The lines were gone at the customs check-in; I put all my bags on the counter. “Ambassador, do you have anything to declare, did you buy any antiques, weapons, gold, silver, or jewelry?”
“No sir, I have nothing to declare. I did not buy anything; I came home only with the things I took,” I replied.
“Sign on the line. You’re good to go, I don’t need to look through your bags,” the agent said.
After my bags were loaded we decided on supper at the Seafood Inn where we ate often. I wanted seafood; it has been six weeks since I had any of my favorite dishes.
Jenny had read my mind and already reserved tables for all of us. That was not all she had done. I should have suspected something was up when we walked into the lobby.
The owners were working the reservation counter instead of the hired help. “Ambassador Jones, welcome back, we have been expecting you.
Jenny had rented one of the big rooms for a welcome home party; there was a banner stretched completely across one end, “Welcome home BJ.” It was a good thing I had decided to wear one of the expensive pant suits for the flight home. As tired as I was I put on my best face and played politician and diplomat again.
I walked in to applause and cheering, the huge room was packed. All the VIPs from the college; all of my administrators from the office, all of my family were waiting. There was Frank, Victor, Eric and their families along with the Senators, who I was really surprised to see.
I was even more surprised to see the wimpy triplets there and that they had wives! I wondered who wore the pants when the lights went out.
Duke Justice and Clarence Hallworthy – the county commissioners – along with their wives were there.
There were ‘A’ shaped display stands with 8 x 10 color pictures of my venture. One stand started with the swearing in and departure from Morton Field and the arrival at Entebbe. Each of the pictures had a note attached identifying the people in it. Frank and Victor must have helped identify all the diplomats and VIPs.
There were pictures on the second stand of the first trip to Nimule and the first gala that Gordon and I attended, with plenty of pictures of both events.
The third one was a big one; all the pictures were related to the attack. Some were from the ZNN footage showing explosions and the smoke rising from the embassy grounds and others were from the embassy cameras. They showed the truck bursting through the wall and our response just seconds before the truck exploded and destroyed the cameras.
There were pictures that showed the aftermath, the destroyed trucks and cars and the damage to the walls and our wounded loading onto the chopper. The last picture on that frame was of me before I had a chance to clean up; my clothes were bloody and torn, my face was bleeding and I was still holding an M16; it was taken while I was still on the roof.
Those pictures could have only come from Andy or one of his men. The picture did highlight why my eyes had not been damaged; I was wearing my favorite pair of tinted shooting safety glasses. I did not remember putting them on.
I was standing there looking at the picture a long time when I noticed Frank, Victor and Eric standing beside me.
“That picture is not in any that you sent us. Where did that one come from?” Frank asked.
“I do not know. This is the first time I have seen it; I guess one of my crew took it, but I don’t remember,” I replied and then I added “I do not remember hurting as bad as that looks like it should have,” I said.
After looking at that one I started over looking at the pictures of the attack to make sure there were no pictures that could send me to jail or worse. I would find out where that one came from. All my people were given strict orders about pictures of the attack and aftermath.
The rest of the pictures were of the trips to Nimule and there were a lot of the food and the kids, the hand washing and how to use a spoon. There were also the three additional galas I went to.
The gala at the French Embassy had a stand all its own, and whoever chose the pictures for the stand did not censor them. There were plenty of the waitresses serving the tables, displaying their intimate body parts. There was even more of the dancing, and I was showing some panty in some of the dance moves.
While I was looking at the pictures of the French gala, Ben Smith of the wimpy triplets walked over, “How come I miss all the good parties?”
“I’m not sure it is worth getting shot at to be able to attend one,” I replied.
“You are probably right about that,” he replied.
The girls and I made the rounds to each table while drinks were being served. I gave the waiter my complete order so I could finish being a politician.
The food was soon to come out, so I ordered a dinner wine. The wine glasses were already on the table so I could give a toast to being home.
Ding; ding, “A toast, to friends, family and to being home with them tonight. It was one wild trip and I am glad it is over.”
The meal was fantastic, so was desert and after dinner conversation. All of which made it a lot later getting home than I wanted. When we did, the first place we went was the hot tub. I missed the relaxing heat of the water; we were going to enjoy it tonight.
After the hot water and Jenny’s nipples, I rocked the boys until they were sound asleep in my arms. It felt so good to hold them and watch their little expressions as they slept. Jenny had to take them away to put them in the crib.
We did not have time for our regular orgy in the basement, it was already so late. We settled for a make-out session and a mini orgy in the living room. It was one of those times where a little was all that was needed to satisfy.
Sunday morning I made a big breakfast for my mates for the first time in six weeks. I ended up cooking the eggs twice; the first ones I burnt! It is amazing the little things one forgets. Luckily the girls had plenty of eggs in the refrigerator.
