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A Shepherd No MoreChapter 4 free porn video
"If I can have your attention," the green uniformed man said in Spanish, after touching the voice enhancing device around his neck. "I am Lieutenant Jacobs with the Confederacy Marines and this is an extraction."
It was my fifth one today. Following the announcement, there was the typical uptick in decibel volume—as desperation kicked in for numerous wannabe concubines.
"Where are we again?" I asked, looking around at the newest location, having recently emerged from the transporter.
"Oh, shit," my favorite marine sergeant swore behind me, "not another titty bar!"
It was indeed just that. There were three elevated dance platforms with the prerequisite stripper poles ... and strippers. Considering what was waiting for me up on the Pacific Princess, I have to say this display did nothing for me. The last two clubs we'd hit didn't do much for me either.
That, however, wasn't my concern. The Spanish was. "This is still El Paso, isn't it?"
Sergeant Davis glanced down at her tablet and swore again. "Worse, Juarez. What does that idiot think he's doing?" With a disgusted shake of her head, she ordered her squad to go monitor the perimeter.
The schedule clearly stated we were to head to Tucson, besides which it was contrary to extraction policy to hit multiple sites sequentially the same day in the same general location. Still, the ranking extraction officer—which Lieutenant Vernon Jacobs was—had broad leeway when it came to when and where. And the lieutenant seemed to have a penchant for strip clubs—and I'm not talking the high end variety either.
I had accompanied Decurion Sundberg for the first two extractions and that went relatively well. Our task was to tag along on with teams from the Andromeda and then the Northern Lights to see if we could pick up a bundle of free concubines to ship to Demeter on the Pacific Princess. In particular, we were looking for passed over low six males that would be suitable for the planetary citizen militia and could, potentially, test up to genuine Confederacy sponsor status at some point. In addition, I had the side task of filling up the concubine quota for myself, Gene, and Martin.
I must say, after those two extractions, I had done well on both fronts. Well, not exactly. We did great at the first priority, garnering 114 men for the Demeter militia. As to the second, I had Gene's and Martin's quotas filled but had still yet to fill any of my slots. Einar said I was too picky. Actually, that wasn't the case. I just couldn't see claiming anyone for myself who could avoid concubinage altogether by heading off to Demeter instead.
Anyway, I was able to siphon off three couples with young children—two for Gene, which filled out his quota, and one for Martin. Each couple had someone who had real sponsor potential; they just had no interest in military combat service. Finally, to round out Martin's crew, I found a couple of naïve coeds in San Antonio who I thought would adore him and that Diane would be able to handle.
After our two runs together, though, the decurion sent me off to fly solo with an extraction crew from the Orion, while he checked back in with his boss. Sadly, it proved to be a huge waste of my time. Well, not entirely. There was Sergeant Davis but that was about it. Since the Pacific Princess was nearly full and set to leave soon, she and one of her squads had been transferred over to the Orion. So, while we both had the unfortunate privilege of having to deal with Jacobs, we at least were able to do it together ... at the third strip club in a row ... in Juarez, Mexico.
All I could do was shake my head. Strip clubs were not target-rich environments for me or anyone, really—especially dives like this one. The ratio of women to men, for one thing, was all wrong—probably one woman for every nine or ten guys in the place. Secondly, only guys with low CAP scores tend to still frequent clubs like this anymore. I will admit, there did seem to be a few marginal volunteers here—just like at our previous stops—but that appears to have been by design, judging by how they all have interacted with our fearless leader.
In no time at all, the stages at our current location were put to full use. The available women—nearly all strippers and wait staff—were pretty much taking all comers in a free-for-all attempt to be selected. Even the lieutenant got in on the action, triple-teaming one woman with two of his other marines.
For me, the display was not so much erotic as it was pathetic. Even the crude line-ups of the slavery era, where African women would be lined up naked on the docks and sold off to the highest bidder, had to have had far more humanity and dignity than this. As I found myself doing a lot over the last few hours, I could only shake my head in disgust.
"What?" My marine companion asked over the din of the cheering and chanting crowd.
I glanced her way and then gestured with my head toward the spectacle. "Humanity at its finest," I jeered.
She nodded in agreement. We'd had this conversation before and nothing more needed to be said. The sergeant had spent nearly a year training and then fighting in hit and run attacks against the Sa'arm on Tulak, and nothing had demoralized her more than her present tour of duty doing extractions. She explained it in terms of having to watch that old movie Schindler's List over and over again. Each time you watch it, you get to see some people saved but you still feel like shit when it's over.
Turning away, I pulled out my small datapad and went through the names of the volunteers performing up on stage. Just as I suspected, pretty much all of Jacobs' new buddies had Grigorian's bad subscore combinations.
I answered the ship AI.
It took a bit to get used to, but when I shifted from one ship's extraction team to another, I also shifted AIs. They were pretty much interchangeable but each one did have a slightly different tone and feel, so it took a little bit to make the adjustment. Davis told me that calling them by their ship name helped immensely. It did.
Suddenly there was a sharp squeeze of my arm. Looking up, I met the sergeant's concerned gaze.
"Garvis and Atkins are saying the interdiction field still isn't up," she hissed, motioning toward the door.
I took a quick glance around and noticed the number of guys talking away on their cell phones rather than taking in the proceedings. Jacobs and his cronies, meanwhile, were balls deep in another desperate woman. This was not good.
I could see Jacobs' face and knew immediately when he got the message. He turned to look at me over the crowd, not to mention the girl he was pumping away in, and spoke directly to my implant.
I don't think he slowed a stroke the whole time.
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