Chapter 9

Proving Myself!

I was sworn into The United States Army, and immediately assigned to the Counter Intelligence department, of the CIA. My unique abilities are classified, and I would be assigned to different departments of the government over my tenure. Unlike what I had anticipated, I was given a civilian car, and an apartment, located fifteen miles from CIA headquarters. A marine sergeant, who was assigned to me as a bodyguard while I was not on government property, drove me there. We were to share the apartment and as not to seem conspicuous, he wore civilian clothes.

After entering the apartment, I looked around, finding the closet and drawers in my room full of clothes. Most of these were suits, with white shirts, and black socks.

"Where are you from, Sergeant Max?" I asked, walking back into the den.

I knew everything about him, but I couldn't let him know that.

"Philadelphia, sir!" he said, almost standing at attention.

"Loosen up! Call me Jay, and I'll call you Max. I don't think we should be that formal, seeing as we'll be living together, do you."

"Not really, but I still have a job to do."

"I bet your wondering what the hell your doing, 'protecting' a seventeen year old Captain. How old are you, twenty four?"

"Twenty three, and I had thought about it," he replied.

"Well, I speak a few languages. I guess the CIA thinks that is pretty important to them," I explained, not giving any secrets away.

"What kind of languages, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Let's put it this way. I would feel comfortable, living in any country in the world." I said, in a joking manner.

He looked at me with curiosity, wondering if I was joking. I knew he didn't really believe it, but it didn't matter.

We sat around the apartment for a while, and watched television, getting bored. At about 7:30 p.m., I went out on the patio. I sat, watching the neighborhood, and the people coming home from work. We were on the ground floor and above our apartment, were two additional floors.

Most people had just arrived home, from their jobs. The apartments were so close to the CIA headquarters, I knew most of the residents probably worked there. I just sat, relaxed, in the lawn chair; and probed minds, as the different people walked by, or entered the building. I was right. Most did work at the CIA building.

Max came out and sat with me, as we watched the parking lot fill almost to capacity. I spotted a beautiful girl pulling in one of the slots, and watched her get out of her car. She stepped up on the sidewalk and turned our way. We smiled at one another as she walked by.

"Hi!" she said, continuing to walk.

"Hello!" I replied.

"Damn. I think I'm going to like it here," Max stated.

"Nice. Very nice," I said in response to him.

She was very beautiful, with long dark brown hair and at nineteen years old, she was going to college at night; but off, for the summer. I knew (from seeing into her mind) that she would be coming by again, after changing clothes. She was intending to go play tennis, on the court in the apartment complex. She also was thinking of a way to start a conversation, when she walked by, again. She worked as a secretary, in personnel. Out of the few people I saw driving into the parking lot, she was the one who had a list of names in her head that could possibly lead me to the department (and the person) that I may find use for, in the future.

We continued talking and looking around the complex; when a few minutes later, she walked around from the stairwell, staring at me as she walked along the sidewalk.

"Tennis, anyone?" I teased, as she smiled at me.

She stopped when I spoke.

"You must have just moved in?"

"Yes, today," I replied.

"Do you play tennis?" she asked.

"Yes, but it's been awhile."

"Well come on, maybe you could get back into the game."

"I have a better idea. Have you eaten dinner?" I asked.

"No. Why?"

"Do you want to go get a burger?" I said. She paused, looking at her racket, straightening the strings with her finger.

"Sure, but I'll have to go back up, and change," she answered, smiling while looking up at me.

"I stood up, stepped over the rail, and walked to her.

"I'm Jay Bolton."

"Catherine Donaldson," she replied, as we shook hands.

"Can you be ready in ten minutes? I'm hungry!" I asked, teasing.

"I'll be back in five." She replied, jokingly.

We (Max and I) watched her, as she walked away. She was wearing white tennis shorts, cut high, revealing the lower cheeks of her ass.

"It didn't take you long," Max stated, thinking I had one thing on my mind.

"We're going out for a hamburger. Nothing more," I replied.

He smiled, shaking his head.

"You know I'll have to go with you," he said, with a smile.

"That's fine."

When she returned, I introduced them.

"Catherine, this is Max. He's going with us, if you don't mind."

"Hi Max. No, I don't mind," she said.

I really had no feelings, or intentions, of having a relationship with her. I had all of her knowledge, but appearances are a part of the scheme of things. I knew that everything I did, from this point on; would be recorded into a dossier with the FBI, and CIA. I had to look (and appear) as a normal, healthy young male.

