Second Chance
Chapter 22

SECOND CHANCE is copyright protected. Any use, including reprints, without specific written permission is forbidden and illegal

DoOver Sci-fi Sex Story: Chapter 22 - 43 year old Carl watched helplessly as Death came for him in the form of an overloaded produce truck. Suddenly he found himself in the body of a 14 year old boy, injured in the same accident. Now Carl had to learn how to live as Brian and cope with a new life and a loving mother.

Caution: This DoOver Sci-fi Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/Fa   Consensual   Science Fiction   DoOver   Incest   Mother   Son   First   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Masturbation   Petting  

I looked around to make sure I knew where everybody was stationed. Roy was on my far right, watching the progress of our advance team as they moved into position to suppress any response from our quarry. I hadn't seen him in this life at all, even though Jack used him often, and he certainly had never met the VP.

The late afternoon sun was weak and the sky was hazy, partially covering us as we moved into position.

I watched Roy giving orders by hand signal and marveled at how tightly his team moved at his command. It was a real gift, and an art form. When he was introduced to me, he was clearly uneasy, unsure how to act, speak, or react in the presence of the Vice President. I put that to rest by taking his offered hand and saying, "Roy, I am very glad to meet you. Jack speaks highly of your special talents, and I know we will be friends, so lose the discomfort and treat me like anyone else."

Jack's smile said he agreed with my approach.

The house was way off the beaten path, and we were about to discover just how secure it was.

Our snipers reported no visible activity, which got our breaking and entering (B & E) guys moving towards the rear door.

I could feel the sweat building on my forehead as we waited for news of their progress. We had Go-Pro cams on two of their foreheads and were seeing most of it in real time, but there is nothing like being there, as opposed to watching those that are there.

The first two reported no activity as they defeated the door locks, and when the four-man crew slipped in behind them to clear the building, we started moving in. When the former Vice President and his henchmen returned, I planned an unusual welcoming party for them.

It was mostly Jack's idea, and it played hell with Steve and his guys, but when he finally saw the upside of having me PERSONALLY confront Cutler and his criminal partners to break up this conspiracy wide open, we were good to go. Still, he was as nervous as a long tailed cat at a rocking chair convention.

The Treasury Secretary, Ken Stanton, was on board, but only just, and that was only because, it turned out, that they had a file on Cutler's criminal activities that would make a recidivist proud, but were too frightened of his inside-the-beltway power to make a move on him. With full disclosure of Cutler's intention to assassinate Charles and me, the Secretary caved in and assigned only his closest, most trusted staff to be our backup.

It was pure kismet that Cutler dismissed his Secret Service protective detail when he retired, presumably to keep his criminal activities a secret.

It didn't work out as he intended...

The handpicked squad of Secret Service agents chafed at being hidden out of sight, but were heavily armed and anxious to get in on the take down. We all agreed that everyone that showed up with Cutler was going into the ground to keep disclosure from causing a constitutional crisis. Niceties of probable cause, and reasonable proof went out the window, and the safety of the United States president took first place in every discussion about tactics, engagement, and procedures.

Our plan was to take Cutler, sweat him till he confessed, interrogate him until we knew every detail, every name, every date and event targeting the administration, and then arrange to dispose of him, followed by an all-out assault against everyone in on the plot. We would act to safeguard Charles, no matter what it took, or who got dead, once and for all.

Treasury had the road covered. Anyone coming in wasn't going out. They also took the local cell phone towers out of commission, to keep communication between conspirators to a minimum. Our electronics wizards took out all two-way radio traffic, except ours. I really, really wanted to know how, but they refused to tell.

Our team was taking the lead and would be ultimately responsible if things got out of hand.

To do that, I felt I needed to lead the team when the time came. Since Cutler killed John Gray, and was now hiring people to do it again, I was in first place, and Cutler was not going to like my mood one bit.

Here I was, waiting to enter a vacant house where Cutler was supposed to meet with his contract killers. Roy went ahead of me into the house and personally vouched that it was empty. By the time we got word that Cutler and his circle were headed towards us, I was sitting in a rather comfortable rocker-recliner, waiting for that coward and his crew to show up.

Jack and Roy scampered into the closet facing the door Cutler would enter through, and were out of sight before he walked in, full of himself, and certain that he was in charge. When he saw me waiting for him, he paled, blustered, and tried to bluff it out, but failed miserably and caved in when I wagged my index finger at him and said, "You Are A Naughty, Naughty, Naughty, Boy ... you've been so very naughty. I think you need a lesson in manners and comportment. My little friend, here, is very quiet and extremely efficient. If you aren't perfectly still, it will be all over way too soon, and you'll have missed all the fun."

Cutler blanched, looked wildly about, hoping to spot an escape route, and thought about attacking me. He might have tried violence, but I had a forty-five pointed at his heart the whole time. It tends to change a man's mind when used that way.

As Cutler thought furiously for a lie to cover himself, I carefully screwed a silencer into the barrel of the automatic and kept talking. "Cutler, you are a very bad boy. Your moronic attempt to have Charles Thornton killed came to my attention almost from the start. You were beaten before you began, so here we are, stuck having to take out the garbage..." I had finished setting the silencer and was lightly bouncing the gun in my hand.

As I lined up a kneecap shot I thought about the hours Steve and I spent at the gun range, practicing and practicing, to make my bad aim go away.

"Whatever are we going to do with a putz like you, CUTLER! You MAGGOT! I think I think I'll shoot your kneecaps and make you crawl to town looking for help.

 
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