After the officer had quietly lowered the phone, having been given a tongue lashing by none other than Jill Valentine, Chris kept his stern gaze upon the face of the cop, reaching in his jacket pocket for a dented pack of Marlboro cigarettes. Never taking his gaze away, he was in the dominating mood, and this little fucker was just the beginning. Sniffing once before plucking a cigarette out and placing it betwixt his lips, he dug into the pockets of his jeans, retrieving a zippo lighter. Of course, no one was allowed to light up a cigarette indoors, but the cop no longer had the guff to even attempt to reprimand the muscular captain. Inhaling deeply, he reached up to pluck the cigarette from his lips to blow it in the cop's direction. "The next time you waste Supervisor Valentine's time? I'll be the one talking, and pigs don't seem to like when my fists talk." Slowly lifting the cigarette back to his lips, he turned on the heel of his hunter green combat boot, beginning the long walk back to his room. Jill Valentine had been the only person in the world that knew him best, that could say the right things to calm him down when his dangerous temper took hold. In another time, another place, she might have made him a perfect wife, but this sure as hell wasn't that perfect world. Disciplinary action would be taken against the three stooges that nearly created an angry mob due to their inexcusable behavior.

Piers immediately came to mind as his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets, the kid was too cocksure. In his own youth, Chris never felt the need to prove himself to others, he let his actions do the talking, and if his superiors disagreed with his sense of morality and duty? Tough shit. It was the undoubtedly the reason he was discharged from the U.S. Air Force, despite his stellar performance in the field. Piers would learn, in time, that to be a leader, you had to pick your fights. He had the makings of a great leader, even though no one else could see it yet. Prominent brows furrowed as the image of Andy humping that bare ass in the bar lingered in his mind, and to make it worse, Piers was enjoying it. Narrowing his eyes at the thought of that, he knew that Piers had been under the influence, in fact, he watched every shot that was given to him. Piers would need to learn how to avoid being provoked so easily, before something bad happened. No alcohol for that kid ever again. He'd lost it completely climbing into Andy's lap like that. It began to drizzle from the sky, and he paused to lift his rugged countenance, closing his eyes as the moisture was felt against his face. Smoke still rose from the cigarette, now half smoked, between his lips as he strode quietly down the row of doors, turning his head for a moment as the slightest sound reached his keen ears. Waiting for a moment, it was silent again as he tilted his head quietly, making way towards his front door before the sound came again, this time, a bit louder, it was the sound of a young man sobbing, and it came from his goddamn room. Quickly digging for his key within pockets, he unlocked the deadbolt and stood beside the door in silence. As quietly as he could, he reached his hand to turn the handle, opening the door inward just slightly before he quickly stood before the door, lifting a leg to boot the door open. It sounded like thunder, and he stepped forward as his hard gaze quickly registered what was happening.

"Ugh! ... Fuck Mar', you believe this? We're makin' the fuckin' 'chosen one' cry like a bitch! Let's hear it, you overachieving little shit, you love my meat between those plump cheeks. Fuckin' say it!" As Andy spoke, Piers' eyes rolled in the back of his head at the feeling of dual dicks stretching his puckered orifice. His head tilted back by the forceful hand of Andy, his own hands twitched, clenching and unclenching as the muffled sounds he made were no longer the thick moans from earlier when his prostate had been rubbed not only by fingers, but by Marco's dick hammering against it with hot, throbbing flesh. His sounds now were pathetic, trembling grunts followed by gurgling as the corners of his mouth were wet, his saliva moistening Andy's fingers. Andy laughed with genuine delight as he began stuffing himself even deeper, his own mouth opening as he began to feel a knot in his lower stomach and loins, the inside of Piers' bowels squeezing down and hugging the two cocks in a humiliating attempt to welcome the invading cocks. "Ah.. that's it.. that's it. Mar', mmmm..you ready? I'm about to blow a thick load right up the boy wonder's a-." It was then that the door had been kicked open, and both Andy and Marco turned their heads with deer-in-headlights expressions to look upon the sight of their captain looking at them. Andy blinked rapidly as his cock felt as if it suddenly grew 2 sizes smaller, clearing his throat under his breath as he moved to pull away from Piers, Marco already fiddling with his pants, though it would be hopeless for either men to hide their rock-hard erections. "Cap.. uh, Marco, Piers and I.. we were all just fuckin' around, you know? Blown' off some steam after the bar.. that's all."

