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From: "Bill Morgan" <morg1058@chartervt.net>
Subject: {ASSM} NEW from Morgan: KELLY, 1 of 4; M/F Rom
Date: Sun, 29 Jul 2001 16:10:01 -0400
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<1st attachment, "Kelly 1.wpd.txt" begin>

The following is a work of fiction regarding sexual
relationships.  If you feel that it is illegal, immoral, or
otherwise improper for you to read this, then DON'T READ IT.

* * *

Kelly

  1989, 1998, 2001 by Morgan. All rights reserved.

You will note from the copyright dates above that this book was
written before the fall of the Berlin Wall.  One does get lucky
sometimes.  What did not happen, though, was the overthrow of the
Soviet government; it's most of the same people wearing different
titles.

Incidentally, you will find occasional entries, _word_.  The
reason for this is that MS Word's Auto Format function puts a
word preceded and followed by an underscore in italics; that's my
intent.  Similarly, *word* results in the word appearing in bold
face.  If you use Word's Auto Format, it will take care of
things; if you don't, you at least know why it's there.

More of my works are posted on my site <www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Morgan/www> If
you like it -- or if you don't -- please let me know at
morg105829@aol.com.

Chapter 1

Mike Callahan moved quietly in the shadows next to the stone wall
in Langenhagen.  He saw Johnson slip around the far corner. 
Suddenly, there was the sound of automatic-weapons fire. 
Callahan could hear the muffled sounds characteristic of the MP-5
and the chatter of AK-47 assault rifles.  As he slid along the
wall trying to be as quiet as possible, he wondered why he was
bothering.  The noise from the automatic weapons was enough to
awaken the dead.

As he approached the corner of the wall, two Soviet guards came
around, moving right into a hail of fire from his silenced MP-5.
Unlike their comrades, they didn't have a chance to fire a shot
as they were cut down by a hail of 9mm bullets.  Mike continued
to the corner and carefully peered around it.  He found Ben
Johnson dead, his body riddled with bullets.  Just then two more
guards came running.  Mike kept low in the shadows and tracked
their approach.  He had picked up an AK-47 from one of the downed
guards and pulled its cocking lever.  He waited motionless until
the guards were only ten feet away.  They were so close he
couldn't miss -- and didn't.  They were cut to pieces by
automatic weapons fire.

He moved back around the corner of the wall.  From the corner of
his eye he saw a shadow move.  It was another guard with his
weapon leveled at him.  Mike's weapon was aimed the wrong way; he
was dead meat.  Then there was a quick movement behind the guard.
 A bare arm came around his neck and there was a flash of light
on polished metal.  The guard collapsed to the ground like a
puppet with its strings cut.

Mike was astonished to see a naked girl kneeling over the body
and appearing to wipe off a knife blade on the dead man's tunic.
He could hear the sounds of running feet as more guards responded
to the sounds of gunfire.  While he ran towards the spot where he
and Ben had left the car they had used for the night's raid, he
could hear the padding sound of the girl's bare feet running
after him.

The car was an ancient Volkswagen Beetle which was still a
ubiquitous car in Langenhagen.  He jumped in and started it up as
the girl opened the other door and jumped into the passenger
seat.  The car's interior was so dark he still couldn't get a
good look at her.  He took a right turn at the first corner,
followed by a left and then another right.  When he came to a
main artery he turned left and paced the small volume of wartime
traffic heading out of town.

Stopping beside a field that was just around a bend in the road
from a road block, Mike swallowed hard.  The girl beside him had
still not spoken a word.  When he asked her if she were coming
with him, she nodded.  He realized he had spoken to her in
English rather than the local language, German.  She didn't even
blink.

"Okay, then," he said pointing out the edge of a grove of trees,
"run for those trees over there.  But watch where you step.  It's
a minefield.  Try to step on clumps of grass.  Incidentally,
after you go a few yards, you'll be within sight of a checkpoint
up the road.  They have searchlights, so don't be surprised if
bullets start humming by you.  Can you do that?"

The girl nodded again and got out of the car.  Mike took another
clip of ammunition for his MP-5 and set it for single fire.  At
this range automatic fire would just make noise.  The range was
far too great for automatic weapons to be used with any accuracy;
for that matter, his weapon's effective range was much too short
for this task at any rate of fire.

The girl started running.  He could see her picking her way
across the field, carefully following his instructions about
placing her feet.  After she had gone about twenty yards, he
could hear the alarm being given at the checkpoint and then
searchlights started sweeping the field.  One picked up the
running girl and pinned her in its beam.  Strangely, there were
no shots fired and she did not slow down.  Mike realized the
guards were taken by surprise at the sight of a naked girl
running across the field.

As she reached the far edge of the field, the first shots were
fired.  As he expected, the guards were using automatic fire. 
Dirt was being kicked up in the area where the girl was running
but she seemed to ignore it.  In a matter of moments she was out
of range.

He started sprinting after her.  This time the guards were alert.
 After he had taken about a dozens steps he was hit but managed
to stay on his feet and kept going.  Soon he reached the edge of
the trees and found the girl waiting for him.

"You did say that was a minefield, didn't you?" she asked
quietly.

Mike was impressed by the calmness of her voice and liked its
soft musical quality.  "Yes, it is, and that's what I said.  Does
it make a difference?"

She just shook her head.  She had seen him hit and asked, "Do you
have a first-aid pack with you?"

When he said he didn't, she took her knife and slit his pants,
cutting off the left trouser leg.  She then rolled it around to
form a bandage and placed it over the bullet hole.  It was quite
dark at their position so Mike still had not had a good look at
the girl.

"Where do we go now?" she asked.

He led the way deep into the stand of trees to a campsite he and
Ben had set up a few days earlier.  Then he explained to her that
they had taken advantage of the minefields the East Germans and
Russians had placed by moving some of their mines and adding a
few of their own.  After two patrols had detonated mines while
proceeding on what they thought to be a safe track, they had
ceased patrolling towards the woods.  Fortunately, they didn't
suspect enemy action.  Rather, they wrote it off as typically
careless marking of mine locations.

Mike went into a grove of tall evergreens.  As he led her to
their camp he explained how the evergreens dissipated wood smoke
and shielded them from view from helicopters passing overhead. 
Because of natural emissions from the evergreens, small amounts
of wood smoke went unnoticed.  As he traveled the last few feet,
he started to feel dizzy as the initial shock of being hit
started to wear off.  As they entered the camp's perimeter, he
staggered, then collapsed to the ground.

When he recovered consciousness, he saw the girl was kneeling on
the floor of the tent examining his leg by the light of a
gasoline lantern.  She was now wearing one of Ben's combat
jackets.  He had been awakened by a sharp jabbing pain in his leg
which caused it to jerk under her hand.  She went to the large
first-aid kit she had found, took out a xylocaine ampule and gave
him an injection in the leg just above the point of bulletentry.

She had been kneeling and now sat back on her heels and smiled at
him.  "We have to wait for the morphine to work.  I suppose we
should get acquainted.  My name is Kelly Jackson, and thank you
for rescuing me," she said.

Mike looked at her carefully.  She had blonde hair and brilliant
blue eyes.  Remarkable for Germany, she even had a tan although
it was very early spring.  Mike decided she was a very lovely
girl -- and clearly very young.  He estimated her age as being
under twenty-one -- probably eighteen or nineteen.

 "Hello, Kelly," he said.  "I'm Mike Callahan, and _I_ owe _you._
 You were the one who took the guard off my back while I was
standing there like a fool with my weapon pointing in the wrong
direction.  Where did you come from by the way, and what are you
doing here?"

"I came from the school complex behind the wall," she replied. 
"I've been held there since the fighting started... about a year
now.  How are we doing, anyway?"

"We're holding our own," Mike answered.  "In fact, I guess you'd
have to say we're probably winning.  We stopped their initial
rush, and there are signs the bad guys have lost most of their
assault troops.  We've put some major-league holes in their
first-line assault units.  Now we're seeing more second- and
third-level units being brought up to the line.  What were you
doing?"

"I was the commandant's mistress for the last couple of months. 
I guess I've had a lab course in sex education.  On the first day
of the occupation, I lost my virginity on the stage in the
auditorium.  Since then I did -- or was forced to do --
everything imaginable with everyone imaginable.  Finally, I
figured out how the game is played and got to be the commandant's
mistress... but he wanted me to be his concubine.

"He's been really pissed that I haven't gotten pregnant like so
many of the other girls.  He says it reflects badly on his
manhood, so now he has me beaten every month when my period
starts.  Anyway, I took advantage of your gunfire to even the
score.  He's dead now.  I slit his throat and came down the drain
pipe.  It's something I've been planning to do for quite awhile;
you provided the opportunity.

"Right now I'm about to operate.  I guess I should ask if you
want me to, though.  It's obvious to you I'm no doctor, but the
bullet is still in your leg.  I don't think you'll be able to
move much until it comes out, and it could become infected or
gangrenous.  You could lose it.  Do you want me to try?" she
asked, looking at him solemnly.

He smiled at her and said, "You look like you know what you're
doing.  What woke me up?  It felt like you were digging for
something."

"I'm sorry.  I was trying to figure out which instruments did
what, and I was trying to scrub the area."  She moved her finger
on his leg between the wound and the point at which she had given
him the shot of xylocaine.  "Do you feel this?" she asked.

"No, nothing," Mike replied.

She blocked his view with her back, did something else, and
asked, "Did you feel that?"  He had felt nothing and said so. 
She smiled and said, "I guess you're ready, then.  I'm sorry.  I
dug a fingernail into your leg hard.  If the xylocaine hadn't
taken, you would have felt it."

Kelly put on a pair of surgical gloves and picked up a probe. 
She carefully felt her way down the entry wound until she met the
resistance of the bullet.  Keeping the probe in position, she
followed it down into the wound with surgical forceps.  When her
sensitive fingers felt the bullet with the forceps' tip, she
opened them and grabbed the bullet.  Locking them, she slowly
withdrew the forceps pulling the bullet back along its track
through the muscle mass gripping it.  She dropped the bullet on
the blanket and reinserted the forceps into the wound.

Mike watched the girl work.  In spite of the coolness of the
spring night, she was sweating profusely.  Perspiration was
pouring off her face but he could see she was ignoring it.  He
could see her open the nose of the forceps -- really very thin,
long-nosed locking pliers -- just a tiny bit, then lock them
again.  Slowly, she withdrew them from the wound.  Mike had
noticed it had not been bleeding very much.  The temporary
bandage wasn't as soaked with blood as he expected.  The forceps
were removed and blood started gushing from the wound.

He noticed she just watched it flow without blinking.  Finally,
she took surgical cotton and stopped the flow of blood with
pressure.  She sprinkled an antibiotic in and around the wound,
removed the cotton and applied a pressure bandage made from a
small stack of gauze compresses.  It was only then Mike that
realized she had shaved a large area on his thigh.

After taping the gauze pads in place she gave him an injection. 
"It's tetracycline to prevent infection," she said.

Only then did she wipe the sweat from her forehead with the back
of her hand.  "Mike, hold out your left arm and make a fist,
please," she said.

He did what she asked and watched her carefully insert a needle
into a vein that had popped up.  She rigged a plasma bottle and
released the clamp allowing the fluid to flow slowly into his
arm.  Then she took a careful look at the forceps.  On her second
pass she had removed a small pad of cloth -- obviously a piece of
his pants -- driven into his leg ahead of the bullet.

"Kelly, that was remarkable.  Where did you ever receive medical
training?" he asked.

A beautiful smile lit up her face as Kelly smiled for the first
time.  "I may ask you to write my teacher a note.  I've flunked
biology twice.  I could never dissect a dead frog without getting
sick and the sight of blood used to cause me to pass out.  I
guess I got used to it after seeing my own dripping on the floor
often enough.  I would ask you how you feel, but the book says
you won't feel anything for at least another thirty minutes or
so.  I hope I didn't do anything wrong."  Her face was very
serious by the time she had finished speaking.

"What do you mean, 'the book says?'  What book?" he asked.

"This one," she replied, holding up a medium-sized paperback. 
"It was in the bottom of the first-aid kit and I studied it
before I started.  I just hope I didn't forget anything."

"Do you mean to tell me that was bullet removal, self-taught?  I
can't believe it!"

"I'm afraid it was," she said wryly.  "I didn't think there were
any army surgeons making house calls out this way."  Her face
fell and she was close to tears.  "I'm sorry.  I have no
knowledge, no training and no skill.  I could have cost you your
leg.  And for that matter, what I did still might."

Instead of replying directly, Mike asked, "Kelly, how old are
you?"

She was still kneeling on the blanket she had spread, sitting
back on her ankles.  She was obviously surprised by the question.
 "I'm almost nineteen.  Why?"

Mike just shook his head.  "Kelly, I've seen medics handle
first-aid in the field and I've seen some of the docs work on my
friends.  That was as skillfully done as anything I've everseen.

"From the way the sweat was pouring off you, it was obvious you
were scared but you were as steady as anyone I've ever seen.  I
really don't know what I would have done if you had told me about
your lack of experience in advance.  Probably something
absolutely stupid like trying to do it myself.  You were great!"

She smiled her gratitude.  "My father's a lawyer.  I guess he
would want me to ask you to sign a release or something.  How do
you feel now?"

Mike carefully touched the bandage.  Feeling had been coming back
to his leg and it hurt but not nearly as much as it had with the
bullet still in it.  By this time, the plasma bottle had drained
and Kelly carefully withdrew the needle from his arm and put a
Band-Aid over it.  He could see she was about ready to drop.

The two sleeping bags were in sight except Kelly had moved his
next to the blanket she was using as an operating table.  He
rolled into it noticing that she had unzipped it and opened it up
all the way.  All he had to do was roll in, and he did.  He saw
her take the gasoline lantern to Ben's bag, slip off the fatigue
jacket and slide in.  A moment later she had extinguished the
light and he was asleep.

*  *  *

As he started to waken, Mike felt a wonderful sense of warmth. 
He realized Kelly was in his sleeping bag with him and his hand
was cupping her breast as she slept.  He realized he hadn't
really seen her before.  Daylight was now lighting the inside of
the tent through the tent cloth.  Coming through the camouflage
pattern, it cast the interior in strange color patterns.

Mike realized Kelly's lips were only inches away from his own. 
He tightened his grip on her beautifully formed breast and kissed
her softly on the lips.  He instantly felt her lips move under
his and her tongue started probing his mouth.  The kiss which had
started so softly became passionate almost immediately.

He felt the lovely body -- held so closely to his by the tight
diameter of the sleeping bag -- move against him.  Mike realized
he was completely naked now although he remembered getting into
the sleeping bag fully dressed.

A very soft voice in his ear breathed, "Good morning, Mike."

He held her to him and asked, "How did you get in here?"

The soft voice continued just inches from his ear, "You got
feverish last night.  First, you started fighting the sleeping
bag.  Since you were burning up, I unzipped it and took off your
clothes.  Then the fever turned to chills.  I... I got in with
you to try to warm you, and I guess we both fell asleep.  I'm
sorry," she said as she started to unzip the bag.

He stopped her hand.  "Sorry for what?  For saving my life?"

She moved her face as far from his as she could, a matter of a
few more inches.  "Mike, I'm absolutely filthy.  You...  No
decent man would ever want to associate with me.  Think of the
worst things you could do to a girl.  They've been done to me,
I've been forced to do them to myself, and I've done them with --
and to -- others.  I'm really used goods."  He could hear her
voice crack as she said it.

Then with an obvious effort of will she said, "How do you feel
this morning?  I'm pretty sure your temperature is back to
normal."

"I feel fine.  Except I haven't had a woman in months.  But I'm
sure you can feel that.  Kelly, I would like to make love to
you," he whispered.

"Please don't, Mike!  You'll catch something vile.  You can't
believe how filthy I am and how dirty and rotten I feel."

"Then why did you return my kiss?  You did, you know.  And it
tasted beautiful... fresh, clean, loving, tender.  Why?"

"I couldn't help myself.  It was a first for me.  Believe it or
not, you're the first man I've ever wanted to kiss.  Ever!  I'm
sorry.  I shouldn't have done it.  It leads you to expect more
than it's in my power to give.  You expect a nice girl, and I'm
not and can never be."

"Kelly, what do you think I expect?" he asked quietly.  "How do
you see yourself?  What have you done wrong?  Were you a
prostitute, selling your body?  Were you a slut sleeping with
anything in pants?"

Kelly was startled.  "Of course not!  But I was a prostitute of
sorts.  Of course, we didn't get paid for sex, but we were beaten
unmercifully if we weren't good, and only a little less if we
were."

"Have you done anything of your free will you're ashamed of?" he
persisted.

"No," she replied slowly, "I guess not.. at least, not since the
Russians came."

"Kelly, I need you," he said softly.  "I don't care what you say.
 I'll take the chance if you will.  Will you?"  He looked at her
lovingly and added, "I don't think I'm taking any chance at all.
And Kelly, I need you.  Will you let me make love to you?"

She kissed him passionately and whispered, "Oh, God!  Yes!"

He started to move his hand softly up and down her back.  Her
skin was as smooth as satin, but he could feel ridges under his
fingertips.  Her hand moved to his cock which was now fully
erect.  Without speaking she unzipped the sleeping bag and rolled
on top of him.  Carefully she placed his cock at the entrance to
her cunt and eased down on him.  The sensation Mike felt was
simply exquisite as he slowly penetrated her body.  Her cunt was
flooded with her juices.  In spite of what she had said about the
sexual abuse she had suffered, it was still very tight.  She now
had him inside to his full length.

"You're very big, Mike.  Probably the biggest I've ever had. 
God, it feels good!  Thank you so much."  She leaned forward over
him.

He took the opportunity to grasp her beautiful breasts and caress
them while she continued leaning forward and softly kissed him. 
His arms went around her and he held her shoulders to him as her
pelvis continued to move slowly up and down on his cock.  The
kiss was marvelous with electricity flowing between them.  Then
he could feel her loins start to shake as she had an orgasm, and
then another, and then a third.

"I forgot to tell you.  They circumcised my clit to make me cum
easier.  Mike, you feel wonderful inside me!"  She screamed the
last words as she achieved a massive orgasm that brought him over
the brink.

He emptied his massive balls into her cunt as she collapsed on
top of him.  Then she reached behind her and pulled the sleeping
bag over them while she rested on him with his cock, now losing
its massive size, still within her.  He noticed that even in her
present condition she was careful not to get close to the wound
in his leg.  When they recovered, she slid under the bag and he
could feel her tongue and lips carefully cleaning his prick. 
Finally, she slid back up and rested beside him.

"What was that?" he asked.

"Oh!  I'm sorry.  It's another habit the Russians taught me...
painfully.  After you absorbed their cum, they expected you to
lick off their cocks and then dry them with your hair.  That's
why my hair is so long."

Oddly, she chuckled.  It sounded like she was genuinely amused by
something.

"What's so damned funny?" Mike asked.

"I'm sorry, Mike.  I was just thinking.  I guess the reason I'm
not in bad shape physically is I've been getting a lot of protein
by taking men in my mouth.  Of course you learn quickly to
swallow every drop."  She formed her body to his and they slept.

They were awakened by an explosion.  Mike jerked awake, but
didn't move.  Looking at him she found he had a rather odd smile
on his face.  "What was that?" she asked.

"That's fun and games.  The first thing Ben and I did when we
found our way into this grove was to rearrange their minefield
slightly.  They patrol over this way following their map. 
Fortunately, they're moving units in and out so fast no unit has
been here long enough to really do any serious patrolling. 
Having lived with them awhile, you probably already know how
paranoid they are.  For chrissakes, even their maps are
classified!"

He slid as far away from the girl as he could to look at her
face.  She was looking at him impassively.  "Do you know how to
use a rifle?" he asked.

"I can figure it out, I guess.  Why?"

"Our mission was just to raise hell... anywhere, doing anything.
As a result, we have a lot of interesting toys.  One of them is a
silenced sniper rifle.  Care to try?"

She looked at him with a fierce grin.  "You mean I get to shoot
Russians?  Absolutely.  Mike, please show me what to do."

He picked up a staff made from a sapling that had been trimmed. 
He looked at it and then at Kelly.  "Did you make this?" he
asked.

She nodded and he could see her face fall.  "Yes, I did.  I
thought maybe you could use it to help get around.  I know it's
not very good, but it's the best I could do in the dark.  I
expect your leg has probably stiffened up by now."

He had slipped on some clothes by this time being careful not to
hit his leg.  He hobbled over to her as she sat naked on the
sleeping bag.  Pulling her upright, he was careful to keep his
weight on his uninjured right leg.  Mike hadn't realized how tall
she was before.  He estimated her height as five feet eight or
nine, compared to his own six feet three.  He wondered how such a
slight girl could move him around to undress him.  She couldn't
weigh more than 120 pounds.

He took her in his arms and kissed her softly.  "Kelly, it's
beautiful.  You never cease to amaze me.  But how did you doit?"

"Thank you," she replied.  "It was while you were burning with
fever.  I didn't think the fever would last too long.  I used
your knife to make it.  I hope I didn't ruin it for you.  And you
better check the edge.  It's probably pretty dull by now."

He just shook his head and used the staff to hobble over to the
supply tent.  After slipping on Ben's jacket, she followed him. 
When he pointed out a long slim box to her, she got down on her
hands and knees and pulled it out from under the stack of
supplies.  While she was there she saw something else and pulled
it out, too.  It was a folding camp stool that she opened up and
positioned for Mike to sit on.

He smiled his thanks and sat down while she opened the box.  He
watched in amazement as she took out the barrel and receiver
unit, put it in position on the stock and firmly screwed it down.
 She fitted the silencer over the muzzle and then put the scope
in position.  Finally, she took four loaded clips, slipped one
into the weapon and put the others in one of the capacious
pockets of her jacket.  "I think I'm all set.  You were watching,
Mike.  I assume I did it right or you would have saidsomething."

For answer, he just shook his head and grinned.  "Next time,
Kelly, I'll ask you to do it blindfolded.  The way you assembled
it so quickly, I'm sure you could do it that way, too."

He picked up a pair of binoculars and started hobbling through
the woods.  "Kelly, how in hell did you know how to do that?"

She was picking her way through the woods behind him.  He
realized she was only wearing the fatigue jacket and a soft
camouflage-patterned hat of a type worn in the jungle.  It had a
full brim that was very flexible and it hid her golden hair,
which was the main thing.  Her legs and feet were bare.  She
glanced up and said, "Two ways:  First of all my Dad's a
hunter... or was.  Mother hates guns and I guess she brainwashed
me a bit.

"Then I paid attention over the last year.  I never knew when I
might need to know how Russian weapons worked.  I think I know
how to use most of them.  Anyway, Mike, you can't believe how
good this makes me feel.  I've been on the receiving end for so
long..."

When they reached the edge of the trees she could see the patrol.
 There were eight men left alive including a junior officer and
an NCO.  A body was sprawled on the ground where the exploding
mine had thrown it and now the Soviets were lying flat, holding
their positions.

