JamesSavik

Mount Weather Emergency Operations Center FEMA/Homeland Security Operations Center Bluemount, VA July 16, 2016 10:00EST/9:00CST Director of Homeland Security Francis Kirkwood glared at the technicians as they hastily arranged the teleconference. Half of the Federal bureaucracy was connected now in addition to an alphabet soup of military and law enforcement brass. On the hour he began the conference. If anyone was late they could read the brief. "I am Frances Kirkwood, Direct

Washington, DC White House July 16, 2016 0832EST, 0732CST Secret Service Director Donald Moss had been in his office when he heard the SAM(Surface to Air Missiles) missiles fire off. He was out of his desk and in the Situation Room in a matter of seconds. "Where is POTUS?" The Duty Officer answered, "His detail put him on Marine One as soon as we got the alert and he's en route to Camp David. The first family is at their residence in Denver. The Vice President has been dive

Memphis, TN July 16, 2016 0730 The morning traffic was rising to its peak as Officers Carson and Ogletree pulled their cruiser out on the big loop around town comprised of I-240 on the South, I-40 on the North and I-69 around the West. Morning traffic watch was a big headache and both of them were relieved that they would soon be rotating shifts. It never failed that someone would screw up and tie up traffic for miles. Sure enough, the first call of the day took them to the Lama

Camp Shelby Hattiesburg, MS July 16, 2016 0530CST Sergeant Rob Taylor watched his kids doing morning P.T. After five weeks in the Mississippi heat, they were shaping up nicely. They weren't bad for weekend warriors. They were all too damn young and greener than grass. All of them had missed out on the big sand. Afghanistan. Iraq. That had all wound down and most of the vets of those hell-holes didn't want anything more to do with the Army. It was a shame really. Taylor had spent

Comicfan- As I have time, and inspiration, I like to give the prompts a go. Just wanted you to know that in my latest (attempted?) thriller Case: Black, you'll see a number of scenes that were originally prompt responses. I planned it that way for a long time. It took a while for it to come to critical mass. Have a look: http://www.gayauthors.org/story/jamessavik/caseblack James

Homeland Security Command Post Carlsbad, NM August 30, 2005 It had been a hard week for McGrath. He had seen some of his worst nightmares about Pandora come true. He had painfully reconstructed the last few weeks around the White Sands Lab but no one was exactly sure what had gone wrong. Jerry Fowler from the New Mexico National Guard entered the Command Post and said, “Do we have anything new?” McGrath shook his head and said, “Things went to hell so fast there is just no wa

Las Cruces, NM August 25, 2005 "Oh my god, I think that I killed him!", the young woman shouted holding a shovel. Officer Ron Ward of the Las Cruces Police Department answered, "I'll check. Where is he?" She said, "In the back yard. He surprised me on the patio. He tried to grab me but I smacked him." Her hands were shaking as she held the shovel at port-arms. Ward pulled his Beretta and mag-lite. He keyed his radio and said, "This is one-L-19 responding to complaint of a

Alamogordo, NM August 20, 2005 "Look, I know you weren't really ready to talk to me, but I have to tell you what has been going on. Just listen to me ..." the voice on the phone said. Sal Rossa sighed at his cell phone. The clock by his bed read two oh-three am and he had a crazy woman on the phone. "Jessie. How nice to hear from you. What gave you the idea that I didn't want to talk to you. Not taking your calls, ducking your voice mails or actually hiding from you?" Now it wa

White Sands Missile Range Homeland Security BL-5 Lab March 22, 2004 After clearing security and going down two different elevators, McGrath guessed that he was at least 500 meters underground. The corridor had heavy steel blast doors with key card locks and biohazard signs every 50 meters. The deeper into the facility that he went, the higher the biohazard protection level of the labs that lined the corridors. He asked the guard what the USAMARID needed from the Dept. of Homela

CIA Headquarters Feb. 1. 1993 Senior Agent Scott McGrath sat in the auditorium as the new Director droned on about his new agenda. There was a brand new President in the White House with a brand new agenda. The buzz word on the Hill was “Peace Dividend” and no one wanted to hear about left over Cold War nightmares. The United States had been very helpful to the Russians spending billions of dollars to mothball old reactors, destroy chemical and biological weapons and decommission

SHAFE: Supreme Headquarters Allied Forces Europe Secret Arms Reduction Talks June 10, 1990 Andrew North waited for his Russian counterpart in a lush conference room. Things were going exceptionally well between NATO and the new Commonwealth of Independent States. In fact the United States and the new Commonwealth were cooperating very closely. It had come as a rude surprise to discover the true size and scope of the former Soviet Union’s chemical and biological weapons programs. Over the

Kuibyshev, Russia (Renamed Samara in 1990) Dec. 22, 1989 19:20 hours Anatoliy Yolkin, his wife and two daughters waited nervously in their old family dacha the Volga River. Russia was not a country known for peaceful transfers of power. In everyone there was a great fear that there would be purges like those of the October Revolution in 1917. Yet all was quiet and Yolkin’s General had approved his leave and said, “Perhaps when you get back, sanity will have returned.”

