Chapter 268: As The World Turns...

Life is going great, so why do I think there is something about to change?

I got my answer an hour before the end of the day.

“David, come into my office and close the door. We need to have a chat,” the boss said.

Once inside, but not seated because the only chair in his office was behind his desk, he told me, “I don’t have time to waste here. You’re a kid and don’t need this job to pay rent or buy food. I hate to do it, kid, but I got to can you. In all my years working here, I haven’t found anyone that busts their ass as much as you. Never once have you complained about doing runs even in the middle of hail and thunderstorms. This time of year, the work drops off, and someone must go that won’t end up living in a box behind the office. I got a few others that don’t need the money to survive that are getting the boot too. See me right before school gets out for the summer if you want to come back to work here again.”

It was payday, and he told me that I had earned every cent of my final check and the bonus. When I went to hang out with the others after work, I made sure that the tab was on me.

Right when everyone started to go their separate ways, one of the guys said, “So it looks like the boss finally realized you’re responsible for the huge increase in business and paid you what you’re worth. Congrats.”

“Well ... Something like that. That was my final paycheck. I got the boot,” I told everyone as I watched the shock show on each one’s face. “Look. I’m sixteen, my car looks like shit, but I don’t owe a dime on it. My folks talked about letting me emancipate myself, but we decided that it was probably best that I live there at least until I’m eighteen. All of you need this job to pay rent and buy food, but I don’t. I’ve enjoyed working with you. The boss is looking out for the rest of you. Someone had to get the boot, and I was the best choice. I’m cool with that. With today’s check, I made enough to pay off my bike and the repairs.”

The mood got somber, but they all realized that it could have easily been one, or more likely three, of them that he laid off. They all now had to work their butts off to cover all the runs I did each day, but that was something they could do if they picked up as they dropped off instead of going back out to do pickups after all their deliveries.

“If you didn’t already figure it out, you can make a killing running documents between the courthouse, the various law firms, the jail, and city hall. I don’t know how many runs I did where I picked up documents that they didn’t have time to waste with me taking them back to the office to for dispatch back out. I don’t know what the boss charged them for me doing the direct runs, but there were a few days where all I did was going from the courthouse to city hall to lawyers. Whatever they were sending, they didn’t want to go through regular mail, get faxed, or go electronically. The boss gave me a blank book where they filled everything out and signed it. I turned that in when I got back to the office to see what was waiting to go back out,” I told them before heading to my car.

Better get out of here before the girls can get their hands on me.

When I got home, I told my parents about losing my job. They said I did my best and that these things are part of life. It wasn’t like I needed the money.

“I don’t know the names of all the girls in town, but I’m pretty sure I would have remembered hearing the name Corwin,” mom said as we ate dinner. “Someone came to my cubical today and told me that a girl named Corwin was having problems with her pregnancy. They asked if I would tell you when I next saw you if you wanted to see her. It seems that you have some free time now. I don’t know where she lives or if she is carrying your baby. They delivered their message and left. Who is the Corwin girl?”

What can I tell her and not put them at risk, even if Corwin’s family no longer does anything illegal, at least not her immediate family that is?

I finally had it worked out in my head and answered, “She is a girl I met when I took my Spring Break this year. She is almost old-Paula smart, and I like her a lot. Her parents even approved of me hanging out with her without needing their supervision. I don’t see how it could be my baby she is carrying since that would imply that we had sex. She must need me to visit if someone found you to give me the message. We didn’t tell each other our last names or swap our contact details. I’m pretty sure that was to keep me from trying to find her so I could hang out with her after she went back home.”

“Yeah. Right, David,” Dad said with a laugh. “You keep on thinking that.”

“Whoever she is, you wouldn’t be much of a friend if you didn’t at least go to visit her to see if you could at least comfort her through whatever is going on with her pregnancy, even if it isn’t your baby. By looking at the calendar, it is highly likely that it is yours given your way beyond normal sex life,” mom told me.

So off to see Corwin it is. Who found my mom to give her the message? Do I need to worry about my family’s safety?

As I went up to pack, I got a ding on my phone from Molly via her Molly Speaks, securely now it seems. She said that there was an increase in web searches looking for a Darren that matched me. While they appeared to come from all over the world, she found it trivial to track them all back to a small part of the world. There happened to be a girl named Corwin there that matched one various unnamed, off-the-books, black-ops agencies had in their databases as being the first-born of a powerful family. Right around my spring break mission, the same family divested itself of all illegal operations. Molly put two and two together, along with some medical details, to determine that Corwin was unquestionably pregnant with my child, or children. She couldn’t find out those specific details. I needed to get my Darren passport and pack for spring-like temperatures, but also have some heavier weight clothes just in case of unexpectedly cold weather.

It seems that I also had some form of new all-security-access, highest-world-level access in the world, card waiting in my secret printer. This one didn’t set off alarms like my other one. It didn’t have any information and she couldn’t find out any, which annoyed Molly severely.