She immediately understood what she was to do, but she confirmed
it with Mike.  "This is a high-powered small-caliber weapon,
isn't it?  From the looks of the cartridge, it should have a
pretty flat trajectory for 150 to 200 meters or so.  Is that
right?"

He smiled and nodded.  "Kelly, it's sighted for 200 meters.  I
don't think you'll need any adjustments."

She grinned wickedly.  "You pick out a target -- a guy no one
else is looking at.  You identify him, and I shoot.  Right?"

"Are you sure you haven't done this before?" he teased.

Mike picked out one man separated from the others.  He noticed
Kelly was already sighting on him.  He watched her carefully fit
the sling to her arm.  While she lined up the first shot, he
could see her take a breath, let a little out, then hold.  A
moment later there was a quiet sound as the silenced rifle fired.
 He was watching with the glasses and saw the target crumple in
the boneless way characteristic of a dead man.  "Nice shot,
Kelly.  That's one for the good guys."

The officer had been talking to the NCO, and the NCO started
moving slowly and carefully toward two of his men.  Kelly put her
cross-hairs on the back of the officer's head and squeezed.  This
time she could see the bullet hit flush in the back of the skull.
 The man pitched forward and didn't move.

The rifle had a bolt action which she worked smoothly.  When the
NCO reached the two men, he looked back and saw his officer face
down in the dirt.  He gave his men their instructions and slowly
started following his track back to the officer.  The two men
started moving away and Kelly put a bullet in the NCO's forehead.
 Mike had been watching carefully.  So far he had given her no
instructions of any kind.  There were five men left -- all
privates.  Mike was impressed.  Kelly had fired three shots and
each was lethal.

She lowered her weapon to orient on the survivors, then raised it
up and continued her slaughter.  In a matter of moments, all but
one were dead.  Mike was puzzled by what she did next.  He had
his MP-5 ready as he watched the last soldier squirm closer and
closer to the edge of the grove where they were hiding.  When he
reached a small flag marking the edge of the minefield, he stood
up.  Kelly shot him from less than ten meters away.  Again, the
bullet hit his forehead and he crumpled like a puppet with its
strings cut.

Kelly carefully put down her rifle and scampered forward. 
Grabbing the man's body by the back of his collar, she started
hauling him towards their hiding place.  Mike had been watching
the affair, puzzled.

Kelly looked up and grinned wryly.  "A girl's got to get clothing
somehow.  I saved him for last.  He seemed to be the closest to
my size."

Mike let out a low whistle.  "You mean to say you let him get
this close just to get _his clothes?"_

She looked up and said, "You didn't expect me to go crawling
through the damned minefield, did you?  He could damn well get
here under his own power."

As she talked, she was rapidly stripping the clothes from the
corpse.  She made a face as she smelled the ripe odor of his
unwashed body.  Finally, she had it all.  After rolling the
corpse under a bush, she went back to their campsite, carefully
inspected the clothing and then laid them on bushes piece by
piece to air out.  She had found a clean pair of stretch socks in
the supply pack as well as a tee shirt.

She turned to Mike and asked, "Do me a favor?  Use your knife to
cut my hair?  It's been used primarily to wipe off Russian cocks
for the last year.  If I'm going to look like a Russian private,
it has to be shorter."

Mike looked at her and shook his head.  "Please don't, Kelly.  I
appreciate and understand why you're so disgusted, but your hair
is magnificent.  Could we try something less dramatic first? 
Like a pony tail or braids or something?  I really wish you
wouldn't cut it."

She looked at him, grimaced, and divided her long hair into two
parts and began braiding.  She gave him a very small smile and
said, "I don't think I've worn braids since I was five years
old."

Mike looked around for elastics to secure the braids but couldn't
find any so he cut off two small pieces of wire and twisted one
around a braid Kelly had finished and was holding.  She began to
braid the other hank.

When she was finished, she wound the braids around her head and
put on the cap after inspecting it carefully.  "You know, Mike,
that was a pretty good shot.  I didn't even spatter his brains
all over his hat."  She put it on.  Although there was a small
bulge caused by her hair, it looked fine.

Mike smiled at her and said, "Kelly, it looks great.
Incidentally, where in God's name did you learn to shoot like
that?  You reminded me of the instructor in the sniper course
shooting at targets.  How did you do it?"

"It was really pretty easy.  Even though I never did any actual
shooting before, I guess I remember a lot of the things my dad
used to tell me about firing a rifle.  Actually, it was pretty
simple.  Because of their fear of the mines, they were fixed in
position.  The rifle was perfect for me.  It has a small bore and
doesn't have a humongous kick.  All I did was center the
crosshairs and squeeze.  Isn't that the correct way?"

Mike just shook his head.  "Right out of the book.  I'll tell the
instructor if I ever see him again: eight shots and eight bodies.
 Why the head shots, though?  They're usually considered
low-percentage shots."

Kelly blushed and smiled wryly.  "Remember me telling you I
flunked biology twice?  I'm not exactly sure where the heart is.
With a small-bore rifle, I figured the only way I could be sure
of putting the target down for good was putting a bullet in the
brain.  Is that wrong?"

Mike smiled and shook his head.  He was leaning on his staff and
Kelly noticed it was carrying a lot of his weight.  She went to
his sleeping bag and opened it up.  "Mike, take off your pants
and lie down.  I want to check your bandage."

He shook his head and did as she had asked.  He liked watching
her move still wearing only the fatigue jacket.  Her legs were
the best looking pair he had ever seen.  He slipped off his
trousers and lay back.  Kelly had retrieved the first-aid manual
and was rereading the section on postoperative care.  She got
rher supplies including more antibiotic powder and a stack of
gauze compresses.  Very carefully she lifted a corner of the
bandage and then smoothly yanked it off.

He noticed she sniffed at the compress when she removed it. 
"What's that for?" he asked.

She made a face and said, "It's in the book.  It says the first
hint of gangrene is smell, not appearance.  You seem to be fine.
There was a small trickle of blood which she carefully wiped
away, then she poured on more antibiotic powder and re-bandaged
the wound.  "It looks fine, Mike.  How does it feel?"

He frowned and said, "Not too good, Kelly.  It needs something
more.  Something in the way of a large, warm compress.  I think
about five feet eight inches long, weighing about 120 pounds. 
And it moves."

Kelly looked puzzled for a moment, but then she smiled warmly. 
"You mean one with a filthy cunt that's been used by everyone for
everything?"

He shook his head.  "No.  I mean a beautiful girl who defines
lovemaking.  Will you lie beside me, Kelly?"

She smiled warmly and slipped off the combat jacket.  He was
watching as she was about to slip quickly into the sleeping bag.
Instead, she remained standing.  "Do you approve, Mike?"

He looked at her and decided she was the most beautiful girl
alive.  She was tanned all over, a fact that still puzzled him. 
Her breasts were full but not large.  Her belly was flat.  Her
slim hips started a beautiful line flowing down to her legs.  She
had the smooth muscles of a dancer but he also saw marks across
her breasts and loins.

She turned around and he saw her back.  "Is it terribly messed
up, Mike?  I've been whipped so much, my body has to be a total
wreck."

He asked her to kneel with her back to him so he could see it
better.  He saw marks which were obviously scars from the
whippings.  However, there were no disfiguring scars and they
were tanned like the rest of her back.  He ran his fingertips
gently over it, following a couple of the lines.  "Kelly, you
have a beautiful back.  I can see where they worked you over but
they don't show much at all, I'm happy to say."

As he spoke he ran his hand under her arm and cupped one of her
perfect breasts.  He gently tweaked its nipple and he could feel
it engorge.

Suddenly, Mike glanced at his watch and yelped, "Holy shit!" and
tried to get up.

Kelly looked at him in astonishment as his leg started to crumple
under his weight.

Mike sat down again, hard.  "Sorry, honey.  I forgot we have a
war to fight.  Could you please get the radio equipment in the
tent?  God, I hope you can recognize it!"

She jumped up, immediately recognizing the urgency in Mike's
voice, and went to the tent.  She came out with a radio and a
small, highly-directional antenna.  He smiled and nodded.  She
brought it over and he set up the antenna, using earphones to
listen for a carrier tone.

When he had it, he turned on the set and watched the numbers on
his digital watch.  Precisely on the minute he spoke into the
microphone, "BIBLE, this is ADAM.  Over."

A moment later came the very clear response, "ADAM this is
BIBLE."

Kelly was surprised to hear the communication in plain English. 
Mike just grinned and told base that Ben had been lost, but he
had picked up a new partner.  "She's female, but God, can she
shoot!"  He said he needed women's clothing in size six.

Then headquarters told him there was a Soviet troop concentration
at a bridge only six kilometers away from their present position.
 He was instructed to move to the concentration and raise as much
hell as possible, then move to a predesignated point for pickup.

Mike said, "We'll try, folks.  However, I took a slug in the leg
last night.  My partner removed it successfully, but I'm not
going to be running any marathons for a while.  But I guess we'll
make it.

"Incidentally, my new partner's name is Kelly Jackson.  She was a
student at the American School at Langenhagen when it was
overrun.  She's been a prisoner ever since.  Her parents live at
565 Park Avenue, New York.  It would be nice if you could tell
them their daughter is still alive."

The voice replied they would see what they could do.  He was also
advised where to pick up woman's clothing.  Finally, he was asked
Kelly's shoe size.  She replied, "It was a size 7-A.  But I've
been barefoot for the last year, so God only knows!"

He reported the information and heard a chuckle in response. 
Mike signed off and shut off the radio.

He smiled at Kelly's curiosity and explained the radio was
ultra-high frequency and highly directional to a satellite that
rebroadcast to the ground station.  "Frankly, Kelly, I don't have
the foggiest idea where the 'headquarters' that responds is!  It
could be further west in Germany, in France, in England, or even
back in the States.  Anyway, we have our orders.  Sorry!  I have
my orders.  What do you want to do?"

She looked at him seriously and said, "If killing Russians is one
of the options, that's what I want to do."  He realized that
Kelly was completely naked.  She was kneeling up straight with
her weight back on her heels.  Then he grinned and nodded.

"That's a live option.  How about if you get dressed and let's
take it from there."

Kelly got up and put on the tee shirt.  She had no underwear, so
she put on the Russian trousers.  She then put on stretch socks
she had found and tried on the dead man's boots.  Although they
were a little large, they were an adequate fit.  Then she put on
the combat jacket and the Russian hat.  "How do I look?" she
asked.

"Like a beautiful urchin," he replied with a smile.  "Let's take
a look at our toys and decide what we're going to bring out with
us.  The rest of it goes up with a demolition charge fired on a
time delay to give us time to get well clear.

"Kelly, how strong are you?" he asked with a very serious
expression.  "And please don't exaggerate.  What we take, we want
to take all the way.  But we have a ways to go."

"I guess I'm very strong," she replied.  "If you make up a full
pack for me I can carry it."

"Kelly, that would weigh over 60 pounds!  That's more than half
your weight."  he protested.

"Mike, I'll make it!  Don't worry about me.  A desire for revenge
makes me pretty strong... and I really want revenge.  I think of
little Jane...  She wasn't even fourteen when the Russians came.
She's delivered one baby and is already pregnant again... the
bastards!"

Mike shrugged and started loading the packs.  Aside from weapons
and munitions he took rations for three days.  The rest of the
material was piled together over an incendiary charge.  He
checked the two packs.

Then Kelly remembered and picked up the first-aid kit and hung it
on the back of her pack.  She had a new MP-5 and was loaded with
ammunition.  Mike nodded and after setting the demolition timer,
they moved out from the grove of trees.Chapter 2

They found themselves in position above the road where the Soviet
troop concentration had been reported.  It was a bridge over a
swift-flowing German river, the Weser.  If it could be blown, it
would be awhile before bridging equipment could be brought up to
replace it.  Moreover, the banks of the river at the highway
crossing were high and steep.  Even if a pontoon bridge were
thrown up, it would not be easy to get trucks and tanks down one
bank and up again on the opposite side.

Mike was studying the scene carefully through binoculars.  Kelly
just watched the activity for a while and then asked to borrow
his watch.  One after another, she watched individual vehicles
come through a nearby cut, move across the bridge and disappear
over the crest of the hill on the west bank.

After timing several of them, she turned to Mike.  "Would a
diversion be helpful?  Something nice and bright and loud?"

He nodded, preoccupied with his observations.

She went to their packs and prepared three small demolition
charges following the instructions he had previously given her. 
She set the digital timers, smiled at him and moved off carrying
her MP-5 with its silencer in place.  She hadn't told him what
she intended to do.

Kelly moved carefully down the slope from their place of
concealment.  It was late afternoon and the sun was low on the
horizon.  She reached the place she had been watching, a narrow
cut in the hillside from which vehicles continued to roll down
the hill, over the bridge and then up the other side.  She took
cover in a drainage ditch next to the road relying on the
camouflage pattern of her combat jacket to provide her with the
concealment she needed.  Crouching behind a boulder, she watched
the oncoming traffic.

Soon she saw what she had been waiting for: a fuel truck followed
by four heavy tanks.  Kelly knew that visibility in the tanks was
severely restricted.  For no apparent reason -- possibly training
-- the tanks were traveling fully buttoned up.  All hatches were
closed and the crews were inside.  She waited for the tank truck
to come even with her.  When the cab of the truck passed, she
armed the detonator and jumped to her feet.  Slamming it against
the fuel tank it was held it in place by adhesive material on the
charge.

Calmly she ducked, ran behind the truck and lay on her back in
the middle of the roadway as the following tank flying a pennant
from its antenna rolled over her.  She waited until it was right
above her, armed the second charge and slammed it up on the belly
of the tank.  She remained on her back in the middle of the road
and waited for the second tank to pass over her.  Again she
slapped a demolition charge in place and waited.  As soon as the
tank's tracks were clear, she rolled off the road into theditch.

She gasped as she realized she had only missed being run over by
the track of the third tank by inches.  After crawling back in
the ditch to where she had left her weapon she made her way back
up the hill.  Mike gave her a very relieved smile when he saw her
dart out from the trees back to his position.  She looked quickly
and saw the fourth tank was just moving clear of the bridge and
starting up the hill.

He asked her what she had been doing.  She just grinned and held
his wrist to look at his watch.  "If it works, you will know in
about twenty seconds."

They watched as the digital numbers advanced.  Twenty seconds
later they heard a small explosion followed a split-second later
by a much larger one from behind the ridge on the other side of
the river.  "That was a fuel truck," she said gleefully.

Moments later, there was another sequence of explosions, followed
a short time later by a third set.  "Hey Mike, your toys really
work!"

Then there was a series of explosions followed by an earthshaking
roar.  They looked across the river and were astonished to see a
stream of fire flowing down the road toward the bridge passing
under the now-stopped vehicles.  As they watched, the fuel tank
under another truck exploded from the heat of the flames beneath
it.  The truck crews and troops jumped from the vehicles and
scrambled to both sides of the road for safety.

Mike watched in amazement.  He looked at Kelly and said, "What in
the name of God did you do?"

Kelly was embarrassed.  "I'm sorry, Mike.  I was just trying to
help.  Did I really screw things up for you?"

He grinned up at her and said, "Not hardly!  We were supposed to
disrupt this crossing and you sure did.  But what did you do, and
how?"

"While you were looking at the bridge, I was timing the vehicles.
 I found that it took five to five and a half minutes from the
time a vehicle cleared the cut down there until it cleared the
ridge on the other side," she said pointing to the location where
she had placed the charges.  "I took three charges and waited.  I
saw they had fuel trucks spotted at intervals among the others --
for safety, I guess.

"Anyway, I waited in the ditch beside the road and saw the
perfect opportunity.  There was a fuel truck followed by four
tanks.  You probably noticed the tanks are traveling buttoned up
for some reason."

"I hadn't noticed, but I certainly should have," he commented
while shaking his head in embarrassment.

She continued, "Anyway, I know tanks are pretty blind,
particularly if you're up very close to them.  I set a charge
against the tank of the fuel truck and then lay down in the road.
 When the first tank rolled over me, I placed a charge under it
and then another charge under the next one.  I rolled off the
road and came back here.  Was that all right?"

Mike just shook his head.  "Kelly, you're telling me you just lay
in the middle of the road and let a tank run over you?"  She
nodded, not knowing what to say.  "How did you get off the road?"
he asked.

"I just rolled across the road into the ditch," she replied. 
"Isn't that what you're supposed to do?  I didn't think the
little charges I had would do a damn thing against the tank's
armor, but I didn't think the armor would be very thick
underneath."

"Darling, that's perfect.  How much did you clear the tread of
the next tank by?"

Kelly reddened.  "Only a couple of inches, I guess.  I didn't
move as fast as I should have."

"Kelly, dear, I have news for you.  The speed and interval of the
vehicles is supposed to be timed to make what you just did
impossible.  You're absolutely right about a tank's armor:  They
are vulnerable from below.  Did you know how much time you would
have to get clear?"

Abashed, she shook her head.  "I didn't think it was very
important.  I thought the important thing was them, not me. 
Anyway, it looks like it worked."

Her face took on an eager look and she said, "Mike, I have
another idea.  It looks like I kicked over the ant hill.  How
about if I finish it up by blowing the bridge?  You can cover me
from up here.  You aren't in any shape to move fast, but I can."

As they spoke, they saw Russian troops and officers scurrying
around like ants after their anthill had been destroyed.  "I can
take advantage of the confusion to plant the charges.  The only
problem is I don't know where to plant them on a bridge."

The bridge was a concrete arch spanning the river.  Mike showed
her where to place the charges using a diagram he made in the
dirt.  Then she took one of the large demolition packs and went
down the hill.  He swallowed hard as he saw her stopped by a
challenge at the eastern end of the bridge.  Somehow she got
clear of the sentry and jogged across it, dropping from the edge
of the roadway to the embankment below.

She went down to one of the arch ends butted into the side of the
hill where a sentry was posted to guard against sabotage.  Mike
could see the area clearly from his vantage point.  He saw Kelly
slip off her demolition pack and move up behind the guard who had
his back to her while he was smoking a cigarette and watching the
turmoil on the bridge overhead.

The next thing Mike saw was her right arm coming across the
guard's throat.  He saw a movement of her left arm and then the
body dropped to the ground.  Moments later she had the pack in
position and started retracing her steps back to the position
from which he had observed the whole affair.

Twenty minutes later she rejoined him.  "Do you mind if I take a
break?" she asked.  "I'm out of breath."

Mike just shook his head and went for their rations.  After he
opened up a pack for her, she gulped water from the canteen and
then started to eat.  "How did you get by the guard, Kelly?  I
saw him challenge you and thought the game was over."

"I just told him I had to report to Major Vishinsky.  I had
special supplies," she answered.

"Who's Major Vishinsky?" Mike asked.

She smiled wickedly.  "He's my late unlamented lover."

Suddenly Mike's eyes widened.  "Of course!  You speak fluent
Russian now, don't you?"

"Let's say it was a part of my painful course of study.  It is
pretty good.  It's the Moscow accent which impresses the peasants
who make up the body of the troops around here.  They don't
recognize the fatigue jacket, but they're too shook up to think
straight," she replied.

"What did you do with the guard?  I saw you come up behind him
and then he crumpled," Mike said.

"I guess it's a youth misspent watching old war movies.  I
grabbed him around the neck and slipped my knife up between his
ribs.  Was that correct?" she asked anxiously.

"He appears to be dead.  Is he?" Mike asked.

"He dropped like a stone, Mike, and there wa no pulse.  He's
pretty dead."

She took out her knife and looked at it in the fading light. 
Borrowing a whetstone, she started to hone a nick out of the
blade.  "Damn!" she said, "I guess I caught a bit of his rib."

She finished eating, then picked up another demolition charge. 
He watched her move down the hill again.  He could still hear
occasional explosions from beyond the ridge.  Apparently the
exploding fuel truck had triggered the explosion of at least one
ammunition truck.  Kelly had engineered a first-rate mess.  Again
after a challenge at the bridge she crossed.  He couldn't see the
other abutment from his position so he just sweated it out.

About forty minutes later, he felt soft lips on his cheek and he
jumped.  Kelly was there, smiling.  "My God, Darling!" he
exclaimed, "That's dangerous.  What if I had started shooting?"

She smiled at him and asked, "With what?"  He reached for his gun
and she held it up along with his knife.  "I was pretty safe...
from everything except that magnificent weapon you carry between
your legs," she said.

"I'm sorry, Mike.  I guess I'm getting a little punchy.  I'd
better get moving.  I want to blow this bridge and get the hell
out of here within the next two hours."

"Kelly, I'm supposed to be good.  I'm awake.  Yet you came up
behind me, took my gun and knife and then kiss me.  It's scary. 
If you can, the Russians can, too."  Mike was worried.

"No they can't!" she said with a smile, pointing down.  Mike saw
she was barefoot.  Obviously, she had planned and executed her
maneuver very well.  When he held out his arms, she went down on
her knees and came to him.  He kissed her softly and then with
increasing passion.

Gently she pushed away.  "Thank you, Mike.  And would you please
hold that thought while I take care of this damned bridge?"

Again she went down the hill.  Now it was full dark.  With the
traffic still at a standstill it was easy to cross the road.  The
vehicles were stopped in an unbroken line with only a few feet
separating them.  Twenty minutes later she returned and got the
last of the heavy charges.  Finally, after thirty minutes more,
she returned.  "Mike, do you have a cigarette?" Kelly asked.

He looked at her and took a small pack from the K-ration
container and gave it to her.  She lighted it, taking great pains
to hide the glowing end.

"I didn't know you smoked," he said.

"I don't," she replied, "but tonight is different.  I need
something to steady my nerves.  That last one was tough.  I had
to take out three guys this time.  But actually, Mike, I'm
getting pretty good at it."

"How many is that?" he asked.

"It's seven with my knife.  I don't know about the other
casualties.  Mike, I'm afraid I'm going to have to borrow your
watch.  I need it to set the timers properly," she said.  He took
it off and gave it to her.  She took the last two small charges
as well as her silenced MP-5 down the hill.

It took almost an hour this time.  Again, the first hint of her
presence was a kiss on the cheek.  This time, he took her in his
arms and thoroughly kissed her.

"Yum," she whispered, "you taste so good."  She checked the watch
and said "Less than one minute to go."  She gave Mike his watch
back and, with their heads together, watched the time pass.

Suddenly, the bridge was lighted by tremendous explosions.  They
could see the arch on the far side of the river start to buckle.
As if in slow motion, the center of the span began to sag as its
supports at both ends were blown away.  Suddenly there was
another explosion from their right -- the cut through the ridge
where Kelly had waylaid the fuel truck and tanks.  Moments later
there was another.

Mike looked at her and shook his head.  They heard screams as the
span collapsed into the river valley below.  The roadway had been
split almost exactly in half.  Then they saw flaming fuel flowing
down the road and again start to cook off the fuel in the stopped
trucks.