"Ready? Let's go!" I said, taking her hand.

It was as I said. We went and got a burger; and sat talking, for a while. Afterwards, we came back to the apartments, and said good night to one another. She went to her apartment, and we to ours. I showered, and looked around for something to read. I found nothing but old magazines Max had brought with him, to read. I went through them in a few minutes; and fell asleep, on the couch.

The following morning, Max drove me to CIA headquarters, to where the counterintelligence department was located. First, I was shown through the section, and introduced to the top staff. They knew little, compared to where all the real information originated. That was with the lower echelon, the researchers; whose minds where full of all the little details the officers deemed insignificant. You wouldn't think that would be the case; but searching their minds was a gold mine, compared to the brass. True, the hard information was with the top brass; but all the bits of loose information, floating around in the minds of the researchers, were three-dozen puzzles, waiting to be solved.

I was escorted into the briefing room, where Donald Raines (chief of Southeast Asia Operations) would brief me on my first assignment. With him, were: Harold Griffin, Operations coordinator; Steve Watford, Tactical Officer; and James Crown, Overseas Counter Intelligence Chief.

"Gentlemen, first I'd like to welcome Captain Bolton into our ranks. By the way, he's on loan to us, compliments of the Department of the Army, and the Pentagon. Captain, we received a memo instructing not to ask (or investigate) your aptitude, or any special skills you might encompass. They are considered classified, and/or, top secret. We are merely to assign you to a project, and reap any information you might recover for us. That being said; before each of you, is an operations book that contains a project that we have been working on, for over a year. The only thing lacking is someone to carry it out. Gentlemen; I understand that Captain Bolton, is our man.

"In the operations book; you will see that General Lieu (of the North Vietnamese Army) is the commanding general of all Military operations, in South Vietnam. Your assignment, Captain; is to attend peace negotiations in Hanoi, as an interpreter for Senators William Scott, Thornton Weaver, and the negotiating team, to attain all information available.

"Captain; you will brief yourself on the required information, listed in the operation book. If you can get us one third of the information requested, we would consider the operation a success. If you require any other information pertinent to this operation, you only need to ask of these other gentlemen." Donald Raines explained, waving towards the others.

I thought for a moment, and looked at James Crown.

"Mr. Crown. You received intelligence information that two battalions of the Third Corps, of the North Vietnamese Army, moved out from Hanoi on April 28th, nine days ago. Four days following, reports came in that the remaining two battalions were seen in a ready state. Does that not answer one of your questions?" I asked, knowing the answer, but at the same time giving a demonstration of my capabilities.

"May I ask how you obtained that information?" he asked.

Mr. Raines interjected, "No, you may not! However, you may answer his question."

"The information was sketchy. We wanted, and needed, confirmation," he answered.

"Agent Tom Hannon, code named "Catcher", your top field agent for two years; sends you information, and it's not considered confirmed?" I asked.

"The message was interrupted before its completion. We can't accept information, without the code-word to verify its authenticity."

"Has "Catcher" ever sent back information that wasn't confirmed?" I asked, with an arrogant tone in my voice.

"That's irrelevant. We don't act on information, without confirmation."

"I suggest you relocate your spy satellite, and find their location, before we lose men in battle," I stated, angry at his stupidity.

"Gentlemen! Mr. Crown, I think you would be advised to research this matter, more closely," Mr. Raines instructed.

James looked at me with resentment, and confusion; wondering how, and where, I had obtained this information. In his mind he also was thinking who he could get in touch with, to see my files. I laughed (to myself) that I was making him scratch his head. He wasn't use to anyone questioning him, and certainly not used to being made to look bad. He was the type to order someone killed, for trespassing. As I had looked into his mind, I saw some inconceivable acts he had committed, in the name of National Security. I didn't like him; and I am sure, now, he's not fond of me either.

"I have no questions of any of you, and I'm looking forward to this operation. Two days is ample time to prepare, and I'll be ready to leave on Friday morning at 0500 hrs. Is there anything any of you might want to ask, of me?" I asked knowing they all wanted to inquire, but were instructed not to.

"Captain. Good luck," Mr. Raines stated.

"Thank you, sir. Thank you, gentlemen," I said, turning and walking out.

With my security clearance, I was at liberty to roam the halls, unquestioned. I knew I was videotaped as I walked around; so I acted cordial, introducing myself to staff employees. Searching their minds for information was undetected by the cameras. When I had exhausted all resources, I left. Max was waiting for me, in the unsecured area, down the hall. Tomorrow, I was going to spend the day searching their computers.

