Chapter 13

Sunday is the day most of our employees take the day off, myself included. Moira and Dahlia are at church while Kim and Carol are hanging out with me, relaxing in our living room.

In many ways, I am proud of my girlfriends. I thought that dating one girl this young would be a nightmare, with the immaturity and catfighting. I learnt in my first life that kids want to be treated as adults, and when you do so, they act a lot more mature than they would otherwise. They don’t want to lose the respect that you show them. Even this isn’t enough to explain the maturity my girlfriends have shown.

I’m reminded of times long before we were around. 14 was considered an adult. If a girl wasn’t married by then, they were considered an old maid. Like people of an earlier time, my girlfriends have been forced to live in an adult world and grow up sooner than a typical modern child. Some of them since before I came around.

There is one more factor I am interested in. I told Dahlia that extreme intellect could bring about a type of maturity, even though it is somewhat callow. The way they have handled my businesses makes me curious about their intellect.

There is also the fact that I spent my first 69 years alone. I recognize that I am willing to put up with a lot more than a typical 70-year-old or even a 15-year-old, simply because I know what it is like when nobody loves you, ever. Whatever the cause, I’m happy that we all get along so well and don’t get on each other’s nerves.

While I am thinking about how proud I am of my girlfriends, the other half of my brain is thinking about my plan to rescue the girls being blackmailed. The two thoughts merge and I realize, I’m not willing to risk anything happening with my relationships.

As my plan is now, I will infiltrate the group of boys that are blackmailing people. If things go wrong, I could go to jail with them. I’m no longer willing to take that risk, even though I would be tried as a child and only receive a year or two. At their age, two years is forever.

Getting Devin and Deborah to plant the idea of recruiting me will not be a waste. It will make it easier to extract information from anybody else if we need to chemically interrogate someone else.

I can’t do the DNA trick again. The lacrosse team being gay can be dismissed as a fluke. If I were to do that to the basketball team, people would ask questions and start looking into it. Granted, nobody would know what they were looking at even if I showed them what I did.

I come up with a quick and easy plan, but I am unsure if it will work. In Canada, a firefighter or policeman can search your home without a warrant if they have probable cause of a crime in progress or imminent threat, such as a fire. The plan is simple enough. Find a firefighter in the local station that is related to any of the girls in our school. Let him know what is happening to the girls and where to find the evidence in the clubhouse. Then one night, while he is working, throw a smoke bomb into the storage room where the recordings are. The firefighter can miraculously find the evidence while he is investigating the fire.

The problem with that is in the men that are in charge. I don’t know who they are, only that they have more influence than a high school principal. What if one of them can make evidence vanish? What if one of them is Crown Council and can make charges disappear? I need to find out who the adults are that are involved. Failing that, I want a copy of all the evidence in their clubhouse to ensure it is dealt with appropriately.

You can’t blame me for having my mind wander like this as I hang out with my girlfriends when they insist we watch the latest tween movie. I would have thought they would have grown out of such things, but it is a small price for me to pay. Besides, it gives me time to think of something besides work.

I am in deep thought, thinking of these things when I notice I am being kissed. It is Moira that takes me out of my ruminative state, kissing me hello as she just got here from church.

One of the things I love about my girls is that they understand that I often have something on my mind that transcends this timeline. They have grown used to me zoning out in deep thought and don’t get upset by it as long as I don’t do it at an inappropriate time.

Since what the girls are watching holds no interest to me, I head to the kitchen with Moira. She is the one that usually cooks Sunday lunch, and I figure it is an excellent time to bond with her, helping her make the meal.

I don’t have time to stick around and eat it. As the girls start heading for the dining room, I tell them, “Sorry, girls, but I promised to test our bodyguards’ effectiveness. I have to go. If they ask, tell them that I said you couldn’t let them know where I went.”

“Where are you going,” Moira asks.

“That is for them to try and find out. If one of our security starts panicking, thinking they will lose their job, let him know it is just a test, and he isn’t in trouble.”

Sticking a little lunch in a backpack, I head out the front door, which is rarely used. Apparently, the hinges need oiling, so I am forced to dive into the ditch before one of our security can come around front to see what the noise is.

As soon as he is gone, I quickly cross the road and head up the driveway across the street. The yard covered with trees, and the driveway is hidden from our property, so I am not worried about being discovered.

In my first life, I used to come over here to play with the daughter of the family that lives here. Since I moved to Victoria, I have neglected to do so and figure this would be an excellent time to rectify that.

The house is much newer and nicer than ours. The main floor is also almost three times the size, and the house is two stories with a basement. I never thought about it before, but these people might be rich. They have such a big home, but only four people live here. They also have horses on the property, and they aren’t cheap, especially given they are high-quality Morgans.

Moments after I knock on the door, Mrs. Kearney answers, saying, “Well, if it isn’t Trent. I was wondering how long it would be before you paid us a visit.”

“It is a two-way street, Mrs. K. I have been here for almost a year, and the only time I saw any of you was at the funeral.”

The mention of Gran’s death has slightly deadened her mood.

“I’m sorry about her passing. How is the family dealing with it?”

