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

B.J.Jones the Story of My Life

Copyright© 2012 by jballs

Chapter 428

Ex-Military Sex Story: Chapter 428 - 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  

I had been sitting behind one of the cubicles while I was working and listening to the conversation. I stood up just as the movement started towards the meeting room door.

“I would suggest not interrupting their meeting. Follow me back to the other meeting room,” I said.

When I stood up I could see the camera monitor; in front of the security office were two unmarked Dodge Chargers with blue and red hidden emergency lights flashing. I was angry all over again; this was not what Eric and Frank had agreed to yesterday.

“Who are you?” Otto asked.

“I am the boss,” I replied as I picked up my laptop. The smaller meeting room was one that was furnished and paid for by the agency. When this college was set up it was the third that we worked in partnership with the agency. There were complaints that there were not enough meeting rooms and the agency wanted one that was setup with a dedicated VCATS.

As soon as they were seated I called Eric’s office on the fancy meeting room speaker phone that was in the middle of the table, “Department of Homeland Security; Director Roberson’s office Mable speaking. How may I help you?”

“Hello, Mable how are you today? Is Eric in?” I asked.

“BJ - good to hear from you; he is in a meeting with Art Cummins from the NIA and Frank Love from the CIA. What am I thinking; you know Frank and have more projects going on with the CIA than I can count and that’s just the ones I know about that aren’t top secret,” she replied.

“Send him a text that I am in Minneapolis and I have four of his agents who I am going to shoot for being stupid.”

Suddenly there was a change in the expressions of my four visitors.

“Oh my! Hold on; for that I will interrupt the meeting.”

“BJ, please do not shoot my agents. There is too much paperwork getting them replaced. What’s wrong, what did they do?”

“What happened to the agreement we made yesterday that we were going to do this as an undercover OPS? I have four of your agents here who look like they just walked off of a Kojak TV set; they look so bad that a two year old ghetto kid could identify them as cops from two hundred yards away,” I said.

“There are two DHS cars sitting outside the office with the red and blue emergency lights on that I asked them to turn off and move the cars out of sight, only to get laughed at,” I said.

“That’s not the instructions that were given to their office and it certainly is not what we agreed on. I’m going to call their office; Frank and Art are going to talk to you about Randolph Reichmann.”

“BJ, this is Art, I am glad to see you are staying active after the Senate hearings. You do not know how much I appreciate you coming forward with information on this Russian spy.”

“Eric said that you were upgrading your bucket when the crumbs started falling out that led you to him: on top of that, you even arrested him and sent a crew to collect everything.”

“By the way, your clean-up crew did a bang up job. We sent a team to double check and we found nothing, so you can pass on a pat on the back for a good job.”

“Yes, I have a new and much bigger bucket than I had before. We have been running a lot of different things through it, including all personnel at various hot spot locations,” I said.

I guessed that since Art knew about Randolph Reichmann that meant that my chipper had not and would not be used.

“He did not want to talk in the interrogation room but when they got him to the pond and started the machine, he changed his tune and is still talking. We think he was high enough in the pecking order that he may be worth a future swap,” Frank said. “You know they never did tell me what the machine did.”

‘It would be best if you never know, ‘ I thought.

All four cell phones of my guests rang a text tone at one time and mine went off a few seconds later.

Thirty seconds later they were leaving, “We have been called back to the office. Someone will contact you later,” Otto said.

My text said,” They will be gone in a minute for a royal ass chewing and will not be back. Their supervisor will be there at one with four different agents who are used to undercover work,” Eric sent in the text.

I wondered how much damage had already been done to the plans; had today been one of the days that the terrorist had the college under surveillance?

Nothing could be done about it now. I called Robert and asked him to run the facial scan program on everyone that was in the view of the cameras so far today, to see if any stood out.

The one thing I could do myself was run the tag plate scanner to see if any non-student tags were repetitive, especially today. I keyed the program and let it do its thing.

When it finished, nothing looked out of the way, there were no tag numbers that raised any flags or names associated with them that did.

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