Chapter 10

Carry still has the Narrative:

The following new character appears in this chapter:

Cynthia

Bill Jr’s girlfriend, 5’-1’’ tall, around 100 pounds, big breasts for such a small girl at about 32Cs, 16 years old, red hair, green eyes

Wednesday morning, we were up at 0600 hrs., had breakfast, cleaned the barracks, and donned the clean pair of camouflage fatigues that we had left in our duffel bags just for this occasion. They were a little wrinkled but clean for the presentation of our Graduation Certificates at 0900 hrs.

The Sergeant Major from the Ranger Committee arrived then, and in a brief ceremony congratulated us on completing the course and handed out our certificates. Agent Smith had a few parting words for us following the Sergeant Major’s departure.

“Anyone not wishing to take their Agency weapons home with them can turn them in to me and I will have them transferred to the Agency’s Training Facility where you can claim them in January,” he told us. A number of people turned their Agency weapons in. Roy, Chuck, Chris and I kept ours. Of course Chris’s and mine aren’t Agency weapons, but our own private weapons. We had advised Roy and Chuck to hang on to theirs and the ammunition that we had given them as a precaution.

Following that we were dismissed, and a small bus soon arrived to take us and our things into main post. From there we four got a large taxi into Columbus where we had him drop us at a nice, clean looking motel just outside of the city where Chuck and Roy each got a room. We left our large weapons, rucks, and duffel bags in the rooms, but carried our pistols with us when we adjourned to a nearby restaurant where we proceeded to try to eat everything in the place. A waitress smiled at us after our second re-order.

“You guys must have just finished Ranger Training. There were some of them in here yesterday, and they each ate enough for three people,” she told us with another smile

“Yes, we just finished Ranger Training,” I told her, but it didn’t come out well as my mouth was full of food at the time. When we were all stuffed, we went back to the motel, and while we wanted to have sex, it didn’t work out that way. As full as we were, when we lay down on the bed, Chuck and I went right to sleep, and we didn’t even wake up until 0700 hrs the next morning, which was Thursday.

We needed to use the toilet then as some of the food that we had gorged on the last couple of days needed to come out. Ever the gentleman, Chuck allowed me to go first. It was a good thing that the fan came on in the bathroom with the light because I didn’t think a lady could smell that bad. Chuck used the toilet after me, and on returning to the room advised me to wait a while before entering the bathroom again, where the light was still on.

While we waited, something came up, and I wound up in bed with Chuck on top of me. Damn, I sure hope that hotel had good soundproofing because I howled like a wolf and screamed like a mountain lion. By the time we had recovered, the bathroom was usable again. We had just finished dressing when there was a knock on the door.

“You finished in there?” Chris’s voice asked through the door.

“Just a second, and I’ll unlock the door,” I answered, as I pulled my pistol from under the pillow on the bed. Chuck had his own gun out also, and I signaled him to move over behind the door while I opened it. I opened the door and saw that it was just Chris and Roy standing there alone.

“You about ready for breakfast?” Chris asked with a knowing smile at our precautions.

“Yeah, give me a minute to put my boots on,” I told her, as Chuck moved from behind the door to stand beside me. We all went to breakfast then, but again left our large weapons in the rooms. At the restaurant, we managed to eat less than we had the previous evening.

“We want you guys to come to our house after Christmas,” I told Chuck and Roy between bits.

“Your house?” Roy asked looking at Chris.

“Yes, to meet our family, they all have the bubble too, and will be glad to meet you,” Chris told him.

“You’ll need to give us a map or directions for how to get there,” Chuck told us.

“How are you getting home?” I asked him.

“Probably the bus,” both guys answered.

“We’re renting a car, you should too,” Chris told them.

“We don’t have that kind of money,” Roy told us. “Besides I live in Tennessee, and Chuck lives in Alabama.”

“Not a problem,” I told them, as I paid for breakfast since the guys had paid for dinner last evening.

“Car rentals are expensive,” Chuck reminded me.

“It’s okay, Sweetie,” I told him before asking the waitress where we could find maps of Atlanta. She directed us to a service station near the interstate. There was a car rental place just down the street from the motel, and we headed there.

The rental place was part of a nationally known company, so we felt confident in renting there. I was the first one through the door with Chris and the guys behind me.

“Can I help you?” a young man asked from behind a counter.

“We need to rent three vehicles,” I told him.

“Three!” he asked in surprise looking at the four of us.

“Yes, we’re going home for Christmas,” I told him.

“Are you all in the Army?” he asked looking at our fatigues, boots, and short haircuts.

“No, we’re Federal Agents and have been training with the Army,” I told him.

“I’ll need to see your Federal ID cards for you to get the Federal discount and your driver’s licenses,” he told us. His eyes nearly popped out of his head as we moved our fatigue shirts to get our wallets and IDs out, and he could see that all four of us were armed. We flashed our Federal IDs and badges at him, and then laid our driver’s licenses on the counter. An older man appeared from the back then and noticed the clerk’s expression.

“Is something wrong, Wilson?” he asked.

“No sir, these Federal Agents want to rent three cars,” he told the older man, who looked at us suspiciously.

“What is the purpose of these rented cars,” he demanded, probably thinking that we wanted them for a raid or something.

“We’re on leave and are going home for Christmas,” Chris told him.

“And you require three vehicles for that?” he asked, still suspicious.

“We’re going to three different destinations,” Roy told him.

“And you couldn’t all go in one vehicle?” he asked.