“Sam found the perfect woman, and she has done a wonderful job holding the family together. Personally, between my girlfriends and my business, I haven’t the time to think about it, which is probably why I don’t visit. I don’t have much time. Is Chloe here? Can I come in for a bit?”

“Oh, sorry. I suppose I should go get her.”

In the past, every time I walked up their driveway, Chloe would be outside to greet me before I reached the house. I have never actually seen inside, and I have rarely seen her brother. I know he and my sister used to visit often. I think he figured he was too good for me. I never cared. I always had enough fun with Chloe, though our relationship never passed that of friends. She is a good looking girl. We just never clicked.

As Mrs. K turns to head back in the house, she holds the door open and directs me inside, saying, “Make yourself comfortable.”

“I haven’t actually been in your home before. I wouldn’t know what to do besides wait by the door.”

“Don’t be silly. The sitting room is through there.”

I do as directed and take a seat on a couch. A couple minutes later, Chloe enters from the opposite direction, saying, “So you finally decided to come for a visit.”

“I know. I’m sorry. It just seemed like I always had something to do. First, it was getting settled, then those kids tried to kill me, Gran died, then it was summer, and I was spending all my time building my businesses and training with my cycle team.”

“I saw that. You did well with your cycle team. Everybody is still talking about it. I was just sad because you hired all those girls as models, and you didn’t think of me. Am I not pretty enough?”

“Ha, ya, right. You know that isn’t it. You are as beautiful as one of my girlfriends.”

“What is up with that? Four girls, really?”

“I would like to continue with the banter and get to know you again, but I need to explain somethings to you, and I don’t have much time. Speaking of which, can you phone for a cab and have them arrive in 25 minutes?”

“Just a sec.”

She leaves and comes back a minute later.

“They are backlogged and might be a couple minutes late.”

“Good enough.”

“So, what is it that you want to talk about?”

“Since you started in Belmont last year, you probably know that there is something fishy with the jocks.”

“They are a bit perverted for my tastes. I tend to stay away from them. I wish Finn (her brother) weren’t one of them. He has turned into quite the douche in the last few years.”

“It is a little more than that. The reason I haven’t said hi to you at school is because I don’t get along with them, and they would go after you if they knew you were my friend.”

“They aren’t that bad.”

“It was them that tried to kill me, and they did it because I was warning girls and telling them what to look for to avoid date rape drugs.”

“No shit. You don’t think that Finn has anything to do with it, do you?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen Finn do anything, but he is a jock and hangs out with some of the boys I would warn you about.”

“Who should I worry about?”

“I wish I had the time to tell you everything, but for now...”

I go on to tell her about avoiding date rape and their blackmail. When I am finished, I ask, “Can you please tell Cristyn and Gwen Jenkins. I feel bad never talking to any of you at school.”

The Jenkins sisters live next door to me. I always wanted to hang out with them. It doesn’t hurt that they are gorgeous. The problem is that my sister always ran over there every time she thought I was going to. She did everything she could to ensure I couldn’t do anything with any of her friends. Thankfully, whenever I went to the Kearney’s, Finn would always distract her, and I hung out with Chloe.

The taxi shows up, and we say our goodbyes. Five minutes later, I am at the ocean side property, eating my lunch. As I finish, Victor pulls up in one of the SUVs. He steps out and greets me, “You passed the first part, but it looks like you failed the second.”

“How so?”

“You beat me here, which is good, but you don’t have the appropriate gear or clothing.”

“Open the back of the SUV.”

“What?”

“Just do it.”

Walking behind the vehicle, he opens the hatch and sees my military issue duffle bag.

“How did you know which vehicle I was going to bring?”

“I didn’t. Last night I made sure that each of our vehicles had a bag with gear in it. I took a gamble that you weren’t going to take a motorbike since you need to transport me to the range.”

“I guess we are doing this after all. How about I run you through a bunch of drills, and we will go from there.”

I chuckle, “I know you were 16 Air Assault brigade, Pathfinder Platoon. But the guy that trained me in stalking was Gurkha trained. Let’s make it interesting.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“How about a real-life scenario? You play a guard, and I stalk in to kill you.”

“Sounds fair.”

“Ok, I will be coming from the gravel pit, so that is the direction you will focus on. You stay on the cleared land as you patrol this side of the property.”

I pull out two paintball guns from my bag and give him a rifle style with a big hopper for a magazine. Mine is a pistol with a 10 round clip.

“To make it fair, you get as many rounds as you want, and I only have ten. After we start, you can shoot me at any time, at any range. If you can shoot me before I shoot you twice, then you win. I have to be within 30 feet to shoot you. I will count to five between shots and have to hit you twice to win.”

“Are you sure you want to do this. Pathfinders are no joke.”

“I remember one time I was making fun of the Navy Seals, and a buddy in JTF2 chastised me. He said, ‘It doesn’t matter what unit a guy is from, if he does the job that we do, you have to give him respect.’ I know what a Pathfinder is. Let’s just say I would pick you over a Seal any day, and I have a lot of respect for your training and skills. You also know what a Gurkha is. Either you think I am lying or you know this will be a fair fight.”

