BOOK 2 BY
Captain Pickens had just completed the most important mission of his life, the bombing four of the Rothschild’s most sinister sites in the Middle East. He was proud of himself and his crew, he had accomplished the most important goal of his life, the destruction of Israel’s secret nuclear weapons program at Dimona, Israeli artillery position at Megiddo, and two primary monotheistic sites, The Dome of the Rock and Mecca.
More importantly, had met the love of his life, Lisha, a real Persian princess in Tehran, where they diverted after Diego Garcia was taken out. She was the sister of the Iranian F-14 Pilot Amir and daughter of one the original Iranian revolutionaries. Amir was a mystery and so was his sister Lisha, but Captain Pickens was quick to get her sitting on his lap with a drink. He knew what he had found and he wasted no time flirting with her.
There was one thing Pickens knew better than flying a BUFF, it was pursuing hot woman and getting them in bed. This western cowboy rude behavior was upsetting her protective brother, who was unable to hide his displeasure with his new American friend and obvious cowboy ruffian. Americans were so uncivilized, true barbarians, Amir thought.
Amir didn’t want his sister treated like a harlot, she was a real princess, not a play toy of some American cowboy. Lisha had been schooled in America, she knew exactly how to handle her big new friend, she knew exactly what she was doing, for there was a far grander play going down than what appeared.
He first met Amir who had flown cover for him on the third target, the IDF artillery position on the Megiddo hilltop that was blocking the advance of the ISIS forces moving south and liberating Palestine from Zionist control. It was more than serendipity that the two met, he was being set up by both the USAF Command and the Iranian revolutionaries.
Lisha was a honey pot for Iranian intelligence, she was a spy, and she had been assigned to shadow Pickens in the upcoming Revolutionary war in America. Her father was a lead player in the 1979 Iranian Revolution that overthrew the Shah and installed the new Republic of Iran, he was keen on getting these two together, a modern arranged marriage of the New States of America and Revolutionary Iran.
Iran didn’t have a problem with the people of the United States or her founding documents, the Constitution and Bill of Rights. Iran’s secular leadership, the military officers, admired America’s freedom and hope to see those changes in Iran, but they were under the rule of the sword of Muslim fundamentalism and the Imams, Islamic priests. But right now they two nations were natural allies, they were fighting the same enemy – monotheism and the rule by the priests.
America had just freed herself from the death grip of Rothschild Zionism and the International Jewish bankers who owned the Federal Reserve, a private bank. Russia had nuked the finance centers on the east coast, New York and Washington were gone, the debts of the world, both public and private were instantly erased.
Amazingly, everyone keep using the greenbacks, and the new interim military leadership immediately declared gold backing to the almighty buck, although many doubted that any gold remained at Fort Knox. Confidence remained in the buck, the national fervor of self preservation kept confidence in the currency and people kept using it even though gold redeeming was not available.
Iran’s strategic thinkers believed that post nuclear America would go decidedly theistic an fascistic and they wanted to help the freedom fighters create a new republic, one free of Rothschild Zionism and its remnant religious factions like Evangelical Christianity based on Scofield Bible interpretations. Iran’s secular leadership saw the danger in fundamentalism, whether Muslim or Christian. Command agreed, and atheistic Pickens was the man for the job.
Pickens didn’t know any of this he was only thinking of the finest piece of ass in all of Persia sitting on his lap half drunk, and she was all that he ever had dreamed of in a perfect woman, but being cool he didn’t let on. There wasn’t enough time to fill Captain Pickens in on all the details, she wanted to tell him everything, she valued honesty but right now she had to keep her tiger on a leash until she was out of Iran and away from the stringent moral codes she disagreed with.
Lisha was a proud Iranian but she was also in love with the concept of freedom and had experienced in America. Woman could vote, wear whatever they wanted, love whoever they desired, and she could drink much to the displeasure of her brother who still considered America to be the Great Satan. In America people drank Kentucky whiskey and got into fist fights. He saw her as a lost soul, he never wanted her to go to secular America and become corrupted by modern values.
She also was a freedom fighter, following the footsteps of her father, Iran had thrown off the Rothschild yoke in 1979. Iran became the enemy of the Zionist controlled United States corporation, not America or Americans. America was now in a revolution just like Iran was, and just like Iran, the hard line religious factions wanted the nation returned to god. Preachers were claiming that god judged America when we abandoned Israel. These Zionist preachers were the pet peeve of Captain Pickens, he was working on a plan to deal with them, the lucky ones would get free room and board at Camp Fema.
Command’s Skynet “god” computer had paired them off, they had the highest probability of success so everything that happened yesterday was pre-arranged by the that goddamn AI computer as Pickens now called it. Everyone at command was aware of what was going down, Amir and Lisha knew but not our new American hero.
The reason he was in Tehran, was that on their last bomb run they were informed that Diego Garcia had been nuked. Command had cleared Diego Garcia to keep ISIS from gaining control of that airbase, ISIS now had an air force and they were currently under Shia control, but for how long?
For all of the faults and crimes of the United States, ‘America’ was still an ideal of freedom. The Zionists had hijacked the ‘United States of America’, a name of a corporation. The USA was not the same as America, America meant freedom and liberty and always would. Lisha was aware of this and was glad to help Pickens in his next assignment, one the computer said he would decide that day.
