The Grants Chapter 4

I left the Gator in the shed and was walking to the house when I heard the Jackson Gator coming behind me. Dad and James still were not home. Dad wanted corned beef and cabbage tonight.

            I bought the ingredients at the box store when I was there. It didn’t take long to start – big pot of water, cut up the cabbage and add three cans of corned beef, add some seasonings and let cook, stir occasionally and let simmer at the end.

            ”You didn’t give us a phone number so we could call tomorrow,” Carol said. They were sitting at the table talking and asking questions again while I made supper.

            Dad and James drove in and unhooked the livestock trailer.

            ”I have to go back in town and pick up the co-ops portable pen for the vet to use tomorrow. It’s going to take a couple hours,” Dad said.

            ”It will take that long for supper to finish up,” I said.

            ”Are you up for an hour and a half of swimming?” I asked the group.

            ”James, you need to take a quick shower before getting in the pool – you stink like a cow,” I said to laughs.

            We carried the blankets and towels out for us to lay on and the bottles of lotion. I shucked my shorts and shirt as did my guests and dove into the pool. We were swimming laps when James came down and joined us. He had on his swim trunks – they were soon gone.

            An hour later we were on the blankets sunning. I oiled James’ front and he mine – including his now hard cock – to groans from the other girls and Bob (as I found out he liked to be called). James took plenty of time on my boobs and crotch to more groans.

            “You girls need to oil up unless you are waiting on James to do it for you,” I said.

            ‘‘If James does them, you have to do me,” Bob said. He may have been fourteen but he could think fast.

            There was a lively discussion between the girls. They decided not today until they had more time to think it over and talk about it.

            The girls were average C cups, healthy – not heavy, both were five seven and weighed one ten and one twenty. Bob was at least 160 and five ten and his cock was about seven inches long.

            When the hour was up, ”James, you need to take Bob to your room and fast showers – and I mean fast – then the girls and I will do the same so there are no unwanted questions by anyone. Come on guys, get with it. Dad will be home soon!”

            The girls and I went into my room. I threw an old blanket on the bed so it would not be saturated with oil. We talked while the boys showered.

            ”How did you get started shaving out in the country like this? We thought it was just a city thing,” Elsie said.

            ”It happens everywhere. For me it was a very small swimsuit that I can’t wear anywhere. I trimmed, liked the feel and then it was all gone,” I said.

            ”How about James, how long has he shaved and how long have you been doing the oil thing?” Carol asked.

            ”Yesterday was the first for both, all that hair takes up too much lotion. He caught me naked while sunning by the pool. The only way to make sure he didn’t tell Dad was to make him a partner in crime,” I said with a laugh.

            ”Would you shave us down there? We can’t do anything like that at Pop-pops – the bathroom is super small and we do not have anything to do it with and I’m sure they would never let us buy the stuff to do it with. Mom-mom and Pops watch us like hawks,” Elsie said.

            ”Dad’s going to an equipment auction in the next county the day after tomorrow. Maybe James and Bob will go with him and you could stay here,” I said.

            The boys were done and I sent the girls to shower, then I finished the cycle. We were in the kitchen when Dad came home. The meal was done; I got out the ice tea and he and James were ready to eat. Me, I had the last of the left-over spaghetti.

            I got Dad off to the side and asked if he was still going to the auction – he said he was.

            ”Can you take James and Bob with you so I can have some girl time with Elsie and Carol?” I asked.

            ”Sorry, but I already have a truck full,” he replied.

            ”OK,” was all I could say, even though I was disappointed.

            At 7 we were setting up the portable pen for the vet. After looking at it I knew what the function was. It was six gates that narrowed to two just the width of a cow. At the end of it was a big stanchion, basically two heavy metal gates that closed on the cow’s neck that were lever controlled. When they closed they locked – the cow was now trapped by the head.

            The vet could give shots, castrate, dehorn or in this case do artificial insemination. When finished the gates were opened and they were large enough for the cow to walk out. There were two bars that were slid through so the vet could not get kicked. The whole thing was fastened by driving big round stakes in the ground to hold it in place. I knew I was going to get sent to the house for this for sure.

            The vet was late; it was 9 when she arrived. Did I say she? Marie Sanger was thirtyish wearing jeans, a pair of black knee high boots that most old farmers wore and a baseball cap with her ponytail out the back.

            She walked to the fence and counted cows and looked at their general condition. She handed Dad a notebook with pictures of bulls and some of their offspring.

            ”I would chose a bull from the first ten pages for heifers, especially since you are growing them for beef. You want a bull that has a history of small solid calves with a good survival rate for the first six months. If you go with bigger bulls there may be birthing problems and you lose both about 20% of the time. I would recommend that we give them a shot of vitamins while we have them penned,” she said.

