After the Fall. Number 2 in STOPWATCH
Chapter 4: Suspicion Torments

Copyright© 2012 by Old Man with a Pen

Time Travel Sex Story: Chapter 4: Suspicion Torments - Continuing the story of Wendy and David.

Caution: This Time Travel Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   Mult   Consensual   Magic   Heterosexual   Science Fiction   Time Travel   Humor   Extra Sensory Perception   MaleDom   FemaleDom   Spanking   Light Bond   Orgy   Harem   Interracial   First   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Petting   Fisting  

The first crate, the one that blocked the bathroom door, was full of crushed aluminum cans. Who makes aluminum cans? Who makes beer and puts it in aluminum cans? Ah, Coors ... where is that made?

The cans all had a little lever attached to a stud cast or pressed from the metal of the top on the top of the can that looked like it pressed against a thiner outline etched or machined in the top. As near as I can figure out, you lift the lever which presses against the aluminum inside the etched outline and causes the outline to tear, pushing in. Wow! What a great idea.

Our experience with beer came from the honeymoon voyage on Lake Michigan. Beer came in bottles with crimped on caps and opened with a "church key" that hooked under the edge of the cap and pried it off. There were a few cheap brand beers with cans that had caps like the bottles but these cans? Never heard of it. Hmmm?

Crate number two was full of mechanical drawings of the dimensions of the parts of the AR15's. Well, now we know how they were made. There were drawings of the machines that made the parts, and rolls of developed film with pictures of the process. The crate also held a small box that had the outline of an apple with a bite out of it and green boards with lines and tiny things attached to the lines with really good solder work and thin boxes with ribbons running from the boxes to a green board inside. There was a thin plastic QWERTY set of typewriter keys and a little oval doohickey that had a wire like the tail of a mouse coming out of it. What the hell is this?

Crate three was heavy, lined with lead and had dull grey metal rods in it separated by lead with holes that the rods fit in. Oops! Sealed that one right back up. I know what that is. I bet it would make a huge hole if all the rods were stacked together.

Crate four had old worn-out pistons and cylinders from Pratt radials. Airplane parts, but used. Junk. A second look ... No ... not junk. Platinum. Someone went through a lot of trouble.

Crate five had little one pound boxes of C-4.

Crate six had detonators in little tin boxes for the C-4 and thin black plastic boxes with a number pad and holes in the side that looked like the wires from the detonators fit. Not a clue. It was so small ... hand held maybe?

Crate seven had loose, Winchester stamped, 308 ammunition. it was completely full. A 100,000? Maybe.

Crate eight had 24 Italian BM59's in selective fire compete with cleaning kits, solvent, and spare parts kits. A set of basic armorers tools was included.

The last four crates had new engine parts. Those crates would be closest to the door and first off.

Hold on here, boy. A standard C-46 had the door just in front of the tail on the left side. Our Commando had the door just in front of the wing ... on the right. Most military C-46's had double doors ... ours had a single. The winch in the deck is military, the chain fall and rail is military, all the instruments are military, the roller conveyor is military. This isn't a C46.


Wendy and I are worth, at last audit, 26 million dollars in cash and assets of a further 10 million. When we had the watch we made our trips to the past to find lost money, and buy stocks, but we also bought property ... dirt ... cheap. Farmland, with the taxes paid up until 1962, next year, with gold.

I want my daddy!

Or maybe not. I'm the spare, remember. Daddy was in the OSS, supposedly retired, but he has high-powered transmitters in the basement and Mr ... No ... Colonel ... Medawar knew him, I know he has a CIA contact...

Mother hates the guy. He has no visible means of support but he drives reasonably new cars and he has a big sailboat in Florida. I know his kids, Brooks and Marne ... and they won't talk about what their dad does.

I'm worth a lot of money ... even more dead.

Wendy is worth a lot of money ... dead.

We both have to be dead for the money to pass to daddy. Really, when you get right down to it, daddy has control of the funds because we're minors. Come to think about it, all our purchasing has been done with found money daddy doesn't know about. We just put the leftovers in the bank and he has signatory powers until we're 21.

Daddy uses an accounting firm owned by one of his fraternity brothers ... and they do our bank audits.

Wendy reads minds, but daddy is a lawyer and they are devious. I'm sure, since he's been living in the same house with her since she was 12, that he's aware I hear her in my head. I don't hear him. Wendy hears everybody when she lets them in.

 
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