The Junior Deputy U.S. Marshals. 7 in STOPWATCH - Cover

The Junior Deputy U.S. Marshals. 7 in STOPWATCH

Copyright© 2012 by Old Man with a Pen

Chapter 6

"Whoa! That's one happy cat." Clarence said.

SIX! had her tail up and waving her butt around. 'Heaven, I'm in Heaven, and my heart beats so that I can hardly speak. E'veen ... I had no idea ... You have to ... positively have to ... it's wonderful.' She jumped up in Bill's arms and lounged. She burrowed in, rolled over and burped a mass of cat cum out her vagina ... all over Bill's arm.

"MY NEW SUIT!! SIX!! How could you?" Bill exclaimed.

'It was easy ... I stuck my butt up in the air ... he came behind me... '

"I know HOW it's done ... Holy shit E'veen. I can hear my cat in my head."

E'veen glared at Bill, "Impossible, Bill..."

Clarence interrupted..."No E'veen, I'm hearing her too. She's singing."

"Singing? What?"

"Heaven, I'm in Heaven, and my heart beats so that I can hardly speak, and I seem to find the happiness I seek. When we're out together fucking, you make me squeak..." Clare started laughing. "SIX! that's not how the song goes."

'Hello, you're a new human ... you're not magic. You're not supposed to hear me.'

"Well excuse me, but I do hear you. I would love to have one of your kittens ... when they're weaned."

'Weaned? What's weaned?' Exactly what was involved in birthing, cleaning and feeding kittens descended on SIX! like a mini-nightmare, 'OH GODDESS! WHAT HAVE I DONE! KITTENS! BABY CATS ... for EIGHT WEEKS? Yes, you can have one ... you can have them all ... they're going to chew my nipples and stretch my beautiful sleek body ... OH ... that DASTARD! Leaving me to fend for myself in this cruel cold heartless world.' She actually threw a paw across her forehead. 'How was that? Did I emote? Where's the script? We need to write that paw fling in.'

Not everyone could hear her, but those who did applauded. She twisted around in Bill's arms, stood on her hind legs and bowed from the waist ... the pressure flushed more cat cum out and down the front of Bill's suit.

Poor Bill.

A C-130 on final. EVERYBODY freaked! The plane thundered down the runway, the pilot reversed his props and the plane shuddered to a stop. With one set of props on forward and one set on reverse the pilot spun the plane

As the crew unloaded Bill spoke to Mina, "You could have landed at the International ... we'd come pick you up."

"I thought we were landing at MacDill," said Mina. "But no ... C-130's have propellers and they're a JET Airforce station. Besides, Pyewacket said SIX! was here." The sarcasm dripped like hot motor-oil.

Mina opened Pyewacket's cat carrier. She stalked out ... saw her precious offspring in Bill's arms and joined her.

'Not a word about my weight, William. Not a word.'

'Hi mom, ' thought SIX!, 'When did I become your precious? The last time I saw you, you couldn't get rid of me soon enough.'

'You became precious this afternoon, when you started the process to become a mom ... Grand Children. My grand children.'

Bill set them both down, they burrowed. Watching them was almost like watching ferrets at play.

Mina said, "Where's the planes?"

"Between the hangars. Shall you walk this way?"

"Oh, my. Bill. Are we getting fancy?"

"As befits a Ph.D. in History, my dear."

The whole crew walked down the access road and turned the corner ... there was a sudden stop, as befits a high quality double take. The awe was palatable.

"Oh, My, God!" exclaimed Mina, when she she had her breath back. "Six million? You didn't add any money just to give me a bargain?"

"Nope ... that's them. They're shabby inside though. The maintenance group stopped working when we took them. They finished the twelve year on the older planes and the three year on the newer ones. The new GPS install was finished on all of them when the mechanic found the coke."

"Which one had the coke?"

"The oldest one, the 24. They really tore it up."

So they walked through, Mina found the interiors were a mess. The DEA had been thorough. There were interior panels loosely stacked inside and a couple of seats had had their backs off and not replaced. A couple of the older planes had their floors unscrewed. "You said 15. Where's the other one?"

"Clarence? Where's E'veen?"

Clare pointed up.

"Ah." Bill laughed and he pointed up.

Mina laughed. "What did she choose?"

The AIC started laughing.

"What?" Mina asked.

"You should have seen it. She did the Eeny, Meeny, Miney, Moe for fifteen minutes ... her whole shopping crew started in with her ... like a bunch of teenagers. She ended up with the last two ... that one," he pointed out the only brand new 60, "and the only short 31 in the bunch. We could all tell she wanted the little one but she went through the whole thing and the 31 won." Bill was laughing too.

His phone rang. "Out of Area? Who would that be?"

"Well, you going to answer it ... or not?"

"Sutherland."

"We were just asking about you."

"You're home?"

"Ok, I'll tell them."

He closed up his phone, turned to Mina and explained.

"She was having so much fun ... she forgot ... the next thing she knew, she was landing at Pounds field."

"Clarence? She'll bring your women back tomorrow. She's showing off the house and lake. I imagine you'll hear all about it tomorrow. She did say it was going to be late. Mina, she's going to University first thing tomorrow and show off your house."

"Oh no! Dang her pretty hide! The house is a mess." Mina signaled her crew. "Gather round, folks."

When she got their attention, she said, "We're in a hurry. We need to get back to Auburn as soon as possible. Assholes and elbows folks. Let's get these planes back in one piece, so we can leave."

Bill loaded up in the E50. They had no use for him here ... or, for that matter ... there. Just for the pure hell of it, over the Thicket, he wound his watch.

Out loud he exclaimed, "Well, fuck a duck ... I'm in the wrong plane. What the hell." That was not a question. It was consternation.

Quickly, he scribbled a note. It read: I've been looking for you for three years. I'll be back. I need a landing field 99 feet wide and 902 feet long to miss an obstruction 50 feet tall. He signed it, Bill Sutherland. Ph.D.

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