Final

The continuation of Drew's story in the middle of strife and confusion. The following Chapter 4 is set years after Drew's deployment to Ukraine. The rockets, drones and missiles have stopped flying. It is time to rebuild...with the worlds help. This story is not intended to be in a hurry. There is no political swing in the story. If you are looking for quick sex, please look elsewhere. All the following, people, places, and things are a figment of my twisted mind.

My apologies for my tardiness in this final chapter. My muse has been very absent, and I got myself in a motorcycle accident (self-caused, old age should have taught me I am NOT Steve McQeen, oh go look him up) therefore I had to buck up and pull my head out of my ass. Again, my apologies.

Being a non-writer and now blind in my right eye (see above) has made some interesting challenges with the stories. I DO NOT plan the story, it is like one of my sculptures, it tells me where it wants to go. I spend my life building big buildings and everything is planned. Here in my little world, I let life flow.

I use my head and MS Word editor. I am grateful for the technology and that is as far as I am going to go. My muse used to be my editor, but...

*

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Drew stated aloud as he stomped in the front door and tried to clear the muck from his boots. It is not like he had not tried as he entered the building nor as he stomped up the stairs. The crap just seemed to sit, in, and around, the soles of his winter boots.

He reached the mid landing on the stairs and had to take a second to breathe. He had to admit to himself that he was feeling more of his age.

'Too damn old' he said to himself as the sound reverberated in the brick lined stairwell.

He took one more deep breath and while doing a bit of old man groaning, made it to the second floor and out into the vestibule he had built. With the growth of the Crew and the expansion across the hallway, he had incorporated part of the hallways as part of the expanded mega suite.

With the original 'hallway' being three meters wide in its original factory configuration, this became more an entry meeting room for guests. But the room could double as a formal dining room, reception room and party room with shifting of furniture.

He had constructed a vestibule at the rear stairs for security purposes with American made coded door locks and security cameras. Tatyana had turned out to be an innovator of security systems and seemed to have an innate sense of camera placement and concealment.

He tried not to groan as he entered the door, hearing babies fussing in the 'South' wing. He had made up a designation just so he could reference where the ladies of his house were. The 'North wing' was his original enormous apartment, now the entry hall and the 'south wing' held the living quarters of the expanding Crew.

He had been in the Polish office of his international corporation for three days and had just made it back 'home.'

"Home," he said aloud, more of a whisper.

Said just to himself.

He smiled inside and out and shook his head. His 2-year deployment was now 4 years running.

He had come from the US for one last adventure, to leave a mark on his career that would leave his mark on history. Not that anyone would know it or remember his name, but something he could be very proud of.

But life had its own quirks. Drew knew his life had been a series of quantum shifts. Some had followed him through life, the loss of his first true love. Some had shifted his focus on life, the loss of his father. Some had, in retrospect, been better for him, divorcing his wife. He had always ridden them out, good or bad, and dealt with the aftermath.

And here he was, across the globe from where he used to call home. Was here, in this far distant land, with these beautiful creatures, where he was supposed to be?

Was he now home?

***

Yulia and Drew had spent three days discussing Mariupol and arguing again for a dual solution to the flattened city. Many that sat on seats upon high, wanted manufacturing brought back as the highest importance.

It had to be pointed out time and time again that without the people, there was no manufacturing. He had banged heads many, many, times with some stuffed shirts that wanted to play games and stick people in tents as they tried to brave the winter.

'Fuck that!' thought Drew.

*

Yulia stood in the open plaza in front of the administration building. Her pink knit cap tight over her head and ears. Her hardhat was fastened down over the cap, twisted tight to help with the wind uplift. She stood outside looking at the plastic barrier being sealed around the scaffolding that encompassed her project.

She was dressed in American construction wear, and she really could not complain. Her safety vest, more symbolic than practical, draped over her warm long winter coat. The name Carhartt at first seemed strange. And the cut of the jacket seemed too long and off for her slight frame. But with Drew's help and the help of the other women, they found all the ways it could be adjusted. The jacket was of canvas material and downright almost indestructible.

