Money!
Copyright© 2016 by Dual Writer
Chapter 39
Action/Adventure Sex Story: Chapter 39 - This is a flowing story of how money has an unwanted affect on a man until he decides to become a force for his own protection. The story will find its way to be a part of Florida Friends. There is sex in this story. Some times a lot of sex so you've been warned. It is not a sex story.
Caution: This Action/Adventure Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Consensual
Waking up in the morning covered with female body parts laying on you is very disconcerting. The one thing it does is cause a ‘sprong’. Just thinking of all the available breasts to caress and kiss, along with the juicy pussies lying next to me, had my middle lifting the sheet.
Someone’s leg was lying right on the exit wound area that Fran had treated. It was sore, but not hurting. The docs and nurses always ask you to rate the pain from one to ten. This was a two or three.
Janet’s eyes opened and she immediately smiled at me. If anything will make your heart sing, it’s something like that. The love of my life wakes up, and the first thing she does is to smile at me. I motioned for her to let me out on that side of the bed with my head. I needed to use the bathroom.
I went to the bathroom and had Janet standing in the door watching me pee. She sat down as soon as I shook off, and I could hear her flow into the toilet. She wiped herself, and the two of us were both thinking of going back to bed. Nope, we would go out and do some forms and then enjoy some coffee with Steve.
Both of us were in shorts, t-shirts, and barefoot when we stepped out into the grass outside the patio, which was moist from the early morning dew. I did some light stretching forms to see how much each would hurt, and continued until I was putting some good pressure on the wound.
I decided that was enough and went back into the patio with Janet. We both pulled a mug of coffee and sat at the table Steve always sat at. Tiny walked in and turned the lights on. He said, “Steve had to go to DC to talk to one of the big guys about our fighter/bomber and laser weapon. It seems the competition thinks that they should be allowed to access the patent and be instructed on how to build the weapon so that they can be paid for it instead of us. Steve said he’d burn the patent and all the processes if that was the Feds’ decision. He said there was no reason to enrich our competitors when we were the group who designed the weapon.”
Glenda came in and said, “I saw Steve leave out of here about four this morning. I know he was hyper about something last night, but he doesn’t say anything.
Tiny said, “He has both Wes and Sal, who headed the teams that built the weapon and airplane, with him. The company trying to steal everything has constantly failed to design an aircraft capable of going through Mach 2 without sending a shock wave across the country. Our new fighter/bomber is just like the PX, and can go through Mach 3 without any major disturbance. I watched our weapon fire and hit a moving target from almost thirty miles out. Mind you, the air has to be clear for it to be effective. Haze or cloud dissipates it to nothing pretty fast, but it’s usually clear at high altitudes.”
I looked at Tiny, and said, “You know that we shouldn’t even be talking about this. That equipment is so top secret that the President may not be cleared to know about it.” That brought everyone listening at the time into a good laugh.
Tiny told everyone who had heard the conversation, “You all know the drill, this conversation didn’t happen. Have some coffee and forget what we don’t know.”
Janet and I went into the house to nudge our ladies into consciousness. Donna and Nikki had to go to school. Andrea and maybe Janet needed to go on charters. Kissa pulled me to her and kissed me until I was breathless. She said, “Something came over me, and I can’t resist kissing you now. You should probably fly courier today so that I don’t follow you around like a puppy dog.”
The household was moving and having a good time doing it. The banter between the girls was fun and I let it surround me as they went back and forth, kidding each other while getting ready for the day. I was just about to reach for a breakfast sandwich when my cell phone began ringing.
I didn’t think anything about it, and answered it, “Miller”.
“Charles Miller, you are ordered to appear in Washington, DC, at nine this morning for a hearing concerning your recent action toward subjects under warrant.”
“Okay, where exactly should I go and why am I being questioned on a required warrant?”
“You will be met at Andrews AFB when you land your airplane and will be taken to the room where you will be questioned. You should probably have legal counsel with you when you testify.”
“Pardon me? Why would I need to have legal counsel to tell you what had to be done?”
“You exceeded your authority by invoking that severe of a warrant resolution.”
