Chapter 11: Welcome Amigo

Wednesday July 30, 2008

At 9:40 on the appointed day, I watched the screen as the sturdy BMW cycle pulled up to a purple spot - dyed sand - in the dessert. The land was pretty flat and barren for miles around and there were no other dust clouds on the horizon, so he wasn’t being followed. Irene was in a foxhole a couple of hundred yards away from the spot with a one-person Stinger missile and a hand-held military radar/thermal gizmo from her old military outfit, making sure there were no aircraft in the area, hiding in the sun or the clouds. Cynthia was with her, holding a hammer meant for pesky snakes and scorpions which might come by. Cynthia was trying to be brave for her man plus she knew what Tony looked like. She pestered my a lot during the last day, I really could not keep her away from the meet so I put her to use. It was better for everyone that way.

(Stingers, by the way, are hellacious effective and really hard to get. They can drop a jetliner or a helicopter in range near 100% of the time and are very portable for one person to use. The only country in South America that the US allows to deploy the weapons is Chile, and with the help of the CIA they keep a real close track of the little darlings because, as a terrorist weapon, Stingers rank just below nukes and are way more useful than, say, an Abrams tank, which kind of sticks out. However, I must say from personal experience that the system Chile uses to validate enlistees, train soldiers and keep track of the weapons involves humans who are far less than perfect. There are so many vices out there. Also, our own CIA has better uses for their top people than some boring, isolated military base in Chile. I mean, if you say you are “the CIA’s #3 file clerk checker in Chile” who is going to take you seriously? Only the guy who now has a Stinger.)

Also unseen, a trio of drones were on the ground staged near the spot. Tony was early but that didn’t matter, as soon as we saw him I put a drone up and took a good look around just to be sure. His trail was clear. The biggest concern - unlikely but possible - was the sneaky Feds with a bug. But the cheap bugs used by the locals have a limited range and it looked clear.

Next I had to clear any tracking device.

When Tony got to the purple spot there was a box with a letter and a trio of cameras. The sign said, “Sorry Old Sport but I need to check for wires. Please strip to the skin and do a slow 360. Smile for the ladies in the audience, give them a thrill. If positions were reversed you would do the same for me. Then open the box.” He did as asked, he gave the ladies a big smile even it he could not see them. He put his clothes in a bag, and put his pocket stuff - which included a small pistol as well as a collection of knives - all held up for the camera - in a second bag.

Irene admired his knife collection. “Handy.” From her that was high praise.

He was okay about giving up the gun, if I was going to kill him quick he would be dead already. If I was going to use slower methods, he knew the gun would not help. Also, he saw the black box so he knew he was being scanned electronically for a wire he might have swallowed. I don’t take chances.

On the other hand, cops or feds were VERY unlikely to let him have a live firearm. It was a “goodbye pension” type of move.

The box had new coveralls and a military com unit - a top Brazilian unit - one of a group reported lost-at-sea by their people during a rescue training exercise. He figured out the Portuguese and in moments we were talking with no cell phones towers needed and no NSA bandwidth wasted. The com unit was low-powered, frequency agile and scrambled, so it was secure as possible without employing alien tech. I explained some of that.

“Cool. A few of these would be handy.”

“Having one is useless. You and I are holding the only two north of Panama and they have to be synched by a tech. They are a bitch to get, and the techs are even harder. If I use it in LA, eventually somebody living in a basement with no life and a big antenna will spot the freq on his illegal custom-built radio-scanning-computer, gets a chub and starts diddling with his equipment. Then the curious cops and the feds get nosy and it is no better than a cell phone. But as long as we stay under the nerd-radar, it is golden.”

That was not true, they were frequency-agile and scrambled so listening was impossible, they sounded like random static, and tracking was a waste of time. But jamming? That was dead easy. An amateur with a big enough antenna and a computer could do it, killing all of LA for these units until the feds shut him down.

I explained what was next. He was going to walk a thousand paces in any direction, it was heart-heathy exercise. “Take the gun and the com unit, watch out for vermin, then take a seat.” He should take the gun for security, some vermin are nasty. He would watch as one of my guys (in another foxhole) drove off on his bike. It, and his stuff, were going into a cave with a Faraday cage five miles away. After the bike was safely out of sight my people would pick him up. “You will be in a signal-blocking cage, tight but secure. Cynthia will be along, she is anxious to chatter at you, but keep it light. We don’t want to worry her pretty civilian head.” That meant no gang stuff. He understood and was cool.

“Cynthia for company! SCORE! I can’t say I’d be so considerate,” he replied. “Wait, was she watching when I...?”

“Of course she was watching, somebody had to ID you. She found the biggest set of “Panzer Korps” war surplus field glasses she could lay her hands on. I needed someone who knew you ... so now she knows you and the cut of your jib better. It was the princely thing to do. You would if you could but your gang does not have a babe who is close to Cynthia in hotness.” He had heard the term “Prince” before but he didn’t ask.

Instead he kept it light. “I hope she liked the show.”

“You can ask her yourself. Knowing her sense of fairness she might even flash something back at you.”

“Wow! ... Uh, I’m a married man you know.” He had to sound indignant. He was sincere and that was when I relaxed.