"How did it go?" he asked.

"It was fun." I said, looking at him with a smile.

"You must have stepped on someone's toes," he stated, and I gave him another grin.

"Where to?" he asked.

"I'm going to take the rest of the day off. I'll have a full day tomorrow. Do you play tennis?"

"Na, never got into playing sports, but I like to watch football."

"Well, I miss playing sports, but I had to give them up for more important things."

"You mean like for the CIA?"

"Something along that line," I said, as we reached the car.

"Let's go to DC, I've always wanted to see the Lincoln Memorial, and the Washington Monument. You don't mind, do you?"

"It's fine with me, but I've seen them all," he said, but acted willing to see them again.

We drove to DC, taking in most of the sites. I had seen them from the minds of others, but there's nothing like seeing them personally. It gave me a sense of honor, and duty, thinking all of those who had given their lives, in sacrifice for this country. As we drove back, I felt a sense of pride. I think it was noticeable to him, in our discussions, as we talked about most of those who had founded this country. He, being a Marine Sergeant, also displayed a bit of pride. I didn't spoil our time together, by probing his mind.

The next day, I spent my first five hours browsing their mainframe, and came up with three of the many names I had been searching; Howard Stinson, a Nuclear Fusionist Professor, recruited from Cambridge University by the Complex, eighteen years ago; Bruce Becket, an Electrical Engineer prodigy, recruited by the Complex nineteen years ago; and William Stafford, a Former CIA Covert operations Director, who had been with the Complex twenty-three years. He also was the head of security for the Complex, until, eight years ago; he was named "Director", over all operations at the Complex. These names were accumulated from FBI files, sequestered by the CIA in an investigation into overseas nuclear activity.

The name "The Complex" is never mentioned in these files; and mysteriously, several FBI agents had died during the investigations of these men. The investigation (code-named "Scarlet") was put on hold, until a full investigation was done into their deaths.

"Hi!" A voice said, behind me.

I turned to look, and Catherine was standing there.

"Hi! What are you doing here?" I said acting surprised.

"I work here. I saw your name and address, on my computer, and I had to come over to see if it was really you. You didn't tell me you worked here," she said, smiling and seeming cheerful.

"Well, you didn't tell me you worked here, either."

"It's hard to learn much about someone, over a hamburger, isn't it."

"I guess we should have had shakes, too."

"Why don't I take you out for dinner, tonight," she said.

"I'd love to but it will have to be an early one. I'm leaving at 0500 in the morning."

"Okay, I make a good taco. We'll eat at my apartment, and I'll fix dinner for us. How does that sound?"

"Great! I love taco's."

"Good. Six thirty then."

"I'll be there," I said

"I have to get back, now. My department is very strict, when it comes to being prompt. They'll probably dock my time, for being away."

"I wouldn't worry about that. You probably deserve an afternoon off, anyway."

"I'll see you later. I have to go," she said scurrying back down the aisle.

"Mr. Raines, Captain Bolton here." I said, calling his office.

"Yes Captain. What can I do for you?"

"A Ms. Catherine Donaldson in personnel. Could you arrange an afternoon off for her?"

"Sure, say no more," he replied.

Max and I went back to the apartment; and I packed my clothes, to be ready for my flight, in the morning. Afterwards, I took a hot shower, lay across my bed under the fan to cool off, and dosed off. No sooner than I did, I was awakened by Max's voice talking to someone.

"Thanks!" Catherine said, as I peeked at her out of the corner of my eye.

"For what?"

"For the afternoon off."

"You're welcome."

"I thought you might have something to do with it, when I looked into your file and saw '

3' next to your code. That means only a handful of people know you exist."

"Don't put a lot of stock in all that hush-hush stuff," I replied, as she came over and sat on the bed next to me, placing her hand on my back, and rubbing it.

"You couldn't be much more than eighteen. What is it you do, that is so important that I can't acknowledge that you exist, even if the Justice Department inquires about you?" she asked, squeezing the muscles along my upper back.

"A mere language interpreter."

"That sounds interesting. What languages?"

"Any," I said to impress her.

"Any as in."

"Any," I answered.

"I'm not going to ask any more questions. I know you couldn't tell me, anyway."

I turned over to look at her. She placed her hand on my thigh, where the towel had spread open. She sat staring at me, as though she were waiting for me to make the next move.

"Max acted kind of weird. He looked at me as though he was searching me, before he let me come in," she said, looking toward the door.

