Finding Home - Cover

Finding Home

Copyright© 2010 by Ernest Bywater

Chapter 34

Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 34 - A teenage boy suffers a huge loss of family and starts to coast through life. Events happen to him, and they cause him to learn things and decide to join life again. This is an adventure story, but does have more too it than that. Most of the sex scenes are in the first quarter of the story and contribute to some sub-plots and show changes in Al's behaviour. 280,000 words. It involves sport and school too.

Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Mult   Teenagers   Consensual   Hypnosis   Slavery   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fiction   School   Sports   Workplace   Incest   Harem   Polygamy/Polyamory   Swinging   Safe Sex   Nudism   Politics   Violence  

Tuesday 28th December

I wake up with a nice double armful of lovely girls, as usual. Today it’s Utako and Yuka, they joined me after all the other ladies had worn me out. We get up and ready for the day. Hideko is leading a shopping expedition of all my ladies while Carl and Andre accompany me to the US Embassy to hand in all of the paperwork we have to hand in. We’ve an appointment with a Mr Nielsen at nine thirty, he’s a middle level member of the embassy staff who handles visas.

We arrive early, and we get out of the car at the gate, the Kymao driver will come back for us when we ring him. In the meantime he’ll enjoy visiting some family nearby, that’s why he got this job today. Security is a problem when I show them my passport with the US visa permitting me unlimited entries for a few years. The guard examines it, and he calls his sergeant over.

The sergeant looks at the passport, and says, “Excuse me, Sir, how come you don’t have an entry into Japan stamp in your passport?”

I smile while I reply, “I’ve dual citizenship, and I entered Japan using my other passport.” I get it out to show him the page with the stamp while keeping my thumb over the name. He looks at it, checks photos and descriptions, and nods yes when he waves me through. While this happens Andrea and Carl are showing their papers, and then have a discussion with an officer to get approval to retain their handguns in the Embassy, it’s given because they’ve federal concealed carry permits.

It’s about nine twenty when we walk into the main public area of the Embassy. We’re about half way across the floor of the large open area when there’s some screaming from an area to our left. By instinct we all move to cover while we turn to see what’s happening. As is usual for us my guards are a few metres away from me, so we’re in different parts of the room when we react, so we end up a bit further apart when we go to the cover nearest to where each of us is at the time. I notice the Embassy security detachment are also reacting to the sounds while we move to find cover.

A few people are running across the floor away from the sounds when a single gunshot rings out, and a man shouts, “Do not move, or we will kill people.” Everyone stops. “Those in the open, lie on the floor. We see any guns we start killing people.” While the people lie down Andre kneels down to be almost hidden by the desk he’s using for cover. Carl had been more to one side than Andre or I, so he darted to a side hall when the trouble started. I sign for him to stay there, and to put his gun away for now. I make the same signs to Andre, and he returns his gun to its holster. I stay behind the pillar I’m at while I look into the side area through the space between it and the brochure stand in front of it.

Looking around the room I can see a number of the soldiers with their weapons out while they try to get an angle into the side area where the trouble is. They’ve a bad angle, because their positions were at the front and rear of the main area while the trouble is in an area that looks like a side room that’s had its wall on this side removed. There are a number of seats and a couple of desks there. Four Japanese men are waving guns around while giving orders to a number of hostages. Each also has a child held in front of them as a shield.

I sign for Carl to contact the head of the security team to have them maintain their current position, and not to move forward. I also sign for Andre to keep Carl appraised of what’s happening in the side room. When I do I notice a couple of the Marine guards telling the other troops with them I’m using Special Forces sign language. The most senior I can see is a corporal, and he signs he’ll order his people to hold position while he seeks advice. I sign acknowledgement while Carl speaks to the two soldiers who’ve joined him, and one darts down the hall.

I get out my cell phone to call John on a special open line, he answers, and I say, “John, emergency, US Embassy, Tokyo, four gunmen with hostages, I can deal with this if you can get the local security staff to follow my orders. Please do so.”