“Two of us are going to Atlanta, another to Alabama, and the third to Tennessee. Three very distant locations and not near each other,” Chuck told him.

“All right, but you’ll have to pay for insurance on the cars in addition to any mileage over two hundred miles a day even with the Federal discount,” the man told us. “How are you paying for this,” he asked after a few seconds.

“Cash!” I told him, and pulled out the wad of cash that we had taken from the three assassins in the mountains of North Georgia. The guys nearly fainted on seeing it, but the rental guy’s eyes lit up.

“Step over to my desk, young lady, and we’ll get started on the rental contracts,” he said with a smile, as I moved my shirt again to get my Federal ID and badge back out revealing the gun on my hip again. Now it was his turn to be shocked.

“Ah ... yes, have a seat madam,” he said in a much more careful voice. Chris and I were very careful to check all of his figures and the distances that he entered on the contracts as well as what he was charging us per day. Of course, we had to give him our home addresses for the contracts and so the computer could calculate the mileage. The young clerk had called to be sure that our vehicles were being prepared and brought around to the front of the office once the contracts were signed, and I had paid him the money. We made sure that the mileages on all three vehicles were correct before we drove them back to our motel.

“Where in the world did you get all of that cash?” Chuck demanded when we were all in his room at the motel again.

“You remember us mentioning the guys who we killed?” I asked. “They all had money on them ... a lot of money actually. We turned in their IDs, wallets, and cell phones to Smith, but we kept their money and some of their papers. What you saw in the rental place was only a part of what we acquired,” I told him and Roy, as Chris brought out an even bigger wad of cash.

“This is from the ambushers in Florida,” she told them. “They no longer needed it, and we figured it was ours for all the trouble they had caused,” she finished.

“You’ve been carrying that around since the ambush?” Roy asked in shock.

“We’ve been carrying some of it since the mountains,” I told him.

“But where?” Chuck asked.

“In the secret pockets of our rucks,” Chris told him before asking, “Do you guys need any money?” We gave each of them two hundred dollars for fuel and any additional charges for the vehicles. We then loaded our rucks, weapons, and duffel bags into our vehicles before checking the rooms again, and turning in the keys at the motel office.

At the service station recommended by the waitress at breakfast, we found maps of the Atlanta area, and Chris and I worked on our boyfriend’s map and wrote directions as well as our phone number on some paper that we had and got theirs also. They agreed to be at our house on Thursday the 28th of December, and they would bring their own vehicles.

We all bought snacks and coffee for the drive to our homes, and set out after the guys gave us long passionate kisses. It was nearly noon before we set out for our various destinations. Chris and I had learned our lesson and only snacked lightly on the way home.

This time we drove like rational people since we had plenty of time, nearly two weeks, before we needed to be in Virginia. Since both of us tend to drive a bit fast, we made good time until we neared Atlanta. It was the Christmas Season after all, and it seemed like everyone was on the road going somewhere, so there were the typical Atlanta traffic jams. We managed to avoid most of them and took some back roads that Grandfather Ed had shown us when taking us fishing with him. He liked to fish, but we would fidget after about a-half hour, and he would let us go play in the woods until he was finished.

Since we had called our folks from the motel, they knew that we were coming home today, and everyone was there to meet us when we arrived. They were all carrying shotguns or at least pistols, and we wondered if there had been trouble here while we were away. However, everyone was smiling when we got out of the vehicle.

“Good lord, you girls are even thinner than you were the last time you were home,” our mom, Ashley, said as she hugged us.

“You girls will at least have some decent meals while you’re home. Don’t those people feed you?” Grandmother Esther asked, as she hugged and kissed us. Dad and Grandfather Ed also hugged us, and grandfather kissed us each on the cheek.

“So, are you finished with your training for now?” dad asked.

“Yes, we graduated from Ranger Training on Wednesday and have the certificates to prove it,” I told him while Chris dug our certificates out of our things to show everyone.

Bill, Jr. had been hanging back all of this time, but came forward now leading a young lady by the hand.

“This is my girlfriend Cynthia,” he told us. Cynthia was about 5’-1’’ tall and a bit thin at around a hundred pounds or so, but she had really big breasts at about 32Cs. We could immediately see why Bill, Jr. liked her plus her red hair and green eyes didn’t hurt either. Chris and I both gave her a hug before we stepped back, looked at our family, and asked the obvious question.

“What’s the problem now?” we both asked to everyone’s surprise.

“I told you they would guess,” mom immediately told dad.

“Come into the house, and we’ll explain,” dad told us. Chris and I grabbed our stuff from the car, and dad and Bill, Jr. helped us carry it inside. When we were all seated in the living room, dad began the explanation.

“You both know that I acquired several more pieces of land while you were growing up. The first piece was the abandoned farm just up the entry road from our farm. I bought it from the county for the taxes owed on it.” he reminded us.

“Yes, we remember!” Chris and I said, remembering the fun we had as children exploring the expanded area.

“A few years later, I bought the land that Mrs. Ferguson owned before she went into the extended care facility. It hadn’t been farmed for over twenty years at the time. That purchase gave us a total of something over four hundred and fifty acres of land which extends all of the way from the main road down the access road to the end of our original property. In width, it extends all of the way from our access road to the other access road on the far side of our property, and that road has been paved by the county recently,” dad finished.

“Why would they pave that road,” I asked. “There isn’t anything on it really.”

“I’m coming to that,” dad replied.

“Where does the trouble come in?” Chris asked when dad didn’t say anything for a time.