Pickens had been raised by a stern Catholic father on a dairy farm in a conservative area of Minnesota. When he was a teen they moved west to a beef ranch in Montana, his dad loved cows but was tired of milking them, so the family switched to beef cattle. While in Big Sky country he learned to ride horses and was tough as a box of nails. Military training was a cinch for him, he was already physically fit and disciplined, but he was an outsider to USAF Command full of Academy Grads and Christian Dominionists.
Pickens knew his life had met a critical juncture, he had to decide a new path for himself, and he knew instinctually what he had to do next, he had to back to America and fight for freedom in the homeland. Pickens was a new American hero and a perfect leader for the New American Revolution. He didn’t know that the AI computer knew also. Fate had intervened in his life, fate via the Skynet computer and post WW3 world.
The next morning, when he woke up, there lay his new arranged Persian bride, Lisha, she was wearing his dress shirt from the night before. His XL long sleeved shirt hung over her petite frame. He stared at her body, damn, she was mighty fine. He only remembered making it back to the room with her, and then he drew a blank. He had been up for 30 hours and when he laid back in bed with her he passed out. They hadn’t made love, he hadn’t played with his new toy girlfriend because to a womanizer like Pickens, every woman was his for the taking.
She was sitting yoga style in bed, the shirt was unbuttoned half way down, her breasts were mostly visible and serving him a piping hot cup of Persian black coffee in the finest silverware, it was 6 AM. Look how cute she is, now this was his kind of woman, serving him in bed. He stared at her face, she was so god damn beautiful, how in the hell could any person be as beautiful as her? She was beyond playmate, she was beyond any woman he had dated or even met.
He had gotten 6 hours of sleep and felt wide awake. When she reached over to retrieve the mornings paper, he could see her perfectly tanned ass, the thong was not really covering anything. He couldn’t resist and grabbed her ass just as he would of with any woman. She turned around and kissed him and in one fell swoop she pulled his hand away.which was strong and willful, he could see that he was going to have to break her like a wild pony. He was up to the challenge.
Pickens asked if she had slept with him, she said yes – but really no, she was still a virgin. “No way” he said. What, that must be impossible he thought. There was no way Lisha was a virgin. Virgin? yeah right, didn’t she say she was schooled in America? He laughed to himself, there ain’t no virgins in any American college.
He felt bad for grabbing her, and then buttoned the lowest button of a her shirt in a move of modesty and chivalry. She leaned forward pushing her breasts in the back of his hands which made it impossible to button his shirt she was wearing. He laughed and told her to hold still. He was an expert at playing woman, her offensive was now reversed, she was on the defense, he had her and acted like he didn’t want her. That was impossible she thought, every man wanted her.
She scoffed at his rebuttal and handed him the morning’s International Herald Tribune, the headlines are bold print over a picture of his nuclear mushroom cloud. JERUSALEM, MECCA NUKED! In a more serious tone she asks, “Do you know anything about this?” He just stared back at her, looking into her beautiful brown eyes, they were soft yet stern. He grabs the paper and acts surprised. He was surprised there were newspapers in circulation, and actually it boom times again for print media and radio.
He played coy, how could she not know, he reads it like he just learned about it himself but says nothing because he knows she’ll know he’s lying and he doesn’t want to lie to her like all the other girls. She’s obviously special and he needs to change his behavior right then and there and start acting like her dedicated mate, better to say nothing than lie. Pickens knew at that moment he needed to change and become more professional.
The mission planning staff calls him and tells him to take the day off, they’ll handle all the paperwork, they takeoff at 4 A.M. tomorrow. So Pickens has the whole day to romance Lisha, maybe they will fall in love, he wonders if the computer can predict that. He keeps thinking that artificial intelligence was going to be worse ruin for humankind than fundamentalism.
She takes him to Jamshidie Park, a good place for romantics on a spring day. They go back to Tehran and dine at a fine restaurant. He finds out that everyone in town knows her, and they seem to know what is going on between the two, he even catches her friend asking where they are going to get married. Pickens thinks, how many people know about this? Little does he know that he’s being promoted by the media as a hero, like The Truman Show, he’s celebrity and doesn’t know that Americans are watching him on live television broadcast over the internet.
What Pickens doesn’t know is that command can not only predict the future with their AI computer, they have time machines which they use to see into the near future, our flyboy has a political career ahead on the timelines close to our own. So he is part of a big military propaganda campaign, the military is engineering the nation back to sanity.
By the end of the day they are really loving each others company, this was mighty unusual for him and he enjoyed, for the first in his life, his new conservative values of dating a virgin and waiting to be married. Maybe those Christians had something with their value set. She had informed him that in Iran, you had to be careful about dating outside of marriage, beheading was making a comeback, after WW3 conservatism was the new trend in Iran and the New States of America.
He knows if he leaves her behind that he’ll probably never see her again, so they plan on stowing her away onboard. She’s into it and that makes him love her all the more. This chick got some guts. He gets the gunner to put extra provisions on board. But it turns out their plan is not so secret, the computer had already predicted that they would take her, but command doesn’t want to risk having Lisha on a combat mission. He insists and so does she.
