B.J.Jones the Story of My Life
Chapter 364

Copyright© 2012 by jballs

Ex-Military Sex Story: Chapter 364 - 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  

Wednesday was a breeze at KCC, just nothing going on. I had plenty of time to think about how to make the drones more useful, especially if we got all of Africa as Victor had said.

The only problem was half of Africa was at war with itself and anyone who happened to be in the way. I had just finished one skirmish in Morocco that had cost me two men. I did not want that to happen again; that’s why I was pleased with Robert and Burt’s continuous monitoring and the information they were supplying. They had taken on that job with real determination.

They were good at finding groups who were tied to the net. The question was, how many lone wolf and small groups that were staying off the internet were out there would we would encounter?

As my mind wandered and muddled through random thoughts, it finally hit me what was going on with the State Department security change as described by Victor.

The department was essentially doing a tactical retreat in the worst areas by withdrawing its own security personnel and substituting our personnel. They were simply reducing departmental exposure. Now they had 20 or more people at each site. After the change there were five or less - by my estimate - and we were easily expendable, at least on paper for them.

The proof was in the final Morocco report and official cover-up. I cleared that thought from my mind. The solution was to be better prepared than the Morocco embassy was.

I started drawing designs on copy paper - several ending up in the trash before I came up with a design that I liked and thought would work. My dream had been helpful. It was always intriguing how the conscious and subconscious mind worked together sometimes.

I called Robbie first, “What machine shop do you use that can be trusted to make me some special items that would be considered top secret - at least for JBG?” I asked.

I wrote down the name and number. Then I called Kevin and asked the same question and received the same answer that Robbie gave.

“Bay Machine Works makes all kinds of special items for us. Cory Richfield owns the place; he knows how classified things need to be handled. Do you need something built?” Kevin responded.

“Yes! I want to make my drones more useful in critical situations. I need fixtures made for that to happen,” I replied.

“Cory lives in the East Woods development on Woods Road just outside of C-ville; no wife or kids but has a high maintenance girlfriend. He stops in the airport restaurant for breakfast and coffee 6:45 on the dot every morning,” Kevin said.

“I will call him to set things up and you can show him what you need in the morning,” Kevin replied.

“If you would join in the conversation, you may have some ideas that would help. Howie and Andy are away on assignment so I am winging this alone for right now,” I replied to Kevin.

“Be glad to help if I can,” Kevin replied.

Our meeting tonight was a follow-up for everything going on. There were no rush decisions to be made or decisions to made about anything.

Much to Lisa’s dismay, we were home early to care for the boys. They were getting stronger and so were their lungs every day. They were sleeping better and so were we; longer every night. They seemed to be always hungry.

At 6:45 Lorrie and I were sitting with Kevin as Cory Richfield brought his filled mug to join us. A few minutes later Lorrie and I opened the vault door and we walked to the drones on the storage rack.

“So those are the toys that you used in the desert. Very nice - so small and mean looking - no wonder that was over so quickly,” Kevin replied as he was looking at the two gun drones. “I can’t wait until we have time to play with them back at the compound.”

I put drawings that I had made on the shelf and explained them. Cory was sharp and prepared. He pulled out a pocket rule and took some measurements, looked at the drawing several times while making notes on them.

Finally he spoke, “To do what you want we will need to make taller stands to move the device away from the propellers. I recommend that we leave the original stands on the drone. They have a lot of mounting holes in the main frame for different options that we can use. I will make the fixture to hold the device complete with the new height stands. All you will have to do is simply bolt it on,” Cory said then he continued.

“Your note says 100 pounds maximum. What kind of battery are you planning to use in the device and what kind of solenoid to make the drop?” he asked.

 
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