After breakfast there were a thousand things I wanted and needed to do. The first was to go to the airport, look at our newest C130s, uncrate the hardware and drones and then put them away in the armory. It took us an hour to do all of that.
The components for the twenty new devices that Cory had made the girls had already put in the armory. I felt a lot better now that all those things were locked up.
Then we rode Gators over to the super hanger to look at the two new C130s. They were beautiful – still shiny and looked new – even though they were over 10 years old.
We stopped by Lorrie’s office in the terminal building; Lorrie wanted to show me the schedules that had been worked up for all the scheduled freight flights that were to start tomorrow.
Normally we would have talked about these things in our nightly meetings but I had been gone and too busy to sit in on them by VCATS. My five mates had carried on in my absence, as we had planned for in these circumstances.
They had worked hard independently and together to keep everything going smooth. Now they wanted confirmation they had done well. I needed to be careful that they all received the same level of praise.
I looked at the graphs, charts, flight assignments and the schedules with all the other flights. Then there were the maintenance charts that Robbie had put together to get the inspections done on the older C130s.
Then there were charts for getting the 45 Blackhawks assembled, tested, painted and recertified. It was then that I learned the aviation shop had grown by ten more mechanics, based on Robbie’s assessment of the Blackhawks.
Seven were helicopter mechanics and three were C130 mechanics. All were ex Air Force, Army or Marine trained. All the Blackhawks needed to be operational and at 40 different embassies by October 1st. After that there were inspections and annual certifications were needed on all the existing choppers and that needed to be done at the sites.
I thought I would be just too risky to send them out to aviation shops in the local areas, and in some areas there were really no qualified shops to begin with.
Jenny explained how the interviewing and hiring had progressed since I had been gone. Most of the pilots had been given flight tests and hired and were in the process of leaving other jobs.
Vicky had streamlined the training based on the applicants experience level. Some of the groups would be ready in a few weeks, plus the college certifications were in full swing and would be completed before college classes resumed in a month.
Those, along with many of the new security employees with families, were offered low rate financing from Midwest Bank if they wanted to move to the area. The tie-in was that the girls had added a sweetener to come work for us and that was that the families here could come to the office and VCATS with their loved ones in the off hours anywhere in the world.
I now knew why the county commissioners were suddenly hanging so tight and happy. Marcy, with Jason and Jeanna’s prodding, had bought three large housing developments that were in default. As soon as Marcy bought them, years of back taxes were paid.
The developments had been given all the county permits and approvals as much as ten years ago. For some reason, once interest died in a new development, it never seemed to return. New developments were in the realtors’ ad cycles and being pushed very hard. The old ones just grew up in weeds.
Marcy – when it came to money – was a devil in a skirt. She had walked into the bank President’s office with copies of the default and foreclosure paperwork and put them on the President’s desk. Jeanna had it all put together to make impressive reading, “I will give you 30 cents on the dollar on the original loan value.” Then she placed a check on the desk for the full amount, “This offer is only good for thirty minutes. I am a very busy lady.”
When the economy crashed, no lots were sold, no houses were built and the sites went into default. The utilities had been installed in two of them; they even had roads and curbs installed. Now they were overgrown with weeds; it was hard to tell they were housing developments from the pictures Lorrie handed me.
One local bank was holding the paper on all three them. The property had been added to Lorrie’s rental division. Richard Bozman had agreed to oversee the clean-up of the developments by a contractor. Once that was done and the sites looked reasonable, the lots were going to be offered to JBG employees or put on the market.
Bob’s Construction engineering division had put together color brochures of all the standard house plans they built and others to showcase what they could build. HR handed them out with the welcome package.
Ching Lee added that the two new college additions were in the final steps. University of Nevada and the University of Nebraska system, each with 10 more campuses, in another expansion of that division would add 20000 more students under our umbrella to protect and 1000 more employees. The contracts were for 10 years and added stability to that division.
My going away for those six weeks had strengthened the girls managing skills. They had developed a much stronger decision making process and the determination to make things happen. I was proud of them and told them so repeatedly.
After lunch we went to AAGH hospital to see the last three of my men who were still there. I was relieved to hear that they were going to be released tomorrow. They would still need several weeks of physical therapy and then they would be as good as new, they said. We spent three hours with them and their families.
The rest of afternoon was spent with my mates and the babies; hugs, kisses and just holding. The stress I had been under – that I refused to acknowledge – was slowly going away. The hot tub again, wine coolers and little boys made the stress a distant memory.
Another mini orgy with my mates and another night with Jenny in my arms put the final touch on Sunday.
Edit by Alfmeister
Proof read by Bob W.