Chapter 410: Interrogated, With a Date

I wonder what is for dinner.

“You are not taking these charges seriously,” a man said, almost screaming at me. “Any of these can see you in prison for the rest of your life, if not on death row with a very short wait.”

I looked him in the eyes, which made him shiver and said, “No, it is you that have no fucking clue what you are talking about, or at least don’t know all of it because you don’t have the security clearances. Even if I was guilty of even one of them, you say I have a trillion dollars in cash in the bank. I can buy a small country, arm them to the teeth with my favorite non-lethal weapons, and never need to worry about extradition. If I wanted to, I could ask Mr. Smith to escort me out, and you can’t do a damn thing about it. Why don’t you get to the real reason you had me brought here?”

“You stand charged with...” a broken record began saying.

“Mr. Smith, can I please borrow your phone? They took mine,” I asked.

That made those in the room laugh.

“There is no cell service down here,” a woman said.

He handed it to me, and I called Frank, the retired admiral living in the home I gave him in Hawaii and whose children’s backs I help fix to reverse their paralysis.

“Frank, it’s David,” I told him when he answered. “Sorry to wake you, and I’m not sure if this counts as my one phone call or not. A bunch of suits has me in a hole in the ground, accusing me of all sorts of things that they say will keep me trapped in this hole. Do you happen to have the number of anyone that I can call so I don’t have to wake both the president and vice-president?”

He came back with suggestions like the head of the FBI or CIA, but I said that would be a likely waste of time. After a few minutes, he did give me a number. It went to someone I wouldn’t think to call, the head of the people who put the money in the black-ops organization’s bank accounts. When I explained who I was and what was going on, they were not the least bit surprised and told me to hold.

Over the phone of the person who picked up, I heard someone saying that they were onsite and had things under control over a radio.

“Mr. Jones,” the woman on the phone told me. “A friend of yours will be arriving momentarily to de-cluster this fuck, from your standpoint, at least. Please call back if you need us to involve ourselves. On the record, you have a big stack of get-out-of-hell-free cards at your disposal for your various past services.”

The lady that told me I would get no signal snarkily said, “See. No one is going to come here to pull you out of the hole you dug for yourself. Go ahead, call the president, as if you could even get through the switchboard.”

“As you wish,” I said, getting ready to push the dial button on a number I knew rang the red phone.

That is the same red phone he answered on Christmas day!

“David,” I heard someone say as they came in from behind me. “No need to bother the president. He has more urgent matters than to ask why they fuck someone thinks they need to pull this shit on you. If you like, you can always discuss it over lunch or dinner. He won’t mind meeting you in person.”

“Does even one of you know about Mr. Smith? You do understand that Mr. Smith can go into any worldwide leader’s home, screw all his children, spouse, and that same leader? Everyone he fucked will thank him in honest appreciation of his attentions when he finishes? That purple card on his lanyard isn’t just something pretty. It is one of THE purple all-access, kill anyone who touches it on the spot, cards,” Agent Summer’s said. “So, you have the richest man in the world voluntarily putting up with your bullshit, calmly and relatively politely, sitting here with Mr. Smith. You do not know that the mercenaries you each chipped in to hire to have here don’t want any part of messing with David. The multitude of morons between David and getting back his daughter should be dead right now, but they fear crossing paths with David now because he wouldn’t kill them as anyone else would have done. Now, unless you want to give me the real reason you have wasted the taxpayer’s money and compromised a secure bunker’s location, I’m taking him with me.”

“You will do no such thing,” an older woman said. “He is here because he committed treasonous acts against the U.S. and gets paid for these acts by criminal families so heinous, they must remain in hiding to keep from being held accountable for their crimes.”

Agent Summers called out to have the people in this room placed in the holding cells in this bunker while they wait for the rest of those involved in this mess to join them.

She told my interrogators, “Each of you went off book and have no authorization, or even funding approval, for these actions. There is a protocol regarding a small group of people in this world, and you disregarded it entirely.”

A guy yelled out, “You have no authority for these actions. If you hadn’t been screwing this boy, you wouldn’t even be here.”

“I am not screwing him yet, but if we do decide that we want to go there, he is an adult and free to screw any other consenting adult he wishes,” Agent Summers told him. “Not that my non-existent sex life or his are any of your business. You don’t have the clearance or need to know.”

“That’s it, Agent Summers? I thought whoever ruined these people’s careers would at least tell us why,” I asked.

Mr. Smith answered, “They didn’t need anyone to ruin their careers for them because they have done amazingly well doing that themselves. Somebody has been very upset that what they wanted was denied them, so they fed these incompetents just enough information to lead them to believe they were taking down one of the world’s most wanted, nastiest bastards. Each one could have had you detained with a list of bullshit charges, but if they had bothered to do more than take things at face value, they wouldn’t be in this situation. Not even the nine-eleven terrorists, or those who funded them, would merit the resources expended to bring you here and try to ensure that you couldn’t leave.”

“How do you feel about Sushi for dinner?” Agent Summers asked before guiding me out of the room. “I’m not joking about having Sushi. There is a place down the road from here that says they can handle any sized crowd. So far, they haven’t been disappointed. There are worth three times the rate of the other Sushi bars. That isn’t why I wanted to take you there. They have a picture of you on the wall from when you caused the stir one year on your birthday. There was another in a Sushi place in Tokyo. Under it says they can feed the Davidzilla Sushi Monster. I didn’t expect to have you come to visit this soon after you turned eighteen, but since you are here and everyone has to eat, I thought it would at least take the sting out of that bullshit back there.”

