Chapter 17

"Okay," said Harold, the team leader to whom Kyle was assigned for this quickly-put-together counter-surveillance contract job with Mohawk Solutions. Pete had assured Kyle that his team leader had had a lot of in-country experience over in the Middle East in picking out terrorists who were doing initial target reconnaissance on potential friendly targets for the purpose of terrorist attacks. Harold had evidently personally thwarted at least eighteen terrorist attacks by being able to locate and neutralize the people who were doing the initial target reconnaissance and surveillance. He was thus a very experienced practitioner of counter-surveillance.

"Here are pictures of the folks whose privacy we are supposed to protect; and a fuzzy shot of one of the guys watching them that we got from a phone camera." Harold spread out proof sheets with about twenty pictures consolidated into five eight-by-ten printed pages. Kyle looked over the first two compilations, noting the two Japanese gentlemen along with two much younger Caucasian males, one who looked vaguely familiar to him. 'Pretty well-dressed and good-looking guys, even the Japanese; they should be pretty easy to locate and watch out for, ' Kyle thought.

It was when Kyle looked at the two pages containing the compilations of the women that he let out an audible gasp, followed by an, "Oh, shit!"

Harold noted the surprised look on the face of the new guy and said, "What's the matter, Kyle; those women just too hot for you or something?" He could not help but smirk a bit. Even though Pete Peterson had vouched for this young man to Harold, Kyle was still the FNG--the 'Fucking New Guy.' As such, Kyle should expect to receive a greater share of ribbing and derisive commentary from the veterans until he had proven himself on a mission.

Kyle surprised Harold by resuming a calm and determined look before speaking in a steady, professional voice that revealed experience beyond the younger man's apparent age. "No. But you should know going in that I recognize one of these women and I will need to be part of the team that stays away from her, or else the clandestine nature of what we are doing on their behalf might get blown."

Kyle turned one of the compilation sheets toward Harold and put his finger on an image of one of the younger women. "I know her--Brooke Cavanaugh. She is a student at Middlebury College."

Harold puffed his cheeks and exhaled before he asked, "Just how well do you know her?"

Kyle harkened back to the standup blow job that Dee Rivers, now his girlfriend, had coordinated for Brooke to give Kyle in front of Dee and another guy to assure Kyle that Dee was okay with his having sex with other women while Kyle and Dee were going together.

Kyle had begun falling for Dee in the fall of this past year, while Dee was undergoing her initial Courtesan training with her Sigma Lambda Tau Society cohorts; training which included sex with a lot of other men than Kyle. Dee had reciprocated in her growing feelings for Kyle.

Dee had told Kyle up front about what she would be doing as part of Sigma Lambda Tau and had asked Kyle if he could still carry on a meaningful emotional relationship with her, knowing that Dee would not be exclusive to him in their physical enjoyment of the relationship. Kyle had assured her that he could, and then had asked if she was okay with his enjoying the physical comfort of other women as well.

That was when Dee had asked Brooke to help cement the deal with a blow job for Kyle in front of Dee and another guy in the shadows of the Sigma Lambda Tau house. A couple of months later, Dee had arranged for Kyle and Brooke to have a whole evening of mind-blowing sex--in Dee's company, of course--at the house of Dee's mother in Middlebury, to further convince Kyle of her approval of his sexual activities not necessarily involving Dee. About two weeks later, Dee had arranged for him to have great sex with another Sigma Lambda Tau lady named Catherine Morrow--also with Dee present--for the same purpose.

"I know every inch of her, if you know what I mean," Kyle said to Harold, looking him directly in the eye. Normally, Kyle would not kiss and tell; but that rule was not part of the job at hand, and he did not feel right about holding out on his team leader while on the job.

Harold just nodded and said, "Okay." This time he did not smirk, but maintained a professional visage. "We will just have to have you cover some of the others then." Kyle nodded and Harold continued to brief the team about the initial setup for watching today, positioning them to be able get the best fields of view for detecting the other team's players who might be watching their 'Principals, ' as he referred to them.

For a successful counter-surveillance mission, the team would normally need to identify the surveillance target and become as familiar with the target's habits as the enemy surveillance team. That way they could determine the avenues of approach and observation points most available, and then most likely, for a surveillance team.

Once that was done, they would need to mirror the likely plan of the surveillance team in order to begin to acquire them, identify them, and then interfere with them in order to get them to have to move to an alternate strategy. Once these efforts were completed, they could begin to neutralize them in one of several ways: continue to stymie their attempts indirectly; physically stop their efforts--this was usually messy work; interrupt or otherwise disrupt their reporting mechanism; or find a way to convince them, through incentive or coercion, to stand down from their surveillance efforts.

Harold's team had the advantage of knowing what at least one of their adversaries looked like, based on the description and cell phone picture provided initially by one of the young men who was with the group of Principals--one Jeremy Winter. They also knew where the GMBE and Japanese 'Principals' would be working and living, along with their scheduled activities for the week; both professional and personal.

