At 9:00 PM, a sedan entered the farm.
The special ops team surrounding the farm immediately spotted the vehicle. Rumlow raised his binoculars, cranking the magnification to maximum as he focused intently on the driver's seat.
The car drove straight up to the villa and stopped. Jason got out from the driver's side, followed by Harley and Christine from the back seat. The three of them walked into the villa, laughing and talking.
Hmph. After hours of waiting, Jason finally shows up. Rumlow immediately reported the intel to Nick Fury. Of course, his direct superior, Sitwell, also received a copy of the report.
Back at the Triskelion, Fury received the news and ordered Rumlow to maintain close surveillance. He was to report immediately if Jason left the premises or when the bedroom lights went out.
Just as Fury hung up, Alexander Pierce delivered more good news. He had persuaded the President to authorize the strike. Two ground-launched Tomahawk cruise missiles at a nearby Army base were armed and ready. On Fury's command, the missiles would launch. Within minutes, Jason's home would be a sea of flames.
The operation to annihilate Jason was in motion. Once he was sound asleep, he would die peacefully, without feeling a thing.
.........
The wooden villa, Hudson Valley.
Christine moved first, kneeling between Jason's legs. She wrapped her hand around his hard cock, stroking slowly, feeling it throb. She leaned down, her lips parting, and took him into her mouth. Her tongue licked the tip, tasting the salty pre-cum, then slid along the shaft. She sucked gently, her lips tight, moving up and down, spit dripping onto his balls. She cupped them with one hand, squeezing softly, her eyes looking up at Jason.
Harley knelt beside Jason's chest, her lips brushing his skin. She kissed his pecs, her tongue flicking over his left nipple, then his right, making him shiver. Her fingers traced his abs, nails scraping lightly. She kissed his collarbone, then sucked his neck, leaving a small red mark.
"You're fucking amazing," Jason groaned, his left hand tangling in Christine's hair, guiding her as she sucked harder, her mouth wet and warm, making soft slurping sounds. His right hand gripped Harley's shoulder, pulling her closer. Harley kissed his jaw, her lips soft, then nibbled his earlobe, whispering, "Only for you, Jason."
Christine pulled off his cock, her lips shiny with spit. She stroked him with both hands, her grip firm, and said, "I want you inside me." Harley moved down, taking Christine's place. She licked the tip of Jason's cock, then slid her lips over it, sucking deep until it hit the back of her throat. She bobbed slowly, her tongue pressing the underside, her hands resting on his thighs.
Jason pulled Harley off his cock, the wet pop loud in the room. "Christine, lie back," He said. She lay down, spreading her legs wide, her pussy wet and pink. Jason knelt between her thighs, guiding his cock to her entrance. He pushed in slowly, feeling her tight walls grip him, and she moaned, "Jason, yes." He thrust steadily, each push deep, her pussy soaking him, the bed creaking.
"Ahh…mnnn..Jasonn…fuckkk…me…ahhhh."
Harley knelt by Jason's side, kissing his shoulder, her hands on his back. She sucked his neck again, her breath hot, whispering, "You're so good." Christine's moans grew louder, her hands grabbing Jason's arms, nails digging in. Her pussy clenched as she came, her body shaking, juices dripping down. Jason thrust hard, groaning, and came inside her, his hot cum filling her, some leaking out as he slowed.
He pulled out his still hard cock, and turned to Harley. "Your turn," He said. Harley lay back, spreading her legs, her pussy glistening. Jason slid into her, her tightness squeezing him, and she gasped, "Jason, fuck." He thrust steadily, each motion deep, her pussy wet and warm. Christine kissed his chest, her lips soft, hands on his arms.
"Ahhh…Jason…yessss….mnnn…fuckk…"
Harley's hands gripped the sheets, her moans sharp as her pussy tightened, cumming hard. Jason groaned, thrusting deep, and came inside her, his thick cum spilling into her core.
They collapsed, Jason in the middle, Christine on his left, Harley on his right. Their hands rested on his chest and thigh. Their breaths were heavy, the room quiet except for their breathing. Harley smirked, saying, "We're not done, Jason." Christine's eyes glinted, and Jason grinned, ready for more.
*
Unaware of the mortal danger he was in, Jason, after a heated session, hopped out of bed for a shower, leaving Harley and Christine panting on the sheets.
When the sound of the shower filled the room, the two women immediately sat up and stared at each other.
Harley's expression was serious, but tinged with joy. "You know," She said, "I'm late."
Christine nodded, her own expression a mix of laughter and tears. "Me too."
A wide, excited grin spread across Harley's face. "Does that mean we're really pregnant?"
"Shh!" Christine quickly shushed her, glancing toward the bathroom. "Don't get ahead of yourself," She whispered. "Let's sneak out tomorrow and get a test at a hospital. Once we're sure, then we can surprise him."
