Chapter 2: Operation Take Back

Late June 2026 — Northwest Montana

The EBK administrative building—an eight-story, nondescript structure in the classical revival style of the late ‘40s, had been abandoned for over a decade when Sherman Eckers approached the out-of-state bank that owned it. Initially slated for demolition to make way for apartments, the bank deemed the project unfeasible due to the removal and rezoning of costs and abandoned it. After inspecting the structure from top to bottom and estimating renovation costs, Eckers presented a lowball offer. The bank accepted without haggling, and the company moved into its new headquarters a year and a half later.

It was much larger than needed, so they renovated the first four stories, using the top levels for storage and maintenance. The fourth floor was for officers and board members, with restricted access. The third floor housed most managers and department heads, except HR and IT, who dwelled on the main floor and basement. Jim’s office was neither posh nor in a prime corner; it didn’t even have an outside view, located in the center of the third floor. He chose it for its location and oversaw its renovation personally to ensure that it was shielded from most forms of ionizing radiation and non-ionizing forms like ultraviolet, microwave, and transient electromagnetic disturbances. Even low-emission 2700K warm yellow LED light fixtures were shielded.

At 1640 hours, he entered the lobby next to a shorter bald man resembling a caricature of Uncle Fester—hump-back included. Sullivan ‘Sully’ Johansson sat on the board of directors with two other members and the Chairperson, Ms. Benfeld-Evans. To most, he was an easygoing and light-hearted fellow, quick with a joke and quicker to laugh at his shortcomings—until you pissed him off.

“Ready, Jim?” he chortled happily outside the lobby entrance.

Jim held the door open and nodded back, “Age before beauty.”

It had been over a month since he had entered the main office, and he recognized less than a third of the faces in the lobby as they headed toward the elevator.

“Hold the elevator,” Sully murmured, stepping through a frosted glass door labeled Human Resources. He reappeared a moment later and joined his friend in the lift. Jim pressed the 3rd floor button, and the doors closed. He opted for comfort over aesthetics, wearing khaki cargo pants with a web belt and a thin cotton long-sleeved shirt that stretched over his broad chest and thick arms. He wore his faded ball cap and removed his GatorZ mil-spec sunglasses, allowing them to hang on his chest from their lanyard strap.

He noticed that over a third of the desks on the third floor were empty. Most of the remaining staff looked up curiously as the two appeared. Hardly any of them recognized him out of his usual business attire, and those that did gawked at him. All conversations ceased as they headed for the office in the center of the large room. His office had no windows, just a subtly reinforced door behind the wide desk and partitioned cubicle where Janice typically worked.

“Feels like a scene out of Boondock Saints,” Sully quipped beside the taller man.

Jim snorted, “Maybe the Big Lebowski.”

“Oh please,” the bald man scoffed. “You’re no Jeff Bridges.”

The ex-ranger lifted an eyebrow at his friend, “And you sure as hell ain’t Phillip Seymour Hoffman.” He stepped into the cubicle. “John Goodman, maybe,” he muttered.

“Please,” Sully replied good-naturely, reaching for the doorknob, “Allow me.”

Brent Carson looked up in surprise from Jim’s desk as the door swung open. He recognized the Board Member and began to rise, frowning. At 48 and five foot three, the newly hired office manager appeared as if his years had been unkind. He was overweight, and his thin, graying hair was combed to the side in a woefully inadequate attempt to cover his receding hairline. He wore a custom-fitted wool suit that barely covered his stocky frame. He wore thick-framed glasses that squeezed the bridge of his bulbous nose.

“Mr. Johannsen, this is a surprise—” he stammered, pushing the plush executive chair (not Jim’s) back from the desk. Then he noticed the large man stepping in with him. It took him a second to recognize Keller, dressed like an off-duty mercenary. The ball cap and three days of growth further obscured his facial features. “Who ... what is the—” He froze when he recognized the man. “Keller! What are you doing barging into my—”

“Shut up and get out of my office!” James barked as he strode past the desk and faced a large portrait of an elderly man on an ornate couch with a solid black cane. One could mistake the likeness for Winston Churchill until the eye recognized distinct differences in expression and body composition. The late Emmit Evans was not as rotund, nor was his expression quite so pompous and stuffy. The artist captured the kindly cherubic light in the man’s eyes that James missed the most. But his attention was on the sides of the portrait as he peered intently at the edge of the frame from both sides, where it touched the wall.