“I know your wife’s divorce lawyer, she did not pick him because he was good. Somebody will be dead before you are divorced.”

“Any chance I get to pick who gets the funeral?”

“I will leave that up to you two lovebirds.”

After taking his clothes and his bike my last concern was that he might have swallowed or been implanted with a tracking device. Hence the signal-blocking cage in the truck. The meth-heads taking over his gang were nowhere near that sophisticated, but I knew one or two gangs who could and would. Plus the feds.

All went as planned. After the pickup he and Cynthia had a nice talk during the drive. Which is to say she chattered non-stop about nothing important and he was well pleased listening to a friendly female voice. This time next year they could be family. His current lifestyle did not usually allow such a luxury.

Right off she flashed her nipples for him - they were up and attentive - but Irene said the move looked more clumsy than deliberate. Either way, he saw her pair of niblets and gave praise. Which was her point, actually.

He also praised what Irene was showing.

About two months ago, the night Cynthia gave me her ass for me to sodomize for the first time while her parents watched, I sent her to another bedroom and told her a man would come to spend the night in her bed. Sex was new to her, the scene reminded her more of of “The Story Of O” (actually it was more like the stupid sequel) than she expected. But then so were most other things between us. She did not like me giving her body away, especially without naming the lucky guy and giving her a chance to complain, but she realized that sort of thing happened in my life. She thought it was a test, and she was right. She was barely willing, but she went along. As she waited she convinced herself that I would send Tony to her for a night; Tony’s son Tonto was in the house - she suspected that Tonto and Pammie might be in bed together having too much fun - and she knew I had invited Tonto’s dad. She was not sure about how she would feel about him. He might be her sister’s father-in-law some day. He wasn’t pretty, and he was older than I was. But he was fit and charming and important so she was kind of pre-disposed towards him.

Seeing him doing the “Full Monty” did not discourage her.

But the point was that I got Cynthia focused on him and he stayed on her mind even since as possible “family with benefits.”

That night I actually sent Cynthia’s father Ernie to Cynthia’s bed. He asked (at his wife’s suggestion) about swapping women for a night. He knew his wife had a long-time dream of spreading her legs for Colony Royalty, and I was the most handsome. This way the wife got her fairy tale while Father and Daughter could choose between sexual frustration or the special joys of incest. There was little drama until Cynthia realized that she really liked having her loving, energized father between her legs with good feelings, better intentions and a lot of experience. Once they got over the incest thing (he was snipped so knocking her up was not on the agenda) they made each other very happy several times. They really loved each other, as an occasional and conventional thing. It was easy taking that love to the physical level.

For myself I had always admired Ernie’s wife Belen. Cynthia’s mother was a decade older than me but still sexy and fun. I am not afflicted with the usual American male’s aversion to older females, in the Tribe such things are no big deal. I pleased her. Ernie loved his wife enough that he appreciated that too. The fact that I was screwing the pussy that gave us Cynthia was a nice bonus for all concerned. Being with my grandfather was Belen’s lifelong #1 fantasy, having my handsome self was her #2 fantasy. Everyone had a very good night with wonderful feelings and little sleep.

That was all history. But as a hangover of her intense feelings that night while she waited for “somebody” Cynthia still wondered about spreading her legs for Tony. Now after seeing him in the buff with the giant binoculars she got to know him by letting him listen to her while she took her time looking at him. That makes sense, right? She is still such a teenager.

When he hinted about her “reciprocating the whole show” she didn’t answer because she knew what was coming.

At present, her sister’s plan to marry Tonto was still on track. But Tony’s current marriage looked to end in a bad way so both of them could be without a date at the wedding. I would probably be with at least one of my wives, so Cynthia wondered about being on Tony’s arm, and maybe being happy on something else later after the party, when they celebrated the wedding night. Now the idea of bedding him almost tickled her. She knew my general rule was not to share my toys, but she also knew there were exceptions for family, like her Dad. She was open to this idea. Somehow, between her words the gist of those feelings was communicated between them.

Irene was also with them. When they made the pickup Tony got a good look at her weapon (the Stinger) and it almost knocked him over. Then he took in the Uzi machine pistol at her side, the long Dessert Eagle in her shoulder holster, and the ceramic knife strapped to her leg. He also noticed her customized Dragunov sniper rifle on the rack, it looked very intimidating. Due to the funny laws in the Peoples Republic of California the rifle was the only gun that was legal. Irene likes her toys. When she introduced herself he asked about the Stinger. She said that she normally played with much bigger SAMs, and that this was an older model. “Still, if a helicopter followed you, I would end it.”

“You got that right, big time,” Tony agreed. “I hardly feel I am worth it.”

“Then you and I agree, you aren’t,” Irene said bluntly. “But my Prince is worth far more.”

Tony had heard the term “Prince” often enough but he really had no idea what it meant. The way Irene said it he knew it meant something more important than a casual nickname. Also, having that type of weapon meant she had a story - if she though he merited her breath. She was clearly one of my solders, experienced hard people Tony had seen in very deadly action. What’s more, the way she said it and her scars said a great deal about Irene’s attitude.

Tony knew that such loyalty backed by lethal skills and confidence could not be purchased at any price, only given from conviction. Naturally he wondered at our link.