Chapter 13: Courier

MY FINAL TRAINING SESSION on Thursday morning was good. It seemed that people were, in general, more enthusiastic about the training after the dinner the night before, but at the same time we were all a little bleary-eyed.

“Hey, Nate. Did you not get coffee this morning?”

“Huh? Me?” I asked Ruby when she showed up. “I think I did.”

“You look a little worse for wear.”

“For some reason, I had a very late night last night. I might need a nap.”

“Get it before tonight. We have twenty people for this morning’s session. Shall we check the equipment?”

I got myself coordinated and then Ruby followed me to each work station as we checked off the equipment, materials, and who was assigned to it. After I got moving and greeted the new class, I was in much better shape. I thought I’d be finished at noon and would be able to return to the hotel. Not so.

“Nate, we have lunch scheduled with the deputy assistant secretary for visas and then a meeting with the assistant secretary for diplomatic security to clear up some of the misunderstandings that occurred during your trip to India,” Mr. Martin said. I was finishing up making sure all the equipment was loaded for shipment.

“I didn’t realize we had more on our schedule today, sir.”

“Opportunity strikes. You met Mrs. Clark at dinner last evening. John Phillips will be joining us for the meeting this afternoon. If you’re finished, we can head for lunch now.”

“Of course.”

“See you later, Nate,” Ruby said as we left the training room.

“This is a cafeteria meeting, not a formal banquet,” the deputy assistant secretary for visa services said. “Let’s make it Marilyn, Don, and Nate.” We sat with our trays in an alcove off the main cafeteria after going through the line.

“Nate, we prepared in every way we could imagine for the rollout of this equipment and smoothing the processes that take so long. But in all that, we did not anticipate the breadth of impact it would have throughout the US Government.”

“Non-immigrant visas are little more than a sheet of paper stapled into a visitor’s passport,” Marilyn said. “Most don’t even include a photo since the photo is part of the passport. An immigrant visa, on the other hand, is very much like a passport. We offer immigrants the same rights and privileges as citizens when it comes to travel. They are under US protection and their immigrant visa functions as their passport,” Marilyn said.

“I think I understand that. It’s a little confusing that most passports are the same color except the black diplomatic passport I carry,” I said.

“Not so. In fact, you may travel to military installations to train on the equipment because US military deployed overseas are issued a brown/maroon passport. The equipment we have acquired will be just as useful there,” Martin said.

“And we expect a change in passport colors to go into effect in celebration of the Bicentennial,” Marilyn added. “Much needed. Normal domestic passports will be issued in blue and the light green passport will be issued as a visa for refugees and immigrants.”

“What we’re getting at is that you are on the cutting edge of a change in the standards for passports that goes beyond having the photo and information instantly applied to the passport page instead of being a separate photo laminated onto the page. It’s very much a matter of national security.”

I hadn’t had the importance pointed out to me in quite that way before. I wondered what I was going to find out when the diplomatic security guy showed up. I didn’t need to wait for long.

“Nate, this is John Phillips, Assistant Secretary for Diplomatic Security,” Martin said when the tall redhaired man arrived in our little alcove. I noticed that most of the remainder of the cafeteria had emptied out as people returned to work after lunch.

“That’s a mouthful of a title, but in reality, there are only two of us who report to the Foreign Service Bureau in this office. You won’t find people from the diplomatic security in any of your training sessions,” John laughed.

“I’m pleased to meet you, nonetheless,” I said as we shook hands.

“My job includes the Diplomatic Courier Service. Don and Marilyn called me in because there was an incident in India in which you were given a confidential document and asked to deliver it to the ambassador. That shouldn’t have happened, but it’s understandable. You are a member of the Bureau of Consular Affairs, and thereby are issued a black passport which grants you diplomatic immunity and exempts you from search throughout most of the world. I’ve reviewed your application and testing data and we’ve run a security check on both you and your assistant, Ronda May. I’m happy to say you qualify for security clearance to carry secret documents.”

“I ... Is that a part of my job?” I asked, turning to Martin.