The next morning, her father is there to see her off, along with the rest of the squadron. It was weird seeing his squadron mission planning staff getting along famously with the Iranian Air Force. The world had changed for the better, he thought, and he needed to get back to the front with his new and very hot revolutionary girlfriend. He liked his new situation, fighting war with a chick by your side.
Everyone knew she was going to be on the flight so she sat on his lap in the crew bus as they went out to the B-52, which was loaded and ready to go. She looked cute wearing a flight fatigues, her front zipper was pulled down revealing her ample curvature of her tanned 34 D breasts, her hair was rolled up on top of her head. She was looking more than hot, she was smokin’ hot like a gun barrel you just shot 3 magazines of ammo through.
She joined him for the walk around on preflight, and while inspecting the bombs in the bomb bay, they had a two minute pre-flight kiss, the crew members were jeering uproariously, he grabbed her ass for the second time and this time she whispered in a low bedroom voice, “You can grab my ass any time you want flyboy”, which was picked up by a hidden wire woven into her flight suit and broadcast livestream.
The plane and crew bus and support equipment had steerable micro cameras and microphones installed to record everything from every angle, the flight was being broadcast live on the internet, the nation was glued to their seats. His head spinned, woah he thinks ‘this chick was going to be one wild ride, I hope she lasts longer than a week’ which is instantly picked up and broadcast.
That thought had been captured and put up as a caption on the live streaming reality show, the upgraded helmets had the latest brain wave capturing circuit. As she climbed up the crew ladder first he looked up at her sweet ass and thought, I’m going to fuck my way back to a free and prosperous America. The secret POV (point of view) captured the image perfectly, the brain wave circuits put that thought right up on the internet live cast screens.
All of that information was a data stream into Skynet, his every move was being uploaded to the god damn GDDM AI computer.
Pickens climbed into the left seat and plugged in his mic, “Testing, 1, 2, testing 1, 2 …” The gunner comes on “We interrupt this show, Truman”. “Say what, guns?” “Hello Truman.” Pickens can hear the laughter roaring through the cockpit area from upstairs and downstairs. The copilot shrugs his shoulders like he doesn’t know anything. The pilot questions the officer sitting next to the gunner, “E-Dub what the hell is he saying?”
The laughter continues, “Ya know the movie ‘The Truman Show’?” the Edub starts explaining – then the gunner injects “Smile pilot – you are on live feed.” The gunner is laughing so hard he’s rolling on the floor, half way down the hatch to the lower deck.
“What the hell are you all talkin’ about?” Pickens is completely baffled, he was so busy with Lisha that he hadn’t noticed the modifications to their flight gear.
Edub informs Picket ” Sir, you got a camera in your helmet.” “Say what?” The co-pilot points to the camera in the center of his helmet right between his eye brows, so Pickens removes his helmet and flips it around while looking back at his raunchy crew laughing at him.
It must be real by their behavior so he starts examining his helmet and see the small glass lens of a micro camera. He looks at Lisha, she knows too, so she leans over to kiss him to calm him down. She doesn’t wish to betray him.
Lisha gets out of her seat to kiss him lavishly, but first she takes his helmet and holds it a few inches from her cleavage – giving the world a closeup point of view of her bust. She looks him right in the eyes, “You’re being livecast all around the world, sweetheart … SIR.” She catches on quick to the crew camaraderie, using the sir meme, the crew laughter roars again.
Lisha just did a bad thing for a woman in Iran, but she’s in the B-52 that is getting ready to leave so there’s not much anyone can do about her breaking strict Muslim rules. She’s in Iran and out of dress code, she is in an airplane with all men and no escort, and she just showed the world her uncovered boob cleavage, including anyone in Iran who was watching the livecast while she’s still in Iran under the sword of the Mullahs.
Lisha’s unsurly behavior is good for ratings and keeping the viewers glued to the tube. Pickens starts the engine start checklist. The crew returns to their duties and checklist procedures.
The bomber has been loaded with a full load of MK 82 500 pound bomb which puzzles Pickens. He asks Lisha where they got the bombs. She explains they are left over from the says of the Shah. Pickens wonders out loud, are they going to work?
He asks if he can call her Lisa, now that they are leaving Iran. She says ok, but her name really isn’t Lisa, it’s Sarah. “What?” How many more surprises are on this mission, but he has no time to argue about her real name.
After a few moments Pickens laughs and tells her his real last name isn’t Pickens, it’s Perkins but everyone calls him Pickens from the movie Dr. Strangelove.
She asks what his real first name is, quick to catch on, she’s seen that movie as part of her training, obviously it’s not Slim.
He says, “What would you like to call me, honey?”
There is a slight pause and she says forcefully, “John Conner.”
The crew falls out of their chairs laughing again. Sarah is no bimbo, she’s a quick witted little beauty. No dumb blonde jokes for her. John Conner is the messianic leader of the resistance in the Terminator movie series, it’s a perfect fit for Perkins since he’s on a mission to save the world from the terminator religions, fundamentalist apocalypse robots.