Her only negative comment was having to wash and commercially dry the jacket thirty-five times to get outer shell fabric to release and be comfortable.

A lot had changed in the past 4 years, she murmured to herself. While Drew was the figurehead of their merry band of construction professionals, she had taken over many of his duties. She quietly wondered if he would ever leave or if he was in their lives forever.

She smiled thinking of his first meeting with her and his handling of the street thugs. Or his friendship with all the woman in his life. He had become the sage older uncle for her.

"Or" she thought to herself with a pensive quirk to her mouth, "A father figure worth listening too."

She took a second to scold a worker installing the first level of barricades. Once straightened out, she went back into her office and started the layer removal process. It seemed funny to her that she now kept her project site office slightly colder than she would have, another Drew-ism. That way she only removed her jacket, gloves, hard hat, and scarf. She stayed in her outer sweater that overlayed her turtleneck.

Drew had been teaching them subtle 'tricks' that made for quick and easy trips to the field. She was grateful. It was several subtle tricks that brought a certain acceptance of her authority. His deferment to her in meetings was magical for being able to close open issues.

She and he had long discussions regarding the problems females would have in the construction industry as Ukraine. Those same discussions continued to come back to life after so much destruction and death. He gave her examples of his own country and the problems women had there in the same position.

"Life has never been, and is not now...easy," he would quote from a long past 'old-timer'.

She smiled. She was working Saturday to get this building underway. A 100-apartment building on the outskirts of Mariupol. It would be the first of several housing projects for management and workers for the plant.

But with all the hours expended and the stresses of rebuilding a country, nerves sometime frayed.

She was at first shocked how Drew had cut her off as she tried to argue with the Minister of Economic Development and Trade. Drew had always deferred to her in these meetings. It allowed her to build her credibility. She would never be used to sitting and talking in front of the President of her country, but she did it monthly.

But Drew had cut her off when the Minister sneered and scoffed at her concerns over logistics and worker housing. Yulia knew the storm that Drew had been holding back, and Drew lashed out.

"You first," Drew had commented openly while looking down, the long table at the Minister. Yulia had caught the shift on the president's face but then it settled back into one of calm.

"In fact, tell you what, since you feel that the 'workers' should brave the cold in tents for the good of Ukraine, let us do it! You and I will share a tent. That way we can collaborate with all the different ongoing projects we have now kicked off."

Drew paused, smiling at the minister as his mouth hung open.

"Come on, lets bunk together and you can see how the sacrifice of the workers plays out." Drew ended with a tone of voice that was not polite and needed no translation.

"I have more important duties than sitting in a tent listening to your pontifications. I have a country to rebuild!" The Minister scoffed.

Drew just started to chuckle and then laugh. He finally settled down and took and deep breath and let out a sigh. It was not even done for theatrical purposes, just him trying to get his anger under control.

"So, you're doing that all on your own, are you?" Drew squinted at the minister hoping the translation would be right. Drew saw the flicker of anger and then continued.

"There are or will be millions of Ukrainians working the effort to put this country back together. Please refrain from volunteering the future steel workers, construction folks etc. to work in unsafe conditions unless you are willing to stand shoulder to shoulder with them."

And then Drew crossed the line.

She was aghast at what he said to the Minister next.

"If you want to play with Stalinist practices, go across the border and swear allegiance to Mother Russia."

And the boardroom erupted. Drew pulled his earpiece out because he did not care what anyone said in response. Well, he did care about the opinion of the man at the head of the table, President Z.

They looked into each other's eyes, and that quirky smile of Pres. Z showed through. Drew reached for and reinserted his earpiece as Z stated a word to settle the room. A word he said, slowly and quietly.

"Enough" finally everyone settled back in but there was a subtle shift and many now looked to cooperation and not grandstanding.

She watched after the meeting, as two factions gathered around their lead people, both on opposite sides of the room. President Z floated back and forth massaging fragile egos and hurt feelings.