Carson stood angrily and shouted, “How dare you barge in here! You’ve been suspended until further notice pending an...”

“Save your breath,” Sully cut him off dismissively.

Brent’s face turned red as he gawked at the older bald man. “I beg your pardon?” he retorted. “I will not—” He craned his neck and shouted out the door. “Somebody, call Security!” He turned to the engineer, who ignored him. “And get Adrienne Babcock from HR up here!”

“Security?” Jim replied as he plucked his Ox Forge black tactical knife from his belt. With the push of a button, the dark blade snapped open with an ominous click that sent chills down the officer manager’s spine. “Since when did we get Security?”

“That was last year, actually,” Sully replied, “Per Sherman’s instructions. You should check your emails, Jimbo.”

Carson gasped and gawked at the black blade with frightened eyes. “You ... You can’t bring weapons in here!” he squeaked. “Call the Police!”

“Oh, calm down, fool!” the board member chided as James turned back to the portrait and prodded behind it delicately with the slim blade. “That man is a weapon. Which you would know if you had read his personnel file.”

“He ... he doesn’t have a personnel file!” the other man nearly panted in a panicked voice.

Satisfied with his findings, Jim stepped back and flicked his wrist, sending the tactical blade into the desktop, where it thudded point first. He never took his eyes off the oil painting. He grabbed the portrait by its sides and carefully rotated it counterclockwise before lifting it away, revealing a large silver-faced safe recessed into the wall behind.

In the main room, the elevator dinged, announcing the arrival of more people. Several uniformed men crossed the floor towards the office, and Sully waved them off dismissively.

“What are you doing?” Carson demanded, staring at the hidden safe.

“Making sure you haven’t compromised any State secrets,” Jim replied distantly as he turned the large black knob on the vault’s front.

“What?” the man retorted indignantly. “I’ll have you know—”

“Carson,” Sully cut him off sourly, “Please shut up!” He turned back to watch his counterpart work the lever and open the reinforced safe door to reveal a 32-by-24-inch cubical space over two feet deep. His chest obscured the contents, but the first thing he removed was a Springfield Armory 1911.45 pistol with a five-inch barrel and hot salt-bluing finish. The polished wooden grips featured double diamond etching and a patented crossed-cannons logo. He released the magazine, letting it drop into his hand before racking the slide, checking the chamber, and slapping the mag back into the grip. After clearing the weapon, he tucked it inside the waistband of his lower back.

No one noticed the office manager opening and closing his mouth frantically as the former Ranger pulled several metal containers from the safe, sealed in smoky gray mylar sleeves. He handed the containers to the bald board member, who accepted them reverently. He removed another stack of similar boxes and set them on the desk. Next, he took out a large fabric sack with a zipper and lock, similar to old money bags but larger. The bulging veins in his forearm showed its considerable weight, confirmed by the dull metallic clunk when he set it on the desk. He closed the safe, replaced the portrait, and turned back, gazing evenly at the stricken man, who fell back into his chair. The four security guards in the doorway watched with uncertain expressions.

“How did you get into this office?” he asked the frightened man, plucking his blade from the desktop and folding it closed with a click. He never took his piercing blue eyes from the office manager as he returned the knife to his pocket.

“I ... I ... a locksmith came and—”

Jim turned and gazed at the indifferent Board member. “An oversight,” the bald man shrugged. “One that will be rectified.”

Jim tucked the containers under his left arm and grabbed the heavy bag with his other hand. “Let’s go,” he said to the shaken office manager. “C’mon. I said get out!” He stepped back, allowing the man to get to his feet and dart past the burly guards at the door.

Jim was the last to step out. He closed the door loudly before joining the bald man, giving orders to the four security personnel.

“I want someone at this cubicle until the lock gets replaced,” he ordered calmly. A uniformed member nodded. “Nobody can enter that office except me, Mr. Keller, or another board member. Once the locksmith is done, bring the keys to my office. I’ll be here late.”

“Yessir,” the guard replied. He and a partner followed the two men back to the elevator. A third guard joined them in the car as the doors opened.