He responds, “Shit, OK, will do. Hold position while I do it, if you can. Stay on the line, please.” I don’t want the phone ringing back so I hold on while I hear him walk away. A few minutes later I can hear shouting, and he’s back, “They don’t like the idea of not taking action themselves, but they’ll do as ordered. I told them that we’ve some Special Forces operatives on the ground there, so they’re doing as we say. But please make it come out right, as my arse is on the line with this one.”

“Wilco. We do have special ops people here, Carl and Andre are supporting me. I’ll have Carl liaise with them.”

“Good, Carl was a sergeant, and he knows the drill.”

I look over to the hall again, and Carl is standing there with a very unhappy looking Marine captain. I pass on to him the orders from John by signalling, ‘Sergeant, our op. Locals will get radio confirmation from the General at HQ. You coordinate and organise support. No advance or shooting unless I order it or I’m killed.’ He signs back confirmation while I watch the Captain go white when he realises the age of the person in command. He has a quiet, but heated, conversation with Carl.

After taking a few deep breaths I check the bo-shuriken are in place in my sleeves and collar. I slip a few out of my pocket storage to hold them in my hands in a way they can’t be seen. I take slow steps while I move out from behind the pillar to walk toward the gunmen. One sees me, and he says something to the others, so all four of them turn to look at me.

The leader shouts out in English, with a bad accent, “I said all are to lie down.”

I reply in Japanese, “My honour will not permit me to do that while you hold my cousins hostage. Release them and I will lay beside them. Otherwise I must come and kill you while I rescue them. I do not fear men with no honour who hide behind young girls.”

They all go white at the attack on their honour. He says, “What do you imperialistic American thieves know about honour?”

I laugh, “That’s a question I can’t answer, as I’m something far worse than an American, I’m an Australian and I know honour, but it’s clear you do not.” All four are livid with rage. “Come, there are four of you and you have guns while I don’t.” I open my coat to show no weapons. While I talk I continue my slow walk toward them while I move the bo-shuriken in my hands to have three held ready in my left with the one in my right ready to throw. Now all I need do is get them mad enough to point the guns away from the girls. “I’m metres from you, but I can, and will, kill you all before any of you can shoot me. I know this, because I know men without honour, like you all are, can’t use such weapons properly. Honourable men would train in the proper use of weapons, and not hide behind girls.” Each second sees me a little closer to them.

They’re now so angry two are shaking with rage. Their leader is so angry I can’t understand what he says when he snarls something. All four lift their arms and point their guns at me. I’m of mixed feeling about this, because it’s what I was working for: have them point the guns at me and not the heads of the girls they’re using as shields. But seeing the guns turn my way is not a pleasant sight. I move a fast pace to my right while my arm comes up in a fast swing toward the one on my left when I start my attack. My hand releases the bo-shuriken and moves to my left hand to grab another. The back hand swing sees another on the way toward the man on the far right. I’ve two bo-shuriken in the air aimed at their foreheads before they fire. Four shots ring out almost as one, and just behind the sound is the slap, slap of my two bo-shuriken striking two foreheads. I continue to move to my right while I throw a third bo-shuriken and pass the fourth to my right hand. The slap of the striking dart is just ahead of the sound of two pistol shots. I feel a stinging in my left arm just before I release the fourth bo-shuriken. I duck and move to my left as soon as I let it go. Their leader is the last one I target, and I watch while his hand with the gun tracks further to my right, stops, and starts back, then stops when my bo-shuriken enters his forehead to stop all of his thoughts, permanently. I glance around to see the first two are on their way to the floor while the third is starting to fall.

Now that all four threats are ended I call out, “People, please stay on the floor for the moment. Captain, have your people come in to clean up. Also, I need a medic, thank you.” There’s a rush of feet while the Marines charge around the corner behind me. They slow while they take in the scene, and then some troops rush past to secure the guns and check the people over. I turn, and head for the side hallway.

When I near the hall Carl walks up with a trooper while saying, “Here’s the medical help you want. This is one crazy job I have. We have men with guns, so you send those of us with the guns away to take them on yourself. Are you crazy, Boss, or what?”