Additionally, Harold's team had been given access to a leased house within the same gated community in which the Principals were basing their activities this week. That gave Harold's team a close-in base and a real leg up, allowing them to get in and become well acquainted with the neighborhood layout. This afforded them the opportunity to determine vulnerabilities in the security plan for the Principals as well as likely points of intrusion and surveillance by those who meant their Principals malicious intent.

Two members of Harold's team had already taken up watch at the convention center while the majority of the team did the preparation work within the gated community. The convention center team took no more than two hours to acquire, photograph, and establish constant monitoring of the people that Carson Newman had dispatched there to dog the Japanese team and their GMBE counterparts.

By the end of the day, Harold's two agents at the convention center had also determined the identities of Carson Newman and over half of his team members via electronic means. They had taken pictures of a meeting between Newman and Cal Swinford, but had not determined Swinford's identity yet. That would come overnight via outside assistance from Mohawk and Pearl Foundation assets.

As the GMBE and Japanese business team members drove home that afternoon after a tough day of negotiations, the focus for everyone--the targets, Newman's surveillance team, and Mohawk's counter-surveillance team--tightened to the activities within the gated community.

Wednesday morning--Catherine and Jay.

Wednesday Morning's schedule called for shooting cuckold and black dominance videos, mostly--but not exclusively--using some of the more 'Stable Group' ladies and studs. Larry Mixon discussed this with the four students as they sat together at breakfast with Belton and Shaniqua. Isaiah, one of the black stars of Tuesday morning's shoot with Delmar, briefly joined them at Larry's request. Larry had asked Isaiah to explain the cultural phenomenon of black-white cuckoldry to the Sigma Lambda Tau team members.

Isaiah shrugged, smiled, and looked around at the faces of the four college students as he began. He said, "Black men always want their shot at fucking white women. Years ago, if a black man even looked the wrong way or stared for too long at a white woman, he was most likely to get his ass lynched or have his balls cut off. But now, black men can date and even be seen in public with white women, even in those areas of the Deep South where it was taboo before. Hell, a white woman is sort of like the forbidden fruit that a black man has just got to taste at least once in his life."

Isaiah snorted and said, "It kinda reminds me of that old Redd Foxx joke, where a white guy is telling Redd that he isn't bigoted, since he had been raised from his infancy sucking on the teat of his black nanny. Old Redd tells the white guy that his situation is really cool, especially since it took Redd till he was fifteen before he sucked on a white one." He laughed at his own humor and the others smiled politely, if uncomfortably.

Then he smiled, focusing especially on Catherine and Erin, and got a strange gleam in his eye as he said, "Ain't nothin' better than white pussy; especially when it's white MARRIED pussy; it's like I'm finally able to stick it to the white man in general and some poor white sucker specifically by fucking his unprotected and fertile woman with my bareback black dick, taking something that is clearly his property and something he treasures; and making it mine.

"Then I make sure that I rub it in his face, publicly giving her back to him well-fucked and in shame, showing him and the world that this black man has fucked this white man's woman, giving her pleasure that HE'D never be able to give her, and maybe even leaving him with a black bastard to raise--to his agonizing humiliation in the eyes of society in general and his friends and family in particular. That really goes a long way in my mind toward revenge for all the years when white folks did that kind of thing to us." Isaiah chuckled at their obvious discomfort, and excused himself.

Silence enveloped the table for a while as those remaining there thought about what Isaiah had said. Then, surprisingly, Belton was the one who spoke up. "Man; that is just so much gangsta, hood, jive-ass, victim-based, racist bullshit!"

Shocked at this sentiment coming from her black paramour client, Catherine, asked, "What do you mean?"

Belton paused for a few seconds, getting his thoughts together before speaking. Then he said, "It's that kind of thinking that may be good for erotic stories and for making money in the porn business, but it also keeps racial stereotypes going, and prolongs all the racial division that the people in this country should have gotten over a long time ago.

"And it keeps too many black people--my people--stuck in the mindset of constant resentment and envy, with politicians playing on it for all it's worth; telling them that they are the 'victims'," finger quotes, "of white suppression all the damned time, no matter what they do for themselves. It's always hopeless for them, unless the government agencies--meaning those damned politicians--help them."

He waved a hand at the three white college students and said, "And as for whites, well; for some--not all, thank God--it just keeps stoking the old fires of racial resentment and jealousy, and for some--and maybe this is even worse--it keeps up that stupid case of white guilt that causes them to look at blacks as children or someone to be pitied all the damned time.