“It’s something we didn’t anticipate, but actually, your job description overlaps significantly with the Courier Service,” he said.

“That’s why the crash course on the differences between visas and passports,” Marilyn said. “When you take the photo blanks and templates from one place to another, you are transporting secure documents. If those fell into the hands of a foreign government, they might issue unlimited valid US passports or visas.”

“Oh, crap! I guess I knew that in a way, but it hadn’t really registered what it could mean,” I said.

“Precisely,” John said. “Now the confusion that occurred in India arose from you being authorized to transport those secure documents, therefore, the Consul General assumed you could carry a document from him to the ambassador. Which you did very well.”

“Thank you. It was just a real surprise,” I said. “I felt my first responsibility was to report the activity to my immediate boss.”

“Well done,” Martin said.

“What we want to do is make it an explicit part of your job,” John said. “I don’t foresee that you will be called upon to do a dedicated courier run. Those sometimes last months as a courier might go back and forth between countries multiple times. But your routine work will provide an extra channel, especially for communications between an embassy and consulate in areas where telephone and other services are not secure.”

“If it’s okay with Mr. Martin, I don’t see a problem with it.”

“Good. Don?”

“I think it is natural. So much so, that while you were here training others in the use of the equipment, which is your primary function in the State Department, we ran Ronda through the formal courier training program. In most instances, she will be the one carrying a diplomatic pouch as you will have your hands full of the secure materials for the consulate.”

“So, she’s already been trained?”

“Finishing up today,” John said. “My associate is standing by to take you through the brief course when we leave the cafeteria.”

Well, shit. I guessed I wasn’t going to be doing any afternoon photo sessions in my hotel room.

It was interesting to find out some of the history of the courier service, which started back in 1918. Most of the session, however, was regarding the rules of being a courier. Aside from the material I was carrying for my training, if I was handed a diplomatic pouch, I was to deliver it as soon as practical to the recipient. I wasn’t to ask or attempt to find out what was in the pouch. This was a level of security so that if I was questioned, I would have no information other than who the pouch was from and to. Most of the time, if I was called upon at all, it would be to deliver a pouch from the US to the courier service in whatever country I was going to. Seldom would either Ronda or I be expected to hand a pouch directly to an ambassador.

I was interested in knowing some of the pouches we took would be headed somewhere besides the place we took them. What I mean is that I might take a pouch to Mexico City and hand it off to the courier service at the embassy there. The pouch itself might be headed to Bolivia, but an actual courier would deliver it there. My deliveries and Ronda’s deliveries would mostly be intermediary steps that saved dispatching a courier on a dedicated mission or diverting one to take a pouch.

It was six o’clock when I finally left the State Department and went back to the hotel.

My room was set up for a lovely romantic dinner with Adrienne. She was naked and kneeling on the floor when I walked in. I pulled her to her feet and kissed her, while trying my best to get out of my jacket and tie. It didn’t take long before we were stretched out on the bed. She molded her curves to my body and welcomed me into her pussy. When we were sated, she began feeding me.

“What a lovely way to spend our last evening in Washington, DC,” I said.

“Yes. I wish it could last.”

“What?”

“Oh, you have an appointment, master. Surely you didn’t forget that you are taking pictures tonight.”

“I assumed it was too late. It’s nearly eight.”

“I should get you dressed. You won’t need much. Just slacks and a shirt to get through the hotel.”

“Through the hotel?”

“Room 414. Your camera and lights are already set up and your client is waiting.”

“Adrienne, what am I going to do with you?”

“Let me be your loving pet, master. I will be waiting when you are finished, if you decide to come back tonight.”

She got me dressed and I stole through the hotel to rap lightly on the door of 414. Ruby opened the door and smiled at me. She had obviously gone to some work to prepare the setting and props. In fact, I was willing to bet Adrienne had a hand in setting it all up. My camera was on a tripod and two lights were focused on the bed.

“I’m so glad you’re willing to take my photo,” Ruby said. “Please don’t be too hard on Adrienne. I’m afraid I manipulated her.”