“I can’t magically appear at nine this morning. It is already seven thirty, and I will have to shower, shave, and dress appropriately. I’ll be at the appointed place about eleven. If you want me somewhere by nine, you have to tell me the night before.”
I took a deep breath and headed toward our suite. I dressed in a suit after a shower and shave, and headed to the airpark with Fran. Janet and Andrea were both gone for the day, so I begged anything that would quickly fly to DC. I was back in the Phenom 100 and on the way to DC.
I was in the pattern in DC when my cell phone was going off. I looked at the screen and saw it was from Chuck. He said, “It’s me also in the pattern in DC.”
Chuck told me, “I don’t want you to go in there raw. Those pricks will make you say things that aren’t even close to the truth. I’m coming down from 60 thousand feet and should be able to land in about fifteen minutes. You did what was necessary and took a bullet because of it. Let me land and go with you to this hearing. This is bullshit and the same stuff I had to constantly go through. Land and stall them until I’m down. I’ll call you to pick me up wherever it may be.”
I was given access to landing and drifted down to gently land and taxi to the area they were indicating. I was monitoring the PX2 coming in as it landed and was going to be parked near me.
A car came racing out to the where we were parked and a man jumped out and was waving me toward the car. I held my hand up and pointed at the PX2 that was parking near us. I said, “My boss is on that aircraft and I want him to accompany us.”
The guy was getting angry and actually reached for the sidearm at his waist several times. I told the man, “Pull than gun on me, and you will die. Not from me, but from those who watch out for me.”
The man became more docile as he realized he had been outmaneuvered on this one.
Chuck came from the PX2 and walked to me. He shook my hand, and said, “Don’t worry. I’m sure these are the same crazies who messed with me during my time in charge. Listen to what I say, and tell them the same thing the next time.”
We spent three hours of them asking me questions and me answering. I asked that they be allowed to view the videos that were taken. The first thing they heard was me hollering that we were serving a Federal Warrant. The first shot was immediately taken at us that hit the wall near me, but very close to the man behind me. My shot was dead on. I guess that would mean that whoever shot at us was dead.
It was instance after instance of our men returning fire and not taking an active attacker role from there.
Fran handed me a note that made me smile. I said to the panel of five men, “Someone took the time to listen and watch the video enough times that the number of rounds fired were counted. The people we were attempting to capture fired a total of five hundred and eighty-two rounds. Law enforcement fired sixty-three times. We were very lucky to have suffered only a few casualties and no deaths.”
Chuck Johnson stood up, and said to the group of men, “Unless there is any other part of that operation that you don’t understand, I think Deputy Miller should go back to his residence so that he can recuperate. He’s still on bed rest for this week. Do you want him to show you his wound?”
They actually had to look at each other to see if it was okay to not look at the wounds. Chuck shook his head and pointed at the door. Tom Crowfoot was just outside the room. He had a scared look on his face, but smiled at us when Chuck winked at him. Chuck said, “Show us where we can get a cup of coffee.”
We went to a cafeteria on the ground floor and bought four coffees. Tom asked, “Was it bad? I go nuts every time a Deputy has to go through that. They won’t even let me attend the panel anymore because I kept telling them what our General Orders are. These people are from the Justice Department, but have some warped sense of how sweet and innocent these killers are. Listen to them go on and on about some guy who got some bruises and scrapes when he is captured after he’s just killed a couple people in the name of Allah, if you want to really get sick of this. One of the Secret Service guys was put on suspension because he was deemed to be too rough on a guy who had just stabbed a mother and her three year old son because she wouldn’t let him get in front of her in line. Both died and the man was arraigned, given bail, and is now nowhere to be found. Two people died and the Agent is now suspended for handling a prisoner too roughly.”
Chuck told Tom, “You’re doing a good job. The Marshals and I think you’re a great link to the field and want you to continue the way you are handling the job now. Chuck won’t be in the field for a while, so no one is going to be breathing over his shoulder. I’m going back to Hawaii for the rest of this week and should be back next week. The ladies are having a great time, but miss all their friends at home. There are just too many of us with too many directions to go in. Tina didn’t get to go with us this time because the doctor she works with is on vacation to Hawaii, of all places. Have you seen much of her?”
