Second Chance - Cover

Second Chance

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

Chapter 13

DoOver Sci-fi Sex Story: Chapter 13 - 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  

“There is a possibility - not a probability - just a possibility that there may be a group considering an assassination attempt on the life of the President.” That got his full and unfailing attention. “During my time at Defense we were keeping tabs on the Puerto Rican Nationalists and a couple of names keep surfacing in our investigation...” I was talking to Donald Outermann, a seasoned capital investigator who was transferred to the Secret Service to head up high profile cases. He was referred to me by the Director of the Secret Service and came loaded with energy and intensity. If anyone could sniff out the Puerto Ricans before they made their run at killing Truman, I felt confident that he would. Even though their attempt was a couple years out, they knew each other and worked together a long time before deciding that there would be no better time to kill Truman than while he temporarily lived at Blair House.

“You will want to look into these two and anyone they associate with. Oscar Collazo and Griselio Torresola are active in the Puerto Rican Nationalist Party and cause me great concern because they keep moving in the direction of violence for the sake of violence.” Outermann carefully took notes and gratefully accepted the file I had made specifically to get the two shooters on the radar of the Secret Service. If the file I handed over didn’t do it, nothing would.

I was still holding down the Defense Department three days after Truman gave me the word. Congress scheduled a joint session to take up my nomination. Unless something extraordinary happened, I would be confirmed and then sworn in within two days. In the meantime I had a job and it was demanding my full attention.

As prearranged, I met with the Joint Chiefs and proposed a solution to the communist problem that we had been working on. “What if we start buying weapons that shoot the same ammunition that the Russians use and use a series of blinds to get them into the hands of the freedom fighters, while openly supplying bigger ordinance that would take out Russian tanks and bombers to those nations trying to stave off Russian invasions?

“My thought is that we need to give the rebels everything they need to fight back and do it in such a way that Stalin has to spend far more than he has available to keep from losing everything their army has gained.”

General Arnold spoke first. “Mr. Vice President, we can do that without raising a sweat, but where will we find the money to pay for it all?”

He knew as well as I did that the money would have to come from the continued sale of arms to non-impoverished nations. With Japan feeling the brunt of our displeasure, the countries that are worried about China’s imperialistic intentions would pay dearly for ships and submarines, bombers and fighters.

“We will sell them all the tools they need to protect themselves from the threat of a Chinese invasion and use the funds to supply the underground in Europe. If we trigger Stalin enough, his ego will force him to over spend and eventually break them. They can’t keep expanding the empire without money, and if the money is being used to fight rebels on all fronts at once, they won’t have it to invade the rest of Europe and Asia.” We agreed to put it in motion, and I agreed to use Defense Department black funds to get us started. The idea of accelerating Russia’s Afghanistan bungle thirty-five years early gave me great hope of helping provide the world a kinder and gentler condition, following the brutality of the World War Two.

The next evening, Congress met in special session and confirmed me as Vice President. I was present and immediately sworn in by a federal judge. Truman made a speech about safety, security, and protecting the continuation of government in difficult times and the papers ate it all up.

Everybody was happy except Barkley.

Something about Barkley worried me. Even as I remained at Defense, the shadow of Alben Barkley hovered over me. Truman hadn’t ordered me to give up the leadership at Defense, and our anti-communist mission began to take off.

With the end of the big war, arms dealers were flush with armaments and short on cash. Our emissaries purchased ship loads of nearly new weapons and slipped them into the hands of Mao and Stalin’s foes, making that summer a trying time for communism. It was Lend Lease in a less public setting. China publicly wondered why so many of their ‘friends’ were suddenly falling away, even as Russia struggled to cobble together enough money to keep their boot on the throat of eastern Europe.

Eisenhower and Wilson came to see me about three weeks after I took office. Their arrival caught me off guard, and I hurried up from the planning division to greet them. It was a Monday, and typically, Mondays were busy at Defense, because so many decision makers had been away from their desks for two days.

The first Monday in July was no exception.

Wilson and I hugged and chatted like old college roommates while Eisenhower watched our greetings with a smile. He was as he always was, cool, calm, kind and efficient. “Mr. Vice President, it is good to see you again and congratulations on your appointment,” he really meant it, or he was the best liar on earth.

Wilson was even more effusive. Phil, you are so perfectly placed to help lead the government through the coming months. With Russia and China so determined to take over the world, you and your team are doing wonderful things to slow them down and give them a good bloody nose from time to time.”

Eisenhower took up where Wilson left off. “Mr. Vice President...”

He never got the chance. “General. You must call me Phil. I will not be addressed by any other name when we meet. Is that clear, Sir?” My smile took any potential sting out of my words, and the great man smiled to let me know that he took no offense.

“As I was saying, Phil ... Stalin is spending money like he can just snap his fingers and make it appear. The pressure your arms deals are putting on their economy is beginning to take its toll. The Politburo has begun talks to reorganize the government, spreading power out over several key areas and decentralizing Stalin. When they finish, if they finish, he won’t be the dictator he is now.”

Wilson couldn’t contain himself any longer. “Phil, PLEASE keep doing exactly what you’re doing. Russia will collapse as their military spending strips the country of funds to rebuild and expand. In the worst case, our spies tell us that the Politburo could relive Stalin of his power and exile him to someplace safe, while they try and save the country from default and complete anarchy.”

I found it odd and typical that these conversations were taking place without Truman. When I brought up our project he waved me off, saying, “Phil, I hear you’re doing something quite smart over there. Keep it up and let me know if you need me. Otherwise, I’ll get bogged down following too many projects, and we’ll all lose momentum.”

If I read between the lines correctly, the President wanted distance between himself and our arms shipping, so he could deny he knew anything about it and let the blame on me if there was an international outcry.

That wasn’t all bad...

Jenny enjoyed the role of Second Lady enough to appear with me at a State Dinner, if I was invited. That didn’t happen unless there was a very good reason. Truman kept his distance and kept those with whom I did business at arm’s length to avoid any spill over should it go sideways. My daily reports clearly spelled out enough detail to insure that no one would sweep me under the rug, or throw me to former prosecutors just dying to run for President, like Truman’s upcoming opponent.

One event we both should have enjoyed was marred by a crisis at home.

The source of this story is Storiesonline

To read the complete story you need to be logged in:
Log In or
Register for a Free account (Why register?)

Get No-Registration Temporary Access*

* Allows you 3 stories to read in 24 hours.

Close
 

WARNING! ADULT CONTENT...

Storiesonline is for adult entertainment only. By accessing this site you declare that you are of legal age and that you agree with our Terms of Service and Privacy Policy.