Second Chance - Cover

Second Chance

SECOND CHANCE is copyright protected. Any use, including reprints, without specific written permission is forbidden and illegal

Chapter 73

DoOver Sci-fi Sex Story: Chapter 73 - 43 year old Carl watched helplessly as Death came for him in the form of an overloaded produce truck. Suddenly he found himself in the body of a 14 year old boy, injured in the same accident. Now Carl had to learn how to live as Brian and cope with a new life and a loving mother.

Caution: This DoOver Sci-fi Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/Fa   Consensual   Science Fiction   DoOver   Incest   Mother   Son   First   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Masturbation   Petting  

Our protection detail was impressive. The government failed the last time they said they were going to protect us, and now the stakes were much higher! The mob said they were not only coming after me, but the Judge, the DHS Secretary, and the Attorney General.

One look at our squad, and you knew they would take out anything that the mob could throw at us. They made no attempt to hide their weapons. These four lads and one lady were ready to rock and roll, and acted like they wanted it to start, right now.

Once in the car, the agent in back with us said, "Hi. I'm Special Agent Dan Ortega. We welcome you to the best damned protective detail on planet earth. If you three had been in my care last time, those Mafioso would have been pushing up daisies instead of shooting at you." He was polite but wrapped very tightly. His short blond hair, like his suit, was immaculately groomed. The weapon bulge was unlike any I had ever seen, including in the movies. Later I hoped to ask about that.

"Here are the ground rules for keeping you three alive," he jumped right in, as we zipped away from the Branson strip. "We'll move you quickly to the plane, which is in a hangar surrounded by friendlies. Our person – from your personal protection detail – is in charge. They don't go, until we say they go. No one does anything until we agree that they do.

The ride to Branson Airport was quick, and the traffic was surprisingly sparse. When Rebecca mentioned it to Colleen, Agent Ortega responded. "Doctor Temple, we shut down a bunch of roads until we can get you safely out of town. The Director's office and the Attorney General's office were quite specific about our task."

"Our boss was also very direct about you three. If even one hair on your heads is disturbed, we will all finish our government service in either Guam or Alaska. Sooooo, our plan could be described as overkill.

He continued, "We have thrown a blanket over everything even remotely close to your hangar, and the grounds around the airport are being continually swept by agents with dogs, helicopters, and thermal imaging. If it's moving, we have it in sight, and we can take it out in a heartbeat.

"Once the pilots get us in the air, we relax, eat, get some sleep, and generally rest until we arrive in Gothenburg. There, another small army will meet us, and it starts all over again. We have your hotel secured, Doctor Abrams' clinic is secure, and your transportation has been canceled. My people will move you, or you will not move.

"When we move, you will each be pre-briefed. Pay attention, because if it all goes south, we need your absolute cooperation to keep you alive. If we grab you and physically carry you along, it's for a good reason. Let us. If we shout orders, listen and follow directions, because all of us have families at home and want to go home in one piece, under our own power.

"Any questions?" We had none. He was nothing, if not clear.

I could feel Rebecca tightening up as we drove towards the airport and wanted to calm her fears.

"Listen. We're fine. These people are doing exactly what he said. This is all overkill. Because we had a bad time before, they're all afraid to screw up and feel the hot breath of the Attorney General on their necks.

I whispered so soft that only she could hear, just barely. "Relax. We'll be thinking about joining the mile high club in just a little while. Imagine lowering your steamy self onto my hard, hot, pulsating and throbbing, love pole. Doesn't that make you all squirmy?"

Just as I'd hoped, Rebecca burst out laughing. Even though I wanted her to laugh, and break up the tension, I still felt a twinge of hurt. Of course the entire vehicle, including the driver, turned as one to see what got up her butt.

When Rebecca realized she had disrupted the entire group, she blushed so red, it looked like I'd set her face on fire. Trying to satisfy everyone, she said, "Brian told me an off color joke. That's all. It made me laugh."

Our detail leader gave her a stern look and said, "Obviously."

Soon the signs for Branson Airport were in sight, and our detail began to get very uptight, which concerned me mightily. I was in no condition to perform under fire, like last time, and I had barely survived then.

Though I never told any of my family, I knew it was beginners' luck that the relief squad showed up in time to put that woman down, just as she started to pull the trigger.

If this turned into another balls up, I might die from my poor health problems - before the mob ever got a bullet in me. That didn't worry me nearly as much as what might happen to Colleen and Rebecca, so I spoke to Agent Ortega. "Mr. Ortega, I don't know what you know about us, so I'm going to need you and your team to understand something very important. I am dying. It won't be long before the damage done in the other incidents will finish me off.

"The only reason I need you to know this is because, if this thing falls apart, Colleen and Rebecca come first. Period! They have their whole lives ahead of them. I have a few weeks or maybe a month. In fact, just the excitement of a conflict could trigger my death.

"If your team has to make a choice between me and either of them, you need to choose them! They matter much more than me.

"Please. Understand they are the priority over me.

"However, in case this thing falls apart, PLEASE give me a gun. I will go down fighting. Last time I survived because I grabbed the gun of a seriously wounded agent as I dragged her out of the way of the shooters.

"Please don't leave me alone and unarmed, again. I don't fear them coming for me nearly as much as I fear not being able to protect myself when they do."

Agent Ortega stared me down for the longest time. His immediate team was with us in the Suburban and heard everything that I told him. How he responded would tell me several things. One of those things was whether or not he was compromised. The FBI woman had wanted me unarmed and cut out of the crowd, so she could collect the bounty on my head. If Agent Ortega was of a like mind, there was no way he would allow me any opportunity to fight back.

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