I'd gone about three hundred yards when I spotted movement ahead. I stopped and crouched down slowly, watching.They moved in three man groups, one hel... a shotgun, one a semi-auto short barreled rifle and the third carried a pistol, taser and radio.I watched them overlap with a second group, neither set speaking to the other, just nods of recognition. They moved well, like trained soldiers. Satisfied with what I'd seen I waited till they were out of sight then turned around and headed back. ”“Ah, I see. And Bree…,” he said, turning to her. “Is that like the cheese?”“No, it’s short for Breeze. My mom is a holdover hippy too.”“Right,” Carl chimed in. “Because you’re sisters, right?”Summer and Bree looked at each other, smiling, and sipped their wine.“You’re very perceptive,” Bree said.“Really,” he went on, “Because you look alike, you have the same eyes and the same mouth and I bet you get that a lot…”“I’m her mother,” Summer said, cutting him off.Carl and Bobby were both caught off. John’s fingers gripped his wife’s breasts hard, using them for leverage as April’s nails scratched down his back. A yell burst from John’s lungs, in pleasure and pain, before he sunk his teeth into his wife’s shoulder. The heavy slapping of their bodies echoed around the walls and they both felt the other nearing the brink of climax. “Please…!” April begged through ragged, heavy breaths. “Please, John… Please…! Can I… Oh fuck, yes! Oh please can I… Can I cummmm?” Every fibre of April’s being. Fry was fluent in Farsi, but was not familiar with German. He needed to communicate clearly with his international counterparts and Homeland Security had come through with just the sort of person to whom both Fry and the Germans could relate. Gretchen Holtz was a tall blonde with obvious Nordic heritage. A woman of restrained good looks, she dressed professionally in a conservative suit with moderate heels. Fry speculated that she might be a world of fun when she was off-duty, but on-duty she.