"He probably did. He's my body guard, and becoming a good friend, also."

"I'm not going to ask," she said, knowing I wouldn't answer.

I smiled, placing my hand to her cheek. You are very beautiful. I didn't do it, so you could waste the afternoon with me."

She stood up, removed her clothes, and remained standing, allowing me to look upon her. Slowly, I looked over her body, and sat up on the edge of the bed, putting my arms around her, and pulling her belly to my face. I began moving my lips and tongue over her, as she placed her hands on my neck, holding my head to her. Reaching up I cupped her breasts in my palms, and softly kneaded them. Soft moans filled the room, enticing me to further explore. My lips moved to cover her right nipple, and I began to suck gently, at first. Then as she moaned even more, pulling my face tightly to her; I sucked feverishly, until she forced me back on the bed. Our lips locked together as we probed one another's tongue, and she pressed her pelvic area against my leg. Now we were both purring, and moaning, as our passion intensified. My hands glided over her smooth flesh, probing every curve within reach, and sending a warm rush throughout my body.

I tugged on her, rolling us over, and removing my towel at the same time. She felt my full erection as she ground her mid section against it; then taking it in her hand, she guided it between the lips of her cunt. I pressed forward, finding her opening, and lunged, sinking deep into her. She grunted, grabbing my hips, trying to pull me deeper into her. We continued kissing, and darting our tongues; as I thrust in and out of her, and we both grunted each time I did. In no time, I began feeling my body tingle, and the sensations heighten, knowing I was near coming. There was no holding back, as I lunged myself deep into her, and the sensation swelled my body.

"Come on. Come on!" she said, knowing I was climaxing.

"Oh damn, damn. God, you feel so good!" I mumbled, releasing everything I had into her.

I lay limp atop of her for a moment, catching my breath, and relaxing the tension in my body, as she held tight to me. Slowly I rolled off to her side, one leg and arm remaining on her, to feel the softness of her. We lay silent, as she caressed my arm. She got up, and dressed.

"I have the afternoon off. Why don't we make it five o'clock?"

"Five, it is," I said, watching her as she walked out.

I rolled over and finished my nap before showering. I had felt somewhat guilty knowing that I had exploited her for my own pleasure.

"You do make a great taco," I said, as we finished eating.

I stood up, carrying my plate to the sink, and rinsing it out as I stood next to her.

"Can you at least tell me where you're from?" she asked, looking up at me.

"Memphis, Tennessee."

"Are you going to make supper, tomorrow night?" she asked, feeling me out.

"I'm leaving early in the morning. I'll be gone for a couple of weeks."

"Oh."

"When I get back I'll treat you to a peanut butter sandwich. I fix a great peanut butter sandwich." I said, as she smiled.

I leaned over kissing her, and we put our arms around one another, and kissed a few minutes.

"I feel so awkward. This is a time when two people try to get to know one another, and I'm afraid to ask anything about you," she said, looking into my eyes. "Isn't there anything you want to know, about me?" she added.

"I know everything there is to know, about you."

"I'm not talking about what was put into a file. I'm talking about what my interest are, what's my favorite color, or what turns me on."

"You like tennis, volleyball, and fast-food. You miss your poodle "Alfi". Your favorite color is lavender; and, apparently, I turn you on."

"Anyone can find out those things."

"For the past three weeks; you have been wanting to visit your father, who has been ill, and are afraid to ask for time off to visit him, in Anniston Nevada," I explained.

"How could you know that? Not about my father, but about losing my job."

"Don't ever worry about your job. It's yours, for as long as you want it."

She looked at me in bewilderment. She couldn't understand this, and was still reluctant to ask any questions.

"I've got to go now. I have an early flight in the morning," I said, kissing her on the cheek, and leaving.

Arriving in Hanoi!

After getting off the plane; Max and I were ushered to the hotel, and given our rooms. A note was given to me that I should meet with Senators William Scott, and Thornton Weaver, in the lobby at 6:30 in the morning. It was now 8:30 pm. I had picked up a day, because of the time zone.

There was nothing to do, this late; so I went down to the lobby, and sat, acting as if I were reading. In truth, I was studying the people, and looking in to their minds to learn their feelings. I saw as much animosity toward us, as we had for them. Surprisingly, they had minds of their own, and were not brainwashed, as most would think. They study cultures, and believe in their hearts they have a perfect society. Most are content in being equal with their neighbors in their caste society, owning no more or less than anyone around them, depending in what level of society they reside in.