Always Finding Trouble - Cover

Always Finding Trouble

Copyright© 2009 by Dual Writer

Chapter 2

Action/Adventure Sex Story: Chapter 2 - Chuck Johnson. his "Job Hunt" over, is now a Deputy U.S. Marshal. His life is pretty complete with his six foot seven, three hundred fifty pound girl friend and a good life. He keeps finding trouble though but battles back against the bad guys. See how he handles several tough jobs without a lot of bloodshed but it can't last. Chuck and friends meet a lot of people you know that live in the area. (Some chapters have more sexy scenes than would be considered "some sex.")

Caution: This Action/Adventure Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa  

The next morning should have been a sleep in day but the phone was ringing by seven. Forest said, "I heard you caused all kinds of problems to a bunch of Arabs on your way back from Belgium. Some big shots from DC are coming down so you better get spruced up and come in. Sorry to short you on some down time, I'll make it up, I promise."

I asked if Bobby should come in and he said she could if she wanted to. We got dressed then called for our stand-ins to come to the house to stand watch. We drove into the office, arriving in time to have coffee and kibitz with Sarah a little.

Bobby and I went over all of the SOP changes and read all the current bulletins. We were initialing the last of the memos when I was called into Forest's office. John Scott, the biggest big shot from DC, was there. I stuck out my hand but the man grabbed me and gave me a hug saying, "Damn, it's been too long since I've seen you. Glad you stayed with us. I've come to save you from the State Department and the press. Seems everyone one of those guys is claiming diplomatic immunity and they are also claiming indignant treatment while they were in flight."

"You are so lucky. Do you know those four cameras were all connected to a DVR that has every scene and every word recorded? You did wonderfully. The senior man on the team didn't know what to do, but you did. Less than a year in service and you took over a potentially very deadly situation. Good job, I'm proud of you."

John turned and introduced his next in command, "This is Chad Hillock. He's the chief deputy that backs me up. He's asked a couple of times how come you're still a deputy after shooting up half the outlaws in the Southeast U.S. I told him that it was all in self defense and in defending your unit. He didn't understand until I sent him through some team training."

Chad smiled when John said team training. "I learned a lot about what you have to do when you have to do it. You personally sort of screwed up the averages for all the men. I do wish to congratulate you that no shots were fired yesterday."

"No reason, Sir, the situation was under control so no further violence was necessary."

John took the floor back, "There will be a State Department guy here to interview you. Just tell them like it was and we'll screen the videos for him. You can show him the point where you decided to take action. I personally think you almost waited too long to act. You were waiting for something more definite, and the screwing on of the silencer sure was definite."

John walked out, said something to Bobby, and came back in, "The State Department guy isn't going to be here for another hour or so, how about let's go across the street to the hotel and have breakfast, coffee, or something."

The five of us went across the street, with John showing Chad all the locations where something had happened and where I had been shot while lying on the ground. He pointed at the steel ramp and described how I had held it over my head while getting into the car. Chad said, "Stuff like that just doesn't happen in the marshal's service. It's been getting worse lately, but the Tampa incidents were the craziest."

John said, "I watched as this guy shot a door gunner on a helicopter right out of the executive suite window. If he hadn't shot the guy, the gunner would have killed a dozen of us. These weren't just criminals, this was a war and we had a veteran."

We ate again, even though we did have breakfast earlier. When we were finished sloshing coffee, we went back to the office to pee and get ready for the State Department guys.

Bobby and I were looking at the marshal's website when four very nicely dressed fellows walked in. They were ushered into the conference room with Forest, John, and Chad, then John came out to get me. I was armed with a copy of my report and the knowledge that I had acted correctly.

The four men were very proper, all blondes, all in perfect suits with perfect ties. I was wearing one of my thousand dollar suits that I only paid a hundred for, so I looked as good as they did. After introductions, the first question posed to me was, "Why did I feel that I had to humiliate the gentlemen on the plane the way I did."

I waited until the speaker had relaxed a second, waiting for an answer.

"My job was to protect the passengers on the airplane. My area of responsibility was the six passengers within the view of my video screen. I observed some covert activity, but continued to watch until I was certain that a weapon was being assembled. I acted immediately to immobilize the men involved and to confiscate the nearly completely assembled weapon. In the process of gaining control of the subjects, one individual made an effort to gain access to my weapon. It was at that point that I pulled my weapon and declared an emergency under 22B of the Air Marshals directives. I handcuffed each suspect and laid them face down on the floor. In the process of searching the next group of men, I found a second weapon almost completely assembled. Fortunately there were no further incidents and the men being detained were seated and further restrained with the available appliances."

