It was an interesting night. First off, the adrenalin rush of today’s events had left both Vicky and I horny as hell and Tuesday night was our night together. What started out as tender love and sex turned into a wild and aggressive fuck fest. The others were drawn into the room with all the grunting and screaming we were doing. The bed headboard slamming the wall like a pile driver was like a telegraph throughout the house. We were both using the largest of the pump-up dildos.

They may have been in the room and doing their thing together but none made any attempt to get into the bed with us. We were both going to be bruised and very sore tomorrow, if we could even walk straight. It was after midnight when we finally helped each other to the shower.

At 6 we were all fed, dressed, and ready to go our separate ways this morning. Jenny was going to Annapolis to prosecute another big case for the task force. This trial was expected to last several weeks.

Lorrie, Marcy, Ching Lee and Vicky were going over to the gym offices. Marcy was working on several more rental sites and Lorrie had to furnish the rest of the houses in Naples. Starting the first of the month they all were needed. Both of them would have more help tomorrow. Randy and Rebecca were coming back on the return flight from this week’s Naples round robin.

Patti and I were headed back to the college. Courtney, as soon as she arrived from Annapolis, was to continue her challenge of putting together the testing schedule for the Friday session of interviews and working with Jason on the manuals. Jason was only going to be here for a few hours this morning. He was going to be doing task force work the rest of the week then here Saturday and Sunday for the oral interviews of the Frost Borough applicants. He would then participate in the job offers that followed.

College graduation was next Saturday. All my mate’s parents were coming to stay in the area. Some of them were here and some of them at the high end Hilton in Annapolis.

I had finished the mornings round of hugs and kisses and ‘see you this afternoon’. Patti and I were walking to the Suburban when another Suburban with government tags pulled up behind mine and blocked it in.

“Oh crap, I guess they were not kidding when they said I was going to Washington today,” I said to Patti.

Two muscular men walked towards me. “I’m special agent Barnes FBI and this is senior agent Reams HLS,” The older looking one said. “You need to loose the Glock or we will have to take it. You are going to spend the day with us.”

I unsnapped the holster from my belt and the holster with the mace and handed it with the Glock to Lorrie. “Lock it in the gun safe, please.”

I handed Patti the keys to the college Suburban and said, “I will e-mail you with an update as soon as I know something.”

Barnes drove, I sat in the passenger front and Reams behind me. They started no conversation and neither did I. Since they had said nothing I worked on my smart phone doing e-mails as Barnes drove towards Washington.

Not long after we crossed the city line the Suburban turned into a dilapidated neighborhood that could have easily passed for a third world ghetto. After winding through endless streets the Suburban stopped in front of a large rusty roll-up garage door and waited as it went up before pulling inside.

As we rolled to a stop we were met by two suits and two dressed in black military gear, each carrying an M4. Barnes said, “Get out; these gentlemen will take over from here.”

I stood beside the Suburban and waited. The older of the suits that could have passed as a Barney Fife clone had a wand of the kind that airport security used.

“Take off your shoes and belt, empty your pockets on the floor,” he said. When I had complied with his request he passed the wand over me.

“A bra or are you pierced?” he asked. “No piercings,” I replied.

“Loose the bra,” he said.

I was wearing a short sleeved uniform shirt. I guess he thought that I would do the straps over the elbow thing. Instead I unbuttoned the shirt and slid it off. I handed it to one of the military-dressed dudes.

“Wrinkle it and you die,” I said just as serious as I could be. Then I unsnapped the bra and handed him the bra.

The Barney clone still did the wand thing even though I was naked from the waist up. Then he went waist down with the thing.

“Are you wearing body jewelry?” he asked. “No” I replied.

“Loose the pants then,” he instructed.

I unbuttoned and unzipped them and handed them to the other mil-type. I wasn’t wearing any panties; I rarely did. Today was no different.

I am not ashamed of my body. I eat right most of the time and when I don’t I spend extra time in the gym to work it off. Because of all the time in the gym now and sports at an early age I never had the big saggy type tits. I kept the fat that settles there worked off. They weren’t overly big but they were firm with nice nipples. I had muscles in all the right places from my time in the gym; I could do a respectable muscle pose routine if I wanted to. Owning a tanning salon I had the perfect all over tan for my body type with no lines.

Barney clone ran the wand over me again even though I was totally naked. I stood there thinking how easy it would be to kill all of them before they knew what had happened. The three of them were totally distracted, staring at my nipples and shaved pussy. The two military guys no longer had their guns in their hands. They were holding my clothes like they were going to bite them, staring. I guess that they took the threat about the wrinkles seriously.

Barney was so engrossed with his beeping wand he was useless. His partner was staring as bad as the military guys and had his hands in his pockets playing with his cock trying not to let show. A nut kick to one and a throat chuck to the other one, grab his M4 as he was falling away, shoot the two suits as they were going for their guns, and then shoot the two military guys before they had recovered; just like a movie script. I wondered if I was losing my mind thinking like that.

Barney took my bra and ran the wand over it feeling for every piece of metal that set off a beep. He did the same thing with the shirt and pants before handing them back to me. “Get dressed.” They watched me dress; when I was finished Barney’s partner said “Follow me.”

They walked me through a maze of hallways and corridors to an interrogation room. “Have a seat; someone will be in, in a minute,” he said.

That minute turned out to be more than half an hour; when in came an ex-military. I could tell by the way he carried himself. He had a bulging folder that I assumed was mine. It had just been run off a printer; I could smell the ink and paper. If you have ever run off a huge document you knew the smell.