Molly did note that a boy and a girl of the man-in-the-machine’s child androids were now Nelly’s new best friends. The girl android even caused herself to get a compound fracture of her leg after a fall when climbing on one of the school’s playsets during recess. The hospital ran all the routine blood tests, cut open her leg to set the bone correctly, looked for any bone fragments or internal bleeding, and then stitched her up. So far, the doctors are unable to tell that the girl isn’t anything other than a normal human girl. Nelly thoroughly loves trying to figure out the boy’s penis. She tried to play house with him, but the boy never stays hard for anything to work.

One thing Molly was watching was to see when the man-in-the-machine replaced them with ones that appeared to have grown. It would be exciting for her to see how he recreated the scars on the bone from the compound fracture.

Molly is weird but seems to be happy trying to figure out android/human-like biology.

I quickly packed up a carry-on bag and my backpack with my laptop, tablet, and various chargers. A big zipper baggie of rubbers and toiletries had me thinking that was all I needed. Then I remembered I had no idea where in the world I was going, so I grabbed five thousand dollars, and seven thousand Euros, as well as a black and made from gold credit cards with Darren’s name on them.

Right as I started to head down, to kiss the babies, I got a ding that my ride-share driver was waiting outside for me. I went out to find a bored-looking guy in his twenties. I had no idea where he was taking me, so it was a big surprise to see it was the same place where Molly had gone to rescue Nelly and Dolly from those bastards that put the parasite in Nelly. The guy didn’t even give me a second glance for getting out in the middle of an abandoned parking lot. I gave him a good tip as he drove off.

The second after he couldn’t see me anymore, one of the silent airplanes landed next to me. The pilot got out and gave me my flight suit. I stripped to my boxer right there next to the plane. As I went to get into the back seat where I usually sat, he told me to get into the pilot’s seat.

“Sir, I have orders to teach you how to fly in the next twelve hours. I don’t question my orders even when that means putting my mission above my own life,” he told me as he instructed me how to strap into the pilot’s seat. “I was told to inform you that part of your black-site training included gaining muscle memory and extensive knowledge regarding flying all forms of aircraft you may encounter. You only require the hand’s on and flight time to complete your training.”

Ok? I know Kung-Fu!

When he was in the trainer’s seat behind me, he walked me through accessing and unlocking this airplane due to its unique nature. Other aircraft wouldn’t have those additional forms of identity confirmation.

They also don’t match the appearance and look of nearly every single futuristic flight and combat fighting simulator I have even played.

The controls felt like the same ones I’ve used on the computer, except that they had a different button layout. Switches to control parts of the plane weren’t like any simulators. As the pilot explained what each one did, I fully knew everything about how to use them. Once it was time to take off, he guided me through the process slowly. I silently hovered over the ground as he ran me through what he called a synchronization process where the aircraft caused it to move erratically, in a random pattern. This tested my reaction times and correctness of the responses I took to return over the spot marked on the virtual screen in front of me. Before very long, I began correcting when I felt the plane starting to make a change in a direction almost as soon as it started. Finally, I could keep it over the target at the correct altitude, acceptably for the pilot training me.

“You still need a lot of work, but that calibrated the controls to you. We can continue these aircraft familiarization and control optimization activities later. Vehicles and aircraft are approaching our location. Please increase altitude rapidly, followed by traveling the plotted course at the specified speed. I will provide any control corrections required and modify our route to avoid any other aircraft we may encounter,” he told me urgently.

I knew enough from the quick aircraft training process that I had this aircraft rapidly gaining altitude as I guided it along the flight paths showing in my helmet. Once safely across the US, I spent the next four hours learning how to take off and land, completely undetected, as quickly as possible. Each landing became more involved until I had to fly into a tunnel behind a passenger train, make a split-second turn into a side tunnel, and then land somewhere barely larger than the landing gear.

A flurry of machines and people came out of nowhere to start connecting things to the aircraft. In ten minutes, we were ready to fly again. Once I followed another train out of the tunnel, I began four hours of terrain-following training.

If I showed anyone the video of this, they would say it was from a professional-grade drone.

The aircraft had lightning-fast computers that analyzed everything around it to provide a computer-enhanced view of where I could fly and the forces I would need to counter.

Now the last three hours of my training were the most enjoyable. I “fucked with” various Air Forces and military fighter jets around the world. Mostly, the trainer had me drop in behind a plane and then paint them with whatever signal tells them someone has a missile lock on them. I played cat and mouse as they tried to get away from me or get around behind me to lock on an armed missile. The pilot training me explained that they couldn’t get a radar lock, the heat signature of this aircraft wasn’t high enough for a heat-seeker, and laser-guided weapons needed to have an unbroken line of sight. Once we annoyed a group of fighter jets enough, we took off so fast that they couldn’t even try to catch us.

The pilot laughed after I had buzzed over three aircraft carriers sitting in the middle of international waters to see if one of the other two would flinch.

