B.J.Jones the Story of My Life - Cover

B.J.Jones the Story of My Life

Copyright© 2012 by jballs

Chapter 442

Ex-Military Sex Story: Chapter 442 - This is the story of the life of Roberta Josephine Jones. Shortened to BJ by her friends. From the battle fields Afghanistan with the Marines, loss of her life time friend, with flash backs to her wild youth. After the Marines she must find her way in the world. The early chapters of this story includes incest, les,rape and other adult themes. I plan for this to be a multi-part serial. This is my first attempt at writing. Much of the sex is in the early chapters changing to action and drama.

Caution: This Ex-Military Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   mt/ft   Fa/Fa   ft/ft   Mult   Consensual   Romantic   Heterosexual   Fiction   Nudism   Slow  

On the flight to the embassy, “This is most likely the last time I am going to be able to personally participate in deliveries to Nimule; I guess it will be your option how involved you actually are at going to the camp.”

“I know from the feedback I have gotten that Washington likes the PR. My men have said they would continue unless I directed otherwise. JBG intends to stay active in seeking donations and getting the items to Nimule,” I said to Bernardi.

“As long as there are things to go there, I will be involved,” he replied.

With my portable office in hand Vicky and I went to the communications room to start on the business of today. When Andy and the SUVs arrived, they were going to take the guests on a tour of Kampala.

First was a SVOL to Jenny, Ching Lee and Jason to get things in the works for Monday; they needed to decide who and which attorneys were going to Minneapolis. That call lasted almost an hour.

Then I called Cindy for an update on the rest of the embassies. The South American embassies had finalized the paperwork to send to Victor with their request for JBG security. ‘Good Luck with that, ‘ I thought.

Then I called Marcy’s office, her administrator said she and Lorrie had left early this morning for the west coast. I had forgotten that 2 PM in Kampala was 7 AM on the island and if they left early, that meant 4 or 5 AM.

Lorrie had been next on my list but I would wait on that. Then I thought better of waiting; after all the C5 was part of her business group.

I made the call to her cell and relayed the conversation I had with Adam; everything except the part about the kind of weapons they suspected they were transporting. I was positively sure that was super top secret.

Ambassador Bernardi had gone with the group to be tour guide. I had given Robin, Rachael, Vicky, Hanna, Sylvester and Phil each five hundred in twenties so they could get some souvenirs for family and friends if they wanted.

When the trip was laid out, there were no openings for a sightseeing tour of Kampala, but with the change to split up the food we had brought into three shipments two weeks apart, we had gained a full day and a half that was open

I gave them a few quick words of wisdom for carrying cash in rough foreign countries and bad places at home. Never carry all your cash in one pocket. Split it up between two or three; that way if someone tried to rob you, whatever pocket you pulled cash from they would assume that was all and run, or you simply handed them the cash out of one pocket. You would lose some but not everything. A pickpocket would be the same way, as soon as he found cash he was leaving; he was not staying around to check other pockets.

That gave me time to visit with the group here at Kampala; they had been brought in piecemeal. There were fifteen after the attack then the rest on the day I left. A little face time was due. I spent time with all the men and ladies who were not in their bunks.

I expected it to be dark when the group returned. The delay would give me time to start on preparation for Monday’s inquisition. Robert had loaded the same files that the Minnesota State Police Office received onto a large portable hard drive.

I had video that the State Police did not have and that was the thermal imagining videos. I flipped back and forth between those and the surveillance cams.

In the communication room I connected the equipment together to use the big 6 x 8 foot flat screen so I could get a good look at everything. With a notepad at hand I started watching, starting with the west cameras.

I knew the three ladies and a man working the security console would be cranking their necks to look, but it really didn’t matter. They worked for me, were seven thousand miles from home and had also signed secrecy oaths.

12:45 Diya drove into the west entrance and the two women exited the SUV and loitered at the entrance.

12:55 they started walking towards the entrance.

13:10 the women had walked to within fifty yards of the building when they were challenged and blew themselves up. Fifteen minutes to blowing yourself up. What in the hell did they think about in those fifteen minutes? How do you convince yourself to do something like that?

13:12 the thermals showed they were wearing vests and two of my men challenged them.

13:13 the first one stumbled and exploded causing the other to detonate. I watched the video one frame at a time, trying to see why she stumbled.

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