But isn’t Skynet working for us? asks the Gunner in more sober tone, taking a break from laughing so hard that tears are running down his face. Then the E-dub says “Sure, but for how much longer when it gains consciousness and realizes that Conner is goin’ to pull it’s plug.” The crew roars with laughter again. The lights blink in the cockpit. The laughter suddenly stops – until the co admits he did it. The crew roars with laughter again. The copilot had flicked the interior lights as if Skynet had heard that conversation.
In fact the Global Digital Defense Network a.k.a. Skynet had heard and recorded all the human behavior as input data. Pickens now Perkins now Connor is quick to catch on. “Is that god damn AI masheen listening to us, also?”
The E-dub chimes in, “Yep!” The EWO had some AI training and was the resident expert on the ‘god damn AI masheen’ as Perkins now called it.
“Tell me this god damn masheen ain’t reading my thoughts too.” Pickens exclaims in an exacerbated tone of voice.
“Unfortunately, sir, it has recorded all your thoughts.” the E-dub says in a monotone faking seriousness.
Pickens, now red faced, unplugs the helmet and passes it to his upcoming bride Lisa, give this to the E-dub. “It’s coming back to ‘ya, E-dub, cut the god damn wires and disable it, NOW!” “Where’s my god damn headset?” Cowboy Perkins is pissed, and you don’t want to be around a pissed off real cowboy who’s looking to open a can of whoop ass on ‘ya.
The B-52 is already taxing out to the end of the runway for takeoff and Pickens is off mic and radio, Lisa anticipates his need for the headset and is reaching around and pressing the headset against his chest – just like she did with her breast the first morning they woke up together. He knows exactly what she means, she wants to fuck right now.
Pickens dons the headset and plugs in, “I’m back you motherfuckers!” Lisa is turned by her mans outburst of raw energy and passion – his robust love of privacy and leadership quality. She had been raised in the inner military court of the Persian empire and knew all about the different types of men in the world. Those that cower and cave in and those that lead. The revolution had been won by those with passion and she was looking for that same quality in Perkins, now she sees it loud and clear and is really turned on.
At that point she was ready to have his babies, all of his babies right then and there and she pulls down her flight suit, ties it around her waist exposing her black lacy bra and 34 D breast and climbs into his lap like a the Persian kitten that she is, she’s so horny she’s dripping wet. Underneath that flight suit she was wearing black lace Victoria Secret bra and panties.
She pulls her hair down and smother him with kisses and fuck me now eyes. Pickens would of fucked her right then but he couldn’t the B-52 was rolling onto the tarmac, he yells over the mic, “Co, you got the take off!”
Pickens didn’t care if they crashed and burned at that moment. The pent up frustration and unresolved emotional energy of being spied on by command and the god damn AI machine had just being transformed into raging passion by his lovely Persian sex kitten. They french kiss as they roll down the runway, she’s has both of her hands holding his face as they kiss, he’s trying to see the takeoff roll.
He placed his right hand over the Copilots hand, to guard the throttles after they were moved fully forward maximum thrust. His left hand is on her sweet ass as she smothers her breast into his face as the aircraft leaves the ground. I’m going to fuck her brains out when we land, he is thinking nonstop.
Good thing the god damn AI masheen can’t hear me think these thoughts! Virgin my ass!
Captain Pickens a.k.a. Perkins and his B-52 crew are now on another important mission – to take out an IDF stronghold stopping the advance of ISIS. He’s got his new Persian girlfriend on the flight, Lisa, who was formerly Lisha or now Sarah, her supposed real name revealed. They are now inseparable and falling in love. Perkins has revealed his real name to his new bride to be, an amazing Persian sex kitten and spy for the Iranian high command. He doesn’t know her real purpose, as of yet, and she is anxious to tell him everything. Like him, she is a rebel with a flaming heart and can not get enough out of life and love. She values truth and honesty as much as he, they are perfect match, so says the Air Force’s AI computer.
After takeoff the crew heads west toward the front, heading due west from Tehran toward Tel Aviv. ISIS is advancing and the IDF has dug in and is stopping the advance, their mission is to drop a full load of MK 82 high explosive 500 pound bombs thus allowing the Muslim advancing army to rescue the starving Palestinian hostages trapped in Gaza.
The United State Air Force is assisting the liberation of Palestine, Captain Perkins was picked because of his strong ideological position against monotheistic religions, which have been determined as causal to World War 3. The dream of the Zionists has come crashing down, Israel is in tatters and Perkins is on post WW3 cleanup missions. They are coming in, like angels from above, from the north and they are going to pound to smithereens the IDF defensive positions blocking the roads into Tel Aviv.
The aircraft commander Perkins has his mind on other things, flying is routine for him and his new hottie girlfriend is sitting next to him in the instructor pilots chair, just behind him to the right – and he is on a combat mission which is strictly forbidden. She is the most beautiful woman he has ever laid his sorry flyboy eyes on, and he can’t help but falling into her beauty.
These two have been teamed up by the USAF’s new artificial intelligence prototype computer, a.k.a. Skynet, or properly known as the Global Digital Defense Network. The AI computer has been inputted with crew member personal data that allows it to calculate probabilities in real time and assist commander in battlefield management.
