Atlas Reloaded - Book Five of the Damned of the 2/19th

The True Face of Atlas

The semi-tractor had hooked up and pulled one of the two loaded trailers out and I was running 155mm APERS FASCAM out of the bunker and onto the pad where Carol could give it a quick once over to make sure the pallets were in servicable condition to load onto the trailer. We'd cleared five trailers already and the sun had been up for almost three hours.

Carol had led me back into the bunker, walking in front of me, so she could ground guide me to pull more of the 155mm out and put it on the pad. We were pretty much out of space on the pad, but I could probably slam a few more rounds and finish out the lot number.

Ammunition was tracked by lot number, and you never mixed the lot numbers. You had to have at least two feet of space on all sides of a stack of a lot number so that you knew exactly which lot number was where. It could be that the lot had a manufacturer's defect, had gotten past it's "use by" date (chemical components of the explosive matrix or the bursting charge or any other part could chemically debond, making it either unstable or dropping it's explosive yield too low), or just that particular lot was to be pulled.

The Army was all about dress right dress.

Carol held up her fist, then motioned at me to ground the forks. I did so and she came over, grinning at me.

"Think we got a few minutes before the trans guys come back?" She asked me.

I nodded, frowning. "Yeah, why?"

"All this ammo makes me horny," she grinned. She grabbed my hand. "Let's go, Franky."

I threw the fork in neutral and jumped out, following her.

"You up for it, Franky?" She asked me, leading me further back into the bunker.

"Yeah," I grunted.

"You pissed off again?" She asked.

I nodded.

"Good," She said, pulling me between two of the lot numbers of 8-inch arty FASCAMs. There was a partial stack for the lot deeper in, with a row of single height pallets. "Saw that earlier, been waiting for a break," She leaned over the stack. "Hate fuck me, Franky."

It didn't take long, both of us getting what we wanted out of it. I used her LBE to pull her against me, she was wet, hot, and ready. I stood behind her for a long moment, my eyes closed, waiting for the last twitches to subside. She chuckled, tensed her muscles to squeeze me, then laughed as I involuntarily gave her an urgent, eager thrust and she felt one more squirt out of me. Afterwards we pulled out pants back up and walked out of the bunker. She paused while I killed the forklift, then walked next to me out to the pad.

"You always like this, Franky?" She asked me, staring at the 1K Zone, her cigarette in her mouth. She was leaning against the ammo, her helmet on the tops of the pallets behind her.

"Like what?" I asked. I'd been daydreaming about her chubby plentiful pale ass.

"Just ready to go," She said. "Seems like any time I want it that thing's ready to go."

"You're a good lover," I told her. "I like fucking you."

She paused, looking at me out of the corner of her eye.

"What?" I asked.

"You're telling the truth, aren't you?" She asked, her voice soft.

"Well, yeah. Why wouldn't I?" I asked.

She shook her head. "Damn. Don't worry about it, Franky," she smiled at me. "Never thought it would make me feel good to hear I'm a good fuck."

I just shrugged. "Better than a dead fuck."