            ”How many did Jackson’s bull service?” she asked.

            ”Four of the three year olds. The heifer that he broke down was the first of the heifers.”

            Dad picked out ten from the book while she got everything ready.

            There were ten vials from the stainless tank that was very cold. Then ten long plastic hollow tubes with a little squeeze bulb on the top and ten disposable 10cc needles.

            ”Young lady, your job is to hand me the tube and the syringe when I ask for them,” she said.

            Dad was getting ready to say something and started to, but stopped.

            I guessed I was not going to be sent into the house after all.

            She sucked the contents of the vial into the plastic tube by first squeezing the bulb and filled the first syringe with a mix of vitamins. She and James herded the first victim into the stanchion as Dad controlled the gate and then James shoved the bars across.

            Wearing a long plastic glove that went to her shoulder, she squirted a glob of lube on it then – with James holding the tail off to the side – she shoved her arm up the rectum almost to her shoulder.

            ”Hand me the tube,” she said.

            I watched as she slid the tube into the cow’s vagina and squeezed the bulb again and with withdrew the tube and her crap covered hand at the same time. Peeling off the shoulder glove, she threw it on the ground.       

            ”Hand me the syringe,” she said then it was tossed over the fence and the cow let loose.

            ”Now that you have seen what I need, I want you to fill a new syringe with vitamins and a tube with serum. That way we can get this job over with quickly,” she said.

            She showed me how to get both ready, including a new shoulder glove and a regular latex glove for her other hand. Then the next cow was caught.

            I followed her instructions; sliding the plastic glove up to her shoulder and the regular glove on the other hand. In another thirty minutes we were done.

            ”You did well, if you are looking for a summer job I could use a helper,” she said.

            ”May be next year when I have a license,” I said.

            ”OK, I thought you were already sixteen, keep it in mind,” she said.

            We disassembled the pen so Dad could take it back. James and I cleaned up the trash. The vet was going to but Dad insisted that we could take care of it.

            Dad and James were gone for two hours. I was left to my own vices. I went to my room, retrieved the magazines from the hiding spot and looked at page after page of pictures. I studied every picture, every stretch and every facial expression.

            I came to the point that I could imagine if the girl was enjoying what she was doing when the picture was snapped – or not. Some were and others were not by the look on their faces and the eyes told the story for all. I decided that in a few they were in great discomfort and some in pain. Big toys and big dicks were the source of most discomforts.

            The girl on girl magazine was interesting; all of them were enjoying themselves from the smiles. I then realized that most of those pictures were staged for the camera and being a woman, if the partner was uncomfortable they changed to make it better. In the other magazine it came to me that the pictures were still shots taken while a porn movie was being made. I could see the cameras, lighting, and the crew in the shadows. These women were uncomfortable because these pictures were snapped while the action was going on. They were going to have to endure the pain until the director stopped it.      

            I saved the anal magazine for last because it had pages of articles with diagrams in it. It was more of a how to than anything like how to clean out and clean up any toys. There were articles about diet changes if anal was going to be part of normal play. Diets that needed to be heavy in fiber and drinks that helped reduce the UTI that was inevitable when sexually active, especially when anal was added to the mix. I would add both to the new grocery list, including fiber tablets just in case I wanted to experiment with James later.

            I remembered that when I was younger Mom had a drawer in her dresser that was always locked. I now wondered what if anything was in it and I remembered where she hid the key. I was watching through the slightly opened door when she was putting things away one day.

            I changed the sheets every week and knew that the room had not changed since Mom had died. Many of her things were still there where she left them. I guess Dad could not bring himself to throw them away.

            It would still be a while before they came home. I opened to door to Dad’s room and went to Mom’s dresser. I slowly began a drawer by drawer search – all the normal things were there: panties, bras, stockings, garter belts, even some lacy things. Other drawers held shorts, slacks, socks and tees. They had not been moved in five years.

            The bottom drawer was still locked. The key was still in the jewelry box. In it was baby doll pajamas, thongs, bras, crotch-less panties and bras that had holes for the nipples to be exposed.

            There were two boxes. In the first one I opened were padded handcuffs and bracelets along with clamps that I now knew were nipple clamps and other toys that I had seen in the pictures.

            In the other larger box were four dildos, from a small one and increasing in size until the big one was as big as or bigger than James. There was a harness like I had seen in the magazines and several battery powered toys. I was sure they would be no good if the batteries were left in them and they were. I was surprised when they ran a little as I turned them on.

            In that box was a packet of Polaroid pictures wrapped in plastic. I took a deep breath as I looked through them. It was Mom in the baby dolls doing all kinds of poses. There were some on her knees – naked – looking back at the photographer while smiling.