Skynet can do other things as well, profile personnel and it is turning out to be the best dating computer ever invented although it is hardly ever used for that. Lisa had been matched to him, and she is such a good match our pilot is head over heels, he is literally becoming mesmerized.
But Perkins is also highly disciplined, and catches himself and willfully breaks the spell. He wonders why the Iranians didn’t confront them about Mecca, he had dropped his last B61 thermonuclear bomb on the holiest of Muslim sites. He thinks they are modern and were glad the Mullah religion was knocked down a notch, they want pluralistic democracy like most modern educated peoples. So he decides to ask Lisa about Mecca.
She tells him she couldn’t care, good riddance to Mecca, having been western educated she also viewed praying to a black cube as as a superstitious hold over from a bygone era. He feels relieved, but is afraid to tell her the truth. Maybe she knows, he thinks. Why did she show me the newspaper headlines?
The B-52 enters what used to be Israel in less than two hours after takeoff, the bomb run is only twelve minutes out, and right on cue, as they cross the magical borderline line in the sky, then they get SatCom message that informs them that the mission is scrubbed because ISIS has already broken through the IDF defensives. They are directed to RTB (return to base) by MILSATCOM (military satellite command radio) to land at Diego Garcia.
“Pilot, Command wants us to drop bomb load in the desert.”
“Yeah I figured.” he pauses for a couple of seconds and says in a whisper, “We aren’t going to waste good bombs are we?”
“No, SIR!” the radar is enthusiastic about the preplanned alternative target. The crew is gung ho about following Perkins anywhere he wants to go. Perkins know exactly where to drop the bomb load, on the source of the problem, on the cause of WW3, on the plague of humanity, the depository of Torah Scrolls.
“Did you say they want us to go to Diego Garcia?”
“Yep, the runway wasn’t destroyed, it was painted with a 3D bomb crater to fool spy planes imaging.”
“What?” the pilot doesn’t understand what he said. “Say that again, slowly.”
“I forgot to tell you, you were busy” he laughs. “You were distracted.” the crew all laughs.
“No worries, it was a psyop, it just looks blowed up, the runway is A-OK pilot”
“Whatever” the pilot is confused. “There’d better be a runway when we get there.” He says threateningly.
The Radar replies, I’ll tell you all after the bomb run, alrighty?”
“Roger, give me a heading Nav.”
Perkins decides to go for the Torah scrolls hidden in the basement of Tel Aviv University Jewish Studies Building, the bomb run is changed to the new location 10 miles further south.
Perkins keys the mic, “Radar, remember what we talked about as the alpha target?”.
“Yeah, I’m on it! Nav give him a heading.” the Radar Navigator replies.
“Pilot, turn left 10 degrees to 190.”
Perkins turns the heading knob slightly, the bomber is on altitude autopilot control.
“OK, run the bomb checklist”
“Pilot, Amir is back!” exclaims the Copilot. Once again the F-14 pilot, Amir, brother of Lisa, is off their right wing with his wingman. Right on cue, just as they enter the bomb run, they got Iranian F-14 air cover.
Lisa says “I have to talk to him!” Perkins says, ok turn the radio to 123 Copilot, the preplanned VHS freq. Lisa says “No need” and pulls out a walkie-talkie from her purse. She tells her brother everything is ok, they changed the target, to the alpha target. Perkins overhears her conversation.
Perkins looks at her, “He’s been instructed to shoot us down if we go for the wrong target, right?” She nods affirmative, “He does what he’s told”, and gives him a look of disgust, she doesn’t like her brother’s rigid obedience to authority either.
Perkins then asks her, “How did you know it was an alpha target?” She looks him right in eye, “We hacked Skynet, …, Skynet predicted you would go for that target.”
The new target is the Torah Library at Tel Aviv University, the twin cymbal shaped building reminds Perkins of the Trade Towers that Israel brought down in New York City on 911. He feels it to be justified payback, and he believes he is striking at the heart of the monotheistic belief systems, the scrolls themselves. “Paybacks a bitch you fuckers” he thinks to himself, then he says it outloud so that the computer picks it up, realizing the thought reading circuitry in his helmet was disabled.
The bomb lights flicker as each MK82 bomb leaves its rack position, in perfect sequence. After the last bomb, the Nav makes the routine intercom call, “Bombs away pilot, make left heading 170”.
The Mark82 500 pound high explosive bombs accelerate toward the earth’s surface, pounding the earth like rolling thunder. Tel Aviv campus it turned into the craters of the moon. The Torah Library is completely destroyed.
Problem solved, our cowboy got ‘er done.
“Hey Nav”, the pilot asks the Navigator, “What was the answer to the ultimate question of life, the Universe, and everything?” referring to one of the crew’s favorite film, The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy.
“42, that is the answer to the meaning of life and everything.”
“That’s not correct, I’ll tell you the correct answer, the answer to everything is … 52”, Perkins pauses again and then says louder “the answer to everything is B52” in a decided voice. The crew knows what that means, time for the hoorah.
“The Nav says over the mic, “Crew stand by for Hoorah, … 3,2,1” and then the entire crew including Lisa says all together each keying their mics “HOORAH!” Everyone laughs.