Sully swiped his ID badge against a black card sensor and pressed the 4th-floor button. He glanced back at the stunned staff—including Carson, who looked poleaxed. “You still haven’t figured out what the ‘K’ in EBK, Engineering, stands for?” he smirked as the doors closed.

James snorted as they rose toward the executive level, “Nice theatrics.”

“Me?” Sully chortled. “‘State Secrets’?” he mimed. “Nice touch with the .45,” he added. “Just don’t shoot yourself in the ass.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Jim scoffed. “Only an idiot would carry a hot 1911 outside a holster.”

While the containers didn’t precisely warrant ‘top secret’ classification—they contained all the company patents and many prototype components whose function and composition were closely guarded secrets, not listed with the United States Patent and Trademark Office. Some of the sensors and electronics were used exclusively by the DOD in military and satellite systems. The safe hadn’t been tampered with, but the company had protocols for the slightest breach or threat. So, all the sensitive components had to be relocated and inspected by at least two cleared officers before they were resealed and locked away.

Janice was into her second bottle of Mezzacorona when she heard Jim’s old Jeep pull up and shut off. She was languishing on his bed wearing one of his worn, black 101st Airborne t-shirts, with nothing underneath. It was like a tent on her petite frame, falling to her knees when she got up, swaying until her equilibrium caught up with her inebriated brain. Whoa, girl, steady as she goes, she thought drunkenly as the key turned in the door. She blinked as he stepped into the darkened living room, pausing to sniff the air and peer into the shadows. “Janice?” he inquired softly, hanging his keys on a nearby hook and re-locking the door.

“I’m in here,” she replied with a slight slur.

He walked to the dark bedroom, peering into the darkness until he recognized her beside the bed. “Hi,” he said.

“Hi,” she whispered back. His presence affected her again, and she hiccupped, embarrassed, as her nipples tightened. She felt warmth in her groin and slowly pressed her knees together. “How did it go?”

“About as expected,” he replied, stepping past her to switch on a bedside lamp. He could smell the wine on her breath and the tall glass on the bedside table. “You feeling, okay?” He touched her bare arm, and she shuddered as goosebumps appeared on her skin.

She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her face into his chest. “Mmm. Never better.”

He placed his hands on her shoulders and rubbed them up and down her back, noticing she had no bra or panties beneath the shirt. “That’s good to hear,” he replied awkwardly, pulling his hands away. “There’s a board meeting tomorrow afternoon. I want you to come so we can rescind your suspension and get you working again.” He paused for her reply. When she didn’t, he touched her shoulders to push her away. She tightened her grip around his waist and sighed. “Janice?”

“Hmm,” she murmured.

“Let go so we can tuck you in for the night.”

“I can’t,” she murmured back, her words muffled by her face pressed against him.

“Can’t what?” He laughed at her behavior.

“I don’t want to,” she replied, turning her face aside. “And I’m not tired.”

He humorously picked her up like a child, scooping her legs up with one arm while supporting her back with the other. She squealed in surprise, then giggled as he deposited her onto the bed. “I insist,” he replied, straightening and turning away.

She gazed adoringly at him as he sat on the bed to remove his boots. She reached out with a small hand and tentatively touched him, running her fingers along the hard muscles in his back. She felt him shiver briefly. “God, you are so beautiful,” she whispered.

He chuckled again, brushing his large hand over her forehead. “And you’re quite drunk, girl.” He tried to get up, but she gripped his hand tightly. “Don’t worry, love,” he assured her gently. “I’ll be in the next room.”

“No,” she said quickly, “Don’t.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, recognizing her longing and desire in her behavior, which unsettled him. “Janice ... We can’t...” he left it unsaid.

“Why?”

“Because I’m your boss. In the Army, we call that fraternization—”

She silenced him by shaking her head dramatically and pushing a small finger against his lips. “No.” she slurred. “Nope.” She seemed lost in thought as she touched his pectorals with her fingers.

“What do you mean, ‘no’?”

“I mean,” she replied drunkenly with half-mast eyes, “that you,” she poked him in the sternum. “Are not my bosh...”

His chest quivered as he chuckled quietly, “Bosh?”

“—until my sushpishion is lifted,” she nodded and patted his chest, marveling at his warm skin.