She saw him lightly pull Drew aside and whisper in his ear. Drew just somberly nodded, and the President was off to tend to other affairs of state.

As they gathered their things Yulia turned to Drew and asked, "What did the President say to you?"

"That I had made an enemy for life." And with that answer Drew grabbed his bag and headed for the exit.

Yulia agreed with the Presidents assessment and followed his quiet exit.

***

Drew planted himself on the entry bench. He had introduced the concept he had been introduced to when he moved as a young man in California to the east coast...a 'parsons' bench'.

Drew had taken time to play woodworker and cannibalize broken furniture, an old sash window, coat hooks and trash wood removed from the Museum. He worked it into a piece he considered art. While utilitarian It was very well built, and he was at that moment using it to its full purpose.

He had hung his coat next to the more stylish coats of his sexy partners and housemates. A separate series of hooks held the miniaturized coats of the youngest members of the house. His boots went on the same rubber mats that held multicolored mixture of winter boots of those same members.

He heard a rise in voices and movement from the adjacent spaces. He knew he had been discovered, damn security cameras.

He heard excited discussions in female Ukrainian and then the rush of tiny feet.

He knew what was coming next...the 'Hord.'

He dropped his bags and slid them under the bench. He slid off the bench and knelt on one knee as the first of the horde spun around the large opening to the South wing. Alexander led the charge as the oldest and de facto leader of the hoard. He came and hugged Drew and bowed his head to receive a kiss to his forehead.

There was a sharp rebuke in female Ukrainian and Alex's eyes drooped, and he got a quirky smile. No matter the language there is always a true understanding when someone is being told off by their mother. His eyes rolled as he heard the high-pitched squeals of his little sister.

Antonia came around the door portal frame slowly walking with a cute two and half year old. Their daughter and half-sister with Alex. The female munchkin wanted none of this slow walking stuff and bolted into his outstretched arms as soon as her mother loosened her grip. She immediately launched into multilingual explanation of all the things she had been up to while he was gone.

Translating two 1/2 years old was bad enough, but when the child is quickly flowing between English, Ukrainian and some African phrases, Drew just smiled and enjoyed her enthusiasm. She was the athletic child of the group and had torn kneed jeans to prove it.

"Micha" He heard from the doorway as Antonia tried to play the authoritarian while trying to hide a smile at the same time.

He motioned Antonia over to give her a kiss, but she just held her place and looked behind her. There was another sprite that careened around her and slammed into the still kneeling Drew at top speed.

The sprite was covered in a princess outfit with a tiny tiara. She squealed as she rounded the corner screaming "papa, papa, papa" the whole way into his arms. The fairy princess also started to spin tales in multiple languages.

"Kat, I have only been gone a few days. Give me a second and you and your sister can come catch me up on all important matters," Drew told his daughter Katerina as he looked past Antonia as Darya came into view.

She looked huge. Drew could swear she had doubled in size, and he had only been gone for four days total. He had made the mistake of saying she was

'waddling'

during her first pregnancy with Katerina. Once his stupid comment had been translated, Drews life had turned ugly. He had suffered for days from the blowback from every female in his life.

She now carried fraternal twins, two children on her tall thin frame and looked like she swallowed a beach ball.

He walked over and Antonia turned slightly informally letting him know to kiss Darya first. He closed with Darya but let his left-hand brush along Antonia's hip to let her know his thoughts were with her too.

He looked deeply in Darya's eyes, and she bent her head slowly so they could kiss. The kiss was soft and welcoming.

"I need you tonight." She whispered. Both of their hands met on her extended belly. Her right hand had sneaked out and was now holding Antonia's hand.

*

Getting a hoard to settle down and get ready for bed was always an arduous task, but with travel gifts dispersed and played with, it was easily an hour past bedtime when things became quiet. Drew was always amazed at how he could sit and know where his tribe was in the two massive apartments, now joined to be one.