"Did you have to search all of the men within the group?"

"I felt that there was sufficient evidence among the men that they were traveling with, that additional searches were warranted. We did find additional unassembled weapons, but could not be sure as to who had possession of them."

Another of the four asked, "Why did you detain the men not in custody after the plane landed."

"When the men in question boarded the plane, each one stored a gym type bag in the overhead compartments. When the men not detained left the plane, none asked for, or reached for their overhead baggage. Upon searching these bags, every bag had some form of weapon or explosive in it. We were able to put each bag with a passenger. I believe Homeland Security secured these people as terrorists."

The leader of the group asked, "I'm told you have a video recording of the complete flight including the detaining and searching of the gentlemen in question."

I asked the tech at the projector to first roll all four cameras at once so the State Department guys can see why only each marshal could only watch one view at a time. We watched the whole thing, and the individual video of all four cameras. It was apparent the men were assembling a gun just before I stepped in.

When the four videos were complete, I asked them to replay video four only, and to enhance the video so it would appear as it did on my small monitor. This time, it was very obvious what the men were doing. It was apparent I almost waited too long to act. John even looked at me a little funny. When it was over I said, "I didn't want to do what I had to do, and almost waited too long to act. If I had waited another minute, the weapon would have been fully functional. Then there would have been dead passengers and marshals."

The State Department leader said, "I want the originals of those tapes right now and any copies."

John said, "We're required to retain a copy for our files and the originals are in the possession of Homeland Security. Copies have been forwarded to the CIA, as well as the FBI. If you wish all the copies you will need the Justice Department to supersede presidential orders."

The State Department leader turned to me and said, "I've read your file and found you to be a danger to the public. I don't know how you can still be a deputy marshal, but I will see that you won't be long."

This pissed me off, so I reached out and took hold of his arm and spun him around to look at me. "I'm not sure what's got you in an uproar, but I've never fired a weapon in anger or in anything but the defense of my men or myself. If you want for just you and me to go somewhere to discuss this, there is a gym downstairs we can chat in. Please reconsider your threat to take my job from me. I'm sure if the situation were reversed, you would be upset as well."

The man glared at me and said in a low voice, "It would give me great pleasure to show you what a man really is. Name the time and the place and I'll be there."

"Like I said, Sir, the gym is available right now and is close at hand."

The man turned to his three cohorts and said, "Come with me to make sure this is a fair contest. I'm going to teach this Neanderthal how a man fights."

The entire office heard the confrontation, so there was a mass exodus to the gym. The gym attendant provided shorts, T-shirts, socks, and tennis shoes. He handed each of us a jock with a cup, then stood watching us dress.

When I dropped my pants and my aluminum leg became evident, the State Department guy smiled with a superior attitude.

We walked out to where there was a ring and I asked the man, "Did you want to use gloves, or be barehanded.

The man said, "I'm used to gloves, but I assume this will be a short street, fight so bare fisted will be fun."

We walked to a large mat, and before we faced off John stepped in. He looked at both of us and said, this fight will continue until one of you cannot get up, is knocked unconscious, or admits defeat. The loser will apologize to the winner for any undue criticism. There will be no killing blows, and Chuck, you will not use your prosthesis to hit your combatant."

The smart mouthed state department guy said, "If he thinks he can get that thing up, he can hit me with it all he wants."

John shook his head and said, "So be it." He paused a second then said, "Go."

The idiot did exactly what I didn't think he would do. He rushed me swinging. I sidestepped him and balanced on my peg leg sticking my other foot out to trip him.

I stood back in a relaxed state and waited for him to roll up onto his feet, shake his head taking on a boxing stance. He kept dancing around about four feet from me so I took a step forward to challenge him. He took the bait and lunged and swung. I sidestepped again, but this time I gave him a stiff hand to the solar plexus. When he bent over from the shock, I almost chopped him, but instead I open hand slapped him, knocking him off his feet.

I stepped back and stood waiting for the man to get his breath and get up.

He finally stood, glaring at me, took his boxing stance again, and began advancing on me this time. I watched his eyes and shoulders and slapped him as hard as I could while ducking his jab.

The slap was hard enough that his eyes were watering. This only made him angrier, so he decided to lead with his other hand and advanced again. When he jabbed, I slapped. When he swung, I ducked and punched him in the chest. I pulled the punch, since it would have been a killing blow if I didn't.

It knocked the wind out of him for a second. I guess he had all he could take as he rushed me again, only this time as he got closer I leaned into him and took him to the mat with a chop to the side of his neck. It was enough to knock him out, but I was still on top of him and had to maneuver to get off him. It was at that point I would have finished a hand to hand combat by a quick heel of the hand to the nose, but I stopped before contact.