Dinner was going to be later than she thought. Every mercenary there stopped me to say at least something. Some were glad that they ran up against Darren on that island instead of me. Others wanted to thank me for not killing them after being part of the kidnapping of April. It was a job that paid three times anything else they had gotten offered in years. A few just wanted to shake my hand or give me a high-five. None of the yells from the assholes that brought me here had any effect on anyone trying to stop me.

Once we were in Agent Summer’s car and away from the place, she pulled into a parking garage and found a dark corner. Her slacks and panties were down to her knees as she expertly brought herself off. She got a pad from somewhere and put that in her panties.

“Nothing you haven’t seen, played with, or fucked before,” she joked. “That was way too much testosterone in one place. I would have let half those guys in my pants right there in the hallway. I almost pulled you off for a little bit of interrogation to take the edge off. All those guys, some of whose only form of communication is one grunt for yes and another for no, each stopping you because they wanted to meet you in person, would have a nun wet and ready to break her vows. It was only my years of training that let me hold off this long.”

We got into the rush-hour dinner crowd looking to wait out the traffic. There were wrecks in both directions and on the side streets. Agent Summers, Julie Summers, since she was off duty, explained that I was an adult now and no longer a target of any authorized Treasury Department investigations. She cheated a bit by using her lights and siren to get around traffic a few times.

On the way, I made a reservation for David Jones. The person on the phone didn’t make any connection with the name.

It is going to be fun, and I get to screw Julie again if she wants.

I found out a lot about her as we waited for our table. While an only child, she lived with her cousins because her parents never cared for her.

Her aunt and uncle had gotten into the foster kid business, so she had nine cousins and no less than six foster kids living under the same roof, with four bedrooms, the garage converted into a bunk room, and three bathrooms. Her aunt and uncle had one of the bedrooms and bathrooms. Another bedroom was a home office. She had two girl cousins, but they were older and moved out shortly after she lived with them. The rest of her cousins were boys older and younger than her. The foster kids were boys and girls, but the girls only stayed up to two weeks at the longest. Because the kids that her aunt and uncle fostered were often aggressive, her cousins were too. Being the only girl among a dozen boys and sharing two bathrooms, she learned to hold her own, even if in a dress. By the time she started middle school, her parents were home enough to go live with them again.

Julie needs someone she can talk to and trust not to say anything to anyone about it. I could be in worse company.

The person that seated us and our waiter had no clue who I was. They did have a contest, but that would take hours to prepare, and I don’t think Julie would wait to screw me that long. She ordered a few rolls, and then I ordered two of the largest sushi boats they had on the menu. I saw the dollar signs in the guy’s eyes as he went off to put in our order.

They are damn fast here, I will give them that.

Once I finished the first of the two boats, I ordered another two. The waiter didn’t question it, and I kept inhaling the Sushi as soon as it arrived. Julie had ordered some Saki, making me the designated driver, so she enjoyed being able to have more than just one beer with dinner. Around seven-thirty, a manager came around asking to have a form of payment before he would permit me to order any more Sushi. I handed him the black credit card, and he hurried off to make sure he could get an authorization for three times our current total.

“Need to re-authorize my card for more money?” I asked the manager when he came back again around eight-fifteen.

He had enough pride to look down at the floor before saying, “We appear to have depleted today’s sushi order. You have our apologies, and I am going to comp your meal.”

“Why? I ate it, and I have no problems paying for it. If my friend weren’t enjoying having someone else driving, I would have stopped when she said she was ready to go home,” I told him and asked for the check.

I had paid and left a big tip for the waiter.

I asked the manager over to the Sushi bar, pointed at the Davidzilla sign, and said, “Unless you want someone to sue for false advertising, you will want to take that sign down and quit putting in your advertisements that you could fill up Davidzilla because you couldn’t. Few can when it comes to Sushi.”

It took him a minute to process before he looked back and forth between the sign and me.

“I must say it was my honor to have gotten the chance to try,” he joked.

Julie drank two bottles of Saki and had to work tomorrow. I got us to her car and used my phone to find her address, which I had to get from her driver’s license because she couldn’t stop giggling like a middle-school girl. When we got there, I found it was a nondescript apartment building. She did manage to get me to the right floor and apartment number. I waited for her to do her thing on the throne and had her drinking water until she took a very long piss, then I had her drink some more water. She had the cutest pajamas. Once I got her tucked into bed, I sat in the armchair in her room and checked emails on my phone. I had to help her stagger to the bathroom three times in the night and made sure that she drank more water. When her alarm went off, she was disoriented.

I helped her to the bathroom again, which seemed to bother her this time, so I left. Once I heard the shower start, I didn’t ask as I undressed and got inside with her.

“You aren’t in any shape to get yourself showered this early in the morning,” I told her. “Julie, Saki is better in moderation. Hopefully, all the water I made you drink will help with not giving you a hangover. I don’t get more than a buzz for a while, so I have never been drunk. I only knew that you needed fluids, and that is what I gave you. It is my fault for showing off, so now I’m going to help you get showered and ready for work. Once you have some toast, we will get you some coffee on the way to your office. Sorry, no sex because it would make you puke.”

She turned to hold my dick and said, “Sex is the last thing on my mind right now, David.”

Sex may not have been on her mind, but her body liked me washing her enough to cum hard without me using the place in my head. I got her out, dried, and dressed for the office. She didn’t notice or care that I had on different clothes than yesterday. Once I got her hair pulled up and pinned to look professional, we headed out.

When we got to the Treasury Building, she tried to say goodbye, even as I followed her inside. Only people with badges could get in, and their things had to go on the x-ray machine. I put my phone on the badge pad, and it let me go through the side that didn’t have a metal detector. Julie showed a bit of shock when she saw me do that.