“Adrienne is very difficult to manipulate, but I’m glad you think so. Last night was all the punishment I care to give out,” I said.

“She helped me set things up this afternoon. Does this work well enough for an Attic Allure photo?”

“Yes, I think it will do nicely. Hmm. We started with portraits last evening. Let’s warm up with a couple of quick casual shots before we move into the glamour world.”

“Would a glass of wine help you warm up?” she asked, handing me a glass of dark red wine. I toasted her and checked the camera. She held the pose and I took the first of many photos we would get to that evening.

It was not difficult as we moved along to get Ruby out of her dress. She wore black lacy lingerie. As soon as the dress fell from her shoulders, I could see the shading of her nipple beneath her bra. I let my hands linger on her shoulders and pulled one bra strap off to the side. Ruby smiled like she’d just won a lottery.

“Hold it right there,” I whispered as I brushed my lips against hers.

I got the picture and then adjusted the lights. I took her wine glass and set it aside, then looked at her other props, laid out on the table.

“This is lovely,” I said, picking up a perfume atomizer.

“Adrienne helped me pick out a few props in Georgetown this afternoon. There’s a cute little antique shop just on the edge of campus. To hear the proprietor talk, you would think this atomizer was once owned by Martha Washington herself,” Ruby said.

“It would be a shame not to use it in a photo, then. Let’s have you here on the bed, shall we?”

“Have me anywhere you’d like, Nate,” Ruby said. That was worth considering.

I got her positioned on the bed, took a picture, and then unfastened her bra. She let it slip from her arms and didn’t try to cover up at all. Her large nipples came erect at my first light touch and Ruby moaned.

“Oh, yes. You’ll be much happier with this photo than with your ID photo,” I whispered as I kissed her neck. I positioned the atomizer and took the next photo. We set the atomizer aside after half a dozen shots and then I worked her into other positions, eventually getting her sprawled on the bed completely naked. Her black slip was tossed casually across her hips, just concealing all but the edge of her red pubic hair. When I sat beside her to change her position slightly, she put her arms around my neck and pulled me in for an intense kiss as I caressed her breasts.

“Can we move on from photos to lovemaking?” she whispered.

“Oh, Ruby. Did Adrienne not tell you that I don’t have sex with models?”

“Or in the studio. And you don’t date models. But, Nate, I’m not a model. I paid for the sitting to get the perfect photos. This is my bedroom, not a studio. And you could hardly call what we are doing a date.”

She pulled me down next to her and began unbuttoning my shirt as I let my hand stray to her short hairs. I could feel the heat and moisture, so I knew she wasn’t faking it. And she had an ironclad argument. The only question was whether I wanted to dip my cock into this fiery crotch as I pressed myself against her hard nipples and pillowy breasts. That was an ironclad argument as well. I kissed my way down her body as she pulled my shirt off and buried my nose in her pussy.

I had condoms in my pocket I did not remember putting there, so Adrienne must have expected my night would include this and prepared me for it. When I was covered, I sank into Ruby’s hot core and we both moaned with pleasure. We took our time and thoroughly enjoyed the evening’s entertainment.

I still got back to my room in time to cuddle the rest of the night with Adrienne.

“So, I guess we’re couriers now, too,” I said when Ronda picked me up at the airport Friday. “Did we sign up for this?”

“It took me by surprise. You were scarcely off to DC when Mr. Martin called me into his office and told me he wanted me to take the courier training program,” she said. “No, we didn’t sign up for this, but in fairness, when we were given the opportunity to express an interest in government jobs back when we tested, I put that down as an area of interest. I mean, it’s one of the areas where being multi-lingual is a big plus.”

“The way it was described to me, if that was where you were actually assigned as a career, you’d never be home. Some of those guys are out for months at a time,” I said.

“Not so much anymore. That was before airplanes. But you’re right, in general. A courier could spend a month just flying back and forth between two cities.”

“Well, we’ve got a few long treks coming up anyway,” I sighed. “I hope Anna and Patricia are willing to wait until December before we take them somewhere exciting.”