He started going through the folder one sheet at a time. I can do fair reading upside down. I had seen many of the sheets before, papers from high school, my marine enlistment papers, the promotion forms and rejections, and then there were pages from the state department of my time as a diplomat guard while I was stationed in Asia. There were a lot of those that had whole sections blacked out. I knew what the sections that were blacked out were. I had a file home in the safe that had copies of the originals.

I guess he was trying to psyche me out with grunts, frowns, and eyebrow movements. Those were the only things that was happening other than him flipping pages. Occasionally he would take a drink from a huge mug of coffee. He should have at least brought me one, I thought.

He had made it to the time I spent as a hand to hand combat trainer before my first tour in the sand box. In between tours I served as a trainer several times. He must have read those pages several times before he moved on to the sandbox time; the mission reports and those kinds of things, page after page.

He raised his eyes and said, “A Heart and a star.”

“Yes Sir,” I replied. He kept reading. Several pages later he flipped back a page and reread it using his finger as a guide. “Another Heart and another star,” he said. “Yes Sir,” I replied.

He kept on reading; I knew he was reading about the rescue mission when he said, “You were a Major for a day?”

“I guess that is what happens when you make the wrong people mad,” I said.

“All these letters from senior officers don’t read it that way, especially when they are approving more medals. Just how does a Marine driving a truck see so much action?” he asked.

“The Taliban knew that without food, fuel and ammo the war grinds to a halt. Big slow trucks were easy targets. They also believed that American women were cowards. When I get shot at, I shoot back,” I said.

He didn’t respond to that other than with a grunt and kept turning pages. He was to my life after the marines. I saw the copies of the newspaper clippings of the Food King assault and then the killing of the college rapist gang. “I guess you do at that,” he said. Then he was to the JBG pages of the file. He flipped a couple of pages and closed the file.

Then he went Leroy Jethro Gibbs on steroids. He picked up the folder and slammed it back down on the table so hard the table moved.

“WHAT the hell were you doing out there?”

“What I did was a security/safety demonstration designed to open eyes about a serious gap in student safety at all educational levels nationwide,” I said. “They are going to be the next soft targets now that you are letting terrorist walk across the border at will. It is only a mater of time.”

“Contrary to popular belief, we know who is coming across the border, we only let the good ones in,” he said.

“Just like you only let the good guys like Snowden have top level security clearance,” I said. “I don’t think you can weasel out of that one.”

“Tell me about the bomb. We have the film and the bus is at the research farm. The explosive people want to know what you used. What the hell was in the bags? The fire company put so damn much foam and water in the thing that the test group found nothing,” he said. “With the unusual damage to the bus roof and sides and the frame by frame review they think you developed a new exotic explosive,” he said.

“I have already told your people there yesterday that it was easily available, cheap, and required no special permits. They should be able to figure it out pretty easily,” I said.

“They are not buying it,” he said.

“Then it sounds like I need to get a lawyer before we go any further,” I replied.

Just then there was a knock on the door then it opened. In walked 4-star General Metcalf. He was the general at the Navel Academy Christmas Party and had been the one to promote me to Major for a day.

“Jones, have they brought you anything to eat?” he asked.

“No Sir. They have been feeding me hot air,” I replied.

“Then lets go eat,” he said.

“I am not finished with her yet,” the interrogator said.

“Write a list of ingredients that you need to duplicate what you did yesterday and someone will get them together while we are at lunch,” the general said. Looking at the interrogator he added, “We will assemble the group at the test site with the engineers at one.”

I wrote down all the items and slid the paper to the interrogator who was obviously upset. I stood and walked out with the General and ate lunch with the officers and several VIPs. I had good lunchtime banter with the group even though I felt way out of place.

At 1 I was standing, looking at the bus with about 200 people. The last time I had seen it up close was as we were making our getaway and then it was only a glance. It looked so much different now. The roof was buckled up and the sides were pulled in from the window level and above. It looked like it had been a child’s toy that was on its side and stepped on.

The engineers and bomb experts were ready. All the components were sitting on the back of a pickup truck; even the two large McDonalds bags. The rest of the group was standing well back.

I assembled each of the components. As I finished each one the experts photographed and weighed them. The engineers in the group had calculators in hand discussing all kinds of data from the weights and mixtures. Then they passed them back to me. I placed them in the bag in the same order that I had yesterday.

I placed one bag in the front passenger walkway just as Courtney had and then I placed the one in the rear walkway. The engineers did their thing again; more talk about data and calculations. I waited twenty minutes for them to finish.

There must have been 20 cameras placed around the bus plus dozens of cables that I assumed went to all kinds of sensors. They gave me the order to set off the bags. I asked for a jacket with long sleeves, we were on a gravel parking lot and not on grass. It would have torn my arms up with the dive and roll I needed to do to get away from the explosion and fire.

One of the military guys produced one out of a sedan parked not far away. I waited for the order again. Then I went to the rear of the bus and pulled the trigger on the flare gun twice as I had done yesterday as I dove and rolled away. With no windows this time to hold the heat and flame in, I immediately felt the heat and rush of air pushed by the explosion and fire.

After the experts had all their data, the fire control group put out the fire. There was a round table of the minds while I stood and watched the comedy that the fire control group did trying to put out the fire. I had never seen anyone try to put out a fire that big with 2 pound fire extinguishers. They were going through them like kids with a box of chocolates. Most of the powder was not even making it to the fire they were so far away.

Barnes and Reams directed me to the Suburban and carried me home. It was another quiet ride. As I opened the door to get out Barnes said, “I would not make any more bombs for a while.” I changed clothes and walked over to the gym in time to get some work done over there and fill my family in on today’s events.

Edit by Alfmeister