B.J.Jones the Story of My Life
Chapter 486

Copyright© 2012 by jballs

Ex-Military Sex Story: Chapter 486 - 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  

We moved Rafi Quastri from the jail to the medical building and the Doc began his work. It took just one big dose to make him talk and talk he did; about everything.

He answered every question and the dozens more that his answers caused us to ask. When he finished we had an outline of how the operation was run. We had the connections in the Middle East and Africa and also who was pulling the strings. The names of all we already had were also included.

He even gave us the backup communications, plans and emergency phone numbers to reach the Princes.

Even more important, we had the contingency planning along with names of who was to step up to take over if Rafi Quastri and Gamal Ameen - his assistant - were to be arrested or die.

The surprise was the camps - they had been operating prior to 9-11- and the sheer numbers that had been through them. Even more surprising was who some of the instructors were. Several had spent time at Gitmo and were now teaching at the camps.

Just how in the hell did a terrorist who spent years at Gitmo end up teaching his trade at terrorist camps in the USA?

Frank and Eric were as surprised as I was. To make matters worse, Eric and Frank’s agencies had been watching the apartment complex for years. All of the instructors for the NY camp were living in the apartment complex - according to Rafi Quastri - and he was proud of it.

I cornered both Frank and Eric “You need to do a complete investigation of your agents assigned to the college and the Rochester office. Something is drastically wrong!” I said.

“It’s going to take years to sort through all the information gathered in the last few days,” Eric replied.

“We don’t have years, just the size and scope of the information should tell you weeks or a month or two at best before the next attack. If they had been able to carry out the games attack, we would have had a terrorist attack every month for the last six months, either at home or abroad against the US,” I said.

“Let’s ask him again when and where the next attacks are planned and then end this. We have been at it six and a half hours as it is. All of us have to work tomorrow,” Eric replied.

“I told you the football game attacks were the only thing planned for the next few months. They were the Prince’s big push and then everything was going back into the training-planning stage for a while along with lying low.”

“All the communications were going to be restructured; new phones and computer programs for the web. Then we were going to start a lot of new groups in different cities. Your way of life is doomed! Admit it; it is only a matter of time. You cannot win,” he said.

We had walked off a distance to talk; the Doc was with us.

“His statement about having a break of a couple months went out the window with the raids. There will be a power struggle as soon as they get organized. Someone will want to prove they are capable of leading the groups. New attacks will be carried out soon,” I replied.

“I think we are finished. Doc, take your equipment off; we need to call it a night. I wanted both of them done but that is not going to happen,” I said.

Just then there was a moan then a groan. Alarms started ringing on the Doc’s equipment. We ran in to see what was going on. Doc Burns worked on him for ten minutes.

“He is dead; he must have had an aneurysm,” he said as he was shutting down all the alarms and was removing equipment.

“He was going to die anyhow, saved us the trouble. All we have to do now put him in the chipper,” I replied.

“You do know I own 80% of the crematorium down the road, don’t you?” the Doc said. Then he added, “A hundred dollars worth of gas and it’s guaranteed no trace ever and nothing to clean up but a little ash.

“Sounds good to me; all that chlorine can’t be doing the pond any good,” I replied.

Vicky and I helped load the corpse in the back of Doc’s SUV, he was going to leave the equipment until we finished with it tomorrow night. Then we followed him to the crematorium.

Once there, Doc showed and explained to Vicky and me step by step how to load the corpse into the furnace and the settings. We watched through the window as the flames surrounded the corpse, the temperatures went past 1000 degrees and kept climbing.

“It’s automatic; it will shut off when there is nothing left. Here is a key if you need it and I’m not around. If there is heat coming from the stack, it is in use and you will have to wait a while,” Doc said.

Even though it was near midnight, Vicky and I both headed for the hot tub. We were soon joined by Marcy, Jenny, Ching Lee and Lorrie. For 30 minutes we had fun in the tub.

At Section 12 I was waiting - with the information on the Mexico terrorist training site - for the President and Troy to walk in. They did not disappoint; the second pot of coffee was just finishing up.

 
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