I look at him as the medic helps me to remove my coat and shirt. I was lucky, one bullet clipped the outside of my upper arm, taking a sort of long gouge out of it. The wound is only a few millimetres deep, but it goes from just above my elbow to just below my shoulder joint, as I had my arm up and across my body when the bullet went along the muscle. It hurts like hell, but it doesn’t need stitches. A half pace less to the right and it would’ve rearranged my lungs. I left my armour behind today because I’d been warned they wouldn’t let me in the Embassy with it on.

The medic disinfects and bandages the wound while I say, “Sergeant, you know they wouldn’t have let anyone with a gun anywhere near them. Also, I was able to get four bo-shuriken away in the time it took them to fire three rounds. I had two in the air before the first round, simply because they saw me as no physical threat. I had to make them feel they could safely take the guns off the hostages so the girls would be safe. If I’d been armed with a visible weapon that would not have happened. I couldn’t ask you or Andre to do any shooting, because I had no idea how I’d have to duck and weave, so I couldn’t be sure you didn’t shoot me by accident.” He nods his agreement of my assessment of the situation. “Now you need to go to tell the Captain he has to make sure no one has any photos of us and the security tapes are wiped clean. If he doesn’t want to do that I’ll see his next job is security for a penguin colony at the South Pole, just him and his tent.”

The medic glances at me when I say this, and Carl snaps a salute with a crisp, “Yes, Sir. I’ll also get him to clear access to the encrypted line to the Pentagon so you can debrief direct to the General.” I just nod yes.

Pulling out my cell phone I hit speed dial for the number I called a moment ago. John answers, and I say, “Let the General know it’s over and it was clean. I’ll make a full report via the Embassy equipment in a little while.”

He gives a very crisp, “Confirm, job over, clean, full report to follow soon via Embassy equipment.” We hang up.

I glance down at the medic, and say, “I do hope you can write off what you use on me somehow, as you can’t write up a report about it.” He gives me a strange look, “Since I was never here and I was never hurt, you can’t write up a report on my injuries or treatment, can you.”

He gulps, and replies, “Ah, no, Sir. I see what you mean. It’s amazing how much gear can get damaged in field training exercises, isn’t it.”

I make a note of his name while I nod yes, and say, “Good man. Ever been interested in going out for Special Forces or the like.”

He grins, “Yes, Sir. But I need a couple more recommendations by the right people before I’ll be considered.” I smile at him while I nod again.

He finishes patching me up just after that, and Andre walks up with my four bo-shuriken. He’s followed by a sergeant who offers to show us the Communications Center. Once there we soon have an encrypted call through to the Pentagon and on to John, with high level encryption. I give him a full run down on what happened, and he promises to see it’s sorted from his end. I also pass on the name of the medic, and ask if he can see he gets a few good mentions toward his goal. John promises to see he’s put forward, but not until after I get a telling off about them not being called medics in the Marines, and I’m told they’re a Corpsman.

I respond, “John, not having served as a Marine how the hell am I supposed to know that! I promise to try and do better next time, OK. Anyway, it’s obvious from my physical appearance I can’t be a normal Marine officer transferred to Special Forces, so I can be allowed a few such mistakes, can’t I?” He laughs, and he agrees with me.

Paper Shuffler

It’s just on ten o’clock by the time I get to Mr Nielsen. He accepts my apologies about being late due to the trouble downstairs and the clean-up. He accepts all of the paperwork with the cheque for the fees, and says he’ll process it as fast as possible. But he can’t issue temporary visas for Yuka and Utako. After several minutes discussion he tells me only the Ambassador can approve the issue of a visa so fast. When I ask for an appointment he makes a call, and says one isn’t available today. I can see this is one of his little bureaucratic games. The website said the visa can be issued today with the right support and papers, which I have.

When he gives a plastic smile I’ve had it with him. I frown at him, I pull out my mobile, and call John, saying, “It’s Al here, I need to speak with the US Ambassador to Japan today to get an urgent issue of two visas. Can you organise it, or do I have to get up the nose of Madam Secretary of State again.” Nielsen loses his smile at the last comment. John says he’ll make a call, and asks where I am. “I’m at the Embassy, in the office of an officious little turd called Nielsen. I have all of the paperwork and approvals the State Department website says I need, and he won’t issue the visas.” John groans while he works his computer, then he promises to have someone call me in the office. “Thanks, mate.”