Chris was silent as death, staring at the three men as Piers crying out as they finally released him, struggled to catch his breath and collapsed to the side. Placing a burly hand against the open door, he slammed it shut behind him, locking the deadbolt with the same hand. Now they were all trapped in a China shop, and he was the bull. Maintaining his composure, his expression was deadpan as he blew a cloud of smoke from the corner of his lips, ash from the cigarette falling to the floor in front of him. Who gave a shit about smoking inside now? Colossal shoulders rotated backwards in a smooth motion as the dark leather jacket he wore slid off his impressive upper-frame. After discarding the jacket, a tight, emerald-hued undershirt fitted against his sculpted pectorals and washboard abdomen. This was sick, it was wrong, and it was the last straw. For too long, he witnessed horrors committed against men and women he cared for, and it hardened him not just as a soldier, but as a man. To see men he fought alongside taking advantage of a young man he took under his wing, it brought a shadow to his already stern gaze, and the tone of his voice was absolutely dangerous. "You want to know what sick fun really is, boys? Daddy knows best."

Reaching up with a muscular arm, the bruise upon his forearm apparent, he plucked the near-spent cigarette from his lips and stepped towards Marco, who immediately lifted his arms in self-defense mode. Chris had specifically given Marco the responsibility of ensuring Piers' safety to his room, and instead he took Piers' innocence. Those two knew how to ruin everything, take something good like Piers Nivans and get him knock down drunk and steal everything that was meant for him. An animal instinct took over that demanded something of himself, he wasn't just going to punish these men for having sex with Piers, he was going to make them wish they never took what rightfully belonged to him. Marco's actions were obviously reluctant, but he swung a right hook that collided with Chris' rock of a chin, barely causing his head to turn. Marco cursed at the dull, throbbing pain in his fingers, and Chris took advantage of the distraction, grabbing the back of Marco's head, he drove his knee hard enough into Marco's gullet to bend him over his knee, gulping for breath. The man took harder from Albert Wesker and remained steadfast, Marco would have been better off just pointing his finger to Andy rather than taking the swing. Chris kept a powerful hand on the back of his neck to keep him bent over and reached down to yank down the back of his pants, Marco's own bare ass exposed. "Don't you like playing, Marco? I'll tell you what, I'll give HQ a call, send you to the center of Afghanistan. I'll pay your old lady a visit, show her the difference between your pencil dick and my piece of meat." Marco finally began to catch his breath as he shook his head and gasped to apologize in any way he could, right up until he felt the burning end of a cigarette shoved into the sensitive flesh right between his anus and his balls. Chris clasped his other hand firmly over Marco's mouth as he screamed, and he did scream. Chris ground the burning cigarette into the flesh just under Marco's scrotum before allowing the smoking butt of the cigarette to fall to the floor. Marco soon collapsed into a ball, wailing in pain.

"I'm only going to say it once, Marco. Give me your belt, or the first kid you ever raise will be courtesy of me having your wife with her face in the pillow on your bed. Your choice." Andy could only watch what the captain did to Marco with a wary expression, his gaze flickering to from the captain to the door. Piers was still trying to recover from the assault of two throbbing cocks being stuffed up his virgin ass, laying on his side, his watery eyes lifted to look upon the captain as he lifted a hand to wipe his eyes. Chris hadn't even looked upon Marco when he made the demand and threat, his eyes targeting Andy. This was not what the soldiers had expected, their captain was never cruel, he was stern, but never cruel. If only they could understand the depth of their mistake. Marco's hands shook violently as he reached down to his pants that were now around his thighs, undoing the leather belt and pulling it out from the loops of his pants. Not daring look up at the captain, Marco submitted and lifted the belt, which was snatched from his hand. In a gesture to rub salt in the wound and cause further pain, Chris moved his thick calf backwards until his heel was lifted back in the air, before his leg was thrust forward, the toe of his thick boot smashing against the exposed cock and balls of Marco. Marco could only yelp before curling into a fetal position. Chris kept his attention to Andy as he folded the belt, his hands taking each end, snapping the leather straps together loudly, and continuously. Piers flinched with each snap the belt made.

