****
It had taken only an hour for army jets to scramble and do their first set of flyovers, and another hour for the military to arrive. With the runway ruined by the explosions, none of the island staff could leave and were forced to surrender to the arriving army. Rayne and Malcolm had lit a fire on the beach and waited for the scouts to come to them.
After the military had arrived, Rayne and Malcolm were stationed back at her huge cabin and given thorough once-overs by army medical personnel. They were both slightly singed from their earlier pyrotechnics at the compound. Rayne explained they had stolen gas cans and poured them around the compound before laying a trail to the large fuel tank, using Malcolm’s shirt as a wick. They were sitting in fresh bathrobes when an official walked into the cabin.
“Rayne Baker? Malcolm Derby? I can’t imagine the things you’ve seen today.” He had taken off his hat and a sadness filled his demeanor. “We found the remains you spoke of, and our team thinks it has found a site for a mass grave. It will be some time before we know for sure.”
“Where are the workers?” asked Rayne. She had insisted that she felt the on-site staff were not directly involved in the malicious activities on the island.
The official sucked on his teeth, “We think there are two groups of people working here: legitimate resort staff and the project operators. The resort staff were found holed up in bunkers beneath us. They have access through the atrium and a private track. They are all being questioned and detained.”
It was Malcolm’s turn to ask a question, he had been very quiet since they’d been picked up. “Do you know what the purpose of this plan was?”
This time the official gave a pointed look at the duo, then he shrugged, “We found documents in other areas of the hangars. It looks like the nanotechnology could be manipulated to create influence within the brain. There were drawings and samples of simple electronic transmitters. I’m not exactly sure of how they worked, but one of our teams thinks they would be inserted under the skin and a control station would send out signals.”
“But that doesn’t explain why they would make them so contagious. You’d end up killing people and enforcing a quarantine.”
“Exactly. We’re discovering content that shows the nanotechnology evolving so it doesn’t attack the medulla oblongata, the part of the brain that regulates respiration and heart rate. They believed that second generation nano-bites would be virtually undetectable and could be controlled through long-range communications--like how a mobile phone picks up a signal.”
“But why invite us?”
“You? You were accidents. You, Malcolm, were supposed to be Ben, a womanizing advertising agent. And you, Rayne, were a complete accident of fate. We saw a chart with lists of people and institutions. It looks like they were planting agents in locations that would help spread the infection or could directly affect outcomes. Imagine if you had the ear of some of the world’s most powerful financiers? Or, could encourage oil magnates to restrict sales by the flick of a switch?”
“But, the resort get-up—why not just capture people?”
“Now that we’re still speculating on. I side strongly with the argument that this resort was another way to spread infection to the ludicrously rich. If they felt unwell, they could blame it on the climate or being bitten by a tropical bug rather than thinking they’ve been infected with an aggressive piece of nanotechnology. It was a smoke-and-mirrors ploy.”
Malcolm and Rayne sat in stunned silence.
The official stood up and wished them a restful night. As he left, a nurse reappeared and said that they should get some rest, enforcing the condition they don’t go on the balcony as specified in their short-term home quarantine. Just as the door closed and locked, Rayne stood up and walked to the bedroom. With one backwards glance, she beckoned Malcolm.
In a rush of kisses, Malcolm scooped up Rayne and held her close. They collapsed onto the king bed and started throwing off their robes.
“Wait,” Rayne pushed Malcolm back, “what if this isn’t real, but a hangover from the other night’s drugging?”
“I don’t know about that; this feels pretty real to me. Does this feel real to you?” he asked, placing Rayne’s hand on his swollen bulge.
Before she could control herself, Rayne had flung off her clothes and was writhing on the bed underneath Malcolm. Malcolm’s touches were gentle, but firm and full of promise. He had unbuckled his jeans and yanked out his engorged member, which was pulsing with anticipation. Rayne let her hands wander over Malcolm’s muscled back, coming to a rest on either one of his pert buttocks. She gave a squeeze and relished the feeling of Malcolm’s cock jolting against her belly. Malcolm fed one of Rayne’s nipples into his mouth and licked hungrily. Despite his earlier injuries, he was adept at moving quickly and let his mouth wander down her body toward her freshly-waxed center. He parted Rayne’s thighs and sunk his mouth to her swelling clit, sending electrical buzzes through her body.
Slurping and swirling his tongue hungrily, Malcolm teased her engorged slit with the tip of his tongue, slipping the tip of his fat pink tongue into the wetness. Rayne muffled her moaning and dragged Malcolm back up, her hands feverishly feeding his thickness into her throbbing core. Malcolm dropped his face, trailing his tongue alongside her neck as he drew his cock in and out of her. Every thrust widened and then tightened Rayne’s slippery hole--Malcolm was a tight fit, and his girthy cock was lapping up the firm squeeze. Grunting with effort and lust, Malcolm increased the pace of his thrusting, and Rayne dug her fingers into his buttocks. The intensity of their lovemaking was magnified by the quiet breaths they passed, until finally, in a rapturous end, the hot splash of Malcolm’s seed sent Rayne spiraling into a rhythm of toe-curling orgasms, each one milking his exhausted length.
“I think I’m going to enjoy house detention,” Rayne gasped.
THE END