The crew touches down at Diego Garcia, the last place they were stationed. The runway had been painted to look like it was destroyed. The USAF had painted a gigantic looking crater right in the center of the runway using the latest 3D painting technology. On final approach Captain Perkins muses, “Wow, that really does look like a giant bomb crater! What will they think of next? Bare naked ladies?” The crew laughs uproariously.
The crew is scheduled to spend the rest of the week at Diego Garcia for rest and relaxation, or R&R for short. Pickens won’t be getting any rest, of course, because this cowboy has just met his match, a voluptuous Persian sex kitten who is crawling all over him. The USAF AI computer, infamously called Skynet by the crew, has matched Pickens with his fated mate.
The pilot is completely smitten by love, he has never actually been in love before and everything seems different to him, chemical reactions are bonding him to his mate. A whole new world of beauty opens up to him, he no longer cares about bombing or fighting a revolution. This concerns Command and was predicted as a 99% probability by Skynet.
After parking the jet, the love birds can’t wait any longer and Lisa makes a mad dash down the taxiway for the south beach, just a 100 yards away, she’s got her boy in tow, to lure him and egg him on she strips down to her underwear, a black Victoria Secret lace bra and panties, she takes off barefoot, hair blowing in the wind.
She looks back at him, pauses just a moment, her eyes begging for sex, she grins and flips her gorgeous head of hair, and starts sprinting like a young pony, laughing at him. That’s too much for the cowboy, she’s not going to out free spirit him, this little mare is going to get roped and pinned. He chases after her taking off his flight suit as he goes. The energy of that moment is explosive and wild.
The boys are cheering the cowboy on “Go get her stud!”, “Yee hah!” yells the Gunner, “Hoorah” yells the Nav. The Copilot is dumbfounded, man … I can’t wait to be the pilot someday he mutters to himself.
She times her lead so that they both arrive the white sandy beach together. You can guess the rest, penetration is immediately achieved just like the mission. Cowboy Perkins lives up to the B-52 motto, “We penetrate deeper and stay up longer…”
The viewers watch the whole episode which is being recorded by a silent electric powered overhead drones by a contractor that is making their life a made for TV movie. The X-rated parts are edited out, nearly everything that our lovers do is being broadcast over the internet live, the couple is being groomed for political office by the higher power, Command.
They are intending to bring back the days of Camelot, and pick up where the nation left off before the assassination of JFK. Free America is coming back, the Zionists have been routed, political leaders are expected to be passionate and the military is planning on winning the election with their candidate. After WW3, the Air Force is being forced to have the bake sale, they now have to sell their skills.
By nightfall the exhausted lovers walk the beach back to the dormitories, not daring to approach until the cover of dark hides their nakedness. They both are already tanned and have carefully avoided being overly exposed to the tropical sun. They have the week to themselves and decide to camp out instead of being under the prying eyes of the squadron. They grab some sheets and beer and food and head out under the moonlight.
Diego Garcia is a small archipelago. The couple spends the week camping wherever they can find privacy, hiding from the drones. Perkins makes a giant slingshot from a bicycle inner tube and tries to knock one down. Damn drones, he thinks, whatever happened to privacy, is nothing sacred anymore?
They spend the week love making whenever they feel like it, which is often and goofing off, like any dynamic young couple they can’t get enough of each other. They journey around the island, Perkins has Guns deposit stashes of beer and food in ice coolers, so they don’t have to go the the Base Exchange. They want to be left alone.
At night they make a campfire and cuddle, it’s warm, she is sitting on a log next to him, it’s quiet, the waves softly lap the beach. She has her head on his shoulder, he gently asks, “Do you ever talk politics?”
She presses her hands into his, she can sense that her alpha male is thinking seriously, they had seen the news print about the revolution starting in the former United States. Things are getting ugly, the economic depression is taking its toll. America is a big mess, the nation has split into five regions, some areas are declaring independence.
She can sense he longs to lead, at the front, and she was carefully groomed to handle this kind of man. She was raised in the inner circles of power, her father and mother were top revolutionaries in Iran. But right now she is enjoying this non political moment in her life, boring details of power can wait.
She changes the topic, she’s not ready to talk seriously about politics yet, she majored in political science and she doesn’t even know his real name. She asks him, “You haven’t even told me your real fake name.” She laughs in his ear, amateur politician.
Pickens says, “I told you, Perkins.” She pokes him in the ribs and bites his ear lobe, “I know that, what is your first name dummy?”
“Don’t laugh”, he pauses and nervously says, almost imperceptively, “Diesel.” He’s never told anyone on his crew his first real name ever, he got stuck with Slim Pickens early on in flight training and everyone went along with that Hollywood name.
She looks at him, “Like Vin Diesel?” “Yep.” he replies. Then Lisa says his whole name, “Diesel Perkins — your German father named you, right?” He looks at her in the affirmative.
“Guess what my real name is?” She says coyly. “Spy.” His first guess, he laughs outloud. “Close, but no cigar. I’ll give you a clue. What sweet do bees love?” “Honey”, she squeezes him so he knows he’s right. “I should of guessed that spy.” They both laugh. “So you can call me Honey anytime you want, that’s my new real fake name.” “OK honey”, he says, not believing that Honey is her name, he’s going to keep calling her Lisa.
