Chapter 3

It was a long evening of mediocre baseball and watching suits try to impress me. We all returned to the condo afterwards. "So, is that what I can expect for the rest of my life?" I stated.

"It could be worse; it could have been one of those rubber chicken dinners. At least the food was good," replied Carr.

"I guess. What do we have planned for tomorrow, Jocelyn?" I asked.

"We are going in to DC. Firstly to sign for your accounts and then we have an appointment to see Senator Mitchell," Jocelyn said, "After that we can do some shopping and maybe see some of the sights."

"Shopping?" I asked with a groan, "What do we need to go shopping for?"

"You need a few more suits and some sport coats. Also, because of the change in your summer plans, you need shoes and some more changes of clothes. And I know you probably can't wait to try out your new credit cards," Jocelyn stated in a matter a fact tone.

"By the way, Jocelyn, where are you staying?" I queried.

"Well, I live two floors down in the building. Most of the tenants here are associates and paralegals. The firm leases to us at a discount. The married associates and partners are in houses that the firm has helped them purchase. Your uncle and grandfather thought it would be better if employees didn't have to worry so much about where they were going to live. Carlucci Enterprises and J&J own six buildings in and around DC," Jocelyn explained.

"Well it makes sense," I said with a shrug, "It's been a long day, I'll see you in the morning. Good night," I said as I stood to leave the room. Debra and Jocelyn gave me a kiss and I got a round of good nights from every one else. I then headed to the comfort of my bedroom.

I was asleep before the sheets settled on me.

"JJ, you got any more of that shit with you?" asked Jackson Reese.

"No man, your girl just snorted the last of it. I need to get some more. Right now I just have to get that kid off my mind."

"What kid?"

"The St. John kid, the one who's trust fund I was using," JJ Jr spat.

"What happened," Jackson asked.

"The little shit walked into the office. He had that little mouse Jocelyn following him around and acted like he owned the place. I would have told the little shit off, but his two bodyguards were there and I don't need that kind of heat right now."

"Hell, that sucks, what are we going to do about it?"

"What I would like to do is kick his ass. Maybe even stuff him full of junk and get him locked away. That would solve a lot of my problems with the cartel." Out of the blue the sound of 'don't cha' was emanating out of JJ Jr's coat, "Hang on Jackson."

"Hello."

"When can we expect the payment, Mr. Jeffries?"

"Soon, I am negotiating some new financing."

"It had better be soon Mr. Jeffries!" Click.

"Shit! Shit! Shit! I don't need that accident to happen. Damn it!"

"Who was that, JJ?"

"Just another prick ready to screw me. Come on, Jackson, let's go back downstairs and find some candy to play with."

"Lead the way JJ"

There was an angel in my dream singing beautifully, but I couldn't pinpoint the source. I opened my eyes and saw Natasha laying out some thing on my dresser. She was the source of the voice. This morning, I noticed, she was wearing a black pants suit with a white blouse and heels. In all the time I had known Natasha, I had never seen her in heels. Hell, I'd never seen her in a suit or heard her sing either.

"Natasha, what's that you're singing?" I asked in a sleepy voice.

"Just song I sing to my babies."

"Your babies?"

"Yes, my babies," as she held up her two Skorpian MPs.

"Oh those babies," as I laughed.

"Why are you and the babies in my room at an ungodly hour," I asked?

"Just watching over you. Like I promised Joe I would."

"I'm not sure I want a roommate. Though you're not a bad one to consider."

With a throaty chuckle she spoke, "I was also making sure your children were stowed and that you had been taking care of them."

"I didn't bring them Natasha. I left them at Uncle Joe's house in New York."

Natasha turned and in her hand was a flat black hard case. She slowly opened the case and inside was not my Glock 17, but Uncle Joe's twin Glock 23s and his customized Glock 22.

"Joe said he wanted you to have them." "I would prefer if you carried one of them, please." "Don't worry about permits that's been taken care of."

"Natasha, is it really necessary for me to be armed?"

"Both Keller and I think it would be best."

"All right for now, but I don't like it, Natasha."

"Good, now that that is settled we have shopping to do."

With that Natasha almost skipped out of the room. Things are getting weird around here, I thought to myself. I got out of bed and into the shower in record time. When I got back into the room I saw that Debra had struck again. A pair of Old Navy OD green cargo pants lay over the butler. Hanging on the stand was a navy blue polo and my gray sport coat. On my dresser was one of the Glock 23 in a shoulder holster. While dressing I checked the Glock to make sure it was fitted correctly and on safe. Once I was for certain I walked out to the kitchen. I found Jocelyn, Debra, and Natasha eating nuts, berries and twigs.

"Good morning, Cam," smiled Debra.

"Good morning, Debra, good morning, Jocelyn, and thank you, Natasha, for the morning serenade."

Natasha just smiled and continued scanning a section of the Washington post.

"Morning, Cameron, we have to get going after you eat that carnivore's plateful that Liv made for you."

I looked over and Liv was standing behind the counter with a platter of sausage, ham, scrambled eggs, hash browns, and sliced grilled tomatoes with mozzarella cheese.

Taking my seat I said, "Liv, that looks fabulous."

"Thank you Cameron." Carr said I shouldn't feed you kibble if I could help it," Liv said as she smiled. Debra turned a bit red about the ears.

"That cave man is going to end up eating grass they way he's going," fumed Debra.

"What cave man?" came from the doorway as I turned and saw Carr, "I have not used a club in at least a year, Debra dear."

I decided now would be a good time to eat, so I made like a marine and dug in.

During the ongoing squabble about Carr and Debra's versions of a diet, I destroyed the piled plate of food. When I looked up, Debra was held tight in a behind the back bear hug, with her hands caught in Carr's. He was nibbling on her ear lobe while whispering in her ear. Knowing Carr he had lost the argument but kept Debra.