“And just who do you know in JTF2.”

I laugh, “You know better than that. I can’t name anybody in JTF. They don’t have names on their ID or uniforms for a reason.”

In truth, the guys I knew in JTF2 were from my first life, and they aren’t in the military yet. Before I entered this body, it had already started stalking training. I was in the Royal Canadian Army Cadets. It is an organization that teaches 12-18 year-old kids army skills. Think of cub scouts with a militaristic theme. One of the older kids spent a summer competing in sharpshooter competitions in the UK. Whenever he wasn’t shooting, he was hanging out with the Gurkha, training with them. He taught us everything he knew when he came home, mostly fighting, bayonet fighting and stalking.

Let’s just say that a few of us got so good you could step on us and not know we were there. I remember one time when I was camping with the Cadets, and we played one of our usual war games. A kid from the opposing team stepped on my hand, not knowing I was there. When I grabbed his ankle with my free hand, he shit his pants and jumped higher than I had ever seen a human jump before. Needless to say, that counted as a kill.

I grab my bag full of gear, hand him a box of 100 paintballs, and head for the pit.

“How do I know it’s game on,” asks Victor.

“When I am ready, I will whistle.”

Before long, I am changed and ready to go, so I whistle. I know Victor is not a rookie and knows to stay vigilant, but stalking is a game of patience. The person that grows board first loses. I remain in the pit and put on my face paint and ghillie suit.

Like I said, patience wins in stalking. Ever so slowly, I crawl forward, never moving when he is looking in my general direction. Victor truly knows his stuff, so it takes me over 90 minutes to crawl less than 50 yards. I was going to be a smart-ass and crawl past him to shoot him in the back, but it was taking too long.

It is nice to see him taking random shots at things he thinks are moving. A couple times, he comes close to hitting me. The game is almost three hours old when I take my first shot. I time it perfectly, so he is looking away and doesn’t know where I am. He gets off a round, but it hits 20 feet to my left. He is looking right at me when I shoot him in the chest.

Victor lowers his weapon, saying, “Shit, you have skills. I was expecting this to last all of ten minutes.”

“We better pack up and get to the range before it closes.”

When we get to the range, I admit, “I’m much better with a rifle than I am with handguns. I used to be on the Rocky Mountain Rangers Cadet Biathlon Team.”

It turns out that I am as good of a shot with a rife as he is, but we spend almost 2 hours with the handguns so he can teach me some stuff. Unfortunately, we run out of time and don’t get to the hand to hand stuff, but that is probably a good thing because I don’t want to embarrass him.

It is after supper that Zlata asks a question that perturbs me, “I know you have done a lot for your family, classmates and me. You are a generous person. When will you be turning your generosity to your businesses and help people on a bigger scale?”

“WOW, really!!! Where did that come from? EVERYTHING I have done has been to help people. I needed to make a name for myself in the cycle industry to use that name, making bikes for the disabled on a large scale. Everything I did for the military was to help save people’s lives. You don’t see me inventing weapons. When I heard of Carol’s injuries, the first thing I did was to sink money into research for better medical implants. And, that is just what I have done for select groups of people.”

I can’t tell her that I have a plan to stop the jocks from raping girls. Nor can I tell her how I am working to save the world in the long run. I have already started dismantling some of the super arms merchants before they are created. That is just the biggest of the things I have worked on.

I continue, “What about the things I have done on a world scale? I built lighter, more efficient batteries. Now, SAR (Search And Rescue) teams can use powered equipment where they can’t pack in generators. I made electric motors more efficient, which cuts down on electrical pollution, and I invented frictionless bearings, which can make many things more fuel-efficient, cutting back on exhaust gasses. What more do you want me to do?”

“I was just thinking that you are starting to make a lot of money. Why not donate it to worthy causes or help out directly, where you can?”

“Because if I did that, I wouldn’t be able to help on the scale I intend to. You know that I tend to have multiple reasons for everything I do. Each company I build will help somebody while making us money so we can work on the bigger problems. If I am to give away our money now, we won’t affect change and help on the scale I intend to.”

Millionaires are a dime a dozen. If I give my money away as quickly as she suggests, I will never have the clout I will need. Millionaires only have a voice in the companies they directly influence, whereas billionaires have the world’s ear. The problem with most billionaires is people see them as being the man. You know, the so-called one-percenters that step on everybody. I need to become the man, but in a way that people trust me. Given how many people get offended when you do the right thing, that will be difficult.

There are so many things in the bigger picture that can’t be explained without most people being offended or having them think I am a moron. Take a look at Nike and their child labour in developing nations. Most people believe such factories should be shut down. But if you did that, those children would have nothing to eat, and their families would be forced to move back to the garbage dump, which is the only place they have to scrounge for food. Before you close the factory, you have to strengthen the economy so mommy and daddy have jobs that can support the family. Then and only then do you close the factory. These are the problems I am faced with.

It pisses me off when I explain things like this, and people think I exaggerate or they have lived such posh lives that they don’t understand that such things happen.