Lucky Jim 2-Student, Farmer, Volunteer, Pickup Truck Diplomat - Cover

Lucky Jim 2-Student, Farmer, Volunteer, Pickup Truck Diplomat

Copyright© 2014 by FantasyLover

Chapter 27

Action/Adventure Sex Story: Chapter 27 - Despite the insistence of his family that he is the next incarnation of Lucky Jim, Jim Reynolds, sixth great-grandson of his namesake, isn't sure and isn't sure he wants to be. This is a stand-alone story. However, numerous references will make more sense after reading the original "Lucky Jim." This story also adds bits of new information about the original Lucky Jim.

Caution: This Action/Adventure Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   Fa/Fa   ft/ft   Fa/ft   Mult   Consensual   Fiction   Farming   Rags To Riches   Incest   Harem  

Tuesday

Today started like most mornings, with me enjoying watching the dogs romp.

When the construction crew working on the hangars and the underground vault arrived, I took the contractor aside and told him to build a runway capable of handling a corporate jet, and a hangar for a jet. He laughed at me.

Then I took him inside the house and showed him the closet off the study in the upstairs part of the bedroom. “I want a two-foot deep safe installed in the back, one with side-by-side doors that lock and open separately, and I want it hidden with paneling, so it looks like nothing is there.

“Next, I want a gun rack built in the downstairs study. I want it to run nearly the entire length of the room’s right side, to be hidden, yet easy to access. I want it to unlock using a palm print so I can allow numerous other people to access it. For the final four feet of the wall, I want a wide, tall safe the depth of the gun rack installed behind a different hidden access panel. I want to keep a ready supply of cash where I can get to it without accessing the main safe in the bedroom or the new one that you’ll be installing in the upstairs study.

“I want part of the basement sectioned off and made into a secure armory. The main armory, however, will still be down the tunnel next to the security station. Lastly, the Hanley house had a safe that Mr. Hanley used to store video tapes and DVDs. I want it removed and installed in the security room for us to store video and audio tapes of our engagements, as well as security tapes of the property so we can keep them for several months.”

“That’s all?” he laughed.

When Chaquanda arrived, I showed her into the study. “You’ll share this room with Hannah and me. You need to find yourself a desk, office furniture, and a good computer to use,” I said as I gave her a stack of hundred-dollar bills that was probably enough to build a room addition. I told her the same thing about the furniture that I had told Hannah. She liked what Hannah had, so I told her to have Hannah order another set when she came in. I warned her not to block the study’s west wall because we would be installing a hidden secure gun rack there.

When I told her to use whatever she needed from that money as an advance, I thought she would cry. “If you need more, just ask,” I told her sternly. “Pay back a little each week after you get back on your feet.”

“Thank you,” she mouthed, momentarily unable to speak.

Next, I showed her how to contact Dieter by phone or with the dedicated and encrypted computer. “This phone is a separate line from all the others in the house; same with this computer. Under no circumstances is it to be networked with any other computers,” I warned.

Then I called Dieter and asked if they had any wounded veterans with experience working on corporate jets. He laughed at me, too!

He explained that it depended on the jet since mechanics didn’t usually work on every type of jet. They had to go to school for each specific one. “I liked the one they flew us up there in. There was plenty of room in it,” I replied. He promised to get back to me. I did warn that I planned to use Dave as a mechanic for the jet, so I might have to send him to school for it.

While Chaquanda decided how she wanted her furniture set up, I went to the safe and counted out more cash. Adam, George, and each of the handlers protested when I handed each of them five thousand dollars in cash. “Consider it hazardous duty pay. Given what we received from what was captured, it’s the least I can do,” I told them.

“We’re just happy to have a job doing what we like. We got to show them the other day that we can still do it,” Adam protested.

They never said you couldn’t still do it,” I replied. “They were worried about your long-term health due to the grueling schedule you sometimes had to keep. They chose you to work with me because they knew you could still do the job.” They seemed mollified after that.

The pilots each got the same amount, even though they hadn’t faced enemy fire, and not all were back yet. They were instrumental in getting us there and helping with the cleanup afterwards, an extremely profitable cleanup for us. That, and the government paid for most of the usage of our helicopters.

When I phoned Carl, he was busy meeting another farmer in this, his new territory. I realized that he had to start all over here. His replacement in North Carolina now helped all the farmers Carl had already cultivated there as sources for Kroger. Here, he had to go out to meet new people and create a rapport with them. From what he said, this area had been a disappointment to Kroger for years. For some reason, the farmers were more prone to deal with smaller, local chains and local farmer’s markets. Kroger hoped Carl would be able to reverse that trend. Even if he didn’t, my production would make a huge difference.

When Carl called back an hour later, I brushed off his apology. “I know you have other farmers to deal with, and that you’re trying to cultivate new contacts. Feel free to use me as a reference,” I offered.

“Anyway, the reason I called was to find out if you know of anyone who grows mushrooms commercially, especially organic ones. We have all those tunnels just sitting there, and I thought we might put them to use making money for us,” I suggested.

“You’ve got miles and miles of tunnels,” he gasped. “You could supply tons of mushrooms.”

“Unfortunately, nobody here knows the first thing about mushrooms except not to eat the ones that grow in the lawn. I need someone willing to train a couple of my people, and I’m willing to pay for the training,” I said. He promised to check around and to get back to me.

Finding the security guys busy installing sensors, I explained that I wanted a series of sensors right along the creek. I wanted them to scan as far across the creek as possible so we could use them to help us locate anyone hiding along the opposite shore.