"I mean, look at the results of some of the riots out in L.A. a couple of decades ago. I read where there were at least half-a-dozen sexual assaults by black males on white females during those riots, but the press kept that out of the news for a while, because it might be too inflammatory. Hell, two of the white women who were raped refused to cooperate with the police at all in bringing their assailants to justice, saying that they quote," here Belton took on a breathy-voiced California accent, similar to what many call the airhead Valley-girl accent, "... 'Understood why the poor, deprived black men raped us, and we sympathize with their rage' ... unquote. What stupid, programmed, government-run-public-school, liberal-white-guilt bullshit!" Belton declared.

"I know just what you mean," agreed Delmar, nodding at what Belton was saying.

"Well, I don't," said Erin. "Belton, from the way I hear you talking, you don't sound like you think too highly of stereotypes or of politicians."

"I don't," Belton said with a nod, taking a sip of his cocktail. "I'm so tired of politicians, and even so-called journalists and all those clueless asshole actors in Hollywood, playing on social and racial fears instead of working on keeping the economy strong and avenues open for my people to work their way OUT of the black neighborhoods, which are basically the new plantations, as far as Democrat politicians are concerned--although you won't ever hear them actually say it."

"You mean you aren't a Democrat?" asked Catherine, actually surprised.

"Hell, Girl, after my name you will not find a 'DEE' or an 'AR-RUH;' but you might find an 'ELL' hanging out there," Delmar said with a smirk.

"You mean 'ELL' ... as in Libertarian?" asked Jay, surprised.

"I mean 'ELL' as in 'Leave-Me-The-Fuck-Alone'--to make my own way, make my own living, earn my own money, spend it like I want to, and be sure that my money is still WORTH something when I DO try to spend it!" Belton was sounding very irritated, and Larry now saw the pause in the conversation as his time to speak up.

"Well; you know about the two things they say to avoid in polite conversation in a social setting--religion and politics," Larry said with a grin, "Now, why don't we talk about this afternoon's shooting schedule?

"Erin and Catherine, you get to shine today," Larry continued. "We are going to let you be the stars of two of the shoots in the afternoon. Erin, you get to be the bride stopping to get... ," finger quotes in the air from him this time, "... 'blacked, ' before going to the church to marry the unsuspecting white fiancé.

"Catherine, you are going to be the young submissive white working wife who is meeting her boss and newly-established black master; he has picked up on your submissive tendencies during interactions in your mutual workplace and is exploiting them by taking charge and having you fuck him in a hotel room; this time in front of your white cuckold husband."

"Wow; kinky!" said Catherine. Then she reached out with her hand to grip--and really grip tightly--Jay's hand.

Jay noted the intensity of her grip, but only said, jokingly, in an attempt at calming her jitters, "Hey, Catherine, this is no different than what you did last fall during Slut Week. Don't worry, though; I'll be right there pulling for you." Then he chuckled.

Larry got a cagey look on his face as he said, "Jay, you are more correct than you realize. You WILL be right there pulling for her. You are going to be the cuckold husband bound to a chair and forced to watch the action from beside the bed as your 'submissive wife' gives it up to her black boss and master while you suffer the pain and humiliation of not being able to stop it."

Larry got a grim look on his face. "You are not going to let us down, now; are you, Son?"

Jay returned the tight grip on Catherine's hand as he looked over directly at her. He noted that Catherine was not smiling now, but was looking intently into his eyes. She did not vocalize anything, but Jay felt more than heard what may have been a silent cry for help in that look.

Then Catherine put on a grin--forced, in Jay's opinion--and mirroring his comment from moments before, said, "Hell, Stud, even YOU did something like that once before during Slut Week, so don't wimp out on playing MY 'wimp' for the camera today." The smile was on her face, but Jay noted that it did not extend all the way to her eyes.

Jay smiled at her, squeezed her hand again, and said, "You got it, Sweetie. I'll be there for your grand acting debut." He was pleasantly surprised not only by her return squeeze on his hand but by her sudden glowing smile at him that seemed to light up the room around them.

Erin was absolutely stunning. She entered the room wearing a white wedding gown with blue highlights, but no veil or headpiece. Her hair had been coiffed beautifully and her makeup was immaculate. She had been manicured quickly but professionally with appliqué fingernails in bright blue with intricate white flower designs on them; this included blue appliqué toenails on her big toes to match the fingernails, and matching blue polish on her other toenails. Her feet were adorned with open-toe high-heeled strappy white 'come-fuck-me' shoes.

Erin's co-star was a handsome black man in his early twenties, named Azar Simpson. He stood about two inches taller than Erin when she was in her heels.

The scene began with Azar standing bare-chested only in silk boxers before Erin in her bridal gown ensemble, but without a bouquet in order to allow her hands to be empty. After some gentle kissing, Azar knelt and grabbed the bottom hem of Erin's wedding dress and lifted it gently over her head, revealing that she was braless underneath and wore nothing else but semi-sheer white thigh-high stockings and a tiny white thong along with her sexy white shoes. Her breasts were bare and her nipples were already protruding like puffy red gum drops.