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Author's Note: When (reluctantly) checking Friends Join the Navy for
something else entirely, I suddenly perceived something I had been missing
all these years - a reference to one of the patrol boats as a gunship,
which in fact would seem entirely plausible for the kind of work they are
supposedly doing. I realised that, with reasonable luck, this would give an
opportunity to Monica and Rachel to take a much more active revenge on their
tormentors than they get to do in my Friends Leave the Navy.

Hence this story, whose action can be imagined as developing some time in
the course of the main part of Friends Join the Navy ch. 7. Everything
recorded in Wallace Mason's vile story up until then can be taken as having
happened more or less as he describes it, with the proviso that the various
discontinuities and implausibilities have to be ignored, also all the
ludicrous references to enormous breasts, with which Courteney Cox and
Jennifer Aniston are certainly not endowed (nor does Alexandra Paul have
much up there, as anyone who has seen nude stills from Sunset Grill can
see).

Of course, this story is not intended to suggest anything about the sexual
behaviour of the actresses Alexandra Paul and Carey Lowell.

Warning: there is a lot of violence in this - and not sexual violence,
either.



Friends: Friends Join the Navy Part 7a - Part 1 (FF,oral,viol)
by Exintaris ([email protected])

All this time, through everything she had endured, Monica had refused to give
up. She had been constantly trying to formulate possible plans and watching
for an opportunity, but until now nothing had looked remotely possible. Now,
though, she saw a chance. For the first time, she was neither under restraint
nor actually in the hands of men. Of course, she was being screwed hard and
painfully by the Lieutenant Commander, but she did not imagine that she would
actually try to prevent her getting away. Go for it, go for it, she said to
herself in an attempt to psych herself up.

When she felt ready, she hissed, "Rach."

No answer.

"Rach!" she said more loudly.

Rachel turned a face full of pain and despair towards her.

"I have a plan," Monica said, in a voice she tried to make both quiet and
carrying. "It just might work, so be ready to go overboard. But I need a
distraction."

A light dawned in Rachel's eyes. "Great," she breathed. She seemed to
think only for a second or two, then yelled, "Yeah, Commander, give it to
me! Do it! Give me all you've got!" She pushed back at Commander Paul very
vigorously as she cried out, just as Lieutenant Commander Lowell, who had
overheard some of Monica's words, said, "What's that?"

Commander Paul was so startled by Rachel's outcry that she paused in her
almost mechanical and, she had to admit, distinctly pleasurable thrusting
into Rachel's cunt, though the crewman's insistent pounding of her ass
from behind kept pushing her forward rhythmically.

"Huh?" she went involuntarily.

"Oh, don't stop, please!" Rachel cried, grinding her body against Commander
Paul urgently. "It's so good with you, I think I could actually come! You're
so much better than these raping bastards!"

"What's that?" roared Anaconda.

"You heard!" Rachel yelled, turning to him. "She's giving me a better
screwing than any of you scum! She's arousing me!"

All the men's attention was on her now, even that of the men screwing the
senior officers, who had both stopped in apparent amazement. Anaconda, his
face flushed with rage, seemed momentarily at a loss how best to react.

Monica seized her chance. She pulled herself off the strap-on that the
Lieutenant Commander now held motionless within her, dodged agilely past the
nearest men, leaped onto the launch tied up alongside, and looked for what
she desperately hoped would be there. Elation filled her when she saw that,
yes, the two seamen who had brought out the Commander and Lieutenant
Commander had left their automatic rifles on the launch. She grabbed one,
as Anaconda was bellowing, "After her!"

"No, don't!" she heard Smith yell. "Get down!"

But it was too late. Several of Anaconda's crew started forward, only to find
themselves looking into the muzzle of the gun held by Monica, her face set in
an expression of demonic ferocity.

"Merry Christmas, motherfuckers!" she screamed, swinging the rifle to and fro
as she fired a series of short bursts. Those who were not knocked down hit
the deck at once, while Anaconda cried out in horror as he saw Esteban,
Christian, Marco, his best men, go down.