“Actually, not at all. I didn’t know she stayed home. I wonder if my ladies know that. Gin thinks that the sun rises and sets on Tina. Nicki and Sheena are almost as bad.”
Chuck said, “She’s still getting over the clinic losing a mother who they found had been a drug user. The baby lived, but now there is a baby who was addicted to drugs at birth who can be adopted. Tina’s been very upset over that. Have your girls get with her to give her some smiles.”
We were able to get a car to take us back to our aircraft. Chuck said he was going back to Hawaii but stopping to pick up Dewey and family. He said, “I would tell you to come with us, but I’m sure you want to spend time with your family. I’ll tell you what my women used to tell me all the time: ‘Learn to duck’.” We shook hands and the man gave me a one-armed man hug before he walked toward the PX2. It’s hard to believe the aircraft will be on the west coast in just over an hour.
I did my exterior inspection, had my fuel replenished, and prepared to leave. Getting out of DC airspace always requires some moving around. I ended up having to fly almost fifteen miles out over the Atlantic before I could turn to fly home. I had called Kissa to see if there was a courier package I could pick up and deliver, but she said that she thought she was covered. We were still at only five thousand feet when my phone rang. I handed the phone to Fran so that she could answer it for me. She wrote some information down, and then told me, “Kissa has a pickup in Atlanta that’s going to Pensacola.” I refiled to Atlanta, which isn’t all that far out of the way.
We arrived at an Atlanta airfield next to their auto race track an hour and a half later. The Jeppesen tower frequency didn’t raise anyone, so I did the usual unattended tower announcement and landed. I taxied up near their operations building where there were two Suburbans with U.S. Marshal Insignias.
There were a bunch of people standing there waiting for us. This could be a problem, so I completely shut down. Fran and I went out to greet the group and learned that this was a military prisoner transfer. There were four prisoners with two guards. The only luggage was the two duffle bags belonging to the guards, both of whom were being transferred to Pensacola. The man in charge of this detail wanted to give me the paperwork and get out of there, but I had to stop him.
“This aircraft is normally not capable of handling more than four passengers. I have two small seats with belts, but they aren’t that comfortable. It’s only a forty minute flight to Pensacola and I have enough fuel to get there, but I will be right at the weight limit. These four are all skinny and your two guards aren’t overweight, so we should be okay with only a half tank of fuel. You need to advise the courier company when you have something like this. We have larger aircraft. Most of our other courier aircraft are larger. These men are all in chains, but we’ll need four sets of handcuffs to anchor the prisoners to their seats. The guards will have to ride in the jump seats.”
The Deputies were able to come up with four sets of cuffs, and I showed them how to use the cuffs on the seat anchor and attach it to the chain on their leg.
One of the prisoners asked if there was bathroom on the plane, and I just shook my head. I pointed to the side of the building and said, “Go water the bushes over there. Any of you others who need to go do it now because I push people out the door at twenty-thousand feet if you pee on my seats.”
The one prisoner who just had to pee really didn’t need to now. It was some kind of ploy he thought he could use to gain control of the aircraft and guards. I pulled my sport coat aside when he said he could wait, and then put my U.S. Deputy Marshal’s badge in my pocket so that the badge showed. Fran still had her badge at her waist, so the prisoners understood that we wouldn’t be taking any shit from them.
It took twenty minutes to get the men in their seats and the additional cuffs on them. Fran and I made sure they were buckled in. I seated the two guards thinking how lucky we were to have the fifth seat option. We were up and down to get to Pensacola, but ended up out in front of the operations building for forty-five minutes, waiting for the Military Police to come for the four prisoners. I kept the APU running so that the air would stay on. Fran found some bottled water in the fridge, so we had some water. I didn’t want to give any of the precious K-cups of coffee away. Fran and I stood over the guards while they were taking the cuffs off the chains and seats. I told the guys giving the prisoners away to turn the cuffs in and log them as Atlanta Marshal Service cuffs.