A few minutes later there’s a knock on the door, and the Personal Assistant to the Ambassador comes in while saying, “Excuse me, Mister Adams, Mister Nielsen, may I look at the papers in question.” Nielsen gulps when he hands them over.

I reach up to split them up while saying, “The main bunch won’t be travelling for a few weeks and can be processed as normal.” I touch the ones for Yuka and Utako, “These are the two I want the temporary visas for so they can return to the US with me tomorrow.”

He examines them, and turns to Nielsen, “Everything’s in order, why not just issue the visas? Do you know something we don’t?”

“I see no point in killing myself to issue them when he won’t get extra seats to fly out tomorrow. With the trouble at the airport today all flights are full for weeks. If they can’t get seats, why do it?”

“It seems we know something you don’t. In fact, the Ambassador has been trying to contact Mister Adams all morning, because he has a special favour to ask of him.” Nielsen looks very worried. “If you’d bothered to actually read these papers, and do any checks in the system, you’d know Mister Adams flew in a few weeks ago in his own private jet. It’s due to fly in about mid-morning tomorrow to collect him and his party. Now issue the visas, and have everything ready for him by the time his meeting with the Ambassador is over. That should give you about half an hour to get it done.” He puts the papers down, and turns to me, “Mister Adams, would you please come to have a word with the Ambassador about a problem he has?” I nod yes while I stand up.

While I turn away I say, “To save trouble I’ll just leave Andre here so Mister Nielsen can hand him the paperwork when it’s done.” Nielsen is very quick to agree to that.

Extra Duty

After a quick trip up two floors I’m introduced to the Ambassador, he says, “Mister Adams, first, thank you for your help downstairs today.” His Personal Assistant is surprised, and he turns to look at me. When I got hit earlier the bullet made a small entry hole and a small exit hole in the arm of the coat, but it didn’t tear it, so it isn’t obvious.

“Ah, Mister Ambassador, I realise you have to know that, but that info is supposed to be so high up the secret and need to know chains the President isn’t going to be told I did it.”

He’s shocked. “Sorry, I didn’t know that. Anyway, the reason I wish to see you is I hope you can help me with another issue. We’ve a couple of children who need to go to the US as soon as we can organise it, and with the troubles at the airport today we can’t get them seats for many weeks. The three children have dual nationality of Australia and the USA. Their mother died a few years ago, and their father was on duty here in Japan. He died in an accident last week. The nearest relative is the mother’s sister, and she currently works in the Australian Embassy in Washington. We’re trying to find if they have any US family to care for them, because the aunt is the only remaining Australian relative, and she’s already made it clear she doesn’t want them full-time.”

I feel for the kids, and I’m angry at the aunt, hell, she appears to be the only family they have and she doesn’t care about them. I slowly nod, “Yes, I’ll take on responsibility for them. I’ll take them back, but you pass on to the Australian Embassy here, and in Washington, I’m taking on the care and responsibility for the children and I won’t be handing them over to anyone unless I’m happy they’ll care for the kids properly. And they can stuff the laws before I’ll pass them over to child services or someone who doesn’t want them. Do you understand?”

The assistant is surprised, but the Ambassador isn’t. He grins, “The man we never speak to in Washington did indicate you might take that attitude, so I’m not surprised. From what I’ve learned about you I think it’s better for the children you do. I’ll let them know that’s how you feel, because their aunt has already let them know how she feels.” This makes me angrier. “Washington has given me the name of your legal people, and I’ll send them all of the information we have on the children.” I nod my agreement to this.

“Please have them brought to the Nagumi Estate today.”

“If you don’t mind, they’re ready to leave now, and we don’t have any suitable facilities for unaccompanied children.” I nod again, and he takes me down to introduce me to them. They smile when the Ambassador says I don’t like the attitude of their aunt and I’m prepared to be responsible for them on a full-time and long-term basis. I think they’ve had enough of being bounced around between people and places.

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