couple of hundred feet or so. The result was a fairly level fissure two hundred feet wide perpendicular to the slope of the mountain, a quarter of a mile long and approximately one hundred feet deep on one end, sloping to twenty-five feet on the other end. Dave's crew had cut rough steps in the frozen ground on the shallow end to provide easier access. The result was a nice place for a medium length rifle range. The range was well hidden in the wilds of the mountainside, and the depth of the fissure helped to muffle the sound of the gunfire.
Firing a weapon they couldn't see was more than a bit strange for everyone. The laser sights generally solved that problem, particularly for close-in work. Out past a hundred meters or so, the laser dot became too hard to see in the daylight. Still, the initial alignment of the invisible weapon was difficult, but once a trooper could see his or her laser dot somewhere on the target, it was easy to refine the alignment to go for a center of mass shot, or a headshot.
Once they switched to the pulse rifles, things became eerie again. Firing an invisible weapon that produced practically no sound, yet devastated the target, was odd.
They spent the rest of the day on the firing range, practicing. Since acquiring the target was the most difficult thing because they could not see what they were pointing, the training Sergeant focused their practice on snapping the weapon up, finding the target and firing. Kayla had been accustomed to a good showing on the range. She wasn't as good as Jeff's team, but she had a talent and knew it. Unfortunately for her, experience was something she didn't have, and the team did. No matter how hard she tried, every member of the team did better, and much faster, plus, they seemed to do it with ease.
Her frustration built. As the Sergeant called out the lapsed times, and Kayla muttered a curse under her breath, she felt her husband's hands come down gently on her shoulders as he stood close behind her. She felt his breath on her ear as he quietly spoke. "Baby, the team has thousands of hours of practice, and most of the members have been on the team for years. They're the best of the best or they wouldn't be here. For some of us, someone getting off a shot before our enemy did is the sole reason we're here today. Reaction time with your weapon is a lot like practicing blocks in a martial arts class. You practice a particular block thousands of times while your partner throws punches at you. After a while, that pathway is 'burned' into your brain until you don't have to think about the block, it just becomes reflex. You're still at the point of having to think before you bring the weapon up and acquire the target. A few more hundred hours and it will start to be reflex. The team isn't thinking; they're reacting. And before you even mention, it, they're well aware of where you are in your training. They won't belittle you, not even in their minds. They've been where you are now. Just relax and let your mind go blank. Don't try to anticipate when the target will appear. When it does, snap your weapon up and fire. One day you will realize that the reflex is there. I promise."
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