            Then there were the ones of her using the vibrators and dildos and several that took my breath. She was sucking Dad’s cock. It was every bit as large as James – maybe bigger – at various depths and one where her nose was against his shaved crotch. There was a mischievous look in her eyes and obvious pleasure. And then there were several of her wearing the strapon.

            Dad was on his knees with his hands cuffed behind his back. Another showed his butt and the dildo slick with lube just starting into his anus. I placed those back as I had found them.

            I took a couple of the midsize dildos and one vibrator to my room and carefully put things back in the drawer, locked it and put the key away.

            Mom and Dad had a kinky streak and were obviously sexually imaginative, experimental and playful and now I knew where I got my traits from. I checked all the perfumes on Mom’s dresser and remembered the smells of Mom.

            Then I went into the bathroom. There was a double sink and a double vanity that I cleaned each week since she died. I had never gone through the medicine cabinet that was on her side. Today I did.

            There were lotions and birth control pills that were long out of date and certainly not trustworthy. Then there were several tubes of lubes: KY and Anal Ease, a tube of anal lube with a numbing agent. All the tubes were hard as a brick.

            There was a box of condoms, well out of date by the number codes. I noticed they were extra-large – either they were used on the big dildo or Dad. I knew where James got his size from. I wondered why condoms had an expiration date on them. Then I realized that latex deteriorated with age and simply fell apart when touched or stretched.

            There were girls at school who had become pregnant during the school year – the story was the condom broke. But I also heard there were things that could be done to condoms that caused them to break or not work.

            When I cleaned in here on Saturday I would clean out this side without asking. Then I had a thought; I would replace the lubes with new in case Dad found a women he wanted to bring here.

            I had hooked up the tractor to the offset bush hog and was cutting along the fence line when Dad and James came home. It would take me three hours to finish just the first big pasture. It was a hot boring job, but easy because the tractor was hydrostatic with a foot pedal.

            The bush hog was on a sliding frame running low to the ground. Simply pull past a fence post and hit the lever to extend it under the fence, back up until I touched the post then forward until I touched the next post, then retract the cutter. I had to do this two hundred times just in the first pasture.

The tractor had no cab so I had put on the small bikini bottom that I was not supposed to wear and a tee that as soon as I started came off so I was topless. I also had on my sunglasses.

            It was noon time when I spied Dad coming on the Gator. I was two thirds done on the first pasture. I knew it was Dad because of the hat. James hated hats unless it was cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey – as Dad liked to say.

            I shut off the tractor, stepped down off the tractor and walked to meet Dad.

            ”What are you doing like that?” he asked.

            ”I’m multitasking; cutting the fence line and working on my tan,” I said.

            ‘‘Somebody might see you,” he said.

            ”There is only me and the cows and I don’t think they are bothered,” I said

            ”I brought some cold lemonade, what if I had sent James?” he said.

            ”He would have to stop at the barn on the way back for a jerk off session. You know he does that several times a day,” I said.

            ”How do you know that?” he asked.

            ”He thinks he is slick but there are things that gives him away,” I said.

            ”I’ll say something to him,” he said.

            ”Don’t you dare. How many times did you do it when you were his age? It wasn’t that long ago. You haven’t forgotten have you?” I said with a grin.

            ”Ugh, OK,” he said.

            I poured the rest of the lemonade into my thermos and handed him the one he brought.

            ”Dad, before you go – would you do me a favor?” I asked.

            ”Sure, what do you need?” he replied.

            ”Would you put lotion on my back?” I said as I handed him the bottle.

            I had put him in a trap. He couldn’t say no or walk away. I leaned, arms extended and spread against the tractor tire.

            ”Do my sides too while you are at it,” I said.

            He applied the lotion almost like a feather, ”Dad, you have to rub it in a little,” I said. Then he applied a little more pressure.

            ”Ok, finished,” he said.

            ”You forgot to do my sides.”

            When he finished I took the bottle, ”Thank you Dad. You know I love you. I don’t think we have told each other that enough lately. I know you loved Mom immensely as we all did and I look a lot like Mom. But you should be able to say you love me. And I do love you,” I said.

            I finished the first pasture and moved to the smaller one; it was only going to take a little over an hour. Then I was going to lay out by the pool. I put the tee back on before I drove the tractor into the shed. When I rounded the building the dually truck was backed up in front of the door. James and Dad were removing all the farm materials from the back seat and floor.

            I used the shop-vac to start on the front removing months of dirt and dozens of screws and nuts. It took two bottles of Windex to clean the dirt off the dash and the windows and a box of q-tips to detail the vents.

