B.J. Jones the Story of My Life. Book 2 - Cover

B.J. Jones the Story of My Life. Book 2

Copyright© 2018 by jballs

Chapter 109

Action/Adventure Sex Story: Chapter 109 - The continuing story of B.J. Jones and her family. The fight against terrorism and building her unique family goes on. The characters, plot and action are continued from Book 1

Caution: This Action/Adventure Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including ft/ft   Consensual   Lesbian   Fiction  

My G5 with the girls, JJ, RJ, Ziva, Farah, Abra and the three former Mossad agents on board landed at Andrews at three Wednesday afternoon. Driving over and home would all be in rush hour and take hours. With the G5 it was a twenty minute flight each way.

I lucked out packing for the trip; this time the boys did not help me pack, Jenny did. She had an eye picking out the right outfits and matching jewelry.

The flight was a truce with the boys. They wanted to fly with me every time I went somewhere. They could fly to Andrews and back home with the girls. We said our goodbyes in the G5 out of sight of so many people wandering around.

We were parked next to Air Force 2 and that made it very easy to transfer our bags. The extra Secret Service agents I had asked for were waiting in the lounge for me to arrive. There were also two State Department negotiators going along this time.

The long flight gave me more time to review the information and sleep - which I did.

We arrived before daybreak at the Islamabad International Airport and were carried in a motorcade to the Islamabad Hilton hotel. It was in a government protected district, as were the other high end hotels.

Pakistan had had incidents years ago where foreign government aides and influential visitors were killed and kidnapped by various terrorists. They paid heavily to restore international faith in their ability to provide security.

The CIA and Secret Service had scanned the group of rooms for electronic bugs just before we arrived and the rooms would be guarded by the Secret Service the whole time we were there.

Ziva, Farah and Abra were staying in the same room I was. It was a suite with several beds. They were my last ditch security if anything happened. The Secret Service was monitoring the halls, lobby and elevators.

Breakfast was delivered by room service under the watchful eye of the Secret Service and Pakistan security. At 0800 we left in a multi-vehicle convoy with diplomats from the UK and France. The meeting was to start at 0930.

My security insisted that I wear a heavy vest while traveling, even though I was wearing the light body armor under my clothes. We were thirty minutes into the ride when an IED blew up the lead Pakistan police vehicle.

Seconds later the unmistakable swoosh of an RPG blew up the last Pakistan police vehicle, trapping the center vehicles. We were sitting ducks; these vehicles were not well armored. Then the gunfire from AK47s started - there was plenty of it - and it was getting closer. There was no way to tell if they were the Pakistan army or the terrorists.

Radio traffic said there were terrorists in army uniforms walking beside the vehicles, firing into them.

‘‘We have no chance trapped in the vehicles but out there we have a fighting chance,’’ I said.

The Mossad girls and the two Secret Service agents agreed. I ordered a ten second plan.

‘‘The front seat shoots to the front of the convoy and the rear seat towards the rear of the convoy. On three, one, two three,’’ I said.

Ziva, Abra, Farah and the Secret Service all had MP5s with thirty round magazines and I had my Glock with four thirteen round magazines. Out the doors we went.

The terrorists were just four vehicles away of what had been a twelve vehicle convoy. There were six on my side - I went out the right rear door behind Abra. We were shooting to the rear. Ziva and Farah out the front were shooting to the front. The rest of my security and the Secret Service agents went out the left doors shooting.

I took six rounds in the heavy vest from a full auto AK47 from the street before I could put three slugs into him - one a head shot. Then I killed two more on the sidewalk shooting at us.

A few seconds later all the shooting had stopped - the street was clear of bystanders. That told me there was a second attack coming or some of the cars parked were loaded as car bombs.

All my security were bleeding from shrapnel with flesh wounds. Without knowing who to trust, we needed to get out of here.

There were only four vehicles with survivors divided up between the French, UK and ours.

The French were the front most with all living inside, ‘‘Try to push the vehicle in front of you ahead so you can get out,’’ I said.

With smoking tires they gained four feet of room, more than enough. Our four vehicles pulled out running over bodies lying in the way using part of the sidewalk, not stopping.

‘‘Take us on to the peace talks meeting, there is more security there,’’ I said.

On the way we did first aid on our injured with gauze, tape and bandages from the limited first aid kits; enough to do the job, at least temporarily.

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