Warrior on the mission. One, maybe—but Rock knew that there was no way in hell he was going to be able to argue both of them out of it, so he simply surrendered. But by the first few hours out it was clear that a continuous stream of highly acidic conversation between the two was going to be the order of the day.
After the gathered military delegates back in Century City had voted to follow Rockson’s plan, the fortresses to be attacked were assigned to different cities—pretty much according to their manpower, their armaments, their ability to take on a particular-sized Russian fort. Century City’s top battle strategists gave suggestions to those who were willing to listen on the best mode of attack and the time was set. Fourteen days. They would return to their towns and cities and assemble every bit of man and woman power they could. At the same hour in fourteen days, the free forces would strike across America in a coordinated attack. And like D-Day almost 150 years ago—everything was riding on it.
Rockson led a smaller elite unit of Century City’s forces, his own team of Chen, Detroit, Archer, and McCaughlin and ten other hand-picked men. And of course, Kim and Rona, who were giving the rest of the team their fair share of laughs. They would link up with the much larger—nearly 5,000-man—Century City army at Fort Minsk. It was the largest of the midwest fortresses, the central headquarters of military operations for the entire KGB takeover, and if their intel reports were correct—the place that Killov had fled to after miraculously surviving the Octagon’s explosion in Washington. Rockson felt the takeover of Minsk was essential to the success of the war. If they could take out the brain—the arms, the legs would fail. If not . . . But failure was not something Ted Rockson dwelled on. If he did, he would have given up long ago and crawled back into the radioactive dirt. For everything is impossible until you do it.
“Tell me,” Kim said, not even deigning to look at her opponent in love, “how did you get that red hair? Mecco-root?”
“Darling—it’s all my own—as is everything you see,” Rona replied with an absurd little laugh. “It’s a pity there’s so little to see on you.”
“Men just love little packages, dear,” Kim retorted, throwing a hand over her mouth in a little yawn as if the entire proceeding was getting most tedious. “It makes them feel so manly. With you, I would think it would be more along the lines of a wrestling match or a weight-lifting competition—and I’m sure you would do very well.”
Paces ahead, Rockson didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Men always said they liked that kind of problem—two beautiful women in love with you at the same time. But in reality, it was a different matter. For they spent so much time arguing, there was no energy left for him. But at least they weren’t pulling at each other’s hair and scratching at one another’s eyes.
He loved them both, each in a different way, each bringing up a whole different range of emotions. He had been Rona’s only lover for years. Though she knew that he slept with others along the road from time to time, she had never made an issue of it. A man is a man is a man. As long as no little hussy from Century City made a stab at her man. And none dared—not against the 5'10", 140 pounds of pure muscle and fighting ability of Rona Wallender, Descended from a famous circus-trapeze family, Rona had been trained as a child in gymnastics and acrobatics, working as a performer in her father’s traveling show—secretly an intelligence-gathering operation for the Freefighters. When her father was captured and executed, Rona had managed to escape and made her way to Century City. The rest was history She and Rockson had hooked up, and . . . Until Kim showed up, she had been his woman.
The two women were as different from one another as the sun and the moon. Green-eyed Rona—tall, strong,
After the gathered military delegates back in Century City had voted to follow Rockson’s plan, the fortresses to be attacked were assigned to different cities—pretty much according to their manpower, their armaments, their ability to take on a particular-sized Russian fort. Century City’s top battle strategists gave suggestions to those who were willing to listen on the best mode of attack and the time was set. Fourteen days. They would return to their towns and cities and assemble every bit of man and woman power they could. At the same hour in fourteen days, the free forces would strike across America in a coordinated attack. And like D-Day almost 150 years ago—everything was riding on it.
Rockson led a smaller elite unit of Century City’s forces, his own team of Chen, Detroit, Archer, and McCaughlin and ten other hand-picked men. And of course, Kim and Rona, who were giving the rest of the team their fair share of laughs. They would link up with the much larger—nearly 5,000-man—Century City army at Fort Minsk. It was the largest of the midwest fortresses, the central headquarters of military operations for the entire KGB takeover, and if their intel reports were correct—the place that Killov had fled to after miraculously surviving the Octagon’s explosion in Washington. Rockson felt the takeover of Minsk was essential to the success of the war. If they could take out the brain—the arms, the legs would fail. If not . . . But failure was not something Ted Rockson dwelled on. If he did, he would have given up long ago and crawled back into the radioactive dirt. For everything is impossible until you do it.
“Tell me,” Kim said, not even deigning to look at her opponent in love, “how did you get that red hair? Mecco-root?”
“Darling—it’s all my own—as is everything you see,” Rona replied with an absurd little laugh. “It’s a pity there’s so little to see on you.”
“Men just love little packages, dear,” Kim retorted, throwing a hand over her mouth in a little yawn as if the entire proceeding was getting most tedious. “It makes them feel so manly. With you, I would think it would be more along the lines of a wrestling match or a weight-lifting competition—and I’m sure you would do very well.”
Paces ahead, Rockson didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Men always said they liked that kind of problem—two beautiful women in love with you at the same time. But in reality, it was a different matter. For they spent so much time arguing, there was no energy left for him. But at least they weren’t pulling at each other’s hair and scratching at one another’s eyes.
He loved them both, each in a different way, each bringing up a whole different range of emotions. He had been Rona’s only lover for years. Though she knew that he slept with others along the road from time to time, she had never made an issue of it. A man is a man is a man. As long as no little hussy from Century City made a stab at her man. And none dared—not against the 5'10", 140 pounds of pure muscle and fighting ability of Rona Wallender, Descended from a famous circus-trapeze family, Rona had been trained as a child in gymnastics and acrobatics, working as a performer in her father’s traveling show—secretly an intelligence-gathering operation for the Freefighters. When her father was captured and executed, Rona had managed to escape and made her way to Century City. The rest was history She and Rockson had hooked up, and . . . Until Kim showed up, she had been his woman.
The two women were as different from one another as the sun and the moon. Green-eyed Rona—tall, strong,
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