They both ducked as there was another colossal explosion from the
cut.  "I did it!" Kelly screamed.  "I found a fuel truck stopped
right behind a truck with the Russian markings for a load of
ammunition.  I think I may have screwed up the cut through the
ridge with any kind of luck.  Mike, how about if we get the hell
out of here?"

He smiled and they moved off with Mike using the walking stick
she had made for him.

Mike followed his map to an abandoned barn.  He went inside to a
hiding place under the manger indicated in his notes from the
radio transmission.  The hay was so old and dry it had long since
passed the point where it smelled of fermentation.  Concealed
there was a package of women's clothing and a new Smith & Wesson
9mm. automatic with a waistband holster.  The weapon held a
15-shot clip and there were three fully-loaded spares.

"Are we safe here for the rest of the night?" Kelly asked.  "I'm
about ready to drop."

Mike looked at her, feigning surprise.  "You're tired?  I can't
believe it!  All you did was blow the most important bridge in
this part of Germany and take a big piece out of a Russian
armored division.  And you're tired already?"

He smiled and held out his arms.  She returned the smile but
remained where she was standing.  He watched as she calmly
stripped off her clothes and then came to him.

"You'll have to hold me close, Mike.  I'm getting cold."

Mike took two blankets and stripped off his own clothes.  He
hugged her as they lay on the hay and he wrapped the blankets
around them.  Then he held her close and felt her immediately
drop off to sleep.Chapter 3

The next morning Mike was the first to awaken.  He was holding
the beautiful golden girl in his arms.  When he kissed her cheek
softly, he instantly felt her fingers start to move on his body.

She moved her head and kissed him softly on the lips.  "Good
morning, darling," she whispered.  "How does your leg feel?"

"It's fine, honey.  I want to make love to you, but I'm scared. 
We have to go through a small town to get to the pickup point. 
There's sure to be a garrison there, and after your fun yesterday
they're bound to be very twitchy.  Can you wait?"

She looked at him with her love showing in her eyes.  Never
having seen it before, Mike didn't recognize it for what it was.

Kelly said, "I've been used and abused for a year, Mike.  You can
have me any time, but I've had enough of a workout that I can
live without you for a few hours."

She grinned and rolled out of the blanket.  "I stink.  On the
other hand, any German still around here now wouldn't smell too
good, either.  Let's get rolling."

Kelly got up and put on the clothing that had been hidden for
her.  "Where did all of this stuff come from?" she asked.

"I don't know, but I assume it's the German underground.  The
system works pretty well.  We avoid direct contact.  If we're
taken, we can sing like canaries, but we know nothing. 
Similarly, they don't know anything that's dangerous to us."

Kelly was wearing a peasant blouse and skirt along with a jean
jacket.  She stuck the automatic in the waistband at the small of
her back.  Mike continued to wear his uniform knowing that Allied
uniforms were well-made and were being worn by people on both
sides of the line in Germany.  He picked up his staff and they
started down the road.

When they reached the edge of the town they were challenged by
sentries.  Mike answered them in German and it seemed that they
had been cleared to pass.  They started to make their way towards
the center of the town when a Russian officer wearing the
insignia of the KGB appeared with four men.

He smiled a very cold smile and had them seized.  One of his men
searched Mike and found his automatic.  They were immediately
placed under arrest, taken to the town hall which had been
commandeered as the local headquarters and then down to a room in
the cellar for questioning.  Kelly was still wearing her hair in
braids which were now hanging below her shoulders.  When they
reached the cellar they were taken to a central area set up for
questioning prisoners.

The Russian introduced himself in German as Lieutenant Krepkin. 
He asked what they were doing in the town.  Mike tried to act
like he was suffering from shock.

He had trouble speaking and sounded feeble-minded.  His act
didn't work.

"We will get the truth," Krepkin said.  "Young lady, take off
your clothes!"

Kelly acted frightened but was secretly elated.  She still hadn't
been searched.  She took off her clothes with the appearance of
reluctance.  Actually, she was just being careful not to drop her
automatic or allow it to be seen.  Soon she was naked and
cowering, trying to cover her breasts and loins with her arms and
hands.

One of the guards grabbed her and lashed her to a large post in
the center of the room.  Her arms were wrapped around the post
and her wrists were lashed together on the opposite side.  Mike
was tied to a chair.

"You will tell us what you are doing," Krepkin said to Mike, "or
this woman will be whipped until you do."

Tied to the post, Kelly could see nothing.  She prayed Mike would
not lose his nerve.  She heard him again say he knew nothing. 
She could hear a whip uncoiled.  It cracked across her shoulder
blades and she screamed.  A second stroke, and she screamed
louder in abject terror.

She babbled in colloquial German, "Hans, tell them!  You must
tell them.  Tell them anything!"

The whip struck her again, and she appeared to faint.  She just
hung limply on the post suspended by her bonds.  She had been
screaming as the lash cut into her, and her scream was cut off as
if with a knife.  Krepkin looked at her and then at Mike.  Sweat
was pouring off his face.  Krepkin went to Kelly and slapped her
face.  Her head just lolled as if she were a puppet without
strings.

He tried to question Mike who just babbled.  Finally, he decided
to try the whip on him.  He regretted that the fraulein had
fainted.  If she had continued to scream, the man might have
talked.  He motioned to one of the three guards in the room to
cut the girl down.  The guard took his knife and sliced through
the ropes holding her wrists.  Freed from the post, the girl fell
limply to the stone floor landing on some of her clothing. 
Krepkin focused his attention on the man.  He called the guards
over to lift the man up and tie him to the post.  The fourth
Russian, the one who had wielded the whip, was coiling it up to
get ready for his next victim.

Kelly had been watching through nearly-closed eyes.  When the
guards' attention was focused on Mike, she slid her hand into the
skirt and drew out the Smith & Wesson.  Fortunately, she
remembered, it was a double-action automatic.  It wasn't
necessary to cock the slide before firing.  Still face down, she
lifted her head and saw the Russians were concentrating on Mike.
The weapon fired once, twice, then three more times in rapid
fire.

Kelly stood up, grabbed a knife on the floor, and cut Mike's
bonds.  Then she calmly picked up her clothes and started getting
dressed.

Mike was shaking his head in amazement.  "Before you put on your
blouse, honey, let me take a look at your back."

She went to him and turned around.  There were the three welts
across her back with blood flowing slowly from the cuts. 
"They're fine, Mike.  I'm glad you took your cue from my screams
in German.  How did it sound, by the way?  Do I get an Academy
Award nomination?"  As she talked, she was checking the bodies on
the floor.  All four Russians were dead.

Mike got out of the chair and limped around to look at them. 
Each had at least one 9mm bullet hole in his head.  The man
wielding the whip had two.  Kelly winced slightly as she put on
the jean jacket.

"What about noise?" he asked.  "What if we have to fight our way
out?"

"We won't," Kelly replied.  "I'm pretty sure this room was used
at least as far back as the Third Reich by the Gestapo, and
possibly before that.  It has all the earmarks of being
soundproofed so screams wouldn't disturb the good burghers in the
neighborhood.  If screams aren't heard, my automatic won't be,
either.  Shall we go?

"By the way, Mike, let me handle getting us out of here."

They climbed the steps and opened the door.  A guard posted at
the door just looked at them curiously.  As she was opening the
door, Kelly was speaking over her shoulder, apparently to Krepkin
down in the dungeon.  She was speaking perfect idiomatic Russian.
 "Yes, Lieutenant.  I will give your regards to Major Vishinsky
in Langenhagen.  Yes, Lieutenant, I will instruct the corporal to
give us a pass out of town.  Goodbye, Lieutenant."

She turned to the guard and said, "Lieutenant Krepkin does not
wish to be disturbed!"

Kelly marched up to the corporal at the desk and said coldly,
"Two passes, quickly.  We've been delayed too long already."

The corporal quickly scribbled two passes.  Kelly took them, gave
him a cold nod and started striding for the door.  Meanwhile,
Mike was scrambling with his walking stick, trying to keep up. 
They went down the street to the checkpoint at the other side of
town where Kelly gave a guard the passes and a curt nod.  She and
Mike continued walking down the road.

When they were well clear, Mike looked at her in utter amazement.
 "Kelly, would you like a job?  Now I'm being very serious. 
Would you?  You speak fluent idiomatic German and perfect
Russian.  After being beaten with a whip you calmly draw your
automatic and put bullets in the heads of four armed men.  We can
use you in our little group if you have any interest."

He looked at her and asked, "By the way, you did it again.  All
your bullets were in the head.  I thought you were going for
larger targets... like bodies?"

Kelly grinned and replied, "Come on, Mike!  We're talking a 9mm,
not a .45 caliber.  It doesn't have a hell of a lot of stopping
power.  On the other hand, few people do a lot of walking around
with a bullet in the brain.  That's where they went, isn't it?"

Mike just shook his head and nodded.  "By the way, you scared
hell out of me.  You were screaming as you were being whipped and
then you collapsed.  The next thing I know shots are fired and
all the bad guys got suddenly dead.  What happened?"

"Remember my painful education?  I've been beaten more times than
I can count.  It was every day for months.  This guy wasn't the
kind of expert we had at school who could wrap the whip into a
girl's cunt, across her nipples or into her kidneys.  Mike, I've
been abused by experts.  This was really almost child's play.  I
don't mean to make light of it.  It doesn't tickle.  On the other
hand, I'm not in such bad shape, either."

They continued to walk along the road.  First they passed a copse
of trees and then came to a field on the left side of the road. 
"This looks like it, Kelly," Mike said.

They clambered over a fence with Kelly giving Mike a hand.  There
they found a place where hay had been cut and raked but not
gathered.  Mike thought it was probably the point in the hay
cutting when the Russian armored columns came sweeping through.

When they were across the field Kelly asked, "How's your leg,
Mike?  You seem to be getting along all right."

"It's fine, honey.  By the way, what do you think about my offer?
 Do you have any interest in working with us until this mess is
over?"

She looked at him and then put her arms around him.  "Mike, I
will, assuming your folks want me.  There are two conditions,
though:  First, I would like to see my parents which fits in with
the second: I only want to work with you, and you're going to be
out of commission for a while.  You're going to tell me that's
impossible and I'm going to say it's not, and if it really is I'm
staying out."

She looked at him and he saw her beautiful eyes tear up.  She
pulled his head down and kissed him softly on the lips.  Finally,
she pushed away and asked, "Mike, how are they getting us out of
here, and when?"

He looked at his watch and said, "They're getting us out in a
chopper.  It's one that can be silenced almost to a whisper. 
It's due here in about one hour."  He found the flashlight that
had been hidden for them to use to signal it.

She smiled and said, "The timing's great.  It gives us time for
you to make love to me.  It seems to be the least you can do
since I blew up a bridge, an armored column, and saved your ass
in town."

Kelly gathered up some of the cut hay and piled it up to form a
bed.  She kissed him and pulled him down on top of her.  Mike
took her blouse off and ran his fingers over her bare breasts. 
Then he heard her make little mewing noises as he continued to
caress her.  He slipped off his pants and lifted her skirt for
access to her loins.  His finger slipped in and found her little
love button which he touched as gently as he could, remembering
what she had told him.  He could feel her body shudder as his
finger made contact.  Her vagina was already running rivers.

Ignoring the pain in his wounded leg, he knelt between her now
widespread thighs.  Her fingers grasped his throbbing member and
he heard her making soft sounds of pleasure as she guided it to
the mouth of her vagina.  She lifted her pelvis and positioned
his cock.  Then she wrapped her legs around his hips and gently
pulled him towards her.  She was so well lubricated by her
vaginal fluids he slid right in to his full length.

She could feel him inside and said, "Mike, I could die happy
right now.  God, you feel good inside me!"  She started to roll
her pelvis and use her vaginal muscles to squeeze his cock. 
Suddenly her head started to thrash from side to side and her
pelvis took on a life of its own as she had an orgasm.

Mike tried to relax as her passion slowly ebbed.  He was on top
of her and bent over to kiss her lips.  As his lips made contact
her eyes opened and she responded with her tongue probing his
mouth.

Mike started to stroke in and out slowly.  She looked at him and
smiled softly.  "Please don't stop, darling," she said.  "It
feels so marvelous!"

He continued his long strokes in and out of the warm, moist glove
enveloping his sex.  Kelly came again, and yet again.  Finally,
with a scream she exploded bringing him with her.  He could feel
a flood of fluid forcing its way past his cock and spilling over
them.  He collapsed on top of her as she held him tightly and
felt the last spurts enter her vagina.

Mike heard her whisper softly, "Thank you, Mike.  That was
wonderful... the best ever.  Maybe there's hope for me yet."

Then he grabbed a jacket and pulled it over them both to ward off
the chill.  He could see her doze off in his arms.

They remained there until Mike heard the characteristic sound of
a Blackhawk helicopter running in its quiet mode.  He got to his
feet and pulled Kelly up with him.  Grabbing the light, he aimed
it at the helicopter and flashed the recognition signal.  Taking
her hand, he led her towards the middle of the field.  The
chopper landed quickly.  Its already-low noise level was reduced
to near-silence when the pilot throttled the engines back to
their idle position.

Mike saw the waist hatch open and saw a door gunner in position
at his minigun.  He hobbled up to the chopper and gave the
recognition phrase.

The crewman at the door said, "Welcome, Major Callahan!  Glad you
made it back.  I'm sorry to hear about Captain Johnson.  I
understand you have another passenger for us."

Mike smiled and waved for Kelly to join them.  She came running
up.  "This is Kelly Jackson.  She's the other person you came to
pick up.  When we get back, there's going to be a very
interesting story to be told.  Where are we going, by the way?"

"We've been told to get you back to England.  Get aboard, and
we'll get the show on the road."

He gave Kelly a hand up and then helped Mike in.  They found jump
seats and fastened the seat harness.  The crewman spoke into his
intercom mike and the noise of the engines increased.

Moments later the helicopter lifted off, tilted forward and
started picking up speed and altitude.  When they reached 1,000
feet, the pilot cut off the mufflers to increase the available
power.  The Blackhawk was one of the fastest helicopters in the
air.  Moments later they cleared the front lines, moved over the
Rhine and then across France.

Before long, they reached the English Channel at the Calais area.
 Soon they were over the Kent beaches in England heading toward
London.  When they came over a country farm property surrounding
a British manor house, the pilot set down at a marker on the
lawn.  "You're here, Major.  Do you need a hand?"

Mike shook his head and extended his hand to Kelly who had been
sleeping, although he couldn't figure out how she could possibly
sleep with all the noise.  She blinked and smiled at him
sleepily.  She took his hand and he helped her up.  Kelly
remained bent over to keep clear of the equipment hanging from
the roof.  Mike stepped out of the chopper being careful to put
his weight on his good leg.  He lifted her by the waist and swung
her down to the ground.

Kelly grinned and poked him in the arm.  "Now that we're safe,
Mike, are you showing off for the girls?  That leg needs
attention, honey.  Please don't push it."

He used the staff she had cut for him and they went off in the
direction of the house.  A uniformed aide -- a young Army first
lieutenant -- came running over.  He saluted, still on the run. 
Kelly saw Mike smile wryly and return his salute.

The officer said, "Major Callahan?"  Mike nodded and he
introduced himself, "Sir, I'm John Hughes, aide to the colonel. 
He asked me to get you to his office as soon as possible."

Kelly stepped in front of Mike and said, "How do you do,
Lieutenant.  I'm Kelly Jackson and I'll make a deal with you. 
I'll go see the colonel and you will send for an ambulance to get
Major Callahan to the hospital."

She had shaken Hughes' hand and smiled, but when she mentioned
the hospital her voice was cold as ice.  "Now!"

Mike was amused and impressed by the command presence in her
voice.  Hughes jumped and saluted.  Kelly was amused as well.  It
was obvious he had no idea what a Kelly Jackson was but she acted
important.  The lieutenant took a radio from his belt and spoke a
few words into it.  A few minutes later an ambulance pulled up
the driveway nearby and two attendants ran over with a stretcher.
 Mike waved the stretcher away and started limping over towards
them.

Hughes was dumbstruck when Kelly pulled Mike's head down and
kissed him softly on the lips.  "I'll see you at the hospital,
sweetheart," she whispered.  Mike got in and the ambulance moved
off.  Then Kelly turned to Hughes and said, "Lead on, Lieutenant.
 Let's not keep the colonel waiting."

He took her through the gracious main entrance of the manor house
to the central hall, then turned left.  He knocked at a door and
entered.  Kelly followed him in.

The room, now obviously serving as the colonel's office, was
formerly the library.  It was a magnificent room rising two
stories high.  The bookshelves reached to the ceiling and were
accessible by two rolling ladders.  There was an immense
fireplace on the side of the room, but the hearth was cold now
that spring had come to England.  The colonel's desk was at the
end of the room and she followed the lieutenant towards it.

The man behind it -- the colonel, obviously -- was grey-haired
and wearing a tweed sport jacket.  He had turned in his swivel
chair and was facing the window behind him talking on a telephone
in low tones.  He heard them approach, ended his conversation and
spun around to see them.  He appeared puzzled, obviously looking
for Mike.

"Are you looking for something, Colonel?" Kelly inquired
politely.

"Who in hell are you, young lady?  Where's Callahan?" he barked.

"I'm Kelly Jackson," she replied in a very cold voice.  "Who in
hell are you?  Are you so damned rude and arrogant you don't have
the common courtesy to offer a seat to a lady, let alone rise
when she enters the room?  I thought you were supposed to be an
officer and a _gentleman!"_

The colonel looked like he was about to have apoplexy.  His face
became red as a beet and then slowly his color returned to
normal.  Meantime, Kelly had been standing up straight in front
of the desk looking at him without expression.

Suddenly, the colonel rose to his feet, smiled, held out his hand
and said, "How do you do, Miss Jackson.  I'm Tom Hawkins, and I'm
very pleased to meet you.  I apologize for being so abrupt. 
Won't you please be seated?"  He turned to Hughes and said, "Ask
the steward to bring Miss Jackson some refreshments immediately.
Miss Jackson, am I correct in assuming you haven't eaten much
lately?"

Kelly smiled and then frowned.  "I guess it must have been
yesterday morning, Colonel, and it's very thoughtful of you.  I
would be happy to have whatever they can handle, along with a
beer if you have any.  I haven't had a beer in almost a year and
I'm dying for one."

Hawkins nodded and Hughes excused himself to take care of the
order.  Hawkins regarded her steadily and liked what he saw.  It
was obvious that this woman was quite young and yet she had the
poise and savoir-faire of someone far older.  He said as much and
Kelly smiled.  "You can give credit to the Russians for much of
my training."

He looked puzzled and asked, "Where did you come from, Miss
Jackson?  I gather you were evacuated with Callahan."

Kelly briefly told the story of the school being captured and the
enslavement of its former students.  She explained that she had
been waiting for a diversion to slit the commandant's throat and
escape by sliding down the drain.  She did it and then linked up
with Callahan.

"He certainly did a hell of a job on that bridge, Miss Jackson. 
You got to watch a real professional in action."

Just than the door opened and Mike came in on crutches.  Kelly
saw he was still holding on to the staff she had cut for him.  He
hobbled up to the desk, saluted, and sat down.

Kelly glared at him.  "Why did they let you out?  Get back in the
damned hospital where you belong!"

Hawkins looked puzzled and asked Mike, "Does this young lady
order everyone around?  Has she no respect for age or rank?"

Mike grinned, looked at Kelly and winked, and then back at
Hawkins.  "No, sir.  Never!  Did I hear you talking about blowing
the bridge?  How did it work out?"

"Mike, it was brilliant!  How in hell did you trigger those
explosions on the far side of the river?  We thought that you
might have used weapons -- a grenade launcher or a mortar. 
Except you didn't have a mortar and a launcher doesn't have the
range or the punch.  How did you do it?"

Mike smiled and shook his head.  "First, Colonel, let me clear up
a misapprehension.  I did nothing.  Miss Jackson did it all.

"Let me start at the beginning.  We got caught, somehow, at the
school.  I'm not certain exactly what it's used for now.  Ben got
cut down in a firefight.  I had just planted the guards who got
him when another guard was about to bury me.  He was less than
ten feet behind me with an AK-47 trained on my back.  I had
bought the farm.

"Suddenly a bare arm grabs him around the neck, there's a motion
and he collapses.  It's a girl absolutely naked except for a
wicked knife in her hand.  She carefully wiped the blood off the
knife blade on the guard's uniform and we joined up.  That's the
first time Kelly saved my life.

"When we got back to the camp site, I told her to sprint for the
trees.  I told her to try to step on the grass tufts because she
was going through a minefield.  She darted through like a scared
rabbit.  As I followed her shots were fired and I took a bullet
in the leg.  I made it the rest of the way in.  That night, she
operated and removed the bullet from my leg.

"The reason I'm here so fast is the surgeon at the hospital
didn't know what I was there for.  He said, and I quote, 'The guy
who handled the original surgery did it all.  What do you want me
to do besides putting on a clean Band-Aid?'  Of course, Kelly was
the surgeon.

"She's fully trained, Colonel, having qualified, she tells me, by
flunking biology twice.  She said she couldn't bear to dissect a
dead frog.  A live Callahan bleeding all over the place is
apparently easier to work on than a dead frog."  He grinned at
Kelly who responded by sticking out her tongue.

He continued.  "Then, Colonel, the next day I gave her training
in riflery.  You should always exercise the troops, right, sir? 
Anyway, a Russian patrol came towards the woods looking for us. 
Unfortunately, they didn't know Ben and I had rearranged their
minefield a little.  A mine exploded, taking one of the men. 
Miss Jackson then proceeds to take out the remaining eight with
eight shots.  All head shots in the brain.  She even has the gall
to let the last man get right to the edge of the woods before she
plants him.  Can you guess why?"

The colonel just shook his head.  He was utterly fascinated with
the report.

"She wanted his pants and shoes.  He was the smallest and she
said she wasn't going to crawl through the damned minefield when
he could just as easily come to her under his own power.  Of
course, the bullet was right between the eyes... sort of a third
eye socket.  By the way, sir, that was the first time she ever
fired a weapon.  I asked her why all the head shots.  She
reminded me her biology was terrible and she could never remember
where the heart was."  He looked at Kelly who was blushing and
looking down at her hands.

"Then we get the order to harass the Russians at the bridge." 
Mike held up the staff and passed it over to the colonel.  "Kelly
made this for me the first night after I was hit.  I was running
a fever, so between times nursing me she used my knife to cut
down a young tree and make this walking stick.  Then, of course,
she has the nerve to apologize for dulling my knife.  Now it's my
good-luck charm.

"We got to the bridge, but it was all I could do to get there. 
So I watched while Kelly did it all.  Her idea of harassing a
bridge is to blow it up along with as much traffic as she can
manage.  You asked about stopping traffic?  Kelly placed charges
on a fuel truck and two tanks, letting the tanks drive over her,
by the way.  She had timed the vehicles from the point where she
planted the charges to where they went over the ridge on the far
side of the river.  Anyway, they blew and obviously blew up an
ammunition truck with them.  That stopped traffic.

