B.J.Jones the Story of My Life - Cover

B.J.Jones the Story of My Life

Copyright© 2012 by jballs

Chapter 484

Ex-Military Sex Story: Chapter 484 - This is the story of the life of Roberta Josephine Jones. Shortened to BJ by her friends. From the battle fields Afghanistan with the Marines, loss of her life time friend, with flash backs to her wild youth. After the Marines she must find her way in the world. The early chapters of this story includes incest, les,rape and other adult themes. I plan for this to be a multi-part serial. This is my first attempt at writing. Much of the sex is in the early chapters changing to action and drama.

Caution: This Ex-Military Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   mt/ft   Fa/Fa   ft/ft   Mult   Consensual   Romantic   Heterosexual   Fiction   Nudism   Slow  

Monday was going to be one busy day for all of us. Vicky and I were at Morton Field at 0600 leaving for Minnesota in one G5. When I was finished there, we were flying on to Columbia SC. I carried my dress blues and portable office on the plane.

Howie and four of his helpers were going in another G5 carrying two of the new bigger drones and upgraded devices.

Both C5s were flying to Windhoek; Bob’s Construction and crews were ready to go with the cargo split up between the two planes. Included this time were six Army surplus Humvees that had been checked out and upgraded by the mechanics.

With so many cars, trucks and equipment at the office and Morton Field, Marcy had finally given into Jason and Dad’s prodding to start our own repair shop for our own equipment. Too much time was being wasted moving things to the repair shop and then waiting for our turn to be repaired.

There were six more Humvees at Morton for whatever we would need them for. I was afraid that they were going to be grabbed. Dad, Jason, Jenny and Vicky had already expressed interest in one for traveling in bad weather.

Two man lifts and a flat bed truck were also making the trip this time, along with a dozen Job boxes of tools and supplies.

A replacement Suburban was also loaded to replace the one that was destroyed. Bob was confident he had all the supplies he needed. As Marcy had done at other places, she had rented a hangar at the airport to store things in.

We landed at Minneapolis St Paul International general aviation section at 0730. Suburban from the MAAR site were waiting on us. Traffic was a mess that made us half an hour late getting to the farm site.

There was a pair of army guards posted at the lane entrance with M16s who stopped us. I showed them my Federal ID and badge, then asked, “Who is in command here?”

“Major Carl Betts, he is up there by the house. He said to send you there when you came. There is also Len Zimmerman from the DHS waiting for you,” Corporal Hayes replied.

I drove to the command vehicle. When I stepped out it was obvious they were not having a good day. There were two of those British invented open field mine clearing machines parked in disarray. One was near the house and the other on the side of the lane. Both had been damaged by an IED.

A third one was still operating and was nearly finished making the final pass around the buildings.

We walked up to where the Major, Len and Kent Dalton (commander of the MSP) and his group were standing. They were watching a tracked robot bomb disposal unit start up the steps towards the door. The steps were concrete and it looked that the porch floor was a solid concrete pad.

The robot had mastered the steps and was slowly making its way across the pad to the door. There was an explosion; when the dust and smoke settled, the quarter million dollar robot was upside down in the yard mangled and burning.

“Do you have another one you want to send in?” I asked the Major.

“The equipment said that was concrete; if he doctored the concrete, what did he do in the house? No and we are not sending teams in the house either. We have to think this thing out,” he replied.

“What is your opinion Kent?” I asked.

“I’m glad we decided to follow the Army in on this one,” Kent replied.

“Well, I don’t have all day for debates. Howie, do your thing,” I said.

“Ten-four Boss,” he replied.

“No pictures - and that includes everyone - unless you want me to use your phone for target practice,” I said loud enough for everyone to hear.

Howie’s group began unloading the drones, devices, and laptops to control them. I listened as Howie explained the new equipment. This was the first time I had seen the new drones set up. The audience was as captivated as I was.

Howie said, “They are capable of carrying 200 pounds and more with additional motors installed. It also carries more batteries and can fly higher and the targeting cameras are improved models that give a more precise clear video.”

“The devices are also new. For one thing they are bigger, 150 pounds compared to 100 of the old ones. They are longer because the drone was rectangle instead of circular.”

“The nose has been hardened to give better penetration, the fins are designed to tear away at impact to allow better penetration of hardened structures,” Howie said.

I came close to asking how one hardened aluminum but thought better of asking in public.

With both devices checked out and armed, Howie waited for me to give authorization.

“Mission approved,” I replied.

The first device was dropped from 500 feet into the east end of the house. While the second drone was positioned there were a dozen explosions from within the house.

The second device was dropped into the west end of the house and more explosions followed.

I had Howie drop one more onto an addition built off the end of the house. Within minutes the house was a raging inferno driven by even more explosions.

Then I ordered devices dropped on both separate out buildings. The results were the same. Fire and explosions, with the biggest building where we thought the truck was stored caused a massive explosion. It was a good thing we were well away.

All together there were 40 secondary explosions after the devices exploded. Saif had booby trapped the place well, not caring who he killed with them. I wondered how many were placed around the farm waiting for victims.

“Major, when you get those two machines repaired I want the whole area run over with them, if you can,” I said.

The Major was interrupted by a call from the two guards, “There is fire equipment wanting to put the fires out?” one of them radioed.

“Negative on putting the fire out, I want it to burn out,” I replied. Then to emphasize my point there was another explosion.

“Kent, tomorrow when this mess has burned out, get a contractor with an excavator and dozer to dig a big hole and bury the remains deep. Tell him to stay on the equipment and not to be wandering around picking up souvenirs. Send me the bill,” I said.

The drones had just been put away when a news chopper made several low slow passes over head.

“If you get any calls, divert them to the task force,” I said to Kent and Len.

Howie and the crew went back to Morton as Vicky and I headed to South Carolina. I changed into my dress blues in flight. There was one more medal on the Blues since I had worn them in public last time.

The Presidential Medal of Freedom was presented to me in a ceremony for the Kampala Embassy attack, while I was in Washington for the Senate investigation and hearings. It was a civilian award for both military and non military individuals.

I had plenty of time left so I took a quick look at my emails, taking care of those marked as important or urgent.

Then I read the questions we had asked Saif and his answers. Vicky had taken everything down in her unique shorthand. It had taken a while for me to learn how to read it but now I had it mastered. There were 60 pages for me to read.

As I read I made my own set of notes on the margins, things I needed to direct others to follow up on.

Saif had been far more helpful than he intended. It would take days to investigate the data and the new leads.

There had been three ships participating in the terrorist pipeline. The Exxon Val Diageo that Saif had used: the Amoco Sea Voyager and the Majestic Sea Horse.

The Exxon and the Amoco were modified while they were getting engine upgrades in Surat India in 2013. That meant that this operation had been going on for 4 years. The Majestic Sea was the new kid on the terrorist pipeline modified in December. She was to replace the Exxon Val Diageo.

The Exxon Val Diageo was to be scrapped after its current voyage due to serious structural problems so bad that it could break apart in a major storm.

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