Andy forced an uncertain grin as he lifted his hands up into the air before he slowly stepped to the side, inadvertently moving closer to Piers. It was a bad idea. "That's what I'm talkin' about, Chris.. you showed him what for, right? Come on, captain.. Piers asked for it, you saw him at the bar.. he wanted a piece of me all night, I just gave him what he wanted." Andy continued to take steps to the side, attempting to move towards the door while he did. Chris methodically took a few steps forward, holding the folded leather belt in one hand as he looked down at Andy with an icy gaze. "I don't even like sick games, I mean.. come on, we're both grown men, right? Why don't we go let some steam off by cracking jokes about Agent Valentine's mangled cleavage? Who'd ever go for-" Chris hunched down with a burst of speed, wrapping his arms around the waist of Andy and lifting him clean off the ground while over his shoulder. Andy attempted to throw down a few elbows into the shoulder blades of Chris, but it was useless. Chris ran forward like a rhinoceros with Andy in his arms, and smashed head-on into the nearest wall in a collision that caused a crack in the wall. Andy struggled still by attempting to bring his knees forward into Chris' barrel chest, but he was slammed into the wall again, and again. Eventually, Andy was practically through the wall, and he slumped back against the crater his own body created, clutching his ribs with a hacking cough. Chris' face was red, and he wasn't done with Andy, not by a long shot. Andy had violated Piers, which.. which was wrong, that innocence was his, and he insulted Jill. Andy was going to the hospital, there was no debating this any more. As Chris stood before the slumped Andy, he reached down and gripped him by the throat with a brawny hand, forcing him to stand wobbly. Chris then got into combat stance, and began working the beaten body of Andy by throwing left hooks, right hooks. Each time his fist collided with the abdomen of Andy, there was the fleshy 'thud' of his knuckles against flesh and muscle, and he began throwing those hooks more rapidly, until Andy struggled to lift a hand in submission.

Chris' broad shoulders and pectorals heaved as he stopped. On any given day, he could have worked a punching bag for hours, but he wasn't going to knock Andy out, he made sure to hold his punches back enough to ensure that, fracture a rib and knock his diaphragm into uselessness perhaps, but not out cold. His boys could take a beating. Wrapping his powerful arm around Andy's head, his impossibly thick biceps pressed hard against the side of Andy's neck. Chris shoved him and bent him over the bed towards the foot of the bed, facing the bed frame. Turning to snatch up the belt that Marco had given him, he pressed his body against the backside of Andy's to keep him still, moving his arms and tying them firmly against the bottom bed frame with the leather belt. Chris growled into his ear: "This is how it's going to work. You're going to beg for my cock, because you're nothing but a comedic whore. That's how you like it right Andy? Mouthy little play by plays help you get it up?" Turning on the heel of his boot, Chris reached up to brush off his shoulder, just a bit sore from having gored Andy into the wall. Reaching down, he gripped Marco by the shirt, dragging him silently to the back of Andy's legs. "You're going to hold his legs in place so he doesn't move, Marco, that's how this works right? The team that takes advantage together gets punished together. If you let go, you get another turn." Marco still huddled in a ball, but he reached up to claw at Andy's calves until he reached the knees, hugging them tightly so they couldn't move. Chris then reached up and gripped Andy's pants by the waistline, yanking them down until they were below his bare ass, down to the back of his thighs. Andy was now bonded to the bed and bent over with his ass presented to the world.

Finally, Chris turned his attention to Piers. Chris would not hide the look of betrayal upon his face as he took a few steps towards him, placing a hand down upon his shoulder until Piers slid down upon his knees, Piers face looked up at the captain's crotch before looking at the captain. "You. I trusted you. I-.." Chris trailed off as his eyes softened for a moment. He never wanted this, but Piers gave himself to them, the looks he had given Chris now meant nothing. "Take my belt off. You were supposed to be better than this, and now? I have to do this." Piers had regained a bit of himself, although his ass felt as if it had been torn open, and he had one hell of a headache, but he met Chris' eyes with a look, but Chris wouldn't have it. Slowly, he reached up and slowly unbuckled Chris' belt, his face close to the warmth of the crotch. Without thinking, Piers leaned forward to press his face against the bulge in Chris' jeans while he carefully slit the studded belt through the loops, sighing quietly to himself until the belt was removed, wanting to stay in that moment. Chris abruptly turned away so that Piers nearly fell over where he knelt. Standing behind Andy as Marco clung to the legs, he folded his leather, studded belt, looking down at Andy's ass for a moment before he suddenly rose his arm, bringing the belt down so hard across the ass that Andy let out a scream, a red mark slashed across the cheek of his ass. Chris then brought the belt down upon the other cheek, spanking him harshly with it. Piers turned his head and swallowed dryly as his captain viciously whipped Andy with the belt. Eventually, Andy's entire ass was red and beaten, a few trickles of blood moving down his thighs. As if a trophy, Chris slid his belt back on, even with part of it being crimson, he clasped it in front of him. Carnage filled the room, both Andy and Marco each moaning in pain at their injuries.