"She then made four trips with the full demolition charges, two
of which required crossing the guarded bridge.  She spoke to the
guards in her perfect Russian and did it, taking out six or seven
guards with her knife in the process.  Then she blows up an
ammunition truck and another fuel truck at about the same time as
the bridge charges blew."

He snapped his finger and added, "Oops, I almost forgot.  She
crossed the bridge a third time to set all the detonators. 
Again, she had to borrow my watch so all the charges would go at
the same time.  The last we saw, the bridge was broken in the
center with its two pieces lying in the river.

"Are they operating the crossing yet, Colonel?"

The colonel shook his head and said, "No, they're not, and our
experts don't think they ever will.  Miss Jackson apparently took
out a good piece of an armored division as a by-product.  Then
what did she do?"

Mike quickly told how they were captured and questioned.  He
explained how Kelly had been stripped and whipped.  When it
appeared she was unconscious, she had been cut down and the
Russians focused their attention on him.

"Then Kelly pulled an automatic she had in her skirt and burned
them all.  She used her fluent Russian to obtain passes through
the town to the pickup point.  So, Colonel, Kelly saved my life
three times and singlehandedly carried out our mission for us.  I
was an interested spectator, that's all."

Hawkins looked at Mike and said, "She can obviously fire a gun,
but can she carry one concealed?  She didn't draw when you were
arrested."  He turned to Kelly and found himself looking down the
muzzle of her automatic.  "Where, in the name of God, did _that_
come from?" he exclaimed.

Kelly made a quick motion and the weapon disappeared into the
waistband holster she was still wearing in the small of her back.
 "I'm sorry, Colonel," Kelly said with the smile belying the
apologetic tone of voice.  "That was showing off."

Just then a steward opened the door and wheeled in a serving
cart.  When Kelly and Mike turned their attention to the food,
the questioning stopped while they ate.  Kelly was delighted to
find several beers on ice.  She poured one for Mike and one for
herself.  They clinked glasses and she sipped it appreciatively.

"That is ogood!  Thank you, Colonel," she said.  She looked at
him and smiled.  "If there's nothing else, I would appreciate a
bath and a bed.  And if there are any women's clothes that fit, I
would appreciate those, too.  These are getting pretty grungy."

Hawkins picked up his phone and placed a call.  A few moments
later a WAC officer came in and escorted Kelly out of theoffice.

Hawkins looked at Callahan and said, "Mike, now that she's out of
here, is there anything you want to add to your report?  Or
change?"

"Yes, sir.  I want to add two things: First, I would like us to
enlist Kelly, retroactively.  Second, if there has ever been a
person who deserves a medal for heroism in combat, she's it!  I
would also like her in my unit, sir."

"What's her educational background?  Does she have a degree?"
Hawkins asked.

Mike laughed.  "A degree?  Colonel, she doesn't even have a
high-school diploma!  She was a junior in high school when the
Russians took over.  Colonel, she says she has a higher degree,
taught by the Russians with whips.  She speaks both Russian and
German like a native, sir.  Her skills and instincts are superb.

"I down-played the bridge a little bit.  While I was watching the
traffic and the Russians like a damned tourist, she's sizing up
the situation and figures it would be easier to cross the bridge
to set the charges if there were a major diversion that would
stop traffic.  She figured emergency crews would be running back
and forth with the traffic at a complete stop.  Furthermore, she
kind of liked the idea of blowing the bridge with transport
covering it bumper to bumper.

"Incidentally, I didn't tell her anything.  She just knew that
tanks are blind at close range.  She noticed they were traveling
closed up.  Then she looked for a fuel truck in company with some
tanks.  When she rolled out from under the second tank, the third
only missed her by inches.  It was then I told her that the
interval is set to minimize the chance of having enough time to
do exactly what she did: roll between two vehicles."  He shrugged
and asked, "What more do you want, sir?"

"Okay, Mike, we'll sign her up if she's willing.  Is she?"

"Yes, sir.  But there are conditions: First, she wants to serve
with me.  Second, she wants some time to visit her parents in New
York.  I would like to go with her, sir.  It's going to take
awhile for me to get back to normal, anyway."

As Mike was speaking, he suddenly saw the colonel's jaw drop.  He
exclaimed, "Mike, did you say her name is Jackson?  Kelly
Jackson?"

"Yes, sir.  What's the problem?"

"Oh, my God!  Mike, I've got to make a phone call right away."

He picked up a red scrambler phone which was a direct link to
headquarters.  When it was answered he said, "This is Hughes.  We
have the Jackson girl out safe.  What do you want us to do now?"
He listened for a few moments and said, "Yes, sir.  She's
upstairs now.  She wanted to take a bath and sleep.

"Sir, this girl is something else.  I don't know what her parents
think, but I _know_ this girl is deadly!  She's the one who blew
the Weser bridge.  She was the one who figured out how to make a
dent in an armored division.  General, she's deadly with small
arms.  I want her in my unit.  And General, with your permission
I'm enlisting her with the rank of captain retroactive to the
first of last month.  I'm also sending you a recommendation for a
citation:  She deserves the Medal of Honor.

"I'll be sure she's on the Concorde tomorrow morning, along with
Major Callahan.  He was wounded and needs the time off, too."

He turned to Mike and smiled.  "It seems the young lady's parents
are very powerful, very rich and very influential.  Would you
please escort her back to the States?  Her parents want to see
her, and the President thinks they should.  How about getting
some rest, too?"  He smiled warmly and continued, "Mike, would I
be correct in assuming that you and Miss Jackson may have been...
intimate?"

Mike nodded.  "Yes, sir.  I didn't mention it, because I didn't
want to embarrass Kelly.  She was repeatedly raped by the
Russians and ended up as the commandant's mistress.  She slit his
throat with his own knife.  Then she used her body to keep me
warm when I was shaking with chills, sir, and one thing led to
another.  Why?"

Hawkins smiled warmly and said, "Because we're cramped for space
here.  Would you mind sharing the room with Captain Jackson until
you leave for the States tomorrow?"

Mike stood up and gave the colonel his best salute.  "Yes, sir!"

He hobbled out the door and was directed to their room on the
second floor.  By now he had gotten used to his crutches and made
his way to the room, following directions.  He opened the door
quietly and entered the darkened room.  Making his way to the
bed, he saw Kelly lying with her hair spread like a fan on the
pillow. _God, she's beautiful,_ he thought.

He stripped off his clothes, went into the bathroom and took a
quick shower taking care to keep the bandage on his leg dry.  He
dried himself and went back to the bedroom.  Easing into the bed
beside her nude body he kissed her softly on the lips.  He was
surprised at the immediate response from the girl who appeared to
be sleeping.

Kelly murmured softly and then relaxed again.  He felt her warm,
velvet-smooth body next to his.  He put his arm around her and
she snuggled close.  He cupped his hand and placed it on her
breast.  Again she made a contented sound and put her hand over
his to keep it in position.

In an instant, Mike was asleep beside her.Chapter 4

The next morning, Mike woke up, still holding Kelly in his arms,
and looked around the room.  He had been so tired when he came in
the day before he hadn't paid much attention to his surroundings.
 They were in a huge canopied bed.  The room was wood paneled --
probably oak, he thought.  A huge armoire sat across from the
bed.  The room would make a perfect setting for a Gothic novel. 
He looked at Kelly and saw that her blue eyes were open and
focused on him.  Her hand was over his as he still cupped her
breast.

Giving it a gentle squeeze he saw her eyes close as she made a
warm happy sound.  "That feels so good, Mike.  Don't stop."

He looked at his watch and said, "Do you know what time it is?"

She smiled and shook her head.  "No, and I don't care, either. 
Can't we just stay like this?  I've never felt so warm and
snugly... and loved."

He smiled back and said, "Kelly, it's almost seven o'clock. 
We've been asleep since yesterday afternoon and we have to get
moving.  We're getting the Concorde to New York this morning. 
I'm not sure if we can even still make it."

Reluctantly, he got out of bed.  There was an envelope on the
floor that had been slipped under the door.  After opening it and
looked over the papers, he looked at his watch again.  "We're
supposed to meet the colonel for breakfast at eight o'clock.  It
says there's stuff for you to wear on the door."

He opened the door, found clothing on the knob, and hung it in
the closet.  Entering the bathroom, he was pleased that it was as
modern as the bedroom was ancient.  Even though he had taken a
shower the day before he hadn't noticed it.  Then he showered and
shaved.

As he finished his toilet, Kelly opened the door and came in. 
She stuck out her tongue and said, "I think I hate you.  Why
couldn't we just stay in bed?"

Then she winked and pushed him out the door.  Mike found his
uniform waiting for him in the closet.  As he finished dressing,
Kelly emerged from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her
body and another one wrapped around her hair.  "Mike, do me a
favor?  Would you mind taking a look at my back?  Before I get
dressed I want to know if I should bandage the cuts."

Mike was chagrined, having completely forgotten the whipping at
the KGB headquarters.  Kelly had been moving so naturally ever
since he had completely forgotten about it.  He said, "I'm sorry,
honey.  I'm so fascinated with your boobs, it never occurred to
me to look at your back."

She smiled and turned her back to him.  She dropped the towel and
he saw three cuts crisscrossing her back.  He carefully ran his
finger tips along the one across her shoulders.  "Does it hurt
much?" he asked.  "They're not bleeding.  There are welts but it
doesn't look too bad.  There's no blood."

He then took advantage of his proximity and extended his hands
around her body and put them over her breasts.  She leaned back
against him, closed her eyes, and made soft sounds deep in her
throat.

"Does that answer your question?  It doesn't tickle, but it's
been far worse.  I guess I can safely dress."  She turned in his
arms and gave him a soft kiss on the lips.

Then she went to the closet and found a uniform skirt and a shirt
without any insignia.  There were also panties and a bra.  She
went back into the room with the bra hanging from her hand.  "Do
I have to wear this?" she asked, making a face.

He grinned and replied, "Into every life a little rain must fall.
 I'm afraid so, darling.  Without one, you're a menace to the
maintenance of good order and discipline in this man's Army."

She stuck out her tongue started to put on the bra.  When she
went to hook it in back, she let out a small cry.  She took it
off and looked at Mike, "Honey, I really can't wear it.  It
squeezes right across a welt."

He kissed her softly and said, "Then I guess we'll have to
preserve good order and discipline some other way."

She smiled gratefully, dried her hair, and finished dressing
without the bra.

They went down to the ground floor of the mansion and were
directed to the dining hall.  Colonel Hawkins was sitting at the
head of the table sipping a glass of orange juice waiting for
them.  "Good morning!" he said.  "I hope you two slept well."

He looked at Kelly thoughtfully and said, "Miss Jackson, you are
an enigma.  You are certainly the most beautiful young woman it
has ever been my fortune to meet.  At the same time I have it on
very good authority that you are deadlier than a coral snake. 
They're very pretty, too, by the way.  Won't you have some
breakfast?  I took the liberty of ordering orange juice for you,
but you'll have to select the rest of your breakfast from the
menu."

A steward was waiting and Kelly ordered steak, eggs, hash browns,
toast, and a lot of coffee.  Mike's eyes widened as he heard the
order.  Then he ordered the same thing.  "Where do you intend to
put that breakfast, young lady?" he asked.

Kelly patted her flat stomach and grinned.  "Right here," she
replied.  "I haven't had a steak in longer than I can remember. 
And you're being sexist.  Why can't I have a big breakfast?"

Mike shook his head and smiled.  Turning to the colonel, he said,
"What do you do with a girl like this, sir?"

Hawkins maintained a perfectly straight face.  He was again
wearing a British tweed sport jacket, gray flannel slacks, a rep
tie, and a shirt with a button-down collar.  He replied, "It's
very simple, Major.  You sign her up.  Miss Jackson, Major
Callahan tells me you are willing to join our merry band on two
conditions: The first is you visit your parents.  The second is
you serve with Major Callahan.  Is that correct?"

Kelly was surprised and showed it.  "Yes, sir.  That is correct,"
she replied.

Hawkins smiled warmly and said, "That's fine!"  Then he frowned.
"Captain Jackson, you are not in complete uniform."

He pushed a button on the table and a female officer came in. 
She saluted and asked Kelly to accompany her.  Kelly excused
herself and left the table and the room.  A few minutes later as
the food order was being brought in, she returned.  The woman had
attached rank insignia to the shirt and gave her a uniform jacket
that fitted her perfectly with silver captain's bars on the
shoulders.  She was amazed to find a female officer's hat which
also fit.  Then she sat down at her place at the table.

Nothing was said for a few minutes as they all began to eat. 
Mike was surprised to find he was starving.  Then he remembered
he had only eaten two meals in two days.

When they leaned back after the second cup of coffee, Kelly
looked at Hawkins and said, "Colonel, would you kindly tell me
what's going on here?  How did I get a captain's uniform?  In the
infantry?"

Hawkins looked at her as if she were a dear, but slightly feeble
minded relative.  "We're in the army, Captain.  If you wish to
serve with Major Callahan, you should be, too.  Furthermore, it's
bad for our image if word gets around that teenybopper civilians
are blowing bridges and tearing up enemy armored divisions.  But
if a Special Forces captain does it, it's fine.  So you are now
in Special Forces.  You might not have known it, Captain, but
you've been in the Army since the first of last month.  Do you
accept your commission?"

Kelly was shocked and showed it.  "Colonel, are you serious?  I
haven't finished high school, for heaven's sake.  I can't be an
officer, let alone a captain."

Hawkins looked at Mike and said, "Callahan, you forgot to mention
that your deadly friend is also insubordinate."  He turned to
Kelly and said, "If you accept, it's Captain Kelly Jackson.  Now,
do you accept the commission?"

"Of course I accept, but..."

"Please stand," the colonel ordered.

Kelly stood up.  Hawkins told her to raise her right hand and
began, "Please repeat after me.  I, Kelly Jackson, do solemnly
swear..."  He completed the oath with Kelly repeating the words.
Hawkins grinned and held out his hand, "Congratulations, Captain
Jackson.  Welcome to the Army.  Now move your ass or you and
Callahan will miss your damned plane!"

A helicopter flew them to Heathrow, which was still in civilian
operation.  They boarded the Concorde to New York and were soon
in the air.  Within a few minutes they had cleared the coast of
England and the pilot cut in the afterburners -- boost as the
British call it -- and the plane accelerated toward Mach 2.  The
Concorde followed the sun and landed at New York's Kennedy
International Airport at ten-thirty.  Kelly slept almost all the
way over.

Arriving in New York, they rapidly cleared customs and went out
to the taxi stand.  Mike carried an overseas bag while Kelly had
only her purse.  "What now, honey?" Mike asked.

"Mike, will you come with me to my parents' apartment?  I'm
nervous."  She looked at him wistfully.

"I don't have anything else to do," he said.  He tipped the
skycap who had carried his bag to a waiting cab.

They went west on the Long Island Expressway, through the Midtown
Tunnel and up Park Avenue.  Kelly's apartment was in the 60's.  A
doorman opened the door as the cab pulled up.  He saluted the
uniforms and then did a double-take.  "Miss Jackson?  Is ityou?"

Kelly gave him a big smile and said, "Harry, it sure is!  And I'm
awfully glad to be home."  She then gave him a big kiss on the
cheek.  The doorman reddened, and took the bag inside.  She asked
if her mother was home and was told she was.  "Harry, could you
let me surprise her?  Please?"

He smiled and said, "Of course, Miss Jackson.  May I say you look
wonderful?  It's great to see you back, but I didn't know you
were in the army."

"It's a recent development, Harry," she said with a smile.

Kelly and Mike were admitted and went up in the elevator.  Kelly
pushed the bell button.

A few moments later the door was opened by a very attractive
woman.  She looked at Kelly with a polite smile on her face and
then did a double take.  "Kelly?"  Suddenly Barbara Jackson's
face lighted up and she screamed, "Kelly!"  She suddenly broke
into tears as she took Kelly into her arms.  "Darling!  Welcome
home.  Oh God, you're safe!  For Heaven's sake, come in!"

Kelly entered the apartment with her arm around her mother's
waist.  It was only when the door was closed that Barbara
realized Mike was there.  She wiped her eyes, looked at Kelly and
then at Mike again.

"Mother, I would like you to meet my savior and my lover, Mike
Callahan.  Mike is a major in Army Special Forces.  He got me out
of the school."  Kelly was holding Mike's hand as she spoke.

"Did I hear you say lover?  Kelly, you're not even nineteen years
old!  What is this nonsense?"

Kelly smiled at her mother and said, "Mom, I have a story to tell
you.  If it's all right, I would rather just tell you.  I think
you know what to tell Daddy and how.  Incidentally, can I cal
him?"

"Good heavens!" Mrs. Jackson exclaimed.  "I completely forgot! 
I'll call him right now."

She picked up the phone and called Jackson's private line.  He
answered the phone immediately.  "Darling," Barbara said, the
excitement obvious in her voice, "Kelly's home!  I don't know yet
how she got here, but she just walked in the door.  Can you come
right home?"

She listened for a moment and then hung up.  "He's on his way. 
He was so excited, he didn't even say goodbye."

They went into the study and Barbara said, "I'm sorry!  Are you
hungry?  Thirsty?  How did you get here, anyway?"

"Mom, we came in on the Concorde this morning.  I'm not hungry,
but I would love a beer and I think Mike would, too."  Barbara
glared at her daughter but got two beers.

Kelly then quickly told how the school was overrun by the
Russians and the girls held as slaves and concubines.  She told
her mother how she had been the commandant's mistress for the
last months.  She concluded by saying, "So, Mom, when I say that
Mike is my lover, I can't tell you what it means to me.  It's
certainly not that he has taken my virginity but I wish he had. 
What he did was pick me up out of the garbage can and persuade me
that I wasn't so bad after all.  Do you think you can communicate
that idea to Dad?"

Barbara's face was white after listening to her daughter's
recital.  She took Kelly's hands in hers and looked in her eyes.
"Darling, thank God you're safe.  Mike, thank you for saving our
daughter's life.  I don't know what else to say."

Mike smiled at Barbara and shook his head.  "Mrs. Jackson, Kelly
wasn't completely honest.  I didn't save her life; she saved
mine."  He had started telling her about Kelly knifing the guard
when the door opened and a very distinguished looking man came
rushing in.

Robert Jackson took his daughter in his arms and hugged her. 
Tears were flowing down his cheeks.  "Darling, you look
wonderful.  But what are you wearing?  Why, in heaven's name, are
you wearing a captain's uniform?  I can see why you needed
clothing and uniforms are easier to come by, but why the
insignia?"

Kelly gave her father a warm kiss, and replied, "Because I am a
captain, Dad.  I'm in the army -- Special Forces."  Barbara's jaw
dropped and Bob Jackson looked like he was ready to faint.

Kelly said, "Dad, I would like you to meet my lover, the man who
rescued me from the Russians, Mike Callahan."

Jackson's jaw dropped again.  He sat down quickly in a chair and
Kelly filled him in on her rescue.  She said, "Dad, I told Mom
about what happened to me.  I was held as a slave.  But I would
rather she tell you about it, though."

The phone rang and Barbara went to answer it.  After answering,
she looked up with an expression of bewilderment on her face and
said, "It's for you, Mike.  They say it's the White House for
Major Michael Callahan."

Mike took the phone and identified himself.  A moment later he
was speaking to the President's appointments secretary.  "Major
Callahan, I understand you're with Captain Jackson?"  Mike said
he was.  The voice continued, "The President would like to see
you both at the White House at ten o'clock tomorrow morning. 
Could you make it?  Both of you?  Oh, excuse me.  The invitation
also includes Captain Jackson's parents.  Perhaps it's fortunate
we found you at the Jackson apartment."

Mike looked bewildered, too, as he turned to the others.  "The
President wants to see Kelly and me at ten o'clock tomorrow
morning.  Mr. and Mrs. Jackson, you're invited, too.  Can you
make it?"

Bob and Barbara looked at each other and just nodded, but both
were utterly baffled.  Mike said that they would all be present
and hung up.

The next day they were met at Washington National Airport by a
White House limousine and taken to the East Entrance.  The four
were ushered in and to their surprise taken immediately into the
Oval Office where they were greeted by the President.

Kelly was wearing her uniform which was too warm for the
Washington heat.  She realized that an appropriate uniform for
London in April was too hot for Washington.

The President came up to her and held out his hand.  "You must be
Kelly Jackson.  I'm very pleased to meet you."  An aide was
standing in the background and stepped forward.  "Kelly, I have
here a Purple Heart.  It is for wounds suffered as a result of
enemy action.  In your case the wounds are a little odd, but they
count.

"In addition, I have a more important award.  I'm sorry that it's
being made in private, but for a number of reasons we don't want
to give wide publicity to exactly what you accomplished. 
However, in private, I can tell you that you destroyed, by
yourself, possibly the most important bridge in Germany.  As a
by-product, you devastated a first-line Russian armored division.
 It may have been the last full-strength first-line armored
division they have.  Intelligence estimates the division lost
nearly half of its vehicles and guns as a direct result of your
action.  Your contribution to the defense of Germany is
incalculable, and it may turn out to be decisive."

The President paused and smiled, then continued, "I understand
that you used your fluency in Russian to talk your way across the
bridge at least three times.  Your placement of the explosive
charges was precise.  It couldn't have been done better by the
bridge designers.  And you... eliminated... seven guards with a
combat knife.  I'm told you're a very deadly young lady.  We have
your score as nine with a knife, beginning with the commandant in
Langenhagen, four with a 9mm pistol and eight with a silenced
sniper rifle.

"At any rate, it is my great pleasure to award you the Medal of
Honor for your work at the Weser bridge.  While you're here, I am
also awarding you a Silver Star for your action against the
patrol."  He smiled again, and said, "Kelly, officially you
joined the Army March 1.  Unofficially, we know you were sworn in
under... somewhat unorthodox circumstances... yesterday."

The President's smile turned into a grin and he turned to address
her parents as well.  "Mr. and Mrs. Jackson, I hope you'll keep
our little secret.  We will be paying Kelly retroactive to March
1, a couple of dollars more than technically we should.  I will
say, though, that if we had about ten more Kellys, we could cut
billions from the defense budget.  We wouldn't need much else."

He turned to Kelly and hung the Medal of Honor around her neck. 
She saluted smartly and Mike was impressed.  She was at strict
attention and her salute would have looked good from a West
Pointer.

The President stood up straight and shook her hand.  Then he took
her in his arms and kissed her on the cheek.  "Kelly, have a good
leave."

He then turned to Mike and said, "Major Callahan, lest you go
away empty-handed, I have a Purple Heart for you as well as a
Distinguished Service Cross for an earlier exploit.  How is
Kelly's surgery making it, by the way?"

Mike had saluted when he received his awards.  Now he smiled
broadly and said, "It's great, Mr. President.  There's no end to
this girl's talents.  By the way, I gather you're aware that all
the enemy she shot were killed with head shots.  Did they tell
you why?"  The President shook his head but looked very
interested.  "Sir, it's because she flunked biology twice.  She
claims to be only vaguely aware of the location of the heart, and
a bullet in the brain is as effective.  And she does know where
the brain is!"