I scooted back and stood up on my good leg and my fake one. I said quietly, "I believe your man is knocked out. If you wish to revive him, rub his temples and the back of his neck."

They looked at me weird and watched as John got down and rubbed the man's temples and the back of his neck. The state guy sat up groggily and asked, "Did I win?"

Even the three other state department guys laughed. John helped him to his feet and suggested he go sit for a little bit before taking a shower.

John walked over to me and said, "You came close, Chuck. I'm proud that you were able to control yourself, but you know that wasn't a very fair fight."

"I know, but somehow that man needed to know that you have to fight for your life, not let someone talk someone else into deciding between letting you live or be blown up by some terrorist."

"Go home, I'll make sure the gentleman is reduced within the state department. You did the gentlemanly thing by accepting his challenge."

Bobby told me to go change. "You don't need a shower, you didn't break a sweat."

When I was dressed and walked out of the locker room, Forest came up to me and asked, "Did you egg the guy on or just accept his challenge. I accepted his challenge after I told him it was improper that he threatened to have me fired. There always seems to be someone who wants to fire you for doing what we are supposed to do. If I made your office look bad, I'm sorry; if I've made the marshal's service look bad, I'll resign; but I did what I felt was right on that plane and no one will ever convince me otherwise."

Forest smiled at me, "You did right up there. You took charge and handled it like a true deputy U.S. Marshal."

John came up and asked, "You're not reprimanding Chuck, are you?"

"No Sir, just making sure what he did was honorable."

John said, "It was very honorable. I'm proud to be one of his supervisors."

I said, "How about let's go down to see my friends Reggie and Metarie for a good meal. What do you say? I think I'm good for one tonight. Oh yeah, hang on a sec."

I walked over to the four State Department guys and asked, "We're going to one of the better restaurants in the area, my treat. Would you like to come along, as I said, it's on me."

The three men looked at the leader expectantly as he stuck out his hand, "I apologize for my accusations. You are not a Neanderthal, but an accomplished defender of your country. I would be proud to eat with you but it will be the State Department's treat, not yours."

All of my people had heard the exchange. Well, knock us over with a feather. We all managed to get into a couple of SUVs to go down to the place. I called Reggie's cell phone real quick and asked him if he had a big table for us. He said it was big enough for us, Metarie, and him. He asked if we were in our black SUVs and told me to park in the back.

The evening and the meal was wonderful. Metarie gave Forest a bunch of grief for pulling me off the employment office detail. She said she was still working on getting the right people since I left. The State Department men were able to get a glimpse of what had happened before, and how we had all survived to be better people. By the time we put the State people in a taxi to their hotel, they were toasted and would remember this night for a long time. I took care of the bill with Reggie so the State guy didn't wake up hundreds of dollars poorer.

Bobby and I drove home, with her under my arm next to me. We relieved the guys watching the house, but asked them to stay till morning since we had been drinking and were probably going to be busy a while. They smiled saying they had already planned on staying the night.

Bobby and I enjoyed a few rounds of closeness, wrestling around and having a great time.

Monday morning brought new assignments. Our team was reduced by six guys as a couple had retired, three had transferred to other offices for promotions, and one went to work for the FBI.

Forest was leading the meeting and gave out the usual air staff schedules, saying that Orlando was picking up a lot of ours as we were so short. When he came to me, he said, "Usually we don't send someone out for an escapee alone, but we're too short to give you anyone. I can't send Bobby because she has three transients coming through this week. Chuck, you're going to have to get a line on this guy, and get some local help to capture him. He is considered armed and dangerous. He has been involved with some domestic terrorism groups and has robbed several banks. If you were to keep track of bank robberies, I think you might pick up his trail. Be careful though, this one could get nasty."

I picked up a copy of the file from Sarah. This wasn't a file; it was a whole file cabinet. I glanced through it and took the whole box with me to study it at home. Before you try to track someone, you need to learn as much about them as you can.

In the seclusion of the small office we had at home, I read every word of every piece of paper on the guy. I knew the general area he was going to be in, as there had been several bank robberies with his M.O. in his old stomping grounds.

I called the motor pool and asked for an older pickup truck. They said they had one that was a little beat up looking, but ran like a striped ass ape. The next thing I had to do was to make sure I was armed with countrified weapons. I checked out a Marlin lever action and a real nice 308 with an excellent scope. The last rifle was a sporterized .223 that could hold a thirty round magazine.