“It will be exciting. I’ve contacted each of the offices and we’re working on the schedule. As opposed to our Mexico trip, which will just be exhausting.”

“Don’t we have Canada first?”

“We’ll fly from here to Ottawa on Tuesday, train in the embassy Wednesday morning, then fly all the flipping way to Vancouver Wednesday afternoon. We’ll train at the consulate there Thursday morning and then board our plane back to Chicago. I think this is a trip we’ll be sleeping on the plane.”

“I think I’m going to get good at that,” I laughed.

“The good news is we’ll have Friday to recuperate before we take off for Mexico City on Monday. Mr. Martin says that all the equipment for Mexico will be shipped with us. We aren’t flying commercial for this one.”

“Military?” I said with some alarm.

“No. Government charter.”

“Why? It seems like a bit of overkill for our training mission.”

“We’re traveling the first leg with a government bigwig who will have a dinner in Mexico City with the Mexican Secretary of Foreign Affairs. You will be asked to take official photographs. Then our National Security Adviser will be continuing to Chile while we head north to the five northern consulates.”

“Wow! You have a lot of details.”

“As it has been explained to me, I’m responsible for keeping you from being blindsided like we were in India. It’s a two-way street. If we are going someplace where you have friends, I need to know in advance so I can get appropriate clearance. The only place that Mr. Martin expects there to be any problem is in Greece, but that’s long enough from now that everything could change by then.”

“Do you have any idea how lost I would be in this job without you?” I asked.

“We are lost without each other, my love. Now let’s get home so you can dance with our little girl.”

And that was how I spent most of my Friday evening. Toni wanted to tell me everything about her week, and had new drawings to show me. There was one drawing of her family that pointed out her three mommies, her daddy, and baby sister in mommy’s tummy. I almost cried when I saw she’d drawn a tombstone labeled ‘father.’

I made love to my wives over the weekend and Ronda and I prepared to leave for Canada on Tuesday. I loved taking Patricia’s pictures for what we considered week nineteen of her pregnancy. Anna had set up a makeshift studio in the boathouse and I processed and printed the pictures I took of Ruby in addition to Patricia’s photos.

“A wanton redhead?” Anna asked. “How did you manage that?”

“I believe Adrienne managed it. I punished her for it.”

“I’ll bet she loved that.”

“I think she let the entire hotel know she loved it,” I laughed.

I was prepared for the barrage of phone calls I had on Monday. My students across the country were setting up their equipment. Most had simple questions. One had an actual issue that required a replacement for a part that was broken in transit. Josie had our schedule for the week with phone numbers to forward questions to. We promised to check in each day before she was finished with work to see if we needed to make calls in the evening.

Then Tuesday afternoon we took off for Ottawa. We were driven past the embassy, but we had no official reason to visit it until Wednesday, so we went to the new Holiday Inn, just a few blocks away. We had a nice dinner in the revolving rooftop restaurant and then held each other through the night in our room.

Training went well in the morning. It was straightforward, but the operator needed to be shown how to quickly pack and unpack the equipment. There wasn’t a huge call for passports at the Canadian embassy because of the open borders between the US and Canada. But all State Department employees at all the consulates were to have ID badges. So, the operator pair we trained would be packing their equipment and taking it to each of the four eastern consulates in Canada, after they got all the employees at the embassy badged. They’d head for Halifax, Montreal, Quebec City, and Toronto.

We were finished by noon and got to the airport in time to have lunch before we caught our flight to Vancouver. We got in and checked into an old hotel in Gastown. It was late for us, though only six in Vancouver. We went immediately to find some food.

Like the embassy in Ottawa, the consulate building and its dozen offices was woefully inadequate for the number of people who worked there. After we checked in at the consulate, we were taken to another building where the trainees looked desperate for some way to relieve their workload.

“We get as many visa requests in this office as in the rest of Canada combined,” said our trainee. “A lot of traffic from Asia makes its way to Vancouver, hoping to get into the US. Add to that the assignment to get the employees in Calgary and Winnipeg badged in the next thirty days, and you can see we are swamped.”