The President looked at Kelly who was blushing.  "Is that true,
Kelly?" he asked.

"Yes, sir.  I'm afraid it is.  I did flunk biology twice.  I
couldn't dissect a dead frog."

The President was obviously very amused.  "You don't sound like
the squeamish type, Kelly.  What happened?"

"As I told Mike -- Major Callahan -- I guess I got over it by
watching enough of my friends' blood and my own dripping on the
floor.  The Russians have some... effective methods of
education."

The President suddenly looked concerned.  "How are you feeling
now, Kelly?  I was somewhat cavalier when I awarded you the
Purple Heart.  But you suffered real wounds.  Are you all right
now?"	

"Yes, Mr. President.  I'm fine.  But you might ask Mike.  He
knows me better than I know myself."

The President looked at the two of them carefully and then at the
Jacksons.  "I would appreciate it very much if you would invite
me to your wedding.  The very best of luck to you both.  Mr. and
Mrs. Jackson, I am very pleased you could come down.  I hope you
realize that your daughter's medal -- the Medal of Honor -- is
the highest award for valor our nation can bestow.  The large
majority are awarded posthumously:  The recipient died in the
action that resulted in the award."

He turned serious and added, "I hope this hasn't been too much of
a shock to you both.  I realize Kelly hasn't been home for even
twenty-four hours yet.  But please know we cannot place too high
a value on what she has accomplished."

They were ushered out to the waiting limousine and in two hours
they were back in New York and on the way to the apartment. 
Kelly was in a daze.  "Mike, that was all real, wasn't it?  I
wasn't just dreaming it?"

He smiled at her and said, "If it was a dream, I shared it with
you.  By the way, I realized just now that the blue of the Medal
of Honor ribbon is very close to the blue of your eyes."

Kelly blushed.  "Good heavens!  What must those people think of
me?  I forgot I still had it on."

"Honey, the President wasn't kidding.  It doesn't come in a
cereal box.  It is the highest honor our country can bestow.  You
probably missed it because you're new to this, but do you
remember saluting a general at National Airport on the wayback?"

"Yes, I guess so.  Why?"

"Because, honey, he saluted first.  He outranks you by a bunch of
grades, but it is a tradition in the military.  A Medal of Honor
winner returns salutes.  He doesn't initiate them.  Incidentally,
I'm sure you are the first female to win one in the twentieth
century, if not in history, so I use the term, he, advisedly. 
It's a way of constantly reinforcing the fact that no matter what
kind of equipment we have, it comes down to people.  What you did
has been officially recognized as extraordinary heroism above and
beyond the call of duty -- and that assumes you had taken an
oath, which you hadn't."

Kelly changed the subject.  She looked at Bob Jackson and said,
"Dad, did Mom have a chance to tell you about me?  About the last
year?"

Jackson looked grave and nodded.  "Yes, she did, honey.  How are
you now?"

"I'm fine, Dad, all thanks to Mike.  Dad, it's hard to explain. 
In some little ways I helped him out."

Mike rolled his eyes and murmured, "Little ways, indeed!  A Medal
of Honor's worth."

Kelly continued, "But he personally helped me in a more important
way.  Dad, I was contemplating suicide.  I wanted revenge for
what the Russians had done to me.  Maybe that's why I acted the
way I did.  I didn't really care if I lived or died as long as a
lot of Russians were killed.  But, Dad, I had no intention of
going on living after that.  My life was destroyed and my body
was a wreck.  There was nothing to live for.  Then Mike talked to
me.  And he made love to me, Dad.  As used as I've been, no one
had ever done that.  The Russians raped me repeatedly.  Even with
my legs spread, it was rape.  I had no choice.

"Dad, it made all the difference.  I'm in the army to serve with
him -- to keep an eye on him.  I don't care about anything else.
What I'm doing, Dad, is asking if we can go back to normal?  With
Mike sleeping with me?  That's the only thing that feels normal
now.  And I hurt when he's not there.  I didn't say anything last
night, but is it all right with you?"

Bob Jackson had been listening to his daughter and adding up
everything he had learned in the last twenty-four hours.  "It
doesn't seem like there's much choice, is there?  You really love
him, don't you, honey?  Does he love you?"  Although he asked
Kelly the question, it was really directed to Mike.

Mike answered, "More than life itself, Mr. Jackson.  I can't tell
you what Kelly means to me.  And that's beyond the fact that
she's saved my life three times already.  Would you like us to
get married quickly?  We could do it in just a couple of days.  I
think it might make you and Mrs. Jackson feel better."

Barbara Jackson slowly shook her head and smiled.  "Mike, our
daughter has been cheated out of a great deal.  I don't want her
to be cheated out of a beautiful wedding.  After all, the
President himself asked for an invitation.  I know how she
feels."  To her husband she added, "She needs to be close to him.
 I don't see a problem, except your bed is sort of small,Kelly."

Kelly grinned and said, "It is, isn't it?  On the other hand it's
bigger than the single sleeping bags we've been using.  I think
we can manage, don't you, Mike?"

For an answer he took her in his arms and kissed her.  Again,
there was a sweetness in the kiss that at the same time was
charged with electricity.  "We'll manage," he said finally.

Barbara Jackson looked at Kelly and said, "May I bring up a new
and probably extraneous subject?  Kelly, you've been invited to
'come out' at the Spring Cotillion next month.  I think it's the
third of May.  I'm leaving it strictly up to you.  On the one
hand there is the absurdity of making an appearance in the world
after what's happened to you.  On the other hand, it could be
fun:  There are some nice dinners and small dances.  It's a part
of growing up.  You've lost so much, darling, but this is
something you can still do."

She looked at Mike and said, "How about you, Mike?  Will you be
able to dance by May?"

Mike smiled at her and said, "The fact of the matter is I could
probably dance this weekend.  This cane is primarily for sympathy
and to get my convalescent leave.  Now that I've collected my
Purple Heart, the cane has finished its job.  I'm all for it!  I
can even get out my full-dress whites."

Kelly smiled broadly, "Mother, let's do it!"Chapter 5

When Kelly entered the bedroom that night she was back-lighted
from the bathroom.  There was only a small light on her night
table.  Mike was in bed lying on his back looking at her as she
stopped and posed for him.  Although he couldn't see her face, he
knew she was waiting for his reaction.  "You're beautiful,
darling," he said softly.

She padded over to the bed and stood beside it.  Now her body was
lighted by the soft light of the bed lamp.  He ran his fingers
over her body and saw her eyes close as her body shivered under
his touch.  Suddenly, for no apparent reason, Kelly started to
giggle.  "What's so funny?" he asked.

"Honey, I hate to break the mood, but this is so funny.  Have you
really looked around this room?  It's a classic teenage girl's
room complete with the flowery bed spread and stuffed animals. 
It's just so funny!  And Mike, you don't fit.  I'm sorry.  I
guess I'll have to kick you out.  You clash with the room. 
You're too big, too dark and much too masculine."

Mike moved his hand to her buttock and gently squeezed.  "That
will... do... no..."  With a grin, she jumped into the bed and
into his arms.  "Darling, I guess you'll just have to clash.  I
can't live without you!"

He ran his fingers slowly over her body and again could feel it
shiver.  His finger ran down to her slit and he could feel the
moisture.  He contacted her bare clit and she jumped.  Then he
asked her if she had told her mother about being circumcised and
she said she hadn't.  Easing her body toward the center of the
bed, she spread her legs.  He easily entered her and heard her
moan as her loins took on an independent life.  Their lovemaking
that night was very slow and tender.

Finally after a number of small climaxes, she came violently
under him.  Afterward, he lay with his arm around her holding her
breast.  She had formed her body to his and again started to
giggle softly.

"What's so funny now?" he whispered.

"Darling, I was just thinking how fast things change.  The last
time I slept in this bed I remember going to sleep, thinking
about a date I had just had.  I was wondering if I should let him
kiss me goodnight.  Now, I have a cunt that's swimming in love
juices, I've cum dozens of times..."

She turned her head towards his and smiled, "Will my date give me
a goodnight kiss?"  He leaned over and kissed her softly.  She
snuggled even closer and held his hand tightly over her breast. 
The last thing he heard was a very soft, "Good night, my darling.
 Thank you."

The next morning Kelly found her mother in the kitchen.  It was
the cook's day off.  Barbara Jackson looked up at Kelly who was
wearing a flannel bathrobe.  She took her in her arms and kissed
her.  "Honey, you look wonderful.  It was good last night, wasn't
it?  I heard you screaming -- and it wasn't in pain."

Kelly grinned, "I guess the word is ecstasy.  God, it was good. 
But it's always good with Mike.  Mother, when I'm gone, could you
redecorate my room?"  She told her about thinking of a goodnight
kiss.

Her mother grinned and said, "By the way, your noises reminded
your father who has been keeping him warm at night.  He was...
very affectionate.  But we're not nearly as noisy as you two.  Of
course, we've been at it longer."

Barbara looked at her daughter and said, "I've been going through
your social invitations.  I called the sponsors this morning and
you and Mike are registered for the Cotillion.  Your father and I
would like to have a party for you, as well.  Would you like us
to?"

She looked at her daughter fondly, "Honey, I haven't had a chance
to talk to you, but yesterday was the most remarkable day of my
life.  My little girl, not even out of high school, receives the
Medal of Honor.  Honey, you've experienced more in the last year
than your friends will in their entire lives.  I'm just concerned
that you may laugh.  You're so far advanced it could seem like
going back to kindergarten.  Did you think about that?"

Kelly was looking at her mother carefully as Mike came into the
kitchen wearing a pair of slacks and a sport shirt.  He kissed
Kelly and she put her arm around his waist.  She told him what
her mother had just said.  "What do you think, honey?  Will it be
awful?"

Mike smiled and said, "I have a suggestion:  I gather there are a
series of parties in advance of the cotillion.  Could we go to
one and see how it goes?  Mrs. Jackson, how soon would you have
to decide on giving one of your own?"

Barbara looked at Kelly and said, "I like Mike, honey.  He has a
head on his shoulders.  It makes all kinds of sense.  As a matter
of fact, there's a party tonight at the Plaza that I can get you
an invitation to.  Want to try?"

Mike looked at Kelly and said, "Honey, there's one thing I know
for sure.  You haven't been to a party in over a year.  Let's do
it."

Kelly smiled ruefully, "Mike, that isn't quite true.  I was the
entertainment at a number of parties.  The less said about what I
was forced to do, the better.  Suffice it to say, I'm an
experienced stage stripper.  That's about all I care to say about
it.  Someday I'll give you a personal demonstration.  But as a
guest, you're right."

She smiled warmly at Mike and added, "Darling, win, lose or draw,
thank you for bringing me back to the human race.  And thank you
for last night.  It almost makes what went before worthwhile."

They sat down to a bountiful breakfast Barbara had prepared. 
Mike said, "Mrs. Jackson, you're a superior cook.  Incidentally,
your daughter is one of the best camp cooks I've ever met." 
Kelly smiled at him warmly and thanked him.

Then she turned to her mother and said, "Mom, I'm going to say
something that sounds crazy, even to me.  I guess I'm sort of
glad this horror story happened.  It's not just that I met Mike
-- and I adore him.  It's...  Things mean more, now.  You can't
understand how it felt last night to be in a warm bed with Mike
just holding me.  To be able to take a shower.  To just talk.

"I'm going to be interested to see what happens, but I think I've
really changed.  I don't think I'm a rich bitch anymore.  But
God, I sure used to be!  Mike, I don't think you would have liked
me at all.  As a matter of fact, that was probably my major
problem.  I don't think I liked me very much, either."

Both Barbara and Mike smiled at Kelly.  Mike said, "Kelly, I
can't talk about the past, but I can talk about the present: 
You're the best there is.  By the way, is this cotillion we're
going to attend full dress?  I was assuming it is, but I never
asked."

Barbara nodded and frowned, "I hope that's not a problem for you,
Mike?"

He smiled at her and said, "Do you mind if I call you Mom?  I
know it is rushing the season, but my parents are dead, and I
don't want to call you Barbara, and Mrs. Jackson sounds so
formal..."

"Why, Mike, I would be honored!  Please do.  But you didn't
answer my question about full dress?"

"Mom, it's no problem.  In fact, I would appreciate the
opportunity.  I'm from West Point.  They like us career types to
have a full assortment of regalia.  I was smiling to myself
because I'm a major now and I have had a summer dress uniform
since I was commissioned as a second lieutenant.  I dutifully
spend a fortune changing the insignia when I'm promoted, but I
don't think I've ever worn the damned thing."

He grinned at Kelly, "It's my great opportunity at last.  Thank
you, dear."

Then his face took on a cat-that-swallowed-the-canary look and he
added, "However, there is an element of revenge.  Female officers
-- Mom, a captain, although a low-life, is an officer -- may wear
evening wear instead of a full-dress uniform.  However, they must
wear senior medals."  He turned to Barbara and said, "And as the
President said, the Medal of Honor is the most senior award there
is.  I think the future Mrs. Callahan will look beautiful with
the Medal of Honor around her lovely neck.  What do you think,
Mom?"

"I agree, of course, Mike.  I think she will look lovely.  What
about the other two?"

"Mom, in the army, the sequence is Medal of Honor, Distinguished
Service Cross, Silver Star, and Bronze Star.  Your daughter is
the proud -- embarrassed?  -- recipient of two of the top three.
The other two are worn as miniature medals on her breast or just
below.  The Medal of Honor is always worn around the neck.  I
think it will be... distinctive."

Kelly had been watching the exchange with a series of emotions
passing over her face.  Finally she said, "Mike, are you really
serious?  I'm supposed to wear my medal?"

"No, darling," he replied.  "All of them.  It happens that in
your brief military career, you've picked up three senior awards
in less time than a GI spends in basic training.  By the way,
speaking of basic training, we'll be going down to Quantico in
about six weeks.  You go through the full course and I go through
the refresher."  He grinned at her and added, "Kelly, you're
going to wish you'd stayed in Langenhagen where you were safe!"

Kelly just stuck out her tongue at him.

That evening Mike escorted Kelly to the Plaza.  He was wearing a
suit that Bob had arranged for at his tailor.  Kelly and her
mother had gone shopping and came back with a beautiful dress in
blue that matched her eyes.  Because the whip marks from the
previous week still showed -- it seemed years rather than less
than a week -- she made sure it was not backless.

They were standing at the entrance to the private room set aside
for the party.  Kelly stopped a few yards short of the door and
gripped Mike's hand.  "Mike, I'm scared," she said in a quavering
voice.  He stopped and looked at her.  It was obvious that she
was serious.

He took her aside and took her chin in his hand.  "Kelly, you're
the most courageous person I've ever met.  These are friends.  No
one's going to shoot at you.  Now will you give me a kiss?"  He
took her in his arms and kissed her softly.

She clung to him and then smiled.  It was as if the sun had come
out.  The girl's smile was brilliant.  "Thank you, darling, for
not laughing," she said softly.  "I think I'm so nervous because
it's so stupid.  But, Mike, please don't leave me alone?"

He smiled at her warmly, kissed her again, and promised he would
always be close.

They entered the room and were greeted by the hostess and her
parents.  The girl was one who Kelly knew only by sight.  They
had never been close but moved in the same general social
circles.  The girl asked Kelly what she had been doing, and Kelly
responded that she had been in school.  She introduced Mike as
being from West Point.  The girl asked him how many more years
before he finished and he admitted to being a recent graduate.

Kelly became furious when she ordered a drink and the waiter
asked for proof of age.  Mike smothered a laugh as she gave the
waiter a cold stare and said she wanted a Beefeater martini, very
dry, on the rocks.  The waiter relented when Mike showed him his
ID giving his age as twenty-five.

As the waiter moved off, Mike whispered in Kelly's ear, "That's
what I get for robbing the cradle."

Kelly retaliated by stepping on his toe.  She whispered, "The
next time you say something stupid like that, I'll use the heel
of my shoe and break your damned toe!"  He made peace by kissing
her softly, as one of Kelly's old male friends appeared.

"Kelly, do you remember me?  Tom Peters?"

Kelly put out her hand and said, "Of course, Tom!  I would like
you to meet Mike Callahan, my escort for the evening."

When she said 'escort', Mike casually stepped on her toe.  He saw
her wince and then wink at him and whisper, "Touche!"

Tom asked Kelly what she was doing.  While her answer to the
hosts -- she had been in school -- was misleading, they had
decided to be honest about the present.  "I'm in the army, Tom. 
I work with Mike.  He's my boss."

She looked at Mike with love in her eyes that he could see.  She
moved her lips and formed the words, "and lover" without making a
sound.  Mike smiled, winked, and nodded in the slightest way.  He
was holding her hand and squeezed it and she squeezed back.  Mike
decided Kelly was, by a very wide margin, the most beautiful girl
at the party.  From the reaction of the other men -- boys? --
others shared his opinion.

They had a good time.  At one point a boy started talking about
the war in Germany.  He stated that nothing could stop the
Russian tanks.  Apparently, he claimed, it was the sheerest luck
that the Weser bridge collapsed.  He maintained it wasn't Allied
action but was caused by too much weight on the bridge.

He asked Mike what he thought.  "You're at West Point, aren't
you?  What are they saying up there?"

Mike squeezed Kelly's hand and said, "They're not saying anything
up there.  It only happened last week.  But I don't think it just
collapsed.  I think it was assisted."

"You mean, German resistance?" the boy asked.

"Something like that, I guess," Mike replied.

Later that night in bed he held Kelly close and squeezed her
breast.  They had made love several times and both Mike and Kelly
were drained.  She looked up at his face and murmured, "Is it
true I'm only a sex object in your eyes?  The only reason a West
Pointer would date a teenager is for sex.  That's what one of the
girls in the powder room said.  She asked if I let you get to
first base.

"I looked surprised and asked what first base was.  She said it
was allowing a boy to touch your boobs.  I was shocked and told
her so.  I asked why a boy would want to touch my boobs.  Mike,"
she whispered, "Why do you touch my boobs?"

"I don't touch them, I squeeze them," he replied softly.

"Oh," she murmured, "I guess that's all right then -- as long as
you don't just touch them."  She tried to form her nude body even
closer to his.  "Do you think you'll ever get to second base?"
she whispered as she drifted off to sleep.

*  *  *

During the next several weeks they went to a round of parties
leading up to the cotillion.  No one had asked Kelly what she did
in the army.  She and Mike had an inside joke because it was
obvious they thought she was a clerk-typist in some office, while
Mike was thought to be stationed at West Point.

Finally, it was the evening of the cotillion.  Barbara had bought
a beautiful white ball gown for Kelly to wear which was strapless
and cut low in the back.  She had been skeptical and had put it
on for her parents and Mike.  They had inspected her back
carefully and none of the marks of her beatings were apparent
although lines scored her back.  Rather, she had picked up a
glorious tan.  With her blue eyes and golden hair, she was
exquisite.

Mike had obtained miniature medals for himself and Kelly.  The
night of the dance he was talking to Bob Jackson while waiting
for her in the library.  Bob had been very pleased when Mike had
asked if he could call him Dad a few weeks earlier.Bob looked at
Mike thoughtfully.  "Mike, aren't you a little young to be a
major?" he asked.

Mike smiled and said, "It's a fact of life in wartime.  If you
live, you get promoted.  As a matter of fact, I've just been
selected for lieutenant colonel.  Kelly, believe it or not, has
already been selected for major.  It's going to be a panic at
Quantico.  I'm sure they've never seen a nineteen-year-old
major!"  The family had celebrated Kelly's nineteenth birthday
just a few days earlier.

The men both rose as Kelly came into the room followed by her
mother.  She was a vision.  Mike thought she glowed and said so.
Kelly beamed.  She had the two medals pinned to her dress below
her left breast.  She asked Mike, "You're not putting me on, are
you?  About having to wear the medals?  You _do_ know I'll kill
you if you are?"

Mike smiled and kissed her in front of her parents.  She molded
her body to his and returned the kiss.  He eased away and said,
"Darling, I'm possibly the only person alive who's seen you in
action.  I _know_ you're deadly.  Honey, you really have to wear
it.  May I put it on for you?"

She smiled and turned around.  He fastened the clasp of the medal
around her neck.  The medal hung at her throat as she looked at
herself in the mirror.  Mike was standing behind her and he
executed a precise Academy salute.  "The Major is gorgeous this
evening!  Now shall we go?"

Mike was wearing his full-dress whites with his DSC.  The
Cotillion was being held in the Grand Ballroom of the
Waldorf-Astoria, so the Jackson limousine left them off at the
ballroom entrance.  Kelly was wearing a light wrap which she left
at the check room.  Then she looked up at Mike and said, "Are you
sure I look all right?"

"Kelly, you're the most beautiful girl here.  Bet on it!  Are you
ready, Mademoiselle?"

Mike extended his arm and she took it as they walked toward the
entrance.  An elderly gentleman wearing a small Bronze Star on
his coat was standing by the invitation table.  He raised his
eyebrows in amazement as he saw Kelly's Medal of Honor.  He
whispered to the women at the table who looked up from their
lists.

Mike smiled at the women and said, "Kelly Jackson and escort,
Major Michael Callahan."

The women were nonplused.  One said, "Major, Mr. Foster says it's
totally inappropriate for someone to wear another's medals,
particularly the Medal of Honor.  It is for acts of extraordinary
bravery and courage in action against the enemy, isn't it?"

Mike smiled at the woman and said, "You're absolutely right,
ma'am.  You may have missed it, but Miss Jackson is also wearing
the Silver Star and the Purple Heart.  The Purple Heart is
awarded to those wounded in enemy action."

Mike's face brightened.  "Why don't you call the White House? 
I'll be happy to give you the number and pay for the call.  The
President presented the Medal of Honor to Kelly about four weeks
ago.  I'm sure they will be happy to confirm that it's hers."

Foster had been listening to the exchange and came up to them. 
Although he appeared to be in his seventies, he stood at
attention and saluted Kelly.  "Miss Jackson, please accept my
sincere apologies.  I notice Major Callahan is wearing the DSC
and a Purple Heart also.  It's quite clear to me that you are a
remarkably brave young woman.  I'm sure you are the only woman to
win the Medal of Honor in modern times.  Can you tell me about
it?"

Kelly blushed but smiled.  "I'm afraid the details are
classified, Mr. Foster.  But thank you so much.  Few people know
what it is."

Foster made a very courtly bow.  "It's my pleasure to welcome
you, Miss Jackson.  Major Callahan, can you tell us anything?"

Mike smiled and said, "It was for gallantry in action in Germany
very recently.  Miss Jackson may have personally turned the tide
for us.  I can only say that she deserves it."

When they found their assigned table, no one else was there. 
Assuming the other couples were out on the dance floor, Mike
looked at Kelly and said, "Miss Jackson, may I have the pleasure
of this dance?"  Mike's leg was now fully recovered and he was
moving easily again.