GRU Headquarters Moscow, USSR Dec. 20, 1989 At 2am the phone on GRU Colonel Bonderenko’s desk rang. Bonderenko glared at it. Only a third of the bottle of vodka on his desk was left. For days it had been happening and now there was no turning back. The Soviet Union was going to fall. What would become of his beloved Rodina(motherland)? He answered the phone with a terse, “Daa?” “Misha. They’re going to do it. They are really going to do it.” His oldest friend

Some of the most horrifying things on earth come from the minds of men. Venezuelan Equine Encephalitis before it became the Pandora virus. It's never going to be all right again.

Vozrozhdeniya Island (a.k.a the Island of Death) Aral Sea Soviet Biological Warfare Testing Facility Kazakh Soviet Socialist Republic July 20, 1984 "Come on Vanya, unless you want to be another test subject!" Vanya Akulov quickly tested the restraining strap and checked the instruments monitoring the test subject’s vital signs on the last chimpanzee and left the large vapor chamber. The beast gave him a murderous glare but was completely restrained and tranquilized. There were t

A Cold War nightmare returns with a roar in a devastating bio-terrorist attack on the United States.

There are ways of presenting these topics without being sensationalistic. A character can be a victim of rape, incest or child abuse off camera and you can work with the effect. In fact, we probably should pay more attention to recovery than we do. All three of those acts can cause all sorts of psychological and relationship problems in their victims and create opportunities for great drama. The act itself has little to do with sexuality. Rape, incest and child abuse are all crimes of power (or powerlessness). It's not erotic, it's psychotic. It's a very sick thing and no exploration of the act itself can be anything but sick if it is honestly done. -*-*-*-*- Tom & Bob - a mini story Tom meets Bob at the county fair and they have a hot, steamy one night stand. Some months later they discover that they are in the same floor of the same dorm at State University. Tom pursues Bob who is happy to have sex but isn't into relationships. In fact Bob is having sex all over the place. Tom wants Bob but can't understand his promiscuity and is probably his only friend. Bob gets into trouble with his promiscuity (he gets the clap) and as part of his treatment, the doc suggests counseling. There Bob discovers that he has been the victim of childhood sexual abuse, he has repressed the trauma and needs a lot of counseling to get his head together. Yada, yada and of course yada. Tom stands by his man and they live happily ever after. ___________________________ OK: does this story need to be censored? Could this story be a positive thing that is more about recovery than depravity? IMHO there are things in this story that as adults we can be in denial of but that's not going to make it go away and... it may bite you. HARD.

That's why I'm not on Nifty. I don't want my work to sit beside "inter-generational" or tender tales of a lonely cowboy and his horse. I don't want to be associated with that. I don't bomb Nifty with nasty emails or make a big ruckus. In fact I'm pro-Nifty. Nifty has its rules and standards and that's fine. However, I have been known to push the limits with things that I've written. I've taken some heat for it. In the past, I've written about drugs and their use in the gay community. A lot of people didn't see the value in that. In a collaborative project we fought like cats and dogs over whether drugs should be a part of the plot line. In another one of my stories, I explored the cruising culture. Some people reacted to these stories like I had released classified material and committed treason against the big gay orthodoxy. This may point to our motives for writing. Some people like to write for fun. Others may see it as a outlet. I know that I've written stuff for both of those reasons. However- when I take on a topic like this, my motive is to say- this is out there and think about it. I'm not a social crusader and I don't play one on TV but If I can carry a positive message, raise an issue or make people think I consider it a win. To answer your question: No- I don't think we should censor ourselves to make the gay community look clean and pure as the fresh fallen snow. That dog won't hunt. We can and should shine the bright light of day into the dark alleys and corners of our community. Self-flagellation is not required but a little introspection couldn't hurt.

My knee jerk reaction to the question is no. 1st amendment, freedom of speech, freedom of expression, etc. All that stuff is to the American, the holy of holies. However- when viewed objectively, we censor ourselves all the time. Does this make me look fat? Are you going to fall into that trap? There's also the matter of the law. While molestation, rape, incest and bestiality happen, such stories aren't generally appreciated and may actually involve questions and lawyers and judges. While this site does not censor us, it does set limits. So far, I've had no problems with those limits. The topics that are limited are things that just don't interest me to explore.

Duke Ellington- Caravan

I vanish during my busy season at work. It runs from April to September. This summer was crazy busy.

FROM: National Command Authority TO: All Commands RE: CASE BLACK THE UNITED STATES HAS BEEN HIT WITH A CATASTROPHIC BIO-TERRORIST ATTACK OF UNKNOWN ORIGIN. CASE BLACK HAS BEEN DECLARED. FOLLOW PROTOCOLS: SILENT WINTER, VIOLET PYRAMID, SIERRA HARVEST. DECRYPT ORDERS AND ACTIVATE CASE BLACK IMMEDIATELY. ALERT STATUS TO DEFCON 2. SNAP COUNT IS IN EFFECT.