When I looked at the time, I was surprised that it was only mid-morning. Finding Carlos and Ramón together, I asked for something to do, preferably plowing, or even mucking out stalls. Laughing at me, Carlos directed me to where the first tomato greenhouse would be. “Go ahead and disc that field. We’ve marked all the concrete with a six-foot piece of PVC pipe and an orange flag so you can see the spots to avoid. We’ve already spread the compost and worm bed material,” he explained.

By lunch, I felt like a farmer again.

Carl called me mid-afternoon, excited about the mushroom idea. “I heard about a family from Hattiesburg who had an operation growing several types of organic mushrooms. They lost everything in the F4 tornado that hit the area in February and they’ve had to take whatever jobs they could find. The husband works as a temporary day laborer, and they live in a camper on the back of an old pickup that doesn’t run anymore,” he explained.

“I haven’t met them yet, but could drive down and get them so you can meet them,” he offered.

“I’ve got a better idea. Give me their address and phone number,” I replied.

After we hung up, I called and talked to the wife. She was so excited that she was in tears. I promised to have a ride arrive there by 4:00 when her husband was due home from his temporary job. When I hung up, I called the two pilots that weren’t in training. The others had gone back to finish cross training. These two pilots were already qualified to fly everything I had.

I explained what I needed, and gave them the address and the phone number. They should be back well before the surprise tonight. Even if they weren’t, the surprise would be fine until they got back.

I called Carlos and warned him that I had someone coming here in an hour or so who might be our answer to growing mushrooms. He was more excited than I was. I saw it as something else that required capital and occasional supervision. Carlos and the rest of my long-time employees saw it as an opportunity to provide gainful employment for more people and to expand our extended family.

To them, and I guess to me, too, employing more people meant that more families living near or below the poverty line would now earn more money. They would earn enough to ensure that their families had a permanent roof over their heads, always had food on the table, and that the kids would be in school learning instead of in the fields trying to earn enough for the family to survive. Of course, many of the kids ended up working in my fields part-time to earn spending money, but I required them to maintain decent grades in school if they worked. In addition, the families shared the money from what we sold at the fruit stand, and I gave them bonuses in early November based on how well we did that year--just in time for the holidays.

About ninety minutes after I phoned the pilots, the helicopter went north past us, back toward the airbase. I grinned, knowing that they would be picking up my surprise. When they returned and landed here, everyone gathered around to meet the new people. Seconds later, Toni shrieked when she saw Arthur getting off too. It’s a good thing the helicopter landed on the grass as Toni knocked Arthur over backwards in her enthusiasm. Unashamed by her outburst, or at crawling all over her husband for more than a minute, she finally stood up and introduced Arthur to everyone.

“Why don’t you go show him where to stow his gear?” I suggested to Toni. Seeing the look in her eyes, I reminded her that dinner would be served soon. I still figured that we’d have to save dinner for them.

“Sorry, her husband just got back from Afghanistan,” I explained to the couple and their two teenage kids who had arrived with Arthur. I met Fred and Alyssa Woodall, and their teenage son and daughter. After getting them all something to drink, I took the parents to my study. The two teens had already been claimed by other teens whose parents worked for me. I could hear them excitedly telling the two newcomers all about life here from a teenager’s point of view. I’d already heard about it from Carlotta and Marisa when they showed up the first night in North Carolina.

In the study, I showed the Woodalls the map of my property showing what we planned to grow and raise. I had added in dotted red lines to indicate where the tunnels were. Then I explained Nate’s comment that we should grow mushrooms, adding that I wanted to grow them organically. The only thing we planned to grow or raise that couldn’t be labeled organic would be the strawberries, and they would be grown hydroponically.

They were stunned at the scope of my plans, more so when they realized that these weren’t long-term goals. We would be selling tomatoes and strawberries before spring.

We reached an agreement on a salary, roughly equivalent to what they had earned growing and selling mushrooms before the tornado. They were stunned when I explained that I provided housing and most of their food in addition to their salary. I even offered to pay off all the loans they had against their farm. They could sell it and either pay off the debt to me or apply what they made selling the farm to the debt and begin making manageable payments on the remainder.

They suggested starting with five varieties of mushrooms and expanding to more varieties as we found markets for them. I showed them the list Carl had emailed me earlier today. “I already have an anxious buyer for as much of these as you can produce. We won’t get as much per pound as you would selling them to restaurants, but we don’t have to do anything beyond pick them and load them into shipping containers of some sort. Kroger worries about everything else.”

The only difference between the two lists was morel mushrooms. The Woodalls promised me that there was a ready market for the morels so I agreed they could start growing them once we had enough of the other four varieties growing to meet Kroger’s demand. As long as they met what Kroger wanted and had enough help, they could continue adding more varieties and increasing volume.

Since several handlers had moved into the manufactured housing with their families in the last few days, I had rooms in my house for the Woodall family. I chuckled quietly as we walked past Toni’s room and we could hear the rhythmic thumping of her bed against the wall. “I take it they’re happy to see each other,” I quipped. Alyssa blushed and Fred joined me in laughter.

I’d completely forgotten about it, but the auction house hadn’t. They called to let me know they were quite pleased with the result of the auction--$417 million and change. That amount, less their cut for the auction and for packing and shipping everything, would be in my account tomorrow.

When I went to bed, Jan told me that she had finally reached an agreement on a wedding date with her parents, my parents, Chloe’s parents, and all the other parents, Saturday November 16, three weeks from now. Jan insisted that we pay for everything, something I had no problem with, especially knowing that her parents were barely getting by. I would have offered her dad a job but didn’t have a need for a mid-level manager of an automobile manufacturing factory.

Wednesday

I watched cirque du puppies this morning, although there were fewer of them now that some of the handlers had their own place. A pair of female arms slipped around my waist and hugged me. “Thank you,” Toni whispered emotionally, shocking me. I’d thought it was one of my harem and was about to reach back and tease her.

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