Smiling, Kelly took his arm and they went out to the dance floor.
 Taking her in his arms Mike moved off.  Although they had
attended a number of parties in the previous three weeks, there
had been no opportunity to dance.  Now Mike found that Kelly was
like a feather in his arms.  They moved around the floor and Mike
felt like he was in seventh heaven.  The music was good and Kelly
was perfect.  Looking down at her, he found himself looking into
her eyes.  Lowering his mouth he kissed her softly while they
continued to move on the floor.

"Am I doing all right, Mike?" Kelly asked.  He looked down at her
and smiled.

"Kelly, you aren't doing all right.  You're an angel.  You look
like one, you move like one, and you feel like one in my arms. 
Darling, I love you.  Will you marry me?"

Kelly had been looking at his face.  When she heard the proposal,
her expression didn't change.  All she said was, "Of course. 
When?  Darling, you know I love you more than life itself.  You
put me back together after being in hell.  Darling, I have only
one question.  Are you sure?  I'm used, spoiled, ruined.  I'll be
your mistress forever and ever, Mike.  You don't have to marry
me."

"Miss Jackson, I have it from no less than the President that he
hopes you will be the mother of my children.  By the way, do you
want children?"

Kelly looked at him and her eyes glowed.  "Mike, it would make me
the happiest woman in the world to feel my belly swell with your
child growing inside me.  But honey, my breasts will swell, my
ankles will bulge, and I'll be a mess."  She grinned at him and
continued, "A very happy mess, but a mess.  Are you sure?"

Mike said, very matter-of-factly, "I'm sure!"

Just then there was a fanfare from the band.  The dancers stopped
and looked at the stage.  A man serving as master of ceremonies
addressed the gathering.  "It is now my pleasure to present the
debutantes this evening.  Would all of the young ladies please
come up the steps on my right and prepare to be introduced."

Kelly squeezed Mike's hand and went toward the steps along with
some other girls.  They lined up in the previously established
sequence by height and were introduced one by one.  Because of
her height Kelly was one of the last in line.

Finally, the MC said, "Ladies and Gentlemen, it gives me great
pleasure to present Army Captain Kelly Jackson.  Some of you may
have noticed Kelly is wearing a medal around her neck.  It is the
Medal of Honor, the highest award for bravery in combat our
country can award.  I have been informed that members of the
committee called the White House earlier this evening.  They were
informed by a White House spokesman that Captain Kelly Jackson
was presented the Medal of Honor, along with the Silver Star and
the Purple Heart by the President four weeks ago.  The medals
were awarded for action against the enemy in Germany.  The
details are classified.  I should add that the Purple Heart is
awarded to those wounded in action.

"Would you please give a big hand to our next deb, Captain Kelly
Jackson!"

Kelly walked gracefully across the stage.  The crowd applauded
vigorously.  A few minutes later all of the debs were lined up
across the stage.  A woman handed the master of ceremonies a
folded slip of paper.  He glanced at it and announced, "Ladies
and Gentlemen, it gives me great pleasure to introduce to you the
girl unanimously voted New York's Debutante of the Year, Captain
Kelly Jackson!"

Kelly walked over to the master of ceremonies who greeted her and
presented her with a bouquet of long stemmed roses.  Kelly stood
before the microphone and said, "Thank you all for this honor. 
I'm unable to tell you very much about the last year.  Let me
say, though, that I'm glad to be alive.  I never dreamed of
receiving this honor.  Thank you so much."  With a bright smile
and a wave, Kelly walked off the stage.

"Mike," she said when she found him, "I just found another use
for your uniform.  In a sea of penguins, you stand out.  I'm
afraid some of the girls may not find their escorts for the rest
of the evening."

Mike escorted Kelly back to their table.  This time the other
people assigned to it were all seated.  They rose and applauded
as Kelly approached.

One of the men at the table extended his hand, "Congratulations,
Kelly.  Can you tell us anything about the medal you're wearing?"
 Kelly smiled and shook her head.

Mike said, "Kelly can't, but I can tell you this much:  By
herself Kelly may have won the war for us.  She certainly
accomplished more using very conventional weapons than anyone I
have ever heard of."

The girls looked at Kelly with expressions of bewilderment and
bafflement.  One girl said, "Kelly, I don't understand.  You're
just out of high school.  How did you get to be in the Army?  And
an officer?"

Kelly smiled and said, "The fact of the matter is I'm not out of
high school.  I haven't graduated.  As far as being an officer is
concerned, there seems to be a need for some special skills I
have.  So here I am."

The girl persisted, turning to Mike.  "Major, you're West Point,
aren't you?  What do you think?"

Mike looked at her and said, "I can only tell you what the
President said to Kelly a few weeks ago.  If we had ten more like
her, we wouldn't need much else.  She has some extraordinary
talents."

The evening passed and finally Mike and Kelly returned to the
apartment where they found Barbara and Bob sitting in the living
room waiting for them.  The young people were astounded to find
her parents in evening wear.  Barbara smiled and said, "You
didn't think I would miss seeing my daughter presented, did you?
Congratulations, darling.  The phone will be ringing off the
hook.  What are your plans now?"

Kelly smiled and said, "Mom, I'm running out of gas.  And in
spite of my weakened condition, Mike tells me we're due at
Quantico, Virginia, tomorrow night.  It's back to work, I'm
afraid.  If it's all the same to you, I think I'll just go to
bed.  I'm beat, and he tells me they're going to be giving me a
hard time."

They went off to bed together.  Again, Mike felt a wonderful
sense of warmth lying next to this beautiful girl.  He gently
squeezed the beautiful breast under his hand and was rewarded
with a small murmur of contentment as Kelly tried to mold her
body even closer to his.Chapter 6

Mike and Kelly arrived at Quantico in uniform.  Their promotions
were official: Mike was now a lieutenant colonel and Kelly was a
major.  When they reported in to the school they were assigned
housing in married officer's quarters and unloaded their gear. 
For Kelly, her gear didn't amount to much.  The next morning they
went to the supply center to draw equipment.  Mike had explained
that rank insignia were not worn by trainees.  Since many of the
instructors were enlisted personnel, it avoided problems with
officer and civilian trainees.  Then he took her in to meet the
school's commanding officer, Colonel Peter Rogers.

Rogers rose when they entered the office and saluted Kelly. 
"Welcome to Quantico, Major Jackson."  He turned to Mike and
said, "You're looking good, Mike.  Very good, in fact.  How's the
leg?"

"It's fine, Pete, thanks.  I've been telling Kelly that she's in
for a rare treat here:  I told her it combines the worst features
of a prison camp and a trip to the dentist to have impacted
wisdom teeth removed."  He smiled and Rogers grinned.  He asked
them to sit down.

"Kelly, I'm going to use you and I hope you won't mind.  For a
number of reasons we do not encourage trainees to get to know
each other's backgrounds.  All sorts of people come through here;
some are civilians.  Among the military personnel, most are
enlisted -- about two-thirds.  As you probably know, no rank
insignia are worn.  We organize training classes as companies
with three platoons.  In this class there are going to be
seventy-four of you.  We will have three platoons of about
twenty-five with a designated platoon leader and an assistant.

"We're here to train the people and test them.  What isn't so
obvious is the extent of the testing.  It's one thing to have the
skills to operate behind enemy lines; it's another thing entirely
to have the temperament for it.  Kelly, I'm putting you in the
first platoon.  The platoon leader is Ken Carson and the
assistant is Mary Harris.  Do you mind?"

Kelly had been listening carefully and replied, "Of course I
don't mind.  I'm here to learn."  She smiled at Rogers and said,
"From our housing, it's obvious that you know about our
arrangement.  My job is to learn enough to keep him alive to get
to the altar when this is over.  Am I correct in assuming our
housing arrangements are nonstandard?"

Rogers smiled and said, "You're right.  They are.  The other
trainees live in the barracks.  But you've raised a good point,
Kelly.  We need some story to explain why you're not there. 
Because of the division of people and the semi-secret nature of
the work, there is intended to be no interaction between the
training units and the other units operating down here.  My
thought is to just say nothing unless you have a good story in
mind."

They left it that way.

The next morning Kelly reported in her fatigues to the training
unit.  Her uniform was completely unadorned except for the name,
JACKSON, stenciled over the right breast.  She found the first
platoon and saluted Ken Carson.  "Kelly Jackson reporting, sir. 
I've been assigned to your platoon."

Carson frowned at her and turned her over to Mary Harris.  Harris
was a brunette, about five feet four with a good figure.  It was
obvious to Kelly that Mary disliked her on sight.  The training
began immediately.  Although Kelly thought she was in good shape,
by the end of the first day she ached in muscles she didn't know
she had.  Although she tried to be cheerful, it was obvious that
Harris had it in for her.  A number of times during the day Kelly
was ordered to do pushups for various infractions.  Kelly was
certain the infractions were imagined.

When she got back to the house in the evening she found Mike
already there.  She stripped off her now-filthy fatigues and
stumbled into the shower.  She came out with a towel around her
head and collapsed face down on the bed.  Mike sat down on the
edge and started to massage her body.  As he worked on her
muscles she could feel her aches and pains slowly ebb.  They had
scarcely spoken a word since she came in.  It was obvious to Mike
what had happened, and Kelly was delighted that Mike knew where
she was hurting without having to ask.

He rolled her over on her back and she looked up at him.  He
lowered his head and kissed her softly.  She gave him a small
smile and said, "Darling, it's all I can do to spread my legs. 
I'm afraid you'll have to do all the work."  The smile broadened
and she added, "I think my cunt is the only part of me that
doesn't hurt.  Do you mind?"

He made love to her gently.  After they had climaxed, she fell
asleep with her head on his shoulder.  When she awakened she
checked her watch and jumped up.  Mike was still sleeping. 
Thirty minutes later he was awakened by the smell of broiling
steak.  He got up and padded into the kitchen.  Kelly had
prepared a beautiful dinner for them in spite of being so tired.
After eating they went back to bed, made love again with Kelly
taking a much more active r"le, and finally went to sleep with
his hand cupping her breast.

*  *  *

Kelly was angry.  Her performance in the exercises put her at the
top of her class, but the better she did the more Harris rode
her.  It was apparent that Mary Harris and Ken Carson didn't know
what to make of her.

This added to the irritation Harris felt and resulted in her
riding Kelly even more.  Mary Harris was puzzled.  She had tried
to find out more about the young girl in her platoon but hit a
stone wall.  She had even tried to sneak a look at Jackson's
service record but found it wasn't in the usual file. 
Nevertheless, she concluded that Jackson was enlisted.  She
didn't know how old she was but estimated she wasn't more than
twenty.

A number of things didn't add up, though.  When they were
introduced to enemy weapons, Jackson handled them with ease and
familiarity.  At the range when they were shown the AK-47,
Jackson picked it up, cocked it, and devastated the targets with
a series of short bursts.  The platoon went to a group of tables
behind the range where AK-47s were lying disassembled.  They had
manuals to read which covered various weapons.  This was a test
to see how much they had learned.  The assignment was to assemble
the weapons and fire them.  Jackson had hers together and firing
while Harris was still working on her breech mechanism.

She seemed to be comfortable around demolition charges.  Harris
couldn't understand why, but the instructor seemed to listen
carefully to this young girl.  The more it happened, the madder
Harris became. _It isn't right,_ she thought. _I'm an officer --
a West Point graduate -- and this high-school dropout is
deliberately trying to make me look bad._  She had been taking
her complaints to Ken Carson who had been a class ahead of her at
the Point.

Finally, she could take it no longer.  She saw Carson at the end
of the day after two weeks of training and said, "Ken, we've got
to get rid of Kelly Jackson.  She's not making it.  She has some
technical skills, but she could never operate successfully behind
enemy lines.  Do you agree?"

Carson had left Kelly to Harris because they were both women.  He
didn't have much direct contact with Jackson but he did know her
scores were good.  He agreed, finally, to go with Harris to see
Colonel Rogers on Monday.

They went into his office early on Monday.  Harris asked for the
immediate dismissal of Jackson.  "Colonel, she has some technical
ability but lacks the temperament and the broad knowledge
required to operate behind enemy lines.  She will be a danger to
herself and to her team."

Pete Rogers lifted his eyebrows slightly.  "You're confident of
this, Lieutenant?  You don't believe she can make it?  I must
tell you, her scores are very good and I get good reports from
the instructors.  You're certain?"

"Yes, sir.  I am sure.  She couldn't possibly operate behind
enemy lines," Harris replied.

Rogers nodded.  "I'll think about it.  I will talk to you both at
the end of the day today.  There is a meeting of the full company
scheduled at that time.  Let's see what happens."

That afternoon the training company assembled in the auditorium.
Mary looked around and saw that Jackson wasn't there.  She smiled
to herself, convinced that the colonel had acted on her
recommentdation.  Kelly Jackson was history.

When the company was seated, Rogers went to the microphone. 
"Ladies and gentlemen, you have now completed two weeks of our
ten-week course.  The results are good... so far.  I have decided
to make a change organizationally, however.  You are organized
into a training company with three platoons, each with a platoon
leader and an assistant.  As many of you noticed, there is no
company commander nor company staff.  I am naming Ken Carson,
platoon leader of the first platoon, as assistant company
commander.  Mary Harris will take over as platoon leader of first
platoon and a new assistant will be appointed.  This leaves us
with the question of who will command the company.  In this
class, we are extremely fortunate.  We have a student who is
qualified to be an instructor in virtually every subject area. 
She will be the company commander."  Rogers turned to the side of
the stage and said, "Major, will you come out and meet your
command?"

Kelly walked briskly across the stage.  Rogers had told her to
wear her service dress uniform and wait offstage.  She shook
hands and took a seat behind him.  Rogers continued, "Many of you
already know Major Jackson.  What you do not know -- although it
is visible for those of you with sharp eyes -- is that she wears
the ribbon of the Medal of Honor, along with a Silver Star and a
Purple Heart.  I don't have to explain to you the meaning of the
Medal of Honor.

"You may have noticed that many of the instructors defer to
Kelly.  In languages, she has been spending some of her very
limited off-duty hours with our language instructors in German
and Russian improving their pronunciation and teaching them the
latest idioms.

"She is as good with small arms as anyone we have ever
encountered.  The Silver Star resulted from wiping out an enemy
patrol.  She fired eight rounds at ranges up to 150 meters. 
There were eight men dead, each with a bullet in his head.  She
is similarly deadly with a 9mm automatic.  That was five rounds,
and four dead.  She is very considerate with the taxpayers'
money.  She doesn't use expensive bullets just to put holes in
the foliage.  The reason for the fifth round was she had just
been beaten and was annoyed at the Russian who had been wielding
the whip.

"There's just one more thing.  There have been comments that
Kelly appears to be very young... much too young for the work we
do.  The fact is she turned nineteen last month.  This command is
now rather unimpressed with age as a qualifying characteristic
for our work.

"Major Jackson, would you please take over your command."

Kelly got up from her chair and saluted the colonel.  She went to
the microphone and said, "We're not nearly finished, but I think
we're off to a good start.  I would like to see this company set
records for proficiency at this command that will last awhile. 
Let's do it!"

She stepped away from the microphone and said in a very strong
voice that reverberated from the corners, "Company... AttenTION."
 The trainees jumped to their feet at attention.  Kelly dismissed
them, after saying she wanted to meet with Carson and Harris
immediately following dismissal.

Kelly ignored the stares of her classmates as they left the room.
 She could see eyes focusing on the blue ribbon with its white
stars worn on her left breast.  When everyone else had left, she
turned and found Carson and Harris standing at attention waiting
for her.  She turned to them and they saluted smartly; Kelly
returned the salute as smartly.  "Let's sit down, shall we?"

Mary Harris was waiting for the ax to fall. _My God,_ she
thought, _here I am telling the Colonel Kelly Jackson isn't fit
for service behind enemy lines... and she's been there.  She is a
major with a Medal of Honor awarded at age eighteen!_  Mary
wondered what Kelly had done to earn it.  She sat down on a chair
maintaining a position of attention.

Then she heard a muttered "Damn!" from Kelly.  She had turned a
chair backwards and was about to straddle it when she remembered
she was wearing her uniform skirt.  She turned it around again
and sat down.  She looked at Mary Harris and said, "Mary, you
don't like me.  Why?"

Mary's face turned bright red.  Her first thought was to say that
she did, but she abandoned it instantly.  Ken Carson was watching
her closely and knew the truth.

"I'm sorry, Major.  I... I guess I'm jealous.  I graduated high
in my class at the Point and am proud of it.  Then I meet a young
girl who can't be long out of high school who regularly puts me
in the shade.  Whatever I do, you do better, faster and easier. 
And, Major, you're beautiful to boot."

Suddenly the girl started to cry.  Her face just crumpled and
tears started to stream from her eyes.  She still sat upright,
though.  "I was unfair, cruel... a gold-plated bitch.  And you
never said anything.  You would occasionally look at me as if I
were imagining things... and I was.  Major, I can't count the
number of times I've given you punishment.  And I can't think of
a single time when you deserved it.  My behavior has been
reprehensible.  I'm resigning my commission and from the school
for the good of the Service."

Kelly had been looking at the girl impassively.  When she
finished, Kelly said, "Harris, drop and give me twenty.  Now!" 
Mary looked up at Kelly in surprise.  Then she grinned and
dropped to the floor.  She did twenty excellent pushups and then
jumped up to attention.

Kelly got up from the chair and held out her hand, "Harris, now
we're even.  You didn't deserve those, either.  Can we try again?
 I happen to believe you're too good to lose.  Besides, the
taxpayers have a large investment in your education."

Mary Harris took Kelly's hand and gripped it firmly.  "Major,
thank you.  I feel like such a fool!  I can't believe how wrong I
could be.  Can you tell us how you got your Medal?"

Kelly smiled and shook her head, "I'm afraid I can't.  I guess I
can say it had to do with using explosives.  By the way, Mary,
you're wrong about one thing.  I'm not out of high school, yet. 
I never graduated.  My education was... interrupted."

Mary's mouth formed a small "O".  "No wonder the demolition
instructor listened so attentively!  You... Kelly, you blew the
Weser River bridge, didn't you?  It's the only thing...  It
appears to have been decisive and all of the news reports have
been uncharacteristically vague.  My God!  I saw a photograph of
the thing.  Broken neatly in half with the broken center in the
river and the land-side ends blasted off their foundations.  They
said we used a new type of bomb, but no bomb could blow a bridge
off the foundations on both sides at once."

Kelly's face remained impassive.  "We've got a lot of work to do
in the next eight weeks.  Let's go home, get some sleep and get
to it."

*  *  *

Colonel Rogers' speech changed the atmosphere dramatically.  He
had called the house that evening and asked Kelly to start
wearing her rank insignia.  He pointed out that the class had
been officially told, and the staff had requested him to ask her
to do it as well.

The next morning Kelly addressed the company.  "Now the real work
starts.  The last couple of weeks we spent getting into shape. 
Now we go to work.  Remember, this class is going to set a new
record or we're going to bust in the attempt.  Shall we? 
Company...  Dismissed."

Kelly drove them unmercifully.  More accurately, she led them. 
There was nothing they were asked to do that she didn't do
faster, easier, better.  The attitude of the instructors was
obvious to the students: When Kelly appeared, the class was
called to attention and the instructor saluted smartly.  One
asked Kelly to lecture on Russian attitudes and tactics, which
she did.  She stressed that the authoritarian structure in the
Russian forces -- everything was controlled from the top --
created opportunities for them: "Act like you're in authority,
and they'll accept it as a fact.  Even if they don't, they'll
stop and think and that gives you an opportunity."

Kelly personally worked hardest on unarmed combat.  It was the
area of the instruction program with which she was least
familiar.  Because of her grace and agility, it came easily to
her.  After a few weeks, she was giving the instructor a hard
time.

One day she was asked to go to the rifle range.  When she
arrived, the instructor, a Marine gunnery sergeant, saluted and
began his presentation.  "This morning, we are going to use a new
course of fire we just developed.  You will use a silenced sniper
rifle -- 25 caliber.  The rifles have been sighted in and have a
trajectory that's nearly flat for 200 meters.

"The situation is this:  You have trapped an enemy patrol in one
of its own mine fields.  You did this by moving a few of their
mines and laying a few of your own.  It was a nine-man patrol.  A
Russian private was blown up by a mine, stopping the patrol in
its tracks.  You are in a grove of trees at the edge of the
field.  The objective is to see how many of the enemy you can
eliminate."

The sergeant winked at Kelly and looked to his right.  She looked
to her left and saw Mike standing there watching.  He grinned at
her and she glared back at him.  He strode over to the range and
returned the sergeant's salute.

The sergeant said, "This is Colonel Michael Callahan, here for a
refresher course after recovering from a wound suffered in
Germany.  Colonel Callahan helped us lay out the course.  Sir,
would you care to say a few words?"

Mike grinned at Kelly and then looked at the class.  "This is the
Kelly Jackson Memorial Sniper Range.  It's nasty, I know, but the
situation is exactly as it was in Germany a few weeks ago.  Major
Jackson, would you please fire the first string?"

Without a word Kelly went to a shooting position.  At each was a
very familiar-looking box.  Kelly opened hers up and began to
assemble the sniper rifle, a duplicate of the one she had used in
Germany just a few weeks earlier.  She took out three clips and
put two in her pocket.  Putting the sling over her arm, she
looked at the target patterns and smiled to herself.  It was
exactly as she had remembered it from that day.

She fired at the farthest target, then the one in the location
where the officer was, then the NCO, and finally shot the rest of
the privates.  She noticed there was even rank insignia
indicating the officer and the NCO targets.  She put down the
rifle after opening the bolt and removing the clip.  A marine
scampered down the range retrieving Kelly's targets and replacing
them with new ones.

When he returned, the sergeant and Mike looked at each one.  Mike
smiled and the sergeant just shook his head.  He took the targets
and lined up the holes.  The bullet holes were in the center of
the forehead on each one.  If the eight targets had been clipped
together, a single bullet could almost have made all of the
holes.  The sergeant held the targets up for the platoon to see.

Mike addressed the group.  "This is almost exactly how it was in
Germany with Kelly.  There are three differences, though: First,
we didn't stand the Russians up to see if all the bullets were in
the same spot.  Second, Kelly is wearing pants this time.  In
Germany, she was only wearing a combat jacket.  Third, the last
shot: In Germany, she let the last man crawl through the
minefield and then waited for him to stand up.  Then she put a
bullet between his eyes.  She wanted his clothes and didn't want
to have to crawl through a minefield to get them."

Mike grinned at Kelly who was still glaring at him.  He could
hear her whisper, "Wait till I get you home!"

"Oh, there was one more thing," Mike added.  "Those were the
first bullets she had fired in her life."  He looked at her with
a smile on his face, but love obvious in his eyes, "Kelly, may I
tell the class why you always shoot at the head?"

Kelly blushed but he could see the corners of her mouth turn up
in a tiny grin.  She nodded almost imperceptibly.

