She was incredibly beautiful. She was... “You ... you can’t be...”He staggered backward. One step. Two. Three.“She told me...”He fell to his...knees, ignoring a cluster of sharp pains as they struck gravel and began sinking into the mud.“You’re ... you’re not...”“I’ve been waiting for you, Lucas Bronson.”Luke stared at her. Every organ, every nerve, every fluid and tendon and neuron in his body frozen in disbelief.And then everything started working again.“No. You’re not her. You can’t be. You’re. Rick smiled as he listened to her moan and watched her caressing her breasts with one hand, and her glistening pussy with the other. He was lost in the moment until he saw the fading light coming through the curtains in his peripheral vision.“Shit,” he exclaimed as he sat up. “Your brother’s going to be home soon.”Her voice sad, and a pout on her face, she said, “Oh, damn. You’re right.”“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath. Ignoring the now cold and clammy evidence of what he’d done, he slid. "Is your Colonel in a hurry?" Nope ... he's planning to check out the aircraft on loan here. 'I'm going to fly them.' he said." Sarge continued, "I'm not sure if it's orders or playtime, but they're all going up this weekend, what help can I give you?" See if you can figure out how these pontoons go on, please. I need to chat with my boss." She paused, "there's manuals for everything in the dash box. It might make it simpler." Hell, missy, I'm a man ... we don't need no damn directions." Then. The room was large, perhaps a hundred feet in diameter with a high domed ceiling and rough concrete walls. The floor was packed dirt with a few inches of loose sand on top. Lights, hung on iron pipes and walls were widely spaced. Piles of boxes and crates stood against one wall. A fire burned in the center of the room giving scant heat to combat the chill. Five dark doorways, not counting the one they came through, led to as yet unknown horrors. In an alcove set in one wall, there were four.