“Janice,” he smiled. “All kidding aside, you are not suspended and—”

“Shtop!” she demanded, cutting him off again. She shimmied backward until her shoulders rested against his headboard and regarded him with serious eyes full of clarity and determination. “Please,” she added with desperation. “Jim. Please stop for a minute and lishun to me.” She covered her mouth and hiccupped. “Please.”

He sighed and faced her directly, “I’m listening.”

She nodded once, catching herself as if her head nearly fell off. “Thank you.” She paused, pulling her feet up and hugging her knees. “I need to shay... ‘say’ some things, and it’s very hard for me.”

She rocked back and forth, staring at the bed covers. “I’m about to marry the most beautiful woman in the world.”

James nodded in agreement. He had met Marta Sleeping Bear many times and admitted she was a poster child of Native American beauty.

“She is Crow Indian, you know ... from Banff, Alberta,” Janice smiled proudly. “Her tribe raises and trains horshes. She’s up there helping with the Calgary Stampede.” She paused and sighed dreamily. “God, I miss her! Shometimes, I can’t believe she’s even real or that she loves me as much as she does.”

She blushed and then smiled at him with a devilish smirk. “Gives new meaning to ‘eating crow,’” she quipped and giggled.

James threw his head back and roared with laughter, encouraging her to continue.

After a moment, she hugged her knees again and peered anxiously into his contemplative face. “We have talked a lot, James,” she said quietly. “We want to start a family.” She looked away from him for fear of rejection. “We want... ‘I’ want ... a baby.” Her voice nearly broke as she spoke the words she’d been dreading, “I want your baby.”

The room was silent as she rocked back and forth uncertainly. “I would never ask this of another man,” she sniffed. “And if you tell me no, I won’t ask again.”

He was stunned by her heartfelt revelation and swallowed, “You want my sperm to impregnate you with a child for you and Marta to raise?”

She sniffed and nodded, glancing up at him with teary eyes. “I promise we will never ask anything of you. You don’t have to be on the birth certificate. I will never ask for your support—”

He sat on the bed’s edge and touched her lips, silencing her. “Have you spoken with Marta about this?”

She nodded, wiping her eyes with his shirt sleeve. “We have.”

“Is she okay with it?”

She nodded wordlessly as she awaited his response. It was like an instant release of pressure when he smiled and nodded.

“Of course!” he breathed. “I would be honored to donate my seed.”

She cried out tearfully and shuffled into his arms, embracing his chest. “Thank you! Oh God, thank you so much.”

She froze as he chuckled awkwardly, “I suppose I have to go to a sperm bank and jerk off in a cup.”

He stiffened when she responded by holding him tighter. No fucking way! He glanced down at her face, buried in his chest in astonishment. “Janice?”

He lifted her face by her chin when she continued her silence, but she refused to look him in the eye. “Janice?” he repeated dubiously.

She glanced up at his face briefly before returning to his torso. “I’m ovulating right now,” she stammered softly. “My window started this morning—”

He released an explosive breath, “You’re kidding, right?” he exclaimed, prying her arms from around him and holding her at arm’s length. “You want me to impregnate you now?”

She forced herself to look up at his incredulous face. “I’m begging you...” she sniffled desperately.

“But you’re ... gay,” he hesitated.

“Bi,” she corrected.

“But Marta is ... Is she really—” He released her and stood up. His mind was reeling, and he was embarrassed to feel himself growing hard at the thought of fucking his secretary. “She’s really okay with this?”

Janice sniffed again and smiled, reaching for her cell on the bedside table. She opened her text messages and held up her iPhone for him to read the other woman’s blunt response:

‘If you don’t fuck him—I will!’

“She’s nothing if not concise,” he chuckled, causing her to giggle.

He felt the tension in her body and sensed her apprehension as she nervously plucked at the fabric of his T-shirt. It took seconds to weigh her words against his moral imperatives. While he held firmly to the military bearing and discipline ingrained since commissioning as a Second Lieutenant, he knew it would utterly destroy her if he rejected her now.

“Okay,” he answered softly.

He saw her shift uncomfortably before raising her teary eyes to stare back at his smiling face. “You...?” she stammered in disbelief.

He nodded and leaned over to scoop her folded body into his arms. “Yes,” he said before kissing each of her closed eyes. She sobbed loudly and freed her arms to hug him back.