"C'mon, Phillip, let's get outa here!" shouted Virgil, the local fisherman.
But his friend was lying on the deck groaning, shot through the shoulder and
belly. Virgil got up and scurried, bent very low, to the other side of the
boat, where he dived over the railing.

"Rach, get off the boat!" Monica screamed as she turned, looking for targets
that were not close to Rachel and the senior officers, and fired some bursts
towards the stern. Already Rachel had dodged through in the confusion, to
jump into the sea. A strong swimmer, she reached the launch quickly.

"Mon, you're a marvel!" she cried in heartfelt praise as she hauled herself
on board, and ran to embrace her.

"No time for that," cried Monica, though she smiled at her. She pushed the
rifle into her hands. "Keep me covered while I load the machine gun."

"Yeah!" cried Rachel in delight. With an expression of ferocious joy she
began to throw bursts at the boat, firing into its side as well as at the
deck. She was not a very accurate shot, but at that range she hardly needed
to be. Her shrill screams of rage and the fact that her firing, even if
wild, was scoring hits were so unnerving that more than one of those trying
to take cover filled their pants. Some managed to get hold of guns, but they
did not dare to show themselves for more than a second or two and fired wild
as a result; nothing came very close to Rachel.

When Monica had opened fire, the two senior officers, now alert, also seized
their chance. Lieutenant Commander Lowell turned and drove the point of her
elbow into the face of the man behind her, then grabbed a knife she saw in
his belt and stabbed him in the stomach with it. At the same time Commander
Paul smashed her fist into the face of the man doing her ass, knocking him
back, then came up off the deck and ran for the stern, holding her body low.
She drove her head into a crewman's stomach with such force that he folded
up, totally winded, and went on past him to jump over the side, yelling,
"Into the sea, Carey!"

But Lieutenant Commander Lowell ignored her. She was running directly at
Anaconda, who had hit the deck fast when Monica started shooting. He had
produced an automatic from somewhere and was on his knees behind his chair,
trying to steady his aim on the launch. Only seeing her coming at the last
moment, he fired wildly and missed. She slashed at his shooting arm, then
swung the knife backhand across his face with a scream of hatred. He
bellowed in agony as blood spurted from the deep furrow she cut. Then she
ran past him towards the bow.

One of those on board the boat raised up to take a shot at her. An unusually
accurate burst from Rachel's rifle blew him away, but not before he had
winged Lieutenant Commander Lowell in the left arm.

"Quick, we must pick her up!" cried Commander Paul, who had made it to the
launch and hauled herself over the side by now. She ran to the engine and
started it. Ignoring the fact that the launch was tied to the smugglers'
boat, she pushed forward fast, causing the boat to lurch, which upset anyone
who was standing or kneeling. Then the ropes snapped and the boat righted
itself abruptly, causing further upsets. Knowing that now no one on board
was a friend, Monica fired a sustained burst with the now loaded machine gun,
raking the boat from bow to stern and back again, trying to fix her aim just
above the level of the deck. Shouts and screams indicated that she was
hitting targets. When she stopped, there was no movement, though groans and
outcries of pain could be heard.

While Rachel kept watch, taking up the second rifle because she was not
sure how much was left in the magazine of the first, they slowed to pick up
Lieutenant Commander Lowell, who was struggling but still afloat.

"Oh Carey, you should have gone overboard at once!" Commander Paul wailed as
she and Monica hauled her on board. "Does this launch have a first aid kit?"
she appealed to Monica, seeming suddenly distraught.

"In a compartment by the wheel," said Monica. "I know where, let me get it."
She got it out, while Rachel took over the machine gun. She fired a short
burst into the boat's hull, but there was no response.

"Right, let's get the hell away!" cried Monica, handing the kit to Commander
Paul and taking over the wheel. She speeded up, heading away from the boat
into the open sea, while Commander Paul treated and bandaged Carey Lowell's
arm, which to her obvious relief had only sustained a flesh wound, and gave
her a painkiller.