In the Colts-Broncos game the over and under had got to be a 100 points.

Revelations Parliament Station Jeff Mason and Marion Scott filed into Parliament Station's Bean Stalk. The space elevator car was big and could easily move a hundred people from high orbit to the planet surface in a matter of a few minutes. The waiting crowd was not large, so only a quarter of the seats were taken. A disembodied voice directed bored travelers to take their seats, secure their belongings and fasten their safety harness. Jeff followed Marion to an empty row of

Growing up in 70s Mississippi I've seen a lot of shit. I didn't mean to be. In fact I was mortified to be outed on my 13th birthday by a Mormon religious fanatic scoutmaster that discovered some of the boys in his troop were fooling around and no sodomites were welcome in his troop. This is another story- an old story I've told until I'm sick of it. It's not really the point. It's what happened afterwards. The first reaction was violence. People who I had been cool with for years decided that it would be a good idea to punch me. It wasn't a very good idea because I punched back- hard. Before long I was punching first just in case. You might say I was punch drunk. I was in trouble fighting before the first bell of the first day of 7th grade. This was somewhat made better my a football coach to sort of took me under his wing. He had played linebacker in college and for a while in the pros. I got him for home room and he sort of looked after me. Back then every grade had 3 groups: I started out in group 1. A students, high achievers and such. Group 2 were average and Group 3... well thanks for playing. I was in group 4. It was more or less the 70s version of special ed. The Coach knew what he was doing. I taught that class as much as he did. There were kids in that class that couldn't read because nobody ever bothered to take the time to teach them. There were kids in that class that were small and immature for their age. There were a few that were very, very slow. It was good for me and them but I missed a lot not being in a regular group. I ended up protecting a lot of those kids from bullying and harassment because I knew just how it felt. I won some hearts and minds that year. It helped later on. The second reaction was abandonment. Kids that I had known for years, some I had been close to, were just suddenly gone. It played really ugly games with my head. I wouldn't treat a rabid dog that way. I'd shoot the poor bastard to end his suffering. I tried out a lot of things for a while and settled on that psycho crazy kid that will fight anybody because he just doesn't care. It was kind of a self defense thing. The more desperate the fight I got in, the dirtier I fought it. If I couldn't win, I'd at least make it hurt like hell. I took some rather severe beatings that way but nobody came back for seconds. Fighting and football were a way I could let some of the anger out. And I was one very, very fucking angry kid. I didn't understand. I thought hey it's Ok. It'll get better, I'll out last the bullshit but the bullshit never seemed to stop. The more bullshit that came my way, and believe me, there was plenty, the meaner and angrier I got. It gave me a power of a sort. I would get in a sort of berserk rage. I would get so high on adrenalin that I didn't really feel pain and I was a big strong kid to start with. The third reaction was balkanization. The meaning of that is sort of like its meaning in diplomacy. To balkanize a country, you cut it off from it's allies. People that I did try to make friends with were harassed because of it. What do you want with that big queer? He must give great head because that's all they are good for. The middle school bully logic probably hasn't changed much over the years. The fourth reaction was instant enemies. There were people that, upon learning that I was gay, would immediately decide that I was some sort of enemy and declare war. If they couldn't beat my ass (that was always the first choice), harassment was next. Then causing whatever trouble that they could think of to cause for me. The really nasty ones were always behind my back. Some I didn't even know by name. They just decided that I was there for them to hate and they were obliged to mess with me in any way they could. The fifth reaction was trying to save my soul. Some of the same people that were tormenting me were trying to save my soul. Don't you know that you make Jesus sad? For a while I listened to them but it was obvious that they didn't have the first clue about what they were talking about. To them homosexuality was like a nasty hobby. If I just decide to give it up that everything would be groovy and Jesus wouldn't be sad anymore. It didn't take long for it to get on my nerves. Of course I was Satan's own spawn when I politely asked them to give it a rest and then I was obviously possessed when I told them in explicit detail where to stuff their bible. The sixth reaction was exile. There was no place for me in polite society. The nice cliques of kids in middle and high school: I didn't fit in any of them. They didn't want me and I didn't want them. The only people I could really connect with were fellow outcasts. Gay- not so much. Back them people were so far in the closets they were finding Christmas presents for future generation. The other outcasts were druggies, thugs, and other assorted petty criminals. Others were poor kids from single parent households. Kids with divorced parents that were "disturbed". Kids whose parents were junkies and lived with their grandparents. It might sound corny but we were no shit Outsiders (to borrow a phrase from Hinton). Anyway... It's late and I had been meaning to answer this thread. The information is dated of course. The country isn't like this anymore thank God. Or at least, I hope it isn't.