"I asked Kelly when it was all over why she always aimed at the
head.  She told me she had flunked biology twice and wasn't sure
where the heart was.  Since the rifle fires a small-caliber
bullet, she aimed at the head.  There is one final point: You may
wonder why she was shooting, not me.  I guess it's obvious to you
that I was there, too.  The reason is that Kelly had operated on
my leg the previous night and removed a bullet so I wasn't in
great shape at the time.  It turns out she's a far better shot
than I could ever hope to be, anyway."  Mike winked at Kelly,
saluted the sergeant, and walked away.

The sergeant said, "That was obviously perfect shooting. 
Incidentally, I have it on good authority that today was only the
second time Major Jackson has fired this weapon.  The first time
the results were identical, except, as Colonel Callahan just told
you, the targets were real.  Any questions?"

One of the students said, "Major Jackson, is this all true?"

Kelly nodded ruefully, "I'm afraid it is.  As a matter of fact,
one of the items high on my list of things to accomplish at this
school is to locate the heart.  It's a substantially larger
target to aim at."

Over the weeks Kelly developed a competition with Mary Harris. 
One day the company was running a ten-mile course with full packs
for time.  Kelly ran alongside Mary and said, "Come on, lard-ass!
 Let's move it."

Mary looked up, and with sweat pouring off her, grinned at Kelly,
and whispered back, "You're just jealous because you don't have
any buns."

Kelly returned the grin, stuck out her tongue and bounded to the
head of the column to pick up the pace.  That day the company set
a course record for the run.

The evenings had fallen into a pattern.  Kelly would return to
the house, strip, take a shower and collapse on the bed.  Mike
would start to knead her muscles while she groaned from a
combination of pleasure and pain.  "Darling, I didn't know I had
so many muscles to ache!"

Kelly always cooked their dinner while Mike did the shopping and
cleaned up.  Often, Kelly would meet with a small group of
instructors after dinner over a few beers and answer questions
about Russian behavior and tactics, as well as current conditions
in Germany.

With two weeks to go, Kelly and Mike had a long weekend free. 
Since Kelly had discovered there was a romantic interest between
Ken Carson and Mary Harris, she talked to Mike, and they invited
the couple to join them for a weekend at Virginia Beach.  Mike
made reservations and they all drove down together.  It was the
first weekend off the base since they had arrived and they were
determined to make the most of it.  The weather was beautiful:
sunny and warm.

On Saturday the girls were lying on the beach while the boys were
off buying beer.  Kelly was face down on her towel and had
unhooked her bikini bra.  Mary was looking at her and saw the
marks crisscrossing Kelly's back.  "Kelly, what are those lines
on your back," she asked softly.

Kelly was nearly asleep in the warm sun.  She murmured, "They're
almost all gone.  No problem."

Mary looked closer and ran her finger tips over Kelly's back. 
She could feel tiny ridges.  "What are they, Kelly?"

She heard a very soft reply.  "Whip marks.  But they're mostly
gone."

"My God, Kelly, you've been beaten unmercifully!  Who did it? 
The Russians?"

Kelly murmured, "Uh hum."

"Kelly, were you a prisoner of the Russians?"

Kelly raised herself up, unmindful of her bare breasts.  They
were at a very quiet section of the beach.  "Yes, Mary, I was. 
No one knows about it except a few people.  And I would like to
keep it that way, please."

Suddenly Mary's face collapsed and she began to cry like her
heart was broken.  "Kelly, how cruel could I possibly _be?_  I
was riding you for two weeks, thinking you were a candy-ass who
couldn't take it.  Then I find you have the Medal of Honor and I
felt knee-high to an ant.  Now I find you were a prisoner of the
Russians and obviously were tortured unmercifully.  How long was
it, Kelly?"

Very softly Kelly replied, "Nearly a year."

"Kelly, can you possibly forgive me?  What I did was criminally
stupid."  Mary looked at Kelly whose head was now propped up by
her elbow.  "My God, you are beautiful!  Kelly, your figure is
absolutely perfect.  And the Russians beat you?  Kelly, you met
Mike in Germany didn't you?  And you fell in love?"

Kelly smiled at the girl and said, "Mary, he saved my life in
more ways than I can count.  Love is such a small word.  But yes,
I love him."

Mary looked up and saw the men returning.  "I think you had
better put your bra back on.  The guys are coming back."

She grinned at Kelly and added, "Mike sees you this way, so I'm
sure he wouldn't mind.  Ken spends money on skin books, so I know
he wouldn't mind.  But Kelly, compared to you I'm as flat as a
board on top, my hips and ass are too big, my thighs are too
heavy...  I can't stand the comparison."

Kelly fastened her bra and feigned a sad expression.  "Oh, the
poor girl!"  Then she grinned.  "What bullshit!  Flat?  Then the
Rocky Mountains are flat.  Big ass, indeed.  Just because I
called you a lard ass to get you moving... you have lovely little
buns.  What does Ken think?"

Mary grinned back and said, "He doesn't know any better.  I keep
him focused on my cunt and that's all he can think about.  It's
really kind of sad, isn't it, how easy it is to keep these guys
happy?  Kelly, quickly, before the guys get here:  How has your
lovemaking been the last couple of weeks?"

Kelly looked puzzled but replied, "Great, but why do you ask?"

Mary smiled a very warm smile and said, "Because last night was
the very best yet.  God, did it ever feel good!  I think it's all
the work we've been putting in, getting in shape."

She looked up and said to the boys, "Did you get it?", and then
in a whisper to Kelly, "My cunt is flowing like a river now, just
thinking about it."

They lazed in the sun and drank beer.  When the guys wandered
off, Mary said, "Kelly, I don't know how to bring this up.  I
gather you are going to serve with Mike.  I imagine you two will
operate together with a husband-and-wife cover.  I talked it over
with Ken, and we would like to volunteer as a team, operating the
same way.  I feel like you do: I have to stick close to the big
lug to see he stays alive long enough to make it to the altar."

She looked at Kelly and there were tears in her eyes.  "Kelly, I
have absolutely no right to ask you for anything.  But I would
sure appreciate it if you would put in a good word for us if you
have a chance."

Kelly winked at the girl and said she would do what she could. 
She realized that Mary Harris was, in fact, a very beautiful girl
with a lovely figure, regardless of the cracks she made about it,
and it was apparent that she and Ken were now very much in love.

The last weeks passed quickly.  On the night before graduation,
Mike was called up to Washington, but he promised to be back for
the graduation ceremony.  It was now obvious that Kelly had
achieved her objective: The class had set performance records in
every category for which there were records kept.  She felt very
proud leading her company as it marched in for the graduation
ceremony.

Colonel Rogers addressed the class.  "Ladies and gentlemen, eight
weeks ago I named Major Kelly Jackson as company commander for
your unit.  She set out that day to make this the finest unit
we've ever had here at the school."  He smiled and continued,
"Well, she did, and you did.  Congratulations!  Now we have a
small award to make.  Major Jackson, front and center!"

Kelly was surprised but marched up to the Colonel and saluted
smartly.  He continued, "Kelly wanted to make this unit the best.
 You are the best.  She wanted you to set records that will last.
 You set the records, and at levels I'm confident will last for a
while.  I also happen to know that Kelly led by example.  There
was nothing she ever asked you to do that she didn't do first."

Rogers smiled broadly.  "Well, it seems that as a by-product
Kelly Jackson has just set every personal record that exists.  I
have an award for the top student in the class which it is my
pleasure to present to Major Kelly Jackson.  I have been asked to
inform you that her scores make her the top student we have ever
had.  Major, congratulations!"

He lowered his voice and said, "Kelly, I want to see you in my
office immediately following dismissal."

Kelly saluted and did an about face to return to her position at
the head of the formation.  As she marched back she heard Ken
Carson yell, "Three cheers for Kelly!  Hip, hip..."  There was a
thunderous roar from the students, cheering Kelly.  She took her
position and said, "I can only say thank you.  I wanted this for
you very much.  You did it.  Thank you.  Company...  Dismissed!"

Kelly was in her service dress uniform as she walked to the
Colonel's office.  The orderly said, "The colonel is waiting for
you, Major.  You may go right in."

She entered the office and saw Mike there.  She was surprised to
see Colonel Hawkins waiting also.  He was in uniform.  It was the
first time Kelly had ever seen him wear one.  For some reason,
Kelly felt there was some formality involved.  Accordingly, she
stood at attention in front of Roger's desk and saluted smartly.
"Major Jackson, reporting as ordered, sir."

"Stand at ease.  Major, there was a problem last night.  Did you
go out for drinks with some enlisted men?"

Suddenly Kelly was scared.  She stiffened to attention and said,
"Yes, sir."

"Major, did the enlisted men become... drunk?"

Kelly's eyes were straight ahead, looking across the top of
Roger's head.  She said, "Yes, sir.  I'm sorry, sir."

Rogers' voice was impassive.  He buzzed the orderly on the
intercom and said, "Send in the sergeants."  He turned back to
Kelly and said, "Major, take a seat over there," pointing to a
side chair to the right of his desk.  Moments later Sergeants
Early, Stewart, and Kennedy entered the office and stood at
attention in front of the Colonel.

Rogers' voice sounded harsh.  "Early, you're senior.  You will
answer for the group.  Did you go out drinking with Major Jackson
last night?"

"Yes, sir."

"And did you get drunk?"

"Stinking, sir."

"Then what happened?"

"I don't know, sir.  Stewart and Kennedy don't remember,either."

"What's the next thing you remember?" Rogers asked harshly.

"It was this morning, sir.  I woke up in my bed and I found a
note, sir."

"What did the note say?" Rogers asked.

"It said, 'Nighty night.  Sleep tight.'," he replied, sounding
embarrassed.

"Were you in your uniform when you woke up, Sergeant?"

"No, sir."

"What were you wearing?

"Nothing, sir."

"How about the other men?"

"The same thing, sir."

"Did you all have notes?"

"Yes, sir."

"Was your note signed?"

"Just the initial, 'K', sir."

"Was there anything else unusual?"

"Yes, sir.  There were lipstick lips on my cheek, sir, and my
uniform was put away."

"Early, what is the _meaning_ of this?  You're the best damned
man in unarmed combat we've got.  What are you screwing up like
this for?"

"I'm sorry, sir.  Begging the colonel's pardon, no better than
second best, sir.  That's the problem, sir.  It's the same with
Charley and his explosives and Bill with his small arms.  We may
have been the best, but we sure as hell aren't any more."

"Who's better, Sergeant?"

Early looked so surprised he slipped from his position of
attention.  "The Major, of course, sir.  She had no exposure to
unarmed combat in her life until she came here.  At the end of
two weeks, she was giving me a fight.  After four, she was
beating me.  After six, I could give her a fight.  Now, sir, for
the last two weeks or so, I can't even give her a good fight. 
She doesn't even break a sweat."

He turned to Charley Stewart and said, "How about explosives,
Charley?"

Stewart spoke for the first time.  "With me and Bill it was
different, sir.  She knew about our stuff.  She was as good as I
am when she got here.  She's the best there is now.  Poor Bill,
he was beaten the first day and it just got worse."

Rogers rose from his seat and glared at the three sergeants. 
"What should I do with you three?  It's disgraceful!  Three of
the most senior NCOs in the armed forces."

Early spoke for the group.  He reached into his pocket and
brought out a small wad of bills.  His partners did the same
thing.  "This is $50, Colonel.  We owe it to the Major for the
beer.  The loser was supposed to buy.  We know we didn't pay, and
we don't know who the loser was, but it sure as hell wasn't her,
sir."

Rogers made a face and said, "Get out of my sight while I think
about an appropriate punishment."  He took the money the men had
left on his desk.  "Dismissed!  But stay in the outer office
while I figure out what to do with you."  The sergeants did an
about-face and marched out of the office.

Rogers sat down again.  "Major, did you do that?  Did you take
those men back to their quarters, undress them, put them to bed,
and write notes, for chrissakes?"

Kelly sat up straight in a position of seated attention.  "Yes,
sir.  I did.  No excuse, sir."

Kelly was scared.  She was looking forward to working with Mike.
The training had gone well.  She had worked hard to ensure that
she would be ready to handle anything that came up.  Her mission
in life was to ensure that Mike lived.  Now she was frightened
that her army career was coming to a screeching halt due to her
own misconduct.  Not even the President would intervene in a
situation like this.  Kelly was pale as a sheet as she waited for
the ax to fall.

Suddenly, she heard howls of laughter.  It shocked her out of her
position of attention.  There were Pete Rogers, Tom Hawkins, and
Mike laughing so hard they almost fell out of their chairs. 
Finally, Pete regained control enough to speak but tears of
laughter were still streaming down his cheeks.

Suddenly, Kelly was mad.  Ignoring the fact that she was
outranked, she yelled, "What is going on here?  Has everyone lost
his _fucking mind?"_

All it did was set them off again.  Finally, Pete spoke.  "Mike,
didn't you warn Kelly?"

"God, Pete, no.  I mean, she's a girl...  I never thought they'd
have the nerve...  Did they catch you?" Mike asked.

Kelly had no idea what they were talking about.

"Catch me?  My God!" Pete said, "I was nearly hospitalized.  I
wasn't able to do a damn thing for two days.  How about you?"

Mike said, "I woke up on the floor.  They had me wedged under the
bar surrounded by beer cases.  I stank like a brewery and didn't
sober up enough to be hungover for nearly twenty-four hours."

He looked at Tom Hawkins and said, "Were you caught, Tom?"

Hawkins grinned, "Caught?  Christ, I was hospitalized.  I was so
damned drunk, I didn't think I would live.  Then the hangover
hit.  And I mean, hit.  Then, I was afraid I _would_ live!  It
was awful!"

Kelly was now standing with her hands on her hips.  "Would one of
you loonies kindly tell me what in hell is going on here?"

"Well, since I guess I was the hardest hit of anyone here, I
guess I should," Tom Hawkins said.  "First, Kelly, sit down,
relax, and loosen your tie.  This is fun."

He turned to her with a smile and said, "Congratulations!  This
is a first that puts all the records I heard about in the shade.
By the way, Pete was absolutely accurate.  Those three are the
best there is at what they do.  Or were.

"They were absolutely honest, Kelly: You beat them all.  And
believe me, they didn't let you.  They were really trying.  So
congratulations!  Beating them at their specialties is a massive
achievement.  But comparatively, that's minor.  I guess you know
by now that the NCOs really make things work in the Army.  If
they like an officer, they can make him look very good.  If they
try to get him, the officer doesn't have a chance.

"Well, those three are notorious.  The three of us are members of
a rather exclusive fraternity.  I'm sure you know they are cadre.
 Students come and go, but they stay.  I don't know when it
started, but it's been going on for years.  Once, maybe twice a
year, a truly outstanding candidate will come through the school.
 It happens the same way every time:  The individual will be the
top student in the class and will be flat on his face during the
graduation exercise.  It's really a badge of honor because you
have to be very good to be picked.  As I said, it averages about
one a year, so we are a very exclusive fraternity."

At this point Tom grinned broadly and said, "And wouldn't you
know it, the first damn time they let a dame in, she screws it
all up?  Kelly, you're supposed to be hospitalized.  You are the
first person to survive.  Looking at you, it's as if nothing
happened.  What did happen, by the way?"

"They asked me out last night.  Mike was out of town and I like
the guys so I said I would go.  They took me to a bar selected to
embarrass me, I guess.  There were several not-very-good
strippers working.  Anyway, they asked me if I drank beer.  The
minute I heard that, I knew I was home free.  I really don't know
what my capacity for beer is, but it's large.

"Anyway, we talked and played drinking games.  That was a problem
for them, too.  I was a lot better at them than they were, so
they had to drink a lot more than I did.  Anyway, they all passed
out and I took them back to their quarters and put them to bed."

Tom Hawkins, of course, knew of Kelly's experiences with the
Russians in Germany and Pete Rogers suspected a great deal.  Tom
said, "And you undressed them, put their clothes away neatly, put
on heavy fresh lipstick, made a big lip mark on their cheek,
wrote your note and left?"

"That's about right, Tom," Kelly said, relaxing now as she
realized what had happened.  "You mean to say I won one for the
students?"

"That's exactly right.  Moreover, it's the first victory students
have ever had against those bums!  Kelly, stand next to Pete's
desk, would you?"

Pete grinned and buzzed the orderly.  "Send the sergeants back
in, please."  The sergeants entered and formed a row again in
front of the colonel's desk.  "Okay, you turkeys.  First, I
expect you to apologize to Major Jackson.  Of all the nerve! 
First, you contributed to the delinquency of a minor.  Major
Jackson is too young to have a legal drink in this state. 
Second, each of you clowns would make at least two of her, and
you have the nerve to try to get her drunk.  What happened?"

Early acted as spokesman again.  "I guess it's only right,
Colonel.  We were the cocks of the walk around here for years. 
Whenever a really hot candidate came through -- you three are all
in the club -- we would take particular pains to show you that
you weren't as good as you thought you were.

"With Major Jackson, it was totally different, sir.  She has no
idea how good she is.  All she ever focused on was getting her
people to do their very best.  She did it by being out in front
-- literally and figuratively -- on every exercise.  Colonel,
when she's beating the shit out of us -- excuse me, ma'am -- she
doesn't even know she's doing it.  She's talking to her troops
while she's doing it to get them to do better."

He looked at Kelly and smiled warmly.  Then he looked back at
Rogers.  "Colonel, isn't that what leadership is all about?

"Colonel, we've just elected the major president of our
fraternity.  She tops it all off by beating us at _our_ drinking
games, for God's sake.  She took them all.  And we were getting
desperate.  All she did was smile.  We still can't figure out how
she got us to our rooms.  Colonel, you're right about one thing.
We do make at least two of her -- each of us."

Again Early turned to Kelly and said, "On behalf of all of us,
ma'am, I would like to apologize.  I also want you to know you
are the very best there is, ma'am.  We don't know what you did to
earn the Medal of Honor, but we're sure of one thing.  It was no
damned fluke.  It's been a real pleasure, ma'am."

Ignoring the colonel, he stuck out his hand.  Kelly took it in a
firm grip.  Then she pulled his head down and gave him a firm
kiss on the cheek.  Early turned bright red and softly touched
where he had been kissed.  She repeated it with Stewart and
Kennedy.  They snapped to attention, gave her their very best
salute and left the office.

Tom Hawkins spoke when the NCOs had left.  "Kelly, I guess it
goes to show what happens when you take a chance on an unknown
quantity.  You get record-breaking performance.

"Young lady, you are causing problems.  If I hadn't come back to
Washington, I might have lost you.  Pete, here, wants you on his
staff for reasons that are pretty obvious.  You are an
outstanding performer and possibly an even better motivator.  On
the other hand, you signed up to be with Mike.  Pete and I have
fought this one to a draw and finally agreed to leave it up to
you.  What's your pleasure?"

Kelly looked at Pete and Tom Hawkins.  Then she looked at Mike. 
"Colonel Hawkins, I'm going with Mike.  Where is he going?"

Hawkins looked at Mike.  "I guess it's up to you Mike.  I've got
to head back tonight.  Want to come?"

Mike nodded and said, "Honey, let's go to England."Chapter 7

Mike and Kelly had been in England for three weeks when a call
came for Mike from Colonel Hawkins.  He told Mike there was a
special briefing at SACEUR -- Supreme Allied Command   Europe --
which was now located in London.  Because there were elements of
the briefing involving activities behind enemy lines, Mike and
Kelly were both requested to attend.

Beginning at Quantico and at an intensive level for the three
weeks they had been in England, Kelly had been reading military
history focusing particularly on the Red Army.  After driving
over to SACEUR, they were directed to the briefing room. 
Although both were in uniform, they had been instructed to omit
decorations.  The meeting was called for two o'clock.

As they entered the room, Kelly checked her watch and found it
was one-fifty-five.  They were right on time.  They found a
four-star general with his aide and several of his staff officers
in the room along with some members of SACEUR's senior staff.  As
a tmajor, Kelly was the lowest-ranking person in the room.

The general looked up when they walked in.  "Aren't you in the
wrong place, colonel?" he asked brusquely.

"Is this the briefing with General Adams, sir?" Mike asked.

"It is.  What are you two doing here?  And this isn't a sewing
circle.  Would you kindly leave the broad outside?" he demanded.

At that moment, General Samuel Adams, Supreme Allied Commander,
Europe, entered along with Colonel Hawkins.  "I don't think she's
broad at all, Ned.  In fact, I would judge Kelly has a lovely
figure.  You are Kelly Jackson, aren't you?" he asked.

Kelly stiffened to attention as Adams initiated a salute which
she returned smartly.  He stuck out his hand and Kelly took it in
a firm grip.  General Edward Carlson, commander of all ground
forces in Europe, allowed his jaw to drop.  "Sam, did I see you
salute this girl?" he asked.

Adams looked at him and said casually, "It's customary, isn't it,
Ned, to initiate the salute to a Medal of Honor winner?  I'm
sorry, I guess you haven't met.  Kelly, it's my pleasure to
introduce Ned Carlson, commander of ground forces.  Ned, this is
Kelly Jackson."

Carlson still wasn't mollified.  "And what is a Kelly Jackson?  I
gather, Major, you hold the Medal of Honor."

Adams smiled and said, "Ned, weren't you the guy who said that
the collapse of the Weser bridge turned the tide?  Something
about gaining time and breaking the back of the Russian attack? 
Allowing time for naval convoys with troops, supplies, and
equipment to reach you?  Ned, Kelly got the medal for engineering
its collapse."

Carlson's jaw dropped.  "Sam, are you telling me that bridge was
blown?  It didn't just collapse?"

"It collapsed, Ned.  Helped by about 120 pounds of powerful
explosives, very well placed."  Adams turned to Kelly and said,
"Major Jackson, I've been asked by my chief engineer to ask you a
question.  Have you had any art training?"

"Yes, sir.  I have.  It was about the only course I could pass in
school."

Kelly was stunned by Adams' reaction.  As soon as she replied, he
muttered, "Oh, shit!"  Then he smiled and said, "Major, you don't
get on the good side of commanding officers by making them look
bad.  You just cost me $20.  My chief engineer bet me $20 you had
art training.

"Ned, you'll appreciate this, I think.  After all, it was your
ass Kelly saved.  At any rate, my engineers have been studying
the photographs of the blown bridge along with a stack of
pictures we had of the thing when it was standing.  Their
professional opinion was that to do the job you did with a
limited quantity of explosives required a feeling for the
structure -- a sense for where the forces in the bridge were
concentrated.  At any rate, they don't think the people who
designed the bridge could have done it as well."

He grinned at Kelly and said, "It's one of the reasons I wanted
to meet you.  The other reason is a rumor floating around that
you are the most beautiful girl in England and I wanted to check
it out myself.  Looking at you, I think it is absolutely
accurate.  Welcome."

He turned to the staff, nodded, and took his seat at the head of
the long table.  Mike and Kelly, the most junior officers, took
seats at the far end.  The point of the meeting was quickly
obvious.  The delay at the Weser had cost the Russians their
offensive momentum and now the pendulum was swinging toward the
Allies.  The Russian advance had been stopped and the Allies had
regrouped and positioned their forces to go on the offensive.