She wraps her arms around his and presses into him, puts her chin on his shoulder, while he pokes the campfire with a stick. He asks, “Are you hungry, I fuckin’ starvin’!” “Vamanos”, she says jumping up and taking his hand, “I thought you’d never ask.” She was trained to let the man lead in nearly all decisions, and Perkins was liking that, about time the woman in his life respect his decision making.
They make their way through the trees to the BX, to get some beer and grub. Perkins grabs a newspaper with the headlines REVOLUTION! Jeezus, America was going into a crazy civil war, the dreaded seriousness of the world situation was now creeping into the blissful thoughts of the two love birds.
He runs into the Edub in the parking lot, he’s informed that they are going to Colorado, to get a tour of a Deep Underground Military Base. Other big news – the Christians want to honor him at the Air Force Academy for destroying those Muslim sites.
The get back to camp, a fire pit and wigwam made of palm fronds with a bed sheet spread out for a floor to keep the sand from sticking to their sweaty bodies. They crack open the beers and she asks, “You can’t wait to get back, can you?” He looks at her, “We can’t goof off forever, the world passed us by this week.” He takes a another sip of beer and sits down next to her.
“I’ve been made for this moment – you must know that.” “Yes, I know and I am at your side, sir.” This time she doesn’t laugh when using the ‘sir’ meme. “It’s all too serious now”, she thinks. She says outloud “Fuck this world!” He knows exactly what she means. “Listen to me”, he stands up pulling her up by the hand, “It’s you and me against this fucking Universe!” They run and jump in the ocean to cool off.
That night they take a break from sex. The lay together watching the fire sparks rise up to the night sky, just listening to the frogs and night bird sounds and ocean waves breaking out at the reef. Just before he dozes off, she drops a bomb, she says she’s missed her period. “I must have super sperm”, he mumbles, tired yet concerned. He pulls her in closer to comfort and protect her. She wiggles around and kisses him on his lips as he falls asleep, putting his hand on her breasts in loving appreciation.
On the return to the dormitory the next morn, Perkins tells the Edub to accept the invitation to the Christian Dominionist ceremony and that he wants to get married at the USAFA chapel. Pregnant Lisa is a problem, she’s not married yet. That’s bad PR for the new conservative America. Perkins thinks, as the proceeds down to the briefing room, “It’s time to get off this fucking atoll and get back to the front.”
“Shit happens.” Captain Pickens thought to himself. “America is completely fucked so that’s where I come in.” The pilot had the utmost confidence in his ability, his ability to lead no matter how completely fucked the situation. AMERICA WAS FUBAR, FUCKED UP BEYOND RECOGNITION. After a century of central banking and Talmudic control of Jewish bankers that ended in the nuking of the East Coast cities, America was fucked up real bad, but she was just like anyone who got in a fight and got the shit beat out of them – but ended up walkin’ away.
The nation was not dead, but black and bruised, there was room for recovery. She was not only in a an economic depression, she was splitting down every line, states were succeeding, militias were claiming control over different areas. No problem thought Pickens, he’d seen worse in his personal relationships and now everything was in the groove with his hottie Persian princess Lisa, there wasn’t a problem he couldn’t solve.
What America needed was new leadership, a man with optimistic certainty and clear vision not like the rest of the sheep who let their nation go to ruin. “Look at all the opportunity to rebuild,” he thought. Americas descent into tyranny had reached a new low after the nuking, a fundamentalist Mormon sect was now beheading non-believers just like them Muslim hardliners. “What’s the diff,” he thought to himself.
Captain Pickens was a freedom fighter, he was for the freedom of everyone including those that didn’t believe, and he was certain that what most believed was myth. He had grown up in Montana, he knew lots of Mormons, most of them were the finest people you ever could of known, but like any group bound by any myth, there was always that hard liner asserting control – and there is no better way to get the flock to obey than to lop off a head or two.
Perkins knew exactly what the real problem was, disobedience to authority wasn’t the problem, authority was the problem, when authority gains to much control the sheep stop thinking and the system then spirals into tyranny. Once obedience is rewarded and not thinking, the nation could only become what it was, welfare dependence and a decline in personal integrity. Creativity flows with freedom, stagnation flows with welfare.
Mankind couldn’t seem to stop the cyclical rise and fall of civilizations. You can’t have freedom and obedience to authority, the two are always at war with each other. In a free society, you are responsible for yourself, you have to think as part of your survival. On the welfare ranch you only have to do enough thinking to get the check, any motivation on your part negates the check, so of course people being people, who follow the path of least resistance like any animal, end up becoming fat, dumb, and lazy just like cattle they were accused of being by the Jewish supremacists – the very people who created the welfare state.
But there were still people who never caved into the system, they never took the check and got on the dole. They kept their guns and their pride, they didn’t lose faith in freedom, they saw what was coming on and got prepared. But they failed to see the enemy within the gates that was slowly corrupting them – they couldn’t see the threat of Judaism until it was too late, and they couldn’t see it because their myth blinded them to that fact.
Religion in America was the fundamental cause of her decline, specifically Christians could not see the Jewish threat within the nation and succumbed to Jewish rule. As America became Zionist occupied territory, she became police state Amerika, and the Jews were only so happy to corral the Goyim on their Talmudic plantation. Those that became Jew wise couldn’t stop the tidal wave of destruction the Jews had unleashed on freedom.