Carey Lowell was smiling. "I stabbed one," she said gleefully, "and I cut
that fat bastard right across the face." She looked down. "Er, Alexandra,
I'm still . wearing that thing. Could you get it off me?"

Alexandra Paul looked down, and an expression that might have been shame
came over her face. Somewhere along the line she had clearly got rid of her
own strap-on; now she began to remove Carey's. Monica and Rachel, who were
standing at the wheel with arms round each other's shoulders, gave no sign
that they noticed.

"Uh, Lieutenants," Alexandra Paul said a bit tentatively when she was done.
"I guess we, uh, we owe you an apology."

Monica stopped the engine and turned round. "Oh, and what might that be for,
Commander?" she said in a heavily ironical tone.

"For, for screwing you the way we did," Alexandra Paul said in a low voice.
She hung her head, looking very guilty.

"But he did make us do it," Carey Lowell said in a tone of apology.

Rachel gave a bitter laugh. "Did he tell the Commander to squeeze my breasts
like they were made of playdough? These scars of mine are fresh; that hurt."

"Yeah, and he didn't tell you to pull my hair like that," Monica pointed out.
"It sure seemed like you were enjoying what you were doing. And, okay, I've
no doubt you'd have been beaten up if you resisted, but since when are senior
Naval officers too wimpish to stand a bit of roughing up? How do you think
that would sound in an official report?"

Carey Lowell looked affronted. "Now see here, Lieutenant - " she began, but
froze when Rachel swung the rifle towards her. It was not this so much as the
look of near-madness on Rachel's face that frightened her. Also, Monica now
picked up the other rifle, her face set.

"We've taken so much," Rachel said grittily, "but we aren't taking any more,
not from you, not from anybody. Understood, ma'am?" She spat out the last
word.

Alexandra Paul put her hand on her friend's arm. "Don't push them, Carey,"
she murmured. "They've got the guns, and they're right on the edge." She
spoke more loudly to Monica and Rachel. "We had been through a lot ourselves,
by then," she said in a conciliatory tone, "and, unfairly, we blamed you for
it. I think I went ... sort of crazy."

Carey Lowell nodded. "I know I did. I remember, I thought it was all your
fault, and that's why I was so hard on you. And now I'm sorry, really sorry."
She tried to smile winningly.

"Yeah, well, just saying sorry isn't gonna cut it," said Rachel fiercely. "I
want some payback, and I'm sure Monica does too."

"What kind of payback?" said Alexandra Paul rather warily.

Rachel looked at them both with a sudden glint in her eye. "You're lesbians,
aren't you?" she said abruptly.

"Lovers, I'd say," Monica added.

Carey Lowell flushed, but Alexandra Paul's face did not change. She nodded.
"Yes, we are," she said softly.

"Uh huh," said Rachel casually. "You seemed to know what you were doing.
Well, it would certainly serve you right if we got to screw you in return,
maybe up the ass even. But the Lieutenant Commander's hurt, I'm feeling too
good about getting away to want to hurt you more than you've taken already,
I wouldn't know what I was doing anyway, and I don't want to sink to the
level of those scum. However ... " - she paused, then grinned rather
savagely - "I would feel I had gotten payback if one of you licked my pussy
until I came. I think you should do that for both of us, or please Monica
some other way if she doesn't want licking."

"Oh no, that would be fine," said Monica, gazing at her friend in open
admiration.

"Are you lesbians too, then?" said Alexandra Paul in a conversational way.

Rachel laughed and shook her head. "No, but that doesn't mean I couldn't use
an orgasm. It would make me feel a whole lot better, and I'm sure that goes
for Monica too."

"Yeah," said Monica very emphatically.

"So, what do you say, Commander?" Rachel, patting the rifle she was still
holding, as if to emphasise that she had the upper hand.

But Alexandra Paul was smiling. "Why would you think that a punishment for a
lesbian, to lick the pussy of an attractive young woman like you?" she said,
almost light-heartedly. "My name's Alexandra Paul, by the way."