The problem was how?  It emerged that the Russians were in a
defensive posture.  Their strength was not in the front lines but
in a tactical reserve of guns and armor that could be positioned
quickly to support the Russian positions, launch an attack on the
Allies flank following an attack, or both.  Hawkins was present
because he coordinated Allied intelligence from behind the
Russian lines as well as running penetration teams such as
Mike's.

Kelly listened to the discussion for two hours until it slowly
wound down.  No one had any good ideas.  The Russian tactical
reserve was a major -- and apparently insoluble -- problem. 
Finally, General Adams said, "I guess we've heard from all the
experts.  Does anyone here have an idea?"

At this point Kelly spoke up.  "General, I have a question.  Have
the Russians lost a major armored battle since Marshall Solov's
book on armored tactics was published?"

Adams looked surprised at the question.  He turned to his chief
of intelligence who shook his head.  Adams said, "Kelly, I guess
the answer is no.  And would you please tell me who the hell
Solov is and what he has to do with anything?"

Kelly blushed but stood up and went to the board.  "General,
Solov is Field Marshall Vasilly Solov, commander of Soviet tanks
in World War II.  He is the man who wrote the book they're still
reading from.

"Sir, the Russians are a very interesting people.  They are very
authoritarian and very conservative.  I believe the two elements
are closely linked.  Clearly, when all orders flow from the top,
one's tactics need to be fairly simple.  Otherwise the necessary
orders have to be very complex... and the possibility of major
misunderstanding increases dramatically.  The Russians stick with
what works.  If they haven't lost a major armored battle since
the book was published, they're probably still following it."

Adams was interested but skeptical.  "Major, why is it I've never
seen or heard of this book you're talking about if it's so
important?"

"General, as far as I know, it has never been translated into
English.  For some reason most major Soviet military books are
not printed in English.  Therefore, sir, unless you read Russian
you couldn't have read it.  And because there aren't many
officers who do, you may not have heard of it, either."

Adams wheeled in his chair towards his intelligence chief. 
"John, what about it?"

"The major is absolutely right, General.  We don't have many
officers who read Russian."

Adams faced Kelly, "And Major, I gather from your question and
comments that you do read Russian and you have read Solov's
book?"

"Yes, sir.  I finished it last week.  General Carlson, how would
you react if I told you I could prevent the Soviet reserves from
moving?  In the very best case you would break through and hit
the reserve force while it's still immobilized.  Would that
simplify the problem?  Because I think it can be done.  Moreover,
General, it could be done so you don't fully commit until you
know the reserves are locked up.  In other words, you won't have
to attack blind.  What then?"

Carlson looked at her with a disdainful expression on his face. 
"In that case, Major, we win.  But there is a saying, 'If wishes
were horses, beggars would ride.'  Jackson, those aren't even
wishes, they're dreams.  It can't be done!"

Mike watched proudly as Kelly stood her ground.  "It can be done,
General, and Mike and I plus one other team can do it for you."

Adams interrupted at this point.  "Let me remind you, Ned, this
is the girl who stopped the Russians for you... by herself. 
Normally, I would be skeptical.  However, you should know that
Major Jackson commanded a training company at Quantico that set
every record the place keeps.  In the process -- as a by-product,
mind you -- she set every personal record they have.  When this
young lady says something can be done, I can't dismiss it
lightly.  Kelly, how can it be done?"

"General, it relates to Solov and the Soviet top-down mentality.
Several facts are well known.  For example, only lead tanks have
radio transmitters.  The other tanks only have receivers.  They
can only take orders.  They can't even initiate a communication.
Even their maps are classified and restricted with respect to who
has them and who can see them.  I think it's a fair bet that the
average Russian soldier has only a vague idea where he is.  And
so it goes, right to the top.

"General, I'll bet only the Army commander or his deputy has the
authority to order the reserve units into action.  We're
concerned about two things, I think: armor and massed artillery.
Mike and I will take out the armor.  A second team I have in mind
will knock off the artillery."

Adams said, "But how, Kelly?  Do you intend to assassinate the
Army commander?"

"Yes, sir.  Although we're happier with euphemisms, that's about
right.  Specifically, I intend to wipe out the command post with
the army commander inside and then pick off the deputy when he
comes to assume command.  Then we take out any ambitious-looking
senior officer who looks like he's interested in taking up the
slack."

Carlson jumped to his feet.  "That's unconscionable!  It's
murder!  It could be done to us."

Kelly remained cool and poised.  "General, I understand that OSHA
is about to issue a ruling that warfare must carry a warning
label.  It can be hazardous to one's health.  General, do you
bomb or shell enemy headquarters positions?"

"That's a dumb question, Major!  Of course, we do."

"And the purpose of this, General, is to cut down some trees? 
Plow up fields with artillery shells?  That can get you in real
trouble with the environmentalists, sir."

"Don't be fresh, young lady.  Of course not.  It's to put the
headquarters out of action."

"Taking great care, General, to ensure no one is hurt, I trust?"

Carlson was about to make an angry retort when he caught himself.
 He thought for a moment and slowly a grim smile appeared on his
face.  "What you're saying Kelly is we both try to take out enemy
commanders.  You're just more efficient at it than we are.  And I
guess you're probably neater and don't make such a mess.  That
appeals to women, I guess."  He grinned with the last remark.

Kelly grinned back.  "Now you have it:  Women are inherently
neater.  Maybe we would run neater, less messy wars.  But we are
certainly more bloodthirsty.  With respect to your comment about
it being done to us, it could, but it wouldn't be worth it.  Our
forte is communications.  Hell, everyone's wired.  We don't have
a single pyramid with only a few at the top who can issue orders.
 Well, what about it?"

"Kelly it would work, I think.  General St. Clair, as chief of
intelligence, what do you think?" Carlson asked.

"General, the major is very accurate.  That is the way the Soviet
Army is organized and operated.  If you knock off the top two or
three guys, the entire unit under them -- however large it may be
-- is immobilized.  It will work.  The question is, can it be
done?"  He smiled at Kelly and continued, "Major, I was late
arriving, and didn't have the pleasure.  I'm John St. Clair and I
run intelligence.  Who, may I ask, are you?"

Tom Hawkins responded.  "John, this is Kelly Jackson, the girl
who blew the Weser bridge."

St. Clair let out an almost-inaudible whistle and smiled.  He
turned to his boss, General Adams, and said, "Sam, my opinion is
that if the commanding officers of those units can be knocked
off, we will immobilize their units.  Further, if she and Mike
Callahan can't do it, it can't be done.  I think we should try.

"However, there is one problem... a big one: We don't know with
any accuracy where the units are.  Reconnaissance hasn't found
them and we haven't picked them up on satellites.  We're in the
dark.  I don't think it would be too helpful for Mike and Kelly
to just wander around Germany looking for a corps or so of
armor."

Kelly studied a large-scale map of Germany while the discussion
continued.  After about forty-five minutes of talking, they were
still no closer to a solution to their dilemma.  The reserve
units had not been located.

Finally, Kelly spoke up again.  "I think I can help you find it,
General.  I suspect it's right here."  She pointed to an area on
the map that showed wooded terrain.  There were roads leading
both north-south and east-west.  "General, is this area heavily
defended with antiaircraft missiles?"

St. Clair smacked himself on the forehead.  "Kelly, would you
like a new job?  Mine is now available.  My God, how could we be
so dumb!  Why in hell would they have tiered antiaircraft
defenses defending a woods?"

Kelly interjected with a grin, "I understand the Greens have
become pretty important politically in Germany.  They would be
all for defending the trees."

Her face became serious, again.  "It's perfect, sir.  It has to
be here.  There are north-south roads to use to reposition
against any threatened sector and an east-west road to bring up
supplies.  The woods screen from satellites and the missiles keep
our high-tech recon stuff out of the way."  She went back to her
chair and sat down.

General Adams got out of his chair and began to pace the floor. 
Then he turned to Carlson and asked, "What do you think, Ned?"

"It makes all kinds of sense to me.  Major, how long will it take
to mount your operation?"

Kelly replied, "We could go out tonight, but we won't.  You're
the question:  When will your troops be ready to move?  We will
hit the headquarters about an hour or so after you attack.  It
will take at least that long for them to decide that your attack
is the real thing, not a feint.  We'll hit just before they
decide to move.  Remember, a replacement commander can take over
in a matter of hours.  We strike when they don't have the hours
available."

Adams turned to Tom Hawkins.  "Tom, with your approval, I would
like to promote Kelly to lieutenant colonel, effective
immediately.  I am also putting her in for the Legion of Merit. 
My God!  I ask the girl to join us because I just wanted to meet
her.  I thought she would get a big thrill out of seeing us
high-paid brass make important decisions.  Well, I guess she's
seen us make them... after she tells us which ones to make."

He looked up and smiled at Kelly.  "Kelly, is my information
correct?  You are only nineteen years old?"

"Yes, sir, that's correct," she replied.

"Well, Kelly, I think you're now the youngest lieutenant colonel
in the history of the U.S. Army.  Congratulations."  Again he
smiled and continued, "Kelly, I believe Tom told me you didn't
finish high school?"  Kelly nodded.  "And yet you're reading
books on Russian military doctrine and tactics... in Russian.  By
any chance have you read Clausewitz's _On War..._ in German?"

"Yes, sir.  I read that a couple of weeks ago."

"How did you do in history, Kelly?  I heard you weren't too good
in biology."

"I usually just passed.  I always thought it was pretty dull. 
Now I'm finding it quite interesting," Kelly replied.

"You should," Adams said.  "Young lady, you're making history,
not just reading it."  He turned to Carlson and said, "How about
it, Ned?  When will you be ready to launch your attack?"

"Give me three weeks.  Kelly, how much lead time will you need to
get into position?"

Kelly had resumed her seat.  From the end of the table she said,
"General, please ask Colonel Hawkins or Mike that question."  She
was blushing as she spoke.  "I've done far too much talking as it
is."

Tom looked at Mike who said, "We'll need about three days notice.
 Timing is rather tight.  We need enough time to spot the
targets, but we're behind enemy lines and exposed.  We don't want
to be there two minutes longer than we have to be.  I think three
days is about right."

Final arrangements were made and the meeting participants started
to gather up their papers.  General Adams turned to Tom Hawkins
and said, "Tom, I assume Mike and Kelly drove over together?" 
Hawkins said that they had.  "Would you mind taking Mike back
with you?  I want to talk to Kelly alone for a few minutes."

When the meeting was adjourned, Ned Carlson came over to where
Kelly was gathering up her few notes.  He saluted her smartly and
said, "Major, I would like to apologize for the way I acted when
you came in.  I was totally out of line."

He looked at Kelly carefully and said, "Sam's right about one
thing: You are a very beautiful girl.  And he says you're only
nineteen?"  Kelly nodded with a very small smile.

"Christ, I have a daughter who's nineteen," Carlson said.  "I
don't trust her to back the car out of the garage.  And you saved
my men.  You really did."  Carlson looked pensive and added, "I
sometimes wonder about the Medal of Honor.  Don't get me wrong. 
The winners always demonstrated bravery of the highest order. 
But sometimes I think it' more a function of creative writing by
an adjutant somewhere.  Often, there are other more heroic
actions that go unremarked.

"Kelly, I'm not as dumb as I act sometimes.  I heard Sam say 120
pounds of explosives.  That's four full charges... 30 pounds
each.  He said singlehanded, so that's you alone.  Kelly, you
don't weigh 125, do you?"  She said she weighed about 120.

"Then you were carrying heavy packs repeatedly down to that damn
bridge."  Carlson was looking at her eyes.  They were impassive
as he continued, "There's another thing about the Medal:  Every
instance I've heard of, a guy went berserk.  He did things with a
total disregard for his own safety.  As a result, the elapsed
time is usually seconds or, at most, a very few minutes.  This
must have taken hours, didn't it?"  Again Kelly nodded.

Then Carlson shook his head.  "Kelly, I'm going to do something
that's just between us.  You will have the private codename,
CAVALIER.  I'll check when I get back to be sure it's available.
It will be in the general orders, with particular emphasis on our
AWACS planes.  If you call using that codename, if we have it,
you get it.  Understand?"

Kelly was baffled, but said nothing.  Carlson opened a pad and
asked her a series of questions -- her mother's maiden name, her
father's middle name, the street address of her home -- designed
to verify the identity of the user.  Finally, he rose and stuck
out his hand, "Kelly, you kept us alive and fighting.  We're
going to do our damnedest to return the favor.  And I would like
an invitation to your wedding when this is over."

Kelly returned his firm grip and grinned.  "Is it that obvious,
General?  I thought I was very discrete."

He smiled back at her and said, "Kelly, if Mike Callahan wasn't
so big and strong, your looks in his direction would leave him
melted on the floor.  You're discreet, but how discreet can you
be?  Congratulations!  He's a very fine guy and I'm sure you'll
be very happy."  He excused himself and Kelly went looking for
General Adams' office.

When she left the room she found a WAC captain waiting for her. 
The captain appeared to be in her thirties and obviously didn't
like her assignment.  She stiffened to attention and said, "Major
Jackson?  I've been ordered to escort you to General Adams'
office."

As they walked along the corridor, Kelly glanced at the woman
walking in step beside her and said, "Why don't you like me,
Captain?"

"It's none of my business who the General chooses to sleep with.
But bringing one of his tarts into headquarters disguised as an
officer is too damned much!"  The woman's face wore an expression
as if she had eaten something that tasted terrible.

Kelly asked softly, "Does this happen all the time?  Sam told me
I was the first."

"It is, and I'll make it my business to be sure you're the last,
too!" she said emphatically.

They entered Adams' office with the captain standing aside. 
Adams rose and greeted Kelly again.  They shook hands and Kelly
could see a sudden expression of surprise on the captain's face.
"Thank you Cathy.  Don't leave yet.  I want you to initiate
papers for Major Jackson.  First, a promotion to lieutenant
colonel, then an award of the Legion of Merit...  I'll give you
the details after she leaves."

He looked at Kelly and grinned.  "How long have you been in the
Army now, Kelly?"

Kelly returned the smile and said, "Officially, since March 1. 
Actually, since April 15."

Adams shook his head.  "Then this is your second promotion and
fourth major decoration.  Cathy, the medal joins the Medal of
Honor which Kelly already has, along with the Silver Star and the
Purple Heart."  Adams' voice changed as he said, "Cathy, what's
wrong?"

Kelly turned and saw the captain's face crumpled like paper.  She
said, "General, I would like to resign effective immediately. 
You can't live with a confidential secretary who can be as wrong
as I've just been."

The girl started to cry and Kelly went to her and helped her to a
sofa.  She put her arm around her and tried to comfort her, but
that seemed to only make matters worse.

Kelly whispered, "You love him very much, don't you?"  The girl
nodded quickly.  "Does he know it?"  The girl's head shook.  "Why
in hell don't you tell him, Captain?"

The girl looked up at Kelly and the tears stopped.  She murmured
her thanks and quickly left the room.  Adams had been watching
the whole episode in utter amazement.  Kelly took a seat in front
of the General's desk.

"What was that all about?"  Adams asked with bafflement obvious
on his face and in his voice.

"Are you married, General?" Kelly asked quietly.

"I was.  My wife was killed in an automobile accident almost four
years ago.  But what does that have to do with anything?"

Kelly didn't answer the question directly.  Instead she asked,
"What is your secretary's name?  Obviously, her first name is
Catherine."

"It's Catherine King.  Why do you ask?"

Kelly explained Cathy thought she was Adams' mistress and that
the whole arrangement with uniforms was a fraud.  Adams regarded
her with a look of utter incredulity.  Finally, Kelly said,
"She's madly in love with you, General, and has been for quite
awhile."

Adams shook his head and said, "Kelly, you're..."  He stopped in
mid-sentence and smiled weakly.  He started again.  "Kelly, I was
about to say that you're crazy.  Then I realized I've never known
you to be wrong about anything.  You are hereby authorized to
kick me in the tail if I fail to listen to what you have to say.
But Kelly, you have to be wrong.  Cathy's been with me for years.
 I couldn't get along without her, but it's all business."

Kelly smiled and said, "When your wife was killed, was Cathy a
pillar of strength?  Did she made the funeral arrangements and do
everything possible to take things off your shoulders?"

"As a matter of fact, she did.  I'm not sure I could have made it
without her.  But she's so young.  What could she possibly
see..."

"General, how old are you?  I would guess between forty-two and
forty-five.  Am I close?"  Adams said he was forty-three.

"And I guess Cathy's about thirty-two or so.  What's the big
deal?  General, as long as your wife was alive Cathy loved you
from afar and expressed her love for you in the quality of her
work.  When your wife was killed, after a decent period of
waiting, she hoped for something more.  Then she sees me -- an
even younger girl than she is -- and thinks she's lost you." 
Kathy looked at Adams intently.  "Remember, General, what she was
saying.  She was saying that you are attractive to a girl of
about twenty.  What does that say about your attractiveness to a
woman of thirty-two?"

Adams sat in his chair, stunned.  Kelly continued, "General, am I
correct in assuming there's an officers' club around here
somewhere?"

Adams pulled himself together and brightened.  "Kelly, how long
have you been in this man's army?  Christ, we go to war without
ammunition before we survive without an O-Club.  Actually, it's
pretty nice.  Why do you ask?  You want to go clubbing with
Mike?"

Kelly grinned and said, "Since we'll be around for a few weeks,
we just might.  But what I would like to do is borrow your
secretary for a few hours after we finish and have a
heart-to-heart talk.  With your permission, of course, sir."

Adams just shook his head.  "Permission granted, Colonel."

He then smiled and said, "You know, this is what I wanted to talk
about.  I've been hearing Kelly Jackson stories at an increasing
rate.  I wanted to see who this superwoman is.  Kelly, your
billing doesn't do you justice.  You are a truly beautiful young
woman.  And you're madly in love with Mike Callahan."

Kelly blushed and said, "Does it really show that much, General?
General Carlson said the same thing."

"Yes, Kelly, it does.  And on you it looks beautiful.  Mike
Callahan has to be the luckiest man alive."  Adams' face grew
serious and he continued, "Kelly, that was a digression.  What
really fascinates me is your wisdom.  That's a word that's
usually associated with age and maturity.  You don't have the
age, but you certainly have the maturity.

"I was watching you carefully in utter amazement in the
conference room today.  You handled yourself as well as any
senior staff officer who's been running briefings for years.  You
even used humor to tease Ned Carlson when he jumped on you for
planning an assassination.  Then there's your knowledge:  I can't
believe you were as bad a student as you claim to be.  You are
one of the smartest people I have ever met.  What's the story?"

Kelly realized he was serious and her usual teasing answer
wouldn't do.  She decided to answer his question fully and
honestly.  "General, I guess I owe the Russians something.  No
one has asked how I happened to be in that school in Germany in
the first place.  If anyone thought to ask, the answer is that I
was kicked out of about one and a half schools a year.  I was on
my way to still being in high school when I turned thirty.  The
attraction of this school to my parents was, first, it was the
strictest school they could find:  It was organized like a prison
which is what it now is.  Second, it was away from all of my
associates.  General, I was a real creep.

"Then the Russians came.  It was funny.  I was a drunk.  I did
drugs.  But I was still a virgin, for reasons that were never
very clear to me.  I guess it would have to be called an accident
of nature.  Maybe I was never sober enough to get laid.  Anyway,
my virginity lasted until the first afternoon after they arrived.
 I was the first girl taken.  I think about thirty men took me,
one after the other, on the stage of the auditorium with the
whole school watching.  I almost died.

"Then, there were the beatings and the things we were forced to
do.  I entertained at O-Club functions by stripping and then
taking any interested Russian, however he wanted to do me, on the
middle of the floor.  This got to be kind of tedious so I shaped
up and got to be the commandant's mistress.  For the first time,
I had an interest in life:  I wanted to kill as many Russians as
I could before I got killed.  My life was over... I was ruined. 
Then Mike attacked and I escaped under cover of his fire.  I
guess you know the rest.  Mike took me and convinced me that I
wasn't such a terrible person.  He literally put me back together
again.  Now I have a purpose in life."

She smiled warmly and continued, "Mike asked me to marry him and
be the mother of his children.  That's my focus now.  General, I
told him that my breasts would swell and my belly would bulge
with his child growing inside me.  I can't wait.  I know I'm
going to be a mess, but I will be the happiest mess on the face
of the earth.  I'm working hard because my job is to make sure it
happens.  To do that I have got to keep Mike alive, so I need to
be as good as I can be and know as much as I possibly can.  I
guess it's that simple."

Adams smiled back at her.  As she was speaking, particularly
about Mike, her face lighted up.  Kelly just glowed, making her
beautiful features even more beautiful.  "Kelly, I'm making it my
business to try to be sure it all happens."

Kelly then told him about Carlson and the codename, CAVALIER. 
Adams picked up the phone and buzzed John St. Clair.  "John, is
CAVALIER a name in use right now?"  St. Clair checked the book
and said it was not.  Adams told him it was in use as of now and
quickly told him what it was to designate.

He hung up and buzzed Cathy.  "Cathy, two things: First, when I
finish with Colonel Jackson you're to go with her.  You are under
her orders for the rest of the day.  Second, get me Ned Carlson
right now, wherever he is."  He hung up the phone.  A moment
later there was a buzz and he picked it up again.  "Ned, where
did they find you?  Where are you now?"

"I just got back to my office, General.  We're on a secureline."

"Ned, Kelly Jackson is here with me.  She told me about the
CAVALIER thing.  I want that sent to all relevant units, and it's
very official.  Send it over your name, countersigned by me.  St.
Clair has cleared the name and Kelly tells me she gave you the
validation information.  I gather if she calls using that
codename, if we have it, she gets it.  Is that the idea?"

"Yes, sir.  That's exactly what I had in mind."

"Okay, Ned.  It's official.  That's the way it will be.  And Ned,
thanks for thinking ahead.  It's one of your best ideas."

He hung up the phone and then picked it up again.  He buzzed and
his aide came into the office.  "Jack, do you have the light
colonel's leaves?"  The aide smiled and pulled out a small box. 
"Kelly, please rise.  It gives me great pleasure to promote you
to lieutenant colonel.  Congratulations!"

He pinned the silver oak leaves on her uniform in place of the
gold ones worn by a major.  After attaching them, he kissed her
on the cheek.  Kelly blushed as he told her, "Take care of
yourself, Colonel.  We need you around here.  Dismissed."

Kelly saluted smartly and said she was going off with Captain
King.

To be continued

* * *

Comments and constructive criticism are sincerely welcome.  Let
me hear from you.  morg105829@aol.com

"Kelly"  Copyright 1989, 1998, 2001 by Morgan. 
<morg105829@aol.com>

All rights reserved.  No part may be reproduced or transmitted in
any form or by any electronic means, including photocopying,
recording or by any information and retrieval system, without the
written permission of the author. <1st attachment end>


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