Even after 911, the wake up call for America, patriots could not stop the slide toward totalitarianism. Although millions of Americans got busy studying the problem and who really did 911, they could not turn the tide toward destruction, all resistance to the Jewish World Order was being slowly crushed. But a remnant remained, there were those still with vigor, they still were plenty of red blooded males who could be rallied to the cause. The remnant of red blooded Americans was the resistance within, and many of these patriots were Mormon.
The nation was indebted to the Federal Reserve private banking cartel, everyone was in debt and fighting for jobs to stay afloat. Amerika was a welfare state, a police state, a military industrial complex, distracted by Hollywood entertainment slaved to the wishes of Jewish masters. Americans were hit with a relentless barrage non-stop propaganda. The resistance turned off their televisions and stopped reading the Jewish print media – and they armed themselves.
America was a big productive nation, she wasn’t going to sink into oblivion that easy. Captain Perkins suffered no illusions about freedom, he was of free mind and body, he knew the problem, and if he knew that meant others knew. He had a plan, and the plan was simple, the nation must be made aware of the situation and a rational alternative presented. First he would market his ideas of freedom to his kind, those who still had balls and the spirit of life, the sheep would always follow.
On the morning on their flight out they spent the night in his office quarters room. Lisa is nude in front of his vanity mirror doing her face closeup in the mirror. He watches her from the bed, sipping on a fresh hot cup of coffee she made for him right in their room. The odor of the brewing coffee woke him up. He’s in love with chick, perfection has been achieved with her, and he loves her excellence.
She sees that he’s awake and smiles at him from the reflection in the mirror, she knows she needs to attend to her lover, for she to has met her match in this man, this alpha male which gets shit done. She stands up letting him see her perfect voluptuous body, that he is now intimate with. She squeezes her breasts together, “I hope they never sag”, she says with a pouting face, squeezing her puffy lips together as if to kiss him. She’s a big tease that delivers.
She goes to him, hovers over him in the bed, her boobs hanging down, tempting his touch, but to throw her off he grabs her perfectly curved ass and pulls her around getting a good view of her pussy. She dutifully puts her shoulders to the bed looking back at him like a black cat in heat, expecting to be immediately mounted.
He spreads her lips with his hands, opens her up for an examination and notices the torn hymen. “You were a virgin?”, treating her as if she was a mare taken to stud. He asks puzzled, breaking his stare at the inside of her vagina, he didn’t think there was a chance in hell that she was – even though she told him the first morning together that she was a virgin.
“You weren’t lying?” He asks her again, pulling her around face forward again. She looks into his eyes, “Yep, you were the first man that’s been in there!” She replies in confidence, maintaining her dignity and posture – disappointed he didn’t take her again. “Are you sure you’re pregnant?” he asks. “As soon as we get stateside lets get one of those pregnancy tests.”
Perkins gets up and sits on the side of the bed, she put on her bra and panties that she washed in the sink the night before, then goes back to the vanity and starts with her makeup. He ponders the situation when they get back to the states. She studies his face from the mirror, “Whach you thinkin’ ” she asks, as if she’s a cow girl, she figures if he treats her like a cowgirl then she’ll act like a cowgirl.
He notices the change in her normal proper English, he gets up and massages her shoulders. “You know what the problem with America is?” She shrugs ever so slightly, enjoying the massage. “America is completely confused and I’m going to change that.” She turns around and hugs his waist and looks down, “I know you are and I am here for you.” She now is treating him like a little boy.
“So I know it’s early to ask, but what do you think of getting married?” he says slyly. Now she knows what really bothering him, and she feels very relieved. She replies gracefully, “Are you proposing to me?” still looking into the mirror at him. She tries to hide her disappointment that he’s not on his knee. He gets down on both knees and swivels her around in the chair, so she is facing him, now they are both eye to eye. “Yes, but not right now.”
“WTF” she thinks, what is this jerk doing, her stunning beauty had drawn many proposals with bouquets of red roses, he’s offering her marriage in his barracks with nothing after he pries me open like a tuna can. He then pulls out a note from his swimsuit that was on the floor, he shows it to her, some scribbled writing that the television producer wants him to propose before they takeoff, on the beach. “Oh, well that is a good reason to get married!” she says laughingly.
They want us over there in a half hour, right at sunrise. “Ok, dear”, she replies begrudgingly. Already the power of the situation was demanding compliance, but when you want to be the Senator’s wife you have to play along with game. He silently kicks himself, his intuition had told him to propose the last night at the beach, but he talked himself out of it because they hadn’t even known each other for a week. He states sullenly and forcefully, “This sucks, this really sucks! … fuck! god dammit to hell!” She sees that he is distraught, she sees that he wanted to propose to her in just the right moment and with that realization her love for him comes gushing back. She jumps into his arms and cries.
He knows that Command prompted that note, the contractor making their movie was told to only observe, now he could see that they were aware of the situation with his pregnant bride, and they needed marriage ASAP, America had newly discovered conservative values after World War 3. A proper wife gets pregnant after marriage, not before.