Drew was ensconced in his mezzanine living room waiting on the arrival of Darya. He heard movement at the base of the circular stair. The industrial reuse of the old factory made for interesting acoustics. Brick and masonry walls. Old style cast steel trusses to hold the floors and roof. Not much in terms of design for acoustics.

The red hair of Antonia peaked above the mezzanine landing. While not a natural redhead the light copper ringlets of her hair gave her a very exotic quality here in the suburbs of Kyiv. Drew had to admit that the choice was stellar. Her natural pale skin and the new look of curled red copper hair had made for two days of intense love making.

While he did have a penchant towards brunette because of the first true love in the US, the red was beyond the pale, and she owned it.

The only 'negative' aspect of those sex filled days was when he commented about the carpet not matching the drapes. Most of his lovers had chosen to avoid the de-nude'ing of their pudenda once everyone was settled in their co-joined relationship. Drew could only surmise that it was agreed to in a joint female meeting without his input.

Not that he would have objected. He had already weathered the wrath of all the adult females of the house with the term 'waddling' and one other more ominous alliteration. Antonia and Darya had somehow decided together to let the hair between their legs go 'free range'.

He knew that he had no say in the lack of lady-scaping. With the pregnancy of Darya gaining speed, she of course stopped the ritual shaving or waxing. He was just surprised that Antonia and Sasha had also joined in the practice.

His first stupid comment (out of a line of many) was about gaining fur for the future winter months. The comment was tolerated with some minor tittering. His wholesale stupidity came when he had one too many glasses of wine and Antonia had returned from two weeks in Poland setting up international financing for added clinics.

She had rushed to put away her gear, throw her travel clothes in the clothes washer and take a shower. She returned to the communal area with a towel around her head, one of his T-shirts stretched over her magnificent breasts, her huge nipples leading the way, and a towel around her waist.

As was normal in a European female household, nudity was tolerated and not something to be ashamed of like in the US. While Drew had given her a kiss at arrival, she sashayed over in her normal sexy way. His hand had drifted down and through the edges of the towel. What he encountered was a soft field of long curly pubic hair more like a thick pelt than what he was used to.

He made what he thought was a 'funny' regarding her thick curly growth of nether hair,

'Sasquatch.

' Once the google search was completed by his mates, he had all the females in the house smacking him on the shoulder and using Ukrainian at a higher-than-average speed.

The little ones even joined in a bonding moment with their mothers, not knowing what the problem was, only that Papa had been naughty.

Alexander was at an age where he knew he did not want to be involved. Both male eyes met, and Drew looked to the mezzanine and nodded his head. Alexander vanished to the back stairs and went aloft.

It took two weeks to get out of the doghouse with his lovers. That took a lot of cooking special meals, flowers, gifts, and promises to be good.

Yeti/Sasquatch shirts were procured somewhere (think Amazon) and were worn braless by his lovers to remind him of his stupidity.

*

Antonia's head cleared the mezzanine landing. She was draped in a light red robe he had bought while he was in Poland. She looked sexy as hell and her large breasts and huge, thick, stiff, nipples swayed under the robe as she undulated up the circular step and across the short landing.

He knew not to compare, but the look in her lust filled eyes, the curves of her body and the sensuality she exuded took him back to being twenty years old again and in love for the first time.

There at the landing she paused and looked back down the stairs.

Darya finally, slowly, made her way up the stairs. She was wearing the purple robe he had also procured. He had bought one for each, in their favorite color. He went over and took her hand to help her take the last few steps. They kissed on the landing with one of Drews hands around Darya and one intertwined in Antonia's.

He led Darya around the false wall and to the bed, Antonia followed closely.

They kissed softly, standing side by side at the edge of the bed. Drew tried to pull Antonia into a three-way kiss so she would not feel slighted by the two lovers.

Dre felt a huge bump on his stomach as Darya's rotund belly moved and shifted on its own. A soft string of Ukrainian swear words came out Darya and she wrapped her hands around her own belly.