Rachel nodded and relaxed a little. "Rachel Green," she replied. "Well,
Alexandra, I said payback, not punishment. And for one thing I'm not likely
to be very clean down there, and for another, the Navy says you're my
superior officer, but you'd be bowing down in front of me and kinda acting
like my sub." She grinned in a wolfish kind of way.

To her surprise, Alexandra Paul did not get mad at this.

"I'm Carey Lowell," Carey now said, turning to Monica, "and you are
Monica ...?"

"Geller," Monica supplied. She also seemed to relax a little.

"Well, to be honest, I don't see much of a problem," said Carey frankly.
"Because I'd feel better about it all if I did something like that. I don't
think this arm should slow me down too much, so, Monica, I'll be happy to
lick you - but could I maybe wait just a bit, for the painkiller to get a
grip?"

"Sure," said Monica, giving her a little smile and putting down her rifle.

"Then we're all agreed," said Alexandra, "because I'm ready to do this too.
Can you sit, Rachel?"

Rachel sat down and spread her legs, keeping her rifle in her right hand, and
looked expectantly at Alexandra, who shook her head at her.

"Leave go of the rifle. You can trust me, I swear. I do want to make it up to
you."

Rachel smiled and put the rifle down. "Be gentle, please," she said. "I'm
very sore round there."

"I will," said Alexandra and bent to her work.

She was as good as her word. Slowly and lovingly she ran her tongue over
Rachel's pussy lips and clit, caressing them with extreme gentleness at
first. Almost at once Rachel started gasping and moaning and throwing her
head about in excitement. Alexandra slowly stepped up the strength of her
licking, paying particular attention to Rachel's clit, to Rachel's very
vocal approval.

"Oh God, this, this, this is what sex is supposed to be like!" she cried.

Watching her, Monica could only agree. The expression of ecstasy on Rachel's
face reminded her of pleasures she had had in the past, as well as making her
feel extremely horny.

"Oh, this is marvellous!" Rachel cried, thrusting her crotch up at Alexandra.
"Oh please, give me more, Alexandra! Please go into me, I can take it!"

Alexandra, who was very much enjoying the spicy taste of Rachel's
increasingly copious juices, slowly thrust her tongue into her cunt, and made
a tongue movement designed to see if she could find Rachel's g-spot. Rachel
squealed, and threw her hips up at Alexandra's face. A little more action in
that area had her erupting in orgasm, with uninhibited cries of delight.

"You know, that looked so good," said Monica, in a slightly choked voice. "I
want my turn now." She was feeling as wet down below as after a good session
of foreplay.

Rachel got up as if to take over Monica's place by the wheel, but Alexandra
forestalled her. "No need," she said. "You rest."

"Well, I don't know about you, Monica," said Carey, "but that excited me."
She looked at her closely and giggled. "Oh yeah, now I see, it excited you
too."

Monica knelt down and put herself in a position where Carey could get at her
easily. When Carey began with a long firm lick all the way up and down her
slit, she knew she was in good hands. Every nerve in that part of her body
seemed to spring into life. Completely involuntarily she moaned deeply.

"M'm," went Carey, "Sweaty, but tasty. I shall enjoy this."

She continued with long sweeping strokes, now ending at Monica's clit, which
swelled quickly. Monica began making impatient noises, wanting Carey to
finish her off, but Carey maintained a very steady rhythm, though she did
slowly speed up. When Monica started pleading with her to make her come, she
paused for a moment.

"How are you feeling on the inside?" she said, breathing rather heavily.

"Not too bad," Monica gasped. "I could take your tongue, I think - but no
fingers."

"You got it," said Carey, and she carefully began to manoeuvre her tongue
between Monica's pussy lips. With very urgent noises Monica pushed up at her
as Carey began to use the tongue in a fucking motion. When Monica's noises
had become so high-pitched and urgent that it seemed that she might produce
a full scream at any moment, Carey rammed her face into her cunt, so that
her stiffened tongue drove in as deep as possible and she actually hit
Monica's clit with her nose.