He released her and awkwardly stood beside the bed, staring at the slight woman. The dark material of his shirt contrasted with the paleness of her long, slender legs and bare feet. His throat tightened as he slowly reached for his buckle to loosen the web belt around his waist. This spurred Janice into action, and she sat up, swinging her feet over the bed and reaching for him. He gawked as she took charge and began tugging on his belt. In seconds, she had his fly open and zipper down.

She gasped as his khakis slipped from his hips and down his legs. His enormous penis sprang free, standing at rigid attention before her eyes. “Oh my God!” she breathed, gazing at it. She tentatively reached out and touched it, causing it to twitch as she wrapped her fingers around the thick shaft. She leaned forward to kiss the helmet-shaped tip. He groaned above her as her warm tongue tasted his skin. Her mouth opened wider and engulfed his head before she released it with a sucking pop.

“Oh my gosh!” she exclaimed as she squeezed his shaft and stroked him. “Forgive me if I seem new to this. It’s been a long time since I’ve sucked on a penis.”

Jim’s eyes were closed as her touch sent intense sensations through him. “Same here,” he chuckled nervously.

She giggled at his joke and placed her mouth back over him, stretching her lips to take him deeper. She hummed eagerly as her hormones burned away all reason and logic. With her free hand, she reached between his legs and cupped his balls, choking in surprise at their size. She could barely fit one of his testicles in her hand.

“Ahh! Okay!” he moaned, grabbing her hair. “Ease up, honey.” He pulled back, and she resisted by sucking harder on his shaft and squeezing tighter. “Babe, if you want to do this right, stop now before I—”

Her mouth popped again as she released him. She gasped for breath as she lay backward, pulling him with her by his rigid erection. Her legs slid apart, and he glanced at her glistening crotch. Her mound was swollen and covered with a thin triangular patch of curly fur. Part of him wanted to kneel and explore between her legs with his mouth and tongue, but she was in control of deciding what she wanted and where. He found her mouth instead and kissed her deeply as he lowered himself onto her, with his muscular arms planted to either side.

Janice gasped as she pressed the tip of his cock against her swollen labia, working it back and forth in her slippery juices. “Oh God!” she panted, lifting her hips to seat him against her opening. He lowered himself onto her, forcing her labia apart as he slowly entered her. “Oh God!” she cried louder as her pelvic muscles protested. He’s too big! She felt her vagina stretch painfully. With a quiet whimper, she clutched his hips to push him back out. But her hormone-driven mind flooded her pleasure receptors with dopamine, relaxing her muscles. She pulled him to her, thrusting her pelvis up against him. He grunted, thrusting deeper until he hit her cervix.

Her mind exploded with pleasure as she orgasmed instantly. She hooked her feet over his legs and dragged her nails across his hips. He groaned and pulled back, feeling her grip as he began thrusting in and out of her. Startled by her incoherent cries, he briefly worried about hurting her, but his hormones drove him to breed her above all else, and he continued fucking her urgently. He felt the explosion of pleasure as he ejaculated inside her, his shaft pulsing as he flooded her with his seed. Oblivious to her wailing, he held himself rigid until the pulses subsided, then kept his cock inside her as he gasped for breath.

For several seconds, he felt her body latch tightly against him, clinging to him with her arms and legs. His arms began to shake from exhaustion, so he delicately rolled onto his back, carrying her until she lay gasping atop him. Neither spoke for several minutes.

She pushed against his chest until she was straddling his waist with his spent penis still firmly inside her. She peeled the sweaty shirt over her head with a weary groan and tossed it aside. He gazed at her large, sweaty breasts and firm nipples in the dim light. She sighed with pleasure and closed her eyes when he reached up and grasped them, squeezing them experimentally. She moaned and rocked back and forth.

“Oh, sweet mother,” she sighed. “I’m so full of your sperm I’m gonna make a mess when you pull out.”

“Well, we can’t have that now, can we?” he smirked. She squealed as he sat up and held her against him, turning and slipping his legs over the bed. She gripped his neck as he stood and walked towards the bathroom with his flaccid penis fully sheathed inside her. She gasped in delight as her sensitive nipples brushed against his sweaty chest hairs while he gripped her butt cheeks in his large hands.