I only put in a thousand pounds of fuel since we were only going to Tampa. That’s when my phone rang. It was Tom Crowfoot calling. I could tell something was wrong as soon as I heard his voice.
“I need you up on the border in North Dakota, Chuck. I’m trying to send everyone we have open up there to stop what’s happening. Two of our men are dead, and six more are seriously wounded. I know that you’re still hurt and you just went through the torture chamber with those Justice guys. I need you. Chuck is already in Hawaii and wouldn’t be able to help. Nightfox is officially retired now, so I can’t really call on him.”
Fran motioned for me to let her speak since the phone was on speakerphone. She told Tom, “Find Sean McHaffey and Terry Bettendorf. Those were the two others we worked well with in school. They will gladly team up with us if you can find them. There’s another guy, but he’s normally so much of a loner that I don’t know whether or not he would work out.”
Tom said, “I’m looking them up now. Sean is in San Antonio, and Terry is based in St. Louis, but is on assignment out west for training with the Agency. I’ll send both of them to you up there.”
“Where is up there? Where is this close to so that we can set our airplane down?”
“This looks like you’ll be able to go into Minot Air Force Base. This will put you within twenty miles of where these people have holed up. They’re on a wildlife refuge or preserve. I’ve contacted the North Dakota National Guard but they are reluctant. We have twenty men up there now, but no one with combat experience.”
“Come clean with me, Tom. Who are these people up there?”
“I don’t know, Chuck, but I do know that they aren’t nice. The reason we’re involved is some Park Rangers were fired on when they were near an area within the refuge. Those guys are rough and tough, but their reports say that over two hundred rounds were fired at them. It’s our job to protect government employees, so fix this for me. I’ve already advised the board who ripped you up this morning of our need for you and that we had already lost some men, plus all the casualties. There was no return comment from any of them. You know what to do. Capture a couple of them if you can figure out how to, but these people have crossed the line otherwise.”
Well, shoot. I had to get the fuel truck back to top my tanks off. I wanted to call home to find out if a CJ4 was in while we were waiting. It had a longer range and was faster. I would be up there faster in the Phenom even with having to stop for fuel.
We flew to St. Louis, refueled, and landed at Minot late in the day. The folks there were really good about helping us with an assembly area and additional information about the terrain. We were given handheld radios to talk to the field command post. They told me over the radio, ‘Get a truck, or have them bring you in by helicopter. Make sure you bring your equipment. You may need it all’.
We were given a ride on a nice helicopter. I told the officer who was riding with us that two other men were coming in and would need transportation out to us. The office told us, “We are doing a recon flight over the area and should be able to provide more information after that. We’ve dispatched a field kitchen, as well as some field quarters. If the showers aren’t up yet, they should be by morning.”
My thoughts were that I hoped we didn’t run into so much trouble that we were here long enough to become smelly.
The first responsibility of a leader is to bring everyone together so we are all working on the same problem. I talked to every man and woman as there were a couple of females besides Fran who were armed. One lady was a Federal Forestry Agent and was used to carrying a sidearm and rifle. Fran immediately hooked up with her and learned a lot about the operation from her.
I found one of the native Forestry Agents and had him take me through the Refuge to where these people were digging in. This man knew who was foreign or domestic. He said, “There are only about a half dozen Americans or Canadians in the group. The rest are imports and I’ve heard several holler ISIS slogans. None of us understand any of the languages from over there, but most of us have pulled a tour. A guy who is on the ridge watching them was wounded over there, but that won’t influence him. The man will do his job the way you direct him.”
We watched from four different viewpoints and finally went back to the bivouac area. I told Fran that the only way to really destroy these people would be a direct assault. I said that it would be easier if we had air support.
One of the local officers asked me what kind of air support I was talking about.
“The forest around these people isn’t dry or fragile. It looks like it was burnt out about five years ago, so it should withstand some heavy action. I’m thinking we drop a dozen five hundred pounders on their central area and strafe the shit out of them from the center out. We should kill off most of them and we can then do a mop up. We could have heavier resistance if they have dug in, but it would be lighter than if we were doing a straight-up assault.”
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