Now Monica did scream in ecstasy, and she began coming so copiously that it
was all Carey could do to keep up with the flow. She did not swallow it all,
but sat up and turned to Alexandra with what looked like a mouthful and made
gestures to suggest she was offering some. Alexandra knelt down and took the
mouthful, swallowed, then rolled her eyes and made very exaggerated noises
of appreciation, which made Monica laugh.

"Oh ... my ... God," said Monica in a very relaxed voice. "I shall never be
the same."

"Me neither," said Rachel. Her voice was light enough, but watching Monica
being licked, when she had never seen her having sex of any kind before, had
made her feel a sudden strong wish to be the one who made her look like that.

"You have been through hell," said Alexandra, sitting down beside them. Her
voice was very sympathetic. "But you did not break; you survived. I freely
confess, I was very low when that bastard set us to screwing you - because
here I was, a senior officer, and stuff like that wasn't supposed to happen
to me."

"There's more to it, I think," said Monica, also sounding sympathetic. "It
must have been worse for you to be screwed, being lesbians. At least you
could say we had previous experience ... though not of being gang-raped."

There was a moment's silence, while they all looked at each other in a
friendly way, accepting on both sides.

"So what now for you?" said Alexandra in an interested way. "Will you think
of that as just a one-off?" She left the question unfinished.

Rachel gave a rather nervous giggle. "It's too early to talk about stuff like
that," she said. "But, while the topic's in the air - you did a good job on
us, but you didn't get anything in return - "

"Sure we did," interrupted Carey cheerfully. "I got some of the tastiest girl
honey I ever had."

"Mm, and you're very spicy, Rachel," said Alexandra. "If your men don't go
down on you, they're certainly missing something."

Rachel grinned and gestured dismissively. "What I'm saying is, do you want
anything now? Because I could handle that, I think. I'm kind of in the mood
to experiment, now I've found out how great lesbian sex can be." But she was
looking at Monica as she said it.

"It's a great offer, but I'll take a rain check," said Alexandra. "I think
it's time we headed back to the post, or maybe we should check on the boat
first, what do you say?"

"I wouldn't mind a chance to get some clothes," said Monica frankly.

"I don't give a shit," said Rachel stoutly. "I don't think I'm ever gonna
give a shit about stuff like that again." She grinned and looked at Monica.
"If Chandler were to catch me now, coming out of the bath with just a towel
round my waist, I'd let him take a good long look at everything I've got."

She and Monica shared a giggle over what was evidently a notorious moment
from their past. Alexandra looked at them indulgently. They were good kids,
she thought, who had indeed been through hell, and in the circumstances they
had shown considerable fortitude. She wondered if they would stay in the
Navy now - probably not, unfortunately.

The smugglers' boat seemed only to have drifted a little from where they had
left it, and there was no sign of movement on board, but they approached very
cautiously, Carey at the wheel, Alexandra at the machine gun and the other
two with automatic rifles, all trained on the boat.

When they were within hailing distance, Alexandra shouted, "Hello the boat!
Anyone alive on board?"

After a pause there came a high-pitched voice. "I'm alive."

"That's that little bastard Ricky, the cabin boy," muttered Rachel. "I've got
plenty to pay him back for." Her face darkened.

"You hurt?" Alexandra called. "What about the rest, are they all dead?"

"I don't know," Ricky called back, "but they're not moving."

"You'd better be telling the truth," Alexandra responded. "Okay, we're coming
aboard."

Slowly they moved alongside, ears and eyes straining for any suspicious sound
or movement. They did hear one low groan, but nothing more.

Alexandra looked at Monica and Rachel. "If you give me one of those rifles,
I'll go first," she said.

Rachel shook her head. "I'll do it," she said. "Just give me a leg up."

Alexandra and Monica boosted her over the rail. Rachel went over as steady
as a veteran, running to take a new position, swinging her gun all around in
search of any possible target. She saw the monstrous belly of Anaconda among
heaped bodies at one end of the deck.

"All clear, I think," she said. "Looks like that fat tub of lard's never
gonna torture and rape again." She watched Anaconda closely as she spoke,
and thought she detected a twitch of movement.