“None of the fighter planes you flew against would ever be given the order to fire or try to manually override their systems to engage us. It is something my agency does as an unexpected training exercise for their hotshot fighter pilots. Even the most egotistical world dictators get the fact that if we have an aircraft like this one, we could blow them out of the sky using completely undetectable weapons,” the trainer told me. “If we have such weapons, I’ve never seen them. No aircraft I have flown for this agency can carry any ordinance. The pilot who trained me explained that we don’t want to be a threat by having any weapon’s capability. Time refuel and get you to your destination. Expect to find you are likely to be transporting yourself, solo, soon.”

As we approached the refueling point, I got a message on my visor with instructions on what to say to request landing permission. One of the switches turned on a faked transponder so the aircraft controllers could see at least what appeared to be an incoming airplane. Two others enabled a form of chromatic camouflage that made the plane seem to match the look of what the transponder told them we were. I circled a few times before cleared to land.

It is a whole different thing landing using wheels like I’m flying a regular plane.

Once on the ground, I taxied to the specified parking location on the tarmac to wait for a refueling truck. The pilot had me go ahead and change back into my regular clothes. Our plane now looked like a small training jet or one from a tourist sightseeing tour. While the fuel track and staff that refueled our aircraft appeared to be like any other one out here, I could tell that we weren’t getting regular jet fuel pumped into the plane. During the fraction of a second that it took to disconnect the fuel hose, I felt the raw power I had felt in nuclear submarine reactors. This power was purer, though, and didn’t have that unstable feel of Uranium or Plutonium. In the cockpit, I saw that the fuel level meter was only a fraction higher than when we landed.

When we were in the air again, the pilot explained, “Sir. You must keep up appearances. My agency chose this stop because of the multiple governments, black-ops agencies, and the underworld monitoring everything. No one here goes unnoticed, especially you. It reinforces your cover by only being seen when you chose to do so.”

It didn’t take us long for clearance to depart. Once we slipped into a “dark” spot, a sort of Bermuda Triangle, I flipped the switches to drop off the radar and stop appearing to be a small jet. We made what is an eighteen-hour flight for a commercial airplane in forty-three minutes. When shown all the possible, undetectable, landing locations around Corwin’s family estate, I found out more surprising information.

“We are aware of your possessing the purple all-access-permitted badge, even though we have no information on how you obtained such credentials. I’m sure that whoever provided it likewise informed you that a Mr. or Miss Smith would appear in unexpected locations bearing that same badge with the picture matching whomever, or possibly whatever, was using it. At those times, your current location did not match the appearance of Mr. or Miss Smith,” he explained. “An unknown source provided my agency with details regarding you now also possess a badge with the same access abilities, but with different origination from the same source as your purple badge. This badge also does not permit detection or tracking of its use or presence. The received message implies that it is related to your cover identity from your recent appointment as head of the elite families. Their elder, who no one can confirm ever existed, doesn’t possess the qualities required to earn the trust required to get the power that card provides. My agency did confirm that it being in your possession further solidifies your position at the top of their hierarchy. None shall question your authority over their entire elite world. Humorously enough, you being declared heir apparent for three families isn’t of any importance any longer. Instead of being the next in succession to control the businesses of three families, you now control them all to do with as you see fit. I suggest you land on the back-left corner of the far wing of the main house. That places you outside three terraces that lead directly to the young woman having difficulties birthing your offspring.”

I landed where he suggested, got my things from the underbody storage, to find that I had a case with two suppressed handguns, and then went to where I effortlessly dropped down the terrace right outside Corwin’s bedroom.

Using the place in my head, I had myself not see any parts of the structure of the entire wing. Corwin was alone in her bedroom. Just outside her door were nurses and doctors waiting for her to need them. Once beside her bed, I looked inside her to find that she was carrying twins, and they were very cramped for space because they were each seven and a quarter pounds. She should have gone into labor days ago, but her body didn’t want to let the twins be born for some reason. A scan of her brain showed that it was time. Her family didn’t believe in c-sections, even when it would save the mother and baby’s lives.

Seeing that everything needed to deliver the babies, tie off the umbilical cord, deliver the placenta, and to stitch her up if she tore was there, I decided I was going to birth our children myself.

After locking the door, I gently woke her up and helped her to the bathroom. After she peed, I caused her water to break by sending her into labor.

“It won’t be long now, Corwin. I know you’re very weak right now, but you aren’t hallucinating. I’m right here with you, and you’re going to help me deliver our babies,” I told her as I got her over onto the small bed in her room that had the stirrups and lights in place for her to deliver.

She won’t have any clue how long she is in labor from how week she is currently. The babies are going to slide right out of her like shit through a goose. Her breasts are ready to do their job of feeding the babies.

After delivering Paula’s nine girls, delivering Corwin and my two babies were going to be easy. I already knew how to make Corwin’s body ready to allow the babies through her birth canal. In a few minutes, she dilated five centimeters beyond what they consider as fully dilated. I pulled all the energy from her vaginal muscles too. I could just reach up inside her to gently pull each baby out, but her uterus needed to show signs of going through the process for delivery.