But then she added, a little uncertainly, "You're sure it'll be a good surprise? Not a... bad one?"
"I'm sure," Christine said confidently. "Jason and I grew up together. I know him better than anyone."
"Maybe it's because of his own family, but his desire for a family, for children, is stronger than either of us can imagine."
"He wanted to settle down and start a family a long time ago. If we hadn't broken up in a stupid fight back then, our kid would probably be in school by now."
Hearing that, Harley's worries finally melted away. She lay back on the bed with a goofy smile, imagining herself as a mother.
Half an hour later, the bedroom lights went out. Rumlow reported it to Fury, who ordered him to maintain surveillance. The missiles were scheduled to launch in one hour. He was to ensure his team maintained a safe distance.
After giving the order, Fury leaned back in his office chair, quietly waiting.
.........
Back on the sixth floor, Stan was pretending to work while secretly playing a game, but his eyes were glued to the clock in the corner of his screen. When the time hit 23:00, he abruptly stood up and walked out of the office area. His shadow, startled, quickly got up and followed him.
In the underground garage, Stan got in his car and drove out of the Triskelion. His shadow's car followed close behind. But unseen by either of them, a tactical team under Coulson's direct command was tailing them both.
Stan didn't go far. Ten minutes later, he pulled up in front of a nearby Chinese restaurant. He went inside, ordered twenty takeout meals, and returned to his car with the large bags.
The surveillance team was baffled. They had just been about to send someone in to investigate when Stan came back out. Was he really just getting food?
To be safe, the team leader gave an order: "Leave one unit behind. I want background checks on everyone in that restaurant. And copy all their surveillance footage. Send it to Agent Coulson."
"Understood!"
Stan drove back in the direction of the Triskelion, whistling a tune. When the traffic light turned red, he stopped. Leaning over, he casually picked a piece of meat out of the container on the passenger seat and popped it in his mouth.
In the dozen or so seconds he was stopped at the light, he activated his power. An immense psionic energy enveloped a ten-meter radius.
Hmph. Right on schedule.
Having found his target, a smile touched Stan's lips. He closed his eyes and transmitted all the information he'd ripped from Sitwell's mind to the driver of the car behind him and to his left.
The light turned green. The transfer was complete. Stan gently pressed the accelerator and drove straight back to the Triskelion.
Back on the sixth floor, he walked in with the large bag of Chinese food. "Ladies," He called out, "Your midnight snack is here!"
"Oh my god!"
"Stan, you're the best!"
The women he'd been flirting with earlier giggled as they came over to grab a container of food. Soon, the scent of Chinese takeout filled the office. Their envious male colleagues could only swallow their drool and curse Stan under their breath.
Coulson's surveillance team returned to the Triskelion and immediately reported Stan's bizarre behavior. The matter was too important for Coulson to decide on his own, so he went to the Director's office to let Fury handle it.
"He bought takeout for the female agents in the office?" Fury frowned, seemingly unable to make sense of Stan's actions.
"Yes," Coulson said, "Just in the last few minutes, I've had a dozen agents complain that the entire office smells like food and they can't concentrate on their work." He added with extreme dissatisfaction, "Director, I told you before, a man like Stansfield is not a good fit for S.H.I.E.L.D. He's only been here a week and he's already corrupted the entire sixth floor. Give him another month and..."
Fury seemed not to hear him. "Were the people at the restaurant investigated?" he asked.
"Everyone," Coulson replied. "Completely clean."
"And he didn't do anything else unusual on the road?"
Coulson shook his head. "I've reviewed all the surveillance footage. Nothing." Then he asked in surprise, "Director... you don't think he tipped Jason off, do you?"
Fury remained silent.
Coulson laughed. "No, that's impossible. The only people who know about this are Level 7 agents and above. They've served S.H.I.E.L.D. loyally for decades."
"There's no way Stansfield could have gotten the intel. Besides, while Jason's associates may be scum, they're talented scum. I can't believe Jason would ever see anything in a man like Stansfield."
"Let's put the Stansfield issue aside for now." Fury seemed completely unconcerned that one bad apple would spoil the whole bunch. He asked, "What time is it?"
Coulson checked his watch. "Three minutes to twelve."
"An hour is more than enough time for Jason to be sound asleep," Fury said, his eye glinting coldly.
"Once Jason is dead, it won't matter whether Stansfield is one of his people."
...............
Several hundred kilometers away, at a U.S. Army base, the ranking officer in charge of the operation received a call from Nick Fury.
Seconds later, a missile silo roared.
Two Tomahawk cruise missiles, trailing long plumes of fire, rocketed into the sky.
Their target: the Hudson Valley, New York.
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