Alexandra came on deck with the other automatic rifle, then Monica.

"Look around for a gun," Alexandra murmured to her. "So where is he, Rachel?"

Rachel gestured. "I'm not sure he's dead," she whispered. "Be very careful."

"Cover my back," said Alexandra, and she began to approach stealthily, making
as little noise as possible. From their eyes she judged that more than one of
the men lying around were still alive, but they did not move.

Monica gave a cry of delight as she found a rather old rifle that must have
been part of the smugglers' gear. She looked it over and decided it was
loaded, and the safety catch was off. "Okay, where's that goddamn Ricky?"
she said.

"H-here," came a trembling voice from behind Anaconda's body.

"If you have a gun, throw it away, then put your hands in the air, right up
high, and stand up," Alexandra snapped, fully back in Commander mode.

There was a pause, then a sigh, and they heard something clatter. Rachel
whirled.

"By God, you better not have another gun there, boy," she yelled, "or I'll
blow your raping ass right off."

"Oh God, don't let her kill me, please!" Ricky wailed. "He told me to do it."

"Do what?" said Alexandra. "Is that tub of shit still alive?"

"Only ... just," came a creaking voice.

"Okay, stand up, Ricky, and come over here," said Alexandra in a less
military voice. "But you'd better not be planning any tricks, or it will be
my pleasure to let Rachel kill you. You have a lot to answer for."

His body shaking, Ricky slowly stood and edged round Anaconda's body. Then he
almost ran forward and kneeled at Alexandra's feet.

"He made me do it," he stammered. "He made me do all those things."

Rachel laughed derisively. "Like hell! You enjoyed it all, didn't you, boy?
Well, you just treasure your memories, you worthless little prick, because
you'll need something to get you through those long years in prison, when
you'll likely get your pretty white ass raped till it's as roomy as an old
whore's cunt." Her voice was vicious, and as she finished she stepped forward
and slapped him very hard across the face, with an expression of hatred.

Alexandra put out a hand to hold her back. "I know you suffered greatly,
Rachel," she said gently, "but he's our prisoner now, and he'll be a valuable
witness. Better not to brutalise him."

Rachel sighed, and her shoulders relaxed. "Yeah, you're right," she said. "I
just wanted to ... to hit one of them ... personally."

"Well, if Anaconda's still alive, maybe we can go and pay our respects," said
Monica darkly.

They walked over casually, no longer afraid of ambush, though they approached
him from behind. But his hands were empty. There were wounds in his chest and
belly, as well as the slashes across his face and arm. He stared up at them
malevolently.

"Those stupid Navy men!" he grunted. "I'd be having fun with you yet, if they
hadn't come out with the gunboat."

Monica shook her head at him. "No, it was all your own stupidity," she said.
"You didn't have me tied down, you didn't have any man holding onto me - it
was the chance I had been looking for, and I took it." She leaned down and
spat in his face, aiming at his eyes. "I hope your wounds are hurting you as
much as you and your men hurt me!"

Anaconda tried to keep a defiant look on his face, but it was clearly an
effort. With a trembling hand he wiped the spittle from his eyes.

"You know what I'd like to do?" said Rachel. "Cut off that dick of his and
ram it right down his throat." She spoke with such viciousness that Anaconda
evidently believed her, for he showed fear in his eyes for the first time.

"You wouldn't treat a dying man like that, would you, Commander?" he said
hoarsely.

"She could do it, for all of me," said Alexandra coolly, "but I suppose it
wouldn't look good. But I don't see why you shouldn't suffer a little." She
walked round and kicked him squarely between his legs. A strangled cry of
agony burst from him, as he instinctively tried to fold up, only to be
prevented by the pain of his wounds. He placed a hand over his groin, moaning
and holding up the other hand as if begging not to be hurt again.

Alexandra regarded him with satisfaction for a moment, then looked around.
She raised her voice. "Any Navy men still alive? Make a noise or move an arm
or something if you are."

They heard a noise and turned in its direction. Rachel thought she recognised
the man, and went over; it was Peter Jarvis, one of her crew. He had leg and
arm wounds, and was barely conscious.

