Apocalypse Blues - Cover

Apocalypse Blues

Copyright© 2017 by Mark Gander

Chapter 54

Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 54 - Adam Clarke is just a regular Navy veteran going to West Virginia University on the GI Bill, right? Think again, as he discovers, after Doomsday, with the help of a growing harem, a radical classmate, and her lesbian lover, his history professor.

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   Fa/Fa   Ma/Ma   Mult   Consensual   Gay   Lesbian   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Celebrity   Futanari   Military   School   War   Science Fiction   Post Apocalypse   Paranormal   Demons   Sharing   Slut Wife   Incest   BDSM   DomSub   MaleDom   FemaleDom   Rough   Gang Bang   Group Sex   Harem   Orgy   Polygamy/Polyamory   Swinging   Interracial   Anal Sex   Analingus   Double Penetration   Exhibitionism   First   Oral Sex   Pregnancy   Squirting   Voyeurism   Clergy   Public Sex   Teacher/Student   Nudism   Politics   Revenge   Violence  

Later that morning,
Saturday, 28 June, 2014,
War Room, City Hall,
Roanoke, Virginia

“So, how are our logistical problems with the Air Corps?” I asked Colonel Munson, who had become de facto chief of War Plans and needed formal recognition as such.

“We’ve just about gotten them under control due to heavy rationing, not without considerable grief from civilians, of course. There are still efforts to bribe and bypass the rationing policy, but things have improved sufficiently that we now have just enough fuel for the Warthogs and Apaches that can harass the enemy positions outside of Waynesboro,” Munson grinned with savage delight at the prospect of air-to-ground operations.

They were just in the nick of time, of course, but they would suffice, I honestly believed. The enemy was about to get mauled from above, and it was largely his fault for launching ground attacks in a sector that was apparently outside his ability to provide air cover. We all had logistical issues with air support, but that was reason for caution and following a defensive approach, not for outrunning one’s aerial capabilities. I had the sneaking suspicion that the folks in Norfolk, while they might have temporarily pushed past this in their counterattack, would very soon remedy that themselves.

“Time to make the sons of bitches really hurt, but make sure to leave enough for recon, now that we have it on hand. The ground recon is nice, but clearly has its limitations, at least until we can get more hands on deck, if you will. Have the pilots hit the foe’s armor especially. We want their mobility greatly curtailed, of course. Infantry is crucial, of course, but not having armor will make it easier to be stalled or at least slowed down. If you can do some damage to their artillery, of course, that’s another high priority. We want their infantry as pinned down and helpless as possible,” I insisted.

“Easier for infantry to be cut off and neutralized without those two things, that much is clear. Even as a rank amateur, I can understand this. I’m no colonel, after all, light or heavy. I’m not an ex-seaman from the old Navy,” Austin quipped in the exuberant mood in which he found himself.

“Old Navy? I don’t recall seeing Morgan Fairchild around,” I joked, making everyone laugh a bit and easing the tension.

“I think that you’re dating yourself. I’m not sure if Austin here recalls those TV ads,” Munson noted, “not that I would mind seeing Morgan Fairchild around by any means.”

“Who’s Morgan Fairchild?” Austin just made the jest even funnier with the whole generational divide.

He might be a Prophet, but he was still very much Generation Z and it showed. That was when I recalled that I was only a few years older than Austin and closer to him than Munson in age. Oh, well, I was always an old soul and felt like it, always mature for my real age. I was the sort who watched reruns and old ads online and all that when that technology was still more reliable.

In any case, the latest war report from the Coastal Front indicated that Captain Preuss and Commander Bolt were committed to expanding their assault upon the ASF defenses. Eckart had somewhat panicked or grown fatalistic and evacuated Danville and Martinsville, that was true. Nevertheless, he ordered a “stand or die” defense of everywhere from Suffolk, Williamsburg, Newport News, etc.

This was clearly a reflection of his awareness of being overextended and a desire for a shorter perimeter, but he had run in such haste that he had lost some gear because his men were at least temporarily demoralized. He hadn’t even taken the time for scorched earth, so shaken was he by the unexpected reversal of fortunes in the field. I had the natural worry that he wasn’t likely to repeat that mistake. He might be obtuse and bigoted, but he was almost certain to be intelligent in the usual, myopic fashion of zealots, so would learn from practical experience.

That hadn’t stopped him from throwing good manpower and gear after bad at Waynesboro, though perhaps he had reason to believe that Lassard was too weak to repel him this time. Well, he was sure to find this nut harder to crack than he expected. This was especially true with my new air corps ready to assail him from above. It was still limited air operations, mainly for support of ground forces, but it was a healthy foundation for a future air force, if somewhat primitive at this phase.

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