B.J. Jones the Story of My Life. Book 2
Chapter 51

Copyright© 2018 by jballs

Action/Adventure Sex Story: Chapter 51 - 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  

It was noon when we landed at Polokwane, but only after calling the men Andy had sent to verify everything was safe. The men were part of the crew that had come with me to kill the Prince. It almost looked like they were riding in some of the vehicles that were used by the Prince’s bunch of derelicts.

They were! After we had killed the Prince, the Saudi investigators had instructed everything be placed in one of the aircraft hangars. After the investigation was completed, the Saudi’s - for the most part - went away.

There were far more important power plays happening in the kingdom than worrying about a petered out mine. That power play led to the decision to sell the property.

The two managers worked together to make the best out of what was left and that was tourist dollars that the tours into the animal refuge generated. It was enough money to support a few dozen individuals and keep enough rooms in the motel in good enough shape for the tour companies to keep sending groups.

We were driven around the airport, looking and inspecting. Then we were driven through a hell hole called the shanty town. It could never be called anything but a hell hole in its present condition.

Every building was dilapidated with some actually falling down. The conditions of many of them were so bad that a match and a gallon of gas was the best solution. Only a few were still occupied.

Women were carrying water in plastic jugs. At the end of every street there was a dung pit. The stench I remembered.

There had been one well for every couple hundred houses, now only one well was operational with a hand pump on it and there was a waiting line.

I had seen all I needed to see. A major change was coming following a bulldozer. It would be a slow process to get started and expensive but it was going to happen. The mines were the key.

The hotel manager was waiting behind the counter of the motel. The place was in better shape than when we were here last. JBG money was already at work.

Daudi Nkosi was the hotel manager. I recognized him from the previous visit and by the glance Vicky gave me, she did to. We went to a side room to meet while a messenger was sent to get Nassor Khumalo from the airport terminal.

Vicky and Marcy had the list that Lorrie and Jenny wanted discussed.

The electricity came in from a line from the south that ran between the two mines. This electricity was totally unreliable, off sometimes days at a time. There was an ancient generator in one of the airport hangars for backup when the power was interrupted.

It could have been from WW2 but I would bet it was a leftover from WW1. The voltage marked on the meter was 230 at 50 cycles meaning nothing of any consequence from the US would work. As small as it was, I wondered how it could power anything.

We would need a newer, better generator - possibly two of them - to be able to reliably make enough electricity to power all the expansion.

We went through the hotel list one item at a time after we looked in every room. The room where I killed the Prince was clean, not any trace of what happened there. Only the images that still made an occasional appearance in my dreams told the tale.

Then two new lists were started, one with things that needed to be addressed immediately and the other was the list with long term needs for the hotel.

Nassor had arrived midway through and joined in the inspection of the hotel and the final discussions for improvements there. After that, we went to the airport terminal.

I sent Jack, Axle and Ellison to go over the hangars, terminal and fuel farm. They knew what I was planning. While they were gone, we discussed the improvements that I knew were coming for sure; radar, runway extension, fuel farm expansion and more hangars.

We called it a day and retired to our rooms. Marcy, Vicky and I went into an in depth private discussion about what we had seen today. I was concerned about the cost of everything we had seen that needed doing.

“BJ, you are missing the obvious. You are thinking of construction costs at home - sixty dollars an hour and higher. Remember the minimum wage here is only one fifty eight. Materials are going to be priced accordingly. The costs are going to be one quarter of what we are used to,” Marcy said.

Marcy was right, I was thinking of costs at home and the high cost when we had sent Bob’s Construction to rebuild the embassy that had been attacked.

It did not make me feel any better. I saw nothing but an enormous task ahead, one I was wondering if it would be worthwhile attempting.

We had supper in the hotel restaurant. One of the hunting parties had returned and was eating there as well. It was buffet style and that gave me some confidence that the food would not be poisoned.

Several of the hunters came over to the table just as we were finishing.

“You are a long way from Washington or France - you must be lost,” one of them said.

“No, I’m not lost. Just inspecting our property and planning on improvements we are going to make,” I said.

“Am I to understand that you own this hotel?” he asked.

“The hotel and everything you can see - as far as you can see - in any direction you look from the roof,” I said.

“You do not recognize me, do you?” he asked.

“No I am afraid not,” I replied.

‘I’m Sam Brothers, my wife is Senator Ginger Brothers of Nevada,” he said.

“OK, you do a much better job than I do of staying out of the media,” I said.

“The Senator is not with you?” I asked.

“No, she prefers the Washington animals,” he said with a laugh.

“Animals they are; tell her I said hello. I may get to see her soon; I have to make several appearances in the Senate in a few weeks,” I said.

One of his buddies took a picture of him with the three of us that I was sure would be in the media before the end of the day.

After that we turned in. Andy had enough men that the plane could be guarded. I was happy about that.

At 0700 we had breakfast then one more meeting. The two managers came to us while we were eating and requested that we see a couple of men who used to manage the two mines. They thought they could supply helpful information about the mines.

Ranako Chetty and Ndale Jordaan were standing by the hotel counter when we met them and were introduced.

The two, Andy, a couple of security personnel went into the meeting room with the three of us and began the discussions.

“Mr. Nkosi indicated that you Mr. Chetty were the manager of the gold mine for decades and you Mr. Jordaan were manager of the diamond mine. I’m hoping that you may be able to fill us in on the history on the mines and the Saudi ownership, if you are willing to do that.”

 
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