"This one wasn't quite so bad as some of the others," she said. "He did stop
those fishermen torturing me, after a while."

"Well, I guess we'd better take this boat in," said Alexandra. "You, Ricky,
come tell me how to work her, oh, and break out any first aid you've got.
Monica, you tie up the launch and tell Carey to come aboard. Rachel, you go
looking for any clothes that belong to any of us."

Considerably later, the smugglers' boat moved slowly into the harbour, driven
by Alexandra, with Carey at her side, while Rachel and Monica accompanied
them in the launch, Monica at the wheel and Rachel at the machine gun. All
the fishermen assembled to see, with one of the seamen who had stayed on the
base among them. They gasped in amazement to see the four naval officers
disembark, wearing parts of their uniforms only but all armed, though Carey
only carried an automatic; her left arm was now in a rough sling. Rachel wore
nothing above the waist except her cap, and like Monica she was barefoot, but
she seemed completely at ease in her semi-nakedness, ignoring the stares and
mutters. She hefted her rifle with casual ease, handling it as if it was part
of her.

"Oh my God," said the seaman, and he whirled to run away.

"Halt!" yelled Rachel, firing a shot in the air. "Next one goes in your
back!"

The man froze.

"Come here, seaman," rasped Alexandra.

Looking very nervous, he came back.

"He one of those that raped you?" Alexandra said to Monica.

Monica looked at him briefly. It was John Berger. "Yup," she said curtly.

"I had to, to save my life!" Berger quavered.

"You loved it," Monica snapped, glaring at him. "You did far more than you
need have done. And you went in with taking over the post, which was an act
of mutiny, and handing me over to Anaconda a second time."

"Where's that worthless scumbag Virgil?" said Rachel coolly to the fishermen.

There was silence for a moment, then one of the older men said, "When he got
ashore, he run right to his boat. They sailed off, fast as ever they could."

"We'll put out an alert; I doubt they'll be able to hide long," said
Alexandra. "Okay, you" - she pointed at Berger - "are to consider yourself
under arrest." She looked at the fishermen. "Now, we have one wounded seaman
on board and some dead ones and a lot of other dead men. Some of them may be
your people. It would be wise of you to help in dealing with this." When
there was no immediate response, she said, "The Navy's not likely to get
after any of you for failing to prevent what these men did, especially the
attack on Lieutenant Green, but it won't be too pleased - your government
could get pressure, which it will pass on to you. If you help out now, that
will count in your favour." She turned back to Berger. "Now we are going to
walk slowly to the men's quarters. You go in front, and don't you dare try
to run away. None of us would hesitate to cut you down. And you, Ricky, you
join him."

Leaving the fishermen to get on with unloading the boat, the four officers
walked behind John and Ricky, bearing more than a passing resemblance to the
scene near the end of Sam Peckinpah's famous movie where the last of the Wild
Bunch go to free their friend. As it turned out, the shot from the harbour
had alerted the other seamen, but none had armed themselves. They stared in
fear as the officers approached.

"Ten-hut!" yelled Alexandra, and automatically the seamen snapped to
attention.

"Any of them who didn't rape one or both of you?" she asked Monica and
Rachel.

"Those two," said Rachel, pointing. "Jensen and Holmes. They're in my crew.
They didn't have the nerve to protest when Monica's crew took over and two
of mine joined them, but they didn't do anything to me or her, at least. Of
course, they could be gay." She gave a mirthless laugh.

"Well, Jensen, Holmes, I guess the Navy won't be too hard on you," said
Alexandra. "You others, though - you're all under arrest for mutiny and rape.
Jensen, take them and lock them up, along with this boy. Maybe you'd go along
as guard, Rachel."

"Sure," said Rachel cheerfully. She strutted forward, and suddenly yelled at
the seamen, "Keep your eyes to yourselves, God damn you! I'm in a very bad
mood right now, and my trigger finger is real itchy, and you know the Navy's
not gonna make much fuss about mutineers getting shot, don't you?"

    

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