Instead of the Glock, I picked a nice balanced 1911 Colt .45. The range officer said the piece was perfect. Three magazines later, I had to agree with him. For fun, I picked up a monster .44 magnum. The thing only held five rounds, but if you hit something when you shot it, it was done. I used up about fifty rounds before my wrist said enough. I was getting fairly good with it, though.

I dug through all my old clothes that I had bought at Goodwill when I first came to town. Everything was perfect for what I was going to do. I needed to look the part so I could fit in.

The guy I was looking for ranged from Northeast Texas, Southeast Oklahoma, Arkansas, and Alabama. His latest bank job was in Alabama, so you figured he was probably in Oklahoma or Texas. I drove up through the areas just to look over the towns that were mentioned in his files.

All of his immediate family had passed away, but he had a mess of cousins scattered around the entire area. Several of his kin were in jail, serving time for everything from murder to car theft. The whole family seemed to thrive on making their hits in small towns. I tracked the bank holdups he had done since he escaped then went back to track the holdups he had staged before he was caught. There was a pattern. He would hit the farthest east then hit one in the farthest south. He would next go to Arkansas and hit as far north as the Lake of the Ozarks. The telling tale was he would go back east and rob a bank there. He only robbed in three directions, so that meant he was probably hiding out in Oklahoma.

Our man had another thing that he repeated. He liked to drive an Oldsmobile. Since GM quit making them, he had to steal older cars instead of new, dependable rides. I checked in with the state police in Arkansas to have them check the surrounding states for stolen Olds. I came up with only seven. All were stolen in North Texas and Alabama. I'd bet they were all stolen by my guy. The latest theft was one that was a lime green. That was ugly enough to stand out.

I drove up into Oklahoma and stayed in roadside inns so I could watch the highways and wander around to some of the honkytonks throughout Oklahoma.

I was driving back toward Arkansas when my cell phone rang. It was the state police in South Texas, reporting a bank robbery in Texarkana, Texas. I was not far from a highway that would come up from there and if I were right, my guy would drive right by me. I drove a little farther to meet him earlier and pulled off under a tree like any good old boy who needed a nap.

Sure enough, the ugly green Olds went flying by doing every bit of eighty-five or ninety heading toward Oklahoma. I took off after him but didn't try to catch up, just to barely keep him in view. I began to think, the Olds probably had the usual twenty-two gallon tank and he probably filled it up before his heist. Considering he was riding the car hard he couldn't have been getting more than say fourteen miles to the gallon. He should have to stop for gas around the Oklahoma state line.

I called the Arkansas state police and the Oklahoma state police to alert them that a bank robber was driving through Arkansas but would have to stop for gas around the Oklahoma state line. I told them I was a Deputy U.S. Marshal requesting assistance.

I put the pedal to the metal and the little pickup took off like a rocket. It was too light to go more than about a hundred twenty, but at that speed, I was catching up quick. We were approaching a small town with a big truck stop that I thought he might use, and sure enough, his brake lights came on.

I called the Arkansas state police to tell them where he was at. They said they had a trooper in the parking area. I slowed to almost a stop looking through the lot but didn't see the car. I was circling when I saw a guy putting ramps up into the back of a trailer. When I drove past the trailer, I saw the green Olds.

I drove on past and parked at the end of the row of trucks and called the police back again, telling them where the Olds was now. I said we needed to try to take not only the truck driver but also the bank robber. They said they wouldn't let the truck out of the lot.

Making sure my forty five was ready, I slipped down the line of trucks, keeping something between me and the cab of the truck in question. I now was next to the truck before the one that had the car in it, and luckily, the engines were off.

I could hear two men arguing about what they should do with the car. One wanted to keep it for another job and the other felt the car was too hot. Nothing was settled, but the latter one said he was going to look for another car. I got a good look at him as he walked away and it wasn't my man. I heard the door to the cab shut and the diesel engine start. My man had to be in that truck. If he decided to leave, the state boys were going to be an obstacle, but when I peeked around the side of the cab, there wasn't anyone in the driver's seat and I could hear music coming from the dog house. The guy started the truck for the air conditioner. I spied some wheel chocks on a big trailer and picked up four of them, setting them in front and behind the front tires of the truck. I next called the police and asked them to converge on the truck. I had checked to make sure there wasn't an escape door on the dog house, so I felt like we had him. When the police were in place, I turned off the fuel line going to the engine. The truck ran for a few minutes before it sputtered and died. When my man got into the driver's seat, he saw a dozen troopers with rifles and shotguns aimed at him. You could see his indecision, but he finally held up his hands.

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