Chris methodically approached Piers snatching up his disregarded pants, lifting him up from the ground gently. Wrapping an arm around his waist, he pulled him into the bathroom and shut the door, pressing Piers' back against the wall. No one needed to see this. Slipping down on one knee, he helped the younger man back into his pants, one hand on his thick broad shoulder to steady him while Chris gave a jerk to pull them up over his abused waist, his fingers working numbly to zip and button them in silence. Chris pressed his forehead against Piers, his dark brows furrowed, his face a grimace. "You gave yourself to them.. you just gave it to them." Chris sighed heavily as he turned to sit upon the toilet seat, his muscled forearms resting upon his knees. Piers moved carefully, ignoring the stabbing pain in his ass as he very slowly nudged Chris' arm out of the way, sitting down upon Chris' lap, an arm moving around the back of his neck. Piers pressed his boyish countenance against the scruffy side of Chris' face, but what was there to say? Piers had been under the influence, but it was his own arrogance of not backing down from any challenge that allowed him to take part in what happened. And it was evident the mix of confusion and missed signals were finally starting to him, the younger man swallowing back a hoarse apology. Chris stared straight forward, unblinking. Although it was nearly impossible to ignore Piers' scent, he even tilted his head towards the younger man's breathing it was silence for a minute, Chris letting himself take in what of this he could, slipping that thick muscled bicep around the man in his lap, tipping his head up to be caught by soft abused lips. They still tasted like bourbon and whiskey, saliva clinging to the corners of his mouth, but Chris didn't care, clutching the back of Piers' head to them together while he crushed his disappointment into the kiss, all the heat in his body flooding to his groin every time Piers would let out a shaky breath, actual blush coming to his face as their lips locked. It was tentatively uncertain at first, the sniper pulling back just the slightest to reaffirm it was really what he'd thought it had been and not just plain disappointment for his actions, but that Chris had actually been outraged to lose something that he considered his own. Immediately Chris' lips were on him, squeezing the back of his head with a large hand to tip his head to the side, swallowing his fury with those pillowy lips on his own.

Without thinking, in the haze of everything that had happened Piers wanted to make up for what happened, and so he slid down from the lap slowly, out of his captain's hands. Moving onto his knees in front of Chris, hands poised on his thighs, the captain couldn't help but reach forward, dragging his thumb over bitten and swollen lips. Those expressive eyes peered up at Chris as he moved his hands to undo the bloodied belt and jeans, reaching down to grip the thick, impressive girth of Chris' dick. Chris slowly moved backwards and leaned back while he sat, looking down upon Piers, who planted soft kisses across his crotch before his skillful digits lifted Chris' cock to his face, pursing his pouted lips to give the tip of his cock a kiss, which brought a sigh from the captain's lips. Kid was intoxicating on his own, Chris didn't need the whiskey in his own system to momentarily forget everything that had happened. Piers slowly opened his mouth, leaning forward to take the captain's cock within his mouth and moved forward as he hungrily began taking inch by inch past his lips. Piers didn't need alcohol or restraints with Chris, his eyes were locked on him apologetically even through his haze. Moving his warm, moist tongue against the underside of the thick cock, his boyish cheeks sucked inward each time he moved his head back, bobbing his head slowly. Chris gave a guttural groan as he leaned back, watching as the sniper's head bobbed in his lap, clenching a fist in pleasure, before suddenly the fist moved like a viper, smashing into the right eye of Piers' and immediately knocking him out, Piers' mouth slipping off the cock as his head snapped back, crumbling to the floor in front of his captain. "Next time, you ask for permission while you're sober, 'golden boy'."

Standing up from the seat of the toilet, he quickly zipped up and buttoned his pants groaning over the half stock he'd got from Piers little side show, stepping out of the bathroom and stepping past the two ravaged men who leaned against the bed, trying to recover from their wounds. Piers had evidently been passed the point of conceiving anything he had said, drunkenness and pain, mixed with regret and who knew what. Yes it was what he wanted, to see the younger man on his knees apologizing for giving up what was rightfully his to these jokers, but not like that. Honestly part of him hoped the kid didn't remember any of it. How eagerly he'd dropped to his knees like it was second nature to apologize with someone's cock in your mouth... He knew Piers though, knew him well enough to know everything about tonight was the drinks. He'd give Andy and Marco his own beat down tomorrow after his head stopped ringing from Chris' fist. Then he'd see about teaching Piers proper discipline... Chris reached into his leather jacket, snatching up his cigarettes and his cell phone, plucking out a cigarette and placing it between his lips, flipping his lighter open to light it as he pressed a single number on his cell phone, inhaling a deep breath from the cigarette before blowing out a stream of smoke. "Jill. I'm gonna need a clean-up crew and medics, the boys partied like a hurricane in my room and blew off steam after the bar incident. Andy actually busted up the wall a bit, the nerve of that guy. Yeah, I'll report in soon. Take care."

Even after having written the last two chapters I have decided that this is the end. I like a good ending. And the other chapters wouldn't have appeased me. SO! I appreciate all the love on this fic and I'm glad you guys liked it as much as you did! I appreciate the reviews so much, and continue to enjoy them. Maybe if this continues to get well wishes I'll do another Alpha Team story! Thanks for understanding guys!