On a whim, she bent her chin and kissed him on the mouth, lightly touching his teeth with her tongue. She moaned when he returned the gesture as he stepped into the shower with her.

“Okay, babe, here we go,” he stated, slowly lowering her to her feet. As soon as he slipped out, a flood of his cum oozed from her, spilling onto the tiles. He diverted the shower head before opening the valves to warm it up. Then, they took turns lathering each other with his soap bar and washcloth. “I want to make something clear,” he said softly as he washed her back. “I am not ashamed to be known as the father of this child. I hope you both will include me in his or her upbringing.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, kissing his chest and belly occasionally as they rinsed off.

“Do you think it worked?” he asked absently.

“I’ll get a test soon,” she replied, wrapping her arms around him possessively. “But I wouldn’t mind trying a couple more times to be sure.”

“I hoped you’d say that,” he replied.

The third-floor boardroom was prepared in advance for the scheduled meeting. The surfaces were polished, and vases of lilies adorned the center of the long table with pitchers of chilled water and glasses. A nearby beverage service had pastries, coffee, and hot water for tea. When the mandatory meeting was announced, 65 employees were present, and several others were summoned from outlying areas. The staff meeting would be held immediately following the Board of Directors conference.

When Jim entered the building, he felt the tension in the lobby. Faces turned and gazed at him and his secretary as they strode toward the elevators. The frosted HR door was propped open, and Janice peered in to see several new ‘team’ members frowning at her as she was led past. Jim paused them outside the office.

“Wait here,” he told her under his breath. He entered the suite and closed the door behind him.

Janice surveyed the lobby and cubicles, filled with familiar faces glancing surreptitiously in her direction. She kept her gaze steady, noting those who quickly turned away.

Moments later, the HR door opened, and James strode out. She pressed the button, and one of the cars opened immediately.

On the third floor, they entered another tense space. All desks were occupied, and all business halted when they stepped out. He led her to the central office with a guard still posted outside.

“Good afternoon, sir,” the young man said, rising from Janice’s old seat.

Jim nodded back. “What’s your name, friend?” he asked.

“Fr ... Fred. Fred Glasgow, sir,” the man stammered.

“Why isn’t the office lock fixed yet, Fred?”

The man frowned thoughtfully and shrugged. “I’m not sure, to be honest. I just relieved the last guy an hour ago, and he didn’t say.” He held up his radio. “I can call down and ask,” he offered.

Jim nodded, “Go ahead. This is Janice Carlyle. You’ve been sitting at her old desk,” he introduced and waved the man back when he stepped aside for her. “Stay there. She will occupy this office from now on.”

Janice gasped at his words and turned to look at him incredulously.

He continued speaking to Fred, “Find out what you can and let Ms. Carlyle coordinate.” He turned to her, “Get a biometric entry system this time. One that allows us to monitor who comes and goes and when.”

She gazed at him with wide eyes but nodded to acknowledge his order. He held the door for her, allowing her to enter the office first.

“I’ll be back after the meeting.”

When Jim walked into the board room, Sullivan was standing before the large picture windows overlooking the Clark Fork River, a steaming coffee cup in his hand. The other two board members were seated at the panel end of the long table. Mark Jenkins and Jeoffrey Collins were middle-aged men brought aboard eight years ago to assist EBK’s global expansion efforts. Each was assigned a different continent.

“Before Shirley storms in like a molting dragon, I wanted to talk about a one-off job for Rob Gallagher,” he said, stepping over to the bald man.

“The chap who owns Mondak Oil?”

“The same. I need to borrow a hanger for one of his Gulfstreams. We’re going to try to shield it with AuNi,” he explained.

“Is a Gulfstream about the same size as our Citation CJ4?”

Jim shrugged. “Hell, if I know. I’ve never been on a plane I didn’t jump out of—” He pulled out his sat phone and texted the question to the billionaire.

Sully’s phone buzzed, and he glanced at the message. “Shirley and Sherman just pulled up,” he stated.

They stepped out to the main hall where the elevators were and waited, expecting the matronly owner and her partner. Curiously, the one car that left the first floor stopped on the second.

“Think they got lost?” Sully asked, staring at the elevator’s numerical indicators.