Jocelyn looked at me and said, "All right, you look finished, Cam. We have a busy morning. We have to go by the bank to set up your accounts along with picking up your cards and checks. We will have to hold shopping till this afternoon since we are scheduled to meet the Senator by 11."

"Why are we going to see the senator?"

"Well, he and Fran are family friends. His committees control a lot of the projects that C&C work on. Plus he was a friend of Joe and is Fran's husband."

"Ok. Then I'd better put the Glock back in the case. They are a little paranoid about guns up on the Hill."

Natasha broke in, "Actually they're very paranoid. We will leave it with the capital police when we get there, just in case."

"Oh yes, Cameron, Carr and I have to go over to the Maryland side. We have to take care of some business. So it will be Jocelyn, Natasha and you."

"Ok, I guess that means Natasha's driving."

"Yes, she will be," stated Debra,

Carr broke in, "But you'll be taking the MULE in. The Senator wanted to see it."

The MULE is a high mobility wheeled vehicle design that Joe and Carr had come up with. It filled a spot between the Hummer H-1 and the venerable deuce and a half. It had more power and load capability along with better survivability traits than a Hummer. It was currently in trials with the D.D.D.A. It looked a bit like a Hemett with its under cab engine and crew compartment. Joe and Carr had designed it for multiple uses with many different configuration 'shells'. Its big brother, the OX, would hopefully start replacing the deuce and a half and five ton trucks soon, since it had already passed its survival trials. Those were two of our big-ticket contracts currently. We also had several more combat vehicle designs waiting for preliminary approval. All of them would make C&C a very profitable company if they were well received.

Carr stated, "We have a MULE A in the garage. It is done up a lot nicer than the field or Baja model though it still has the same basic guts. Senator Mitchell wants to see it up close before the trials finish. He wants a different perspective on the applications."

"Great, so not only do I have to go up to the Hill and see the Senator, but I have to play salesman too."

"Only a little. He wants to see it with you, Joe or me. Because we all worked on it. The MULE D is at Aberdeen and they have mucked up the turret again so I have to go sort it out. Therefore, I'm afraid, it has to be you, Cameron, my boy."

"Can I at least have the grenade launcher?"

Debra fielded that one in no uncertain terms, "No."

Carr laughed, I pouted, and Jocelyn just looked scared at the thought.

"All right little doggies, head 'em up and move 'em out," laughed Carr.

We all took the elevator down. Carr and Debra got off at the street-level garage. We waved and said good luck. Natasha pulled a key card out and swiped it and we descended another floor. When the door opened, I saw four MULEs parked on the right side. They were painted in a gloss black with presidential tinted cab windows and the C type hardback shells on. Stenciled at the midline, in white block lettering, above the shell/bed interface was C&C security. On the left side of the garage was a sand colored MULE A with its waterproof canvas cargo cover on the bed. We walked over to the MULE and Natasha hit the key fob. We heard the click clack of the door lock. I opened the door for her, while toeing the step up out from the stowed position.

The interior of the MULE was done in tan fabric on the seats. In side there were four seats. The nominal fifth had been removed for comfort, since it was unnecessary. In the front half of the cab was the driver's seat separated by the transmission/ engine hump from the passenger seat. In the rear half, were two rather large captains chairs on swivels. Compared to the Baja version we had built two years ago, this was very spacious. Between the captains chairs was the cargo door. Depending on the configuration, it could allow communication or movement between the crew cab and the payload bed. Installed here was a sliding door/ window. At over 2m high and almost 3m wide, I don't think the Hummer had any fear that the MULE would be taking over as a suburban warrior vehicle. It would, as Joe and Carr had proven in Baja, be a very useful field tool for researchers, law enforcement and, hopefully, the military.

Natasha took the driver's seat. I offered Jocelyn the passenger seat, but she instead sat down in the driver's side passenger's position and proceeded to strap on the safety harness. I took the passenger position and followed her lead. When Natasha pressed the ignition, the MULE had a low murmur of muted power. We exited the security garage to the street level. From there Natasha head out towards my new bank.

"Cam, what did Carr mean you helped build this?" queried Jocelyn

Before I could answer Natasha started, "Two years ago, Cam helped Joe and Carr build a rally version of the MULE for the Baja race. Just like the American general team did with the Hummer. Cameron laid out the seating design along with helping in the fabrication of the entire vehicle."

"Why would a weapons company enter a vehicle in a rally race?" asked Jocelyn.

I jumped in, "The Baja race is one of the toughest off road torture tests of a vehicle. Back when the Hummer was being developed, they tested it on the Baja! It's become kind of a gold standard for field design. The year Joe and Carr ran it, Cadillac Gage and one of the European consortiums had entries also. There has been talk of a military class being considered."

"That just seems kind of silly.'

"Considering the Baja race is far tougher than others due to its speed and terrain. It is a pretty fair test against what others have done. The race includes everyone from do-it-yourselfers to corporate engineered super vehicles."

Natasha carefully navigated the huge vehicle down the streets of Alexandria and into the crowded streets of Washington D.C. Jocelyn directed us to a brownstone business district. She pointed out a private bank called The Shippers and Traders Mutual.

Inside we were treated well and our business was conducted quickly. The bank had incorporated around the early 1800's. Originally it was a private bank established to hold escrow deposits on shipments during the days of sails and steam. Over time it became a private bank that handled corporate and national banking needs in the states. Joe had set up his accounts there after the first contract with the D.D.D.A. When I left I had: corporate checks, personal checks, an ATM/check card, a corporate MasterCard and a personal Visa card. The manager reminded me that the escrow boxes I had inherited were being transported to the bank. Jocelyn said we would be back when they arrived.