            ”Dad, does this thing have a fresh air filter?” “Yeah it might, the parts store sent a box of stuff. I don’t know where they went. I never got around to sending them back. They are on the back bench.”

            I found the manual in the glove box that gave the location of the filter and how to get it out. It was a wonder there was any air in the cab at all. It was packed full and even had grass sprouting in it. By luck there was one in the parts box and it fit.

            With the cab interior done, we washed the outside with the pressure washer, then hand washed it. It looked like a new truck.

            ”Farmer Jackson said his grandkids are coming over tomorrow. Is that right?” Dad asked.

            ”Yes! They are coming over after you pick up Mr. and Mrs. Jackson. I will watch after them,” I said.

            ”What are you going to do with the boys?” he said.

            ”I think there will be talk about the vet and I’m sure they will be riding the Gators. I think Bob will take advantage of a little freedom from his grandpa’s watchful eyes. I think they are riding a very close watch on them. May be you can pick up why?” I said.

            James and Dad had leftover cabbage and I cooked a steak sandwich. After the dishes were in the dishwasher I went to my room to shower and shave things smooth again, then put on pajama bottoms with a tee shirt.

            I was on the couch with James – he on one end and me on the other – when Dad decided he was going to shower. When he came out he was wearing a pair of pajamas we had given him for Christmas several years ago.

            ”I’m going to bed,. I may be gone when you get up,” he said

            I rose off the couch, ”Good night Dad. I love you,” I said as I hugged him tight and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

            ”I love you both, good night,” he said.

            Edit by Alfmeister

            Proof read by Bob W.

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The Grants Chapter 3

Dad came home a few minutes later. ”Looks like you two have been in the pool,” he said.

            ”I finally got it all cleaned up and the water feels great,” I said.

            ”Jackson’s grandkids are here for a couple weeks. I told them they could go swimming in the fresh water pond but they needed to careful. Invite them here if you want to,” Dad said.

            ”James, we need to move the bull to the pen with the last ones he serviced yesterday. I have to deliver him to Joe Brown’s farm next weekend,” Dad said.

            ”Mary, what is the plan for supper?” Dad asked.

            ”The left over spaghetti and rolls. Also, I can get enough things to make a salad from the garden,” I replied.

            ”OK, that sounds good. Give us a couple hours,” Dad said.

            That left me with two hours of free time.

            I went up and started looking at the book I had taken from under James’ mattress. I looked at pages of big dicks – James could fit in with them and in many, he was bigger. All of them were shaved to make them look longer, I noticed.

            Then as I looked at the pages of porn actresses doing deep throat I decided the real reason was so the actress did not inhale loose hair or get it in her mouth or teeth and to reduce the chance of lice. I wondered if I could get James that deep.

            There was a clipper kit in the closet that Mom used to cut Dad’s and James’ hair. I would move it to my closet.

            The next magazine was all anal I wondered how they did that? It had to hurt but everyone was smiling so it must not have been that bad. There were several articles on how to clean out, lube up and get started. I would get some the next time we went shopping and one of those hanging bag douche/enema kits. Dad dropped me off at the big box store to shop and went to the feed store or the farm dealer for parts, leaving me to do all the shopping.

            Another magazine was girls on girls. I knew what my juices tasted like; I figured all women tasted the same as long as they practiced good hygiene. There were pictures of strapons and women with their partner’s hand deep in their pussy. I never thought that was possible.

            I was just getting starting to rub when ”Mary, we need you to come help us, we have a problem,” it was Dad.

            ”OK, be right there,” I said as I hid the magazines and went to the barn.

            The bull and the cows had had a fight. The fence was broken apart – one heifer looked to have a broken leg. It would have to be put down. If she made it through the night, the locker in town would make steaks and hamburger out of her.

            Dad was shaken, he was standing by the wooden fence when the bull went through it knocking him down and almost crushing him. Farmer Brown agreed to take him early so we were going to load him tomorrow after taking the heifer to the locker plant.

            It took three hours to temporarily fix the fence with heavy oak boards and bolts, all the time keeping an eye on the bull. It was after dark when I fixed supper. James and Dad were showering and cleaning up. They both stunk like cow crap.

            We ate quietly, lost in our own thoughts, until Dad said, ”Work up a grocery list and after we drop the cow to the locker you can shop while I get some replacement lumber.”

            With the list done I said goodnight. I was in the bathroom shaving things when James opened his door and stepped in wearing nothing but his boxers and watched.

            I put the box with the clippers on the vanity, pulled his boxers to the floor allowing his big dick to appear half mast and a towel for him to stand on.

            “What are you doing?” he said.

            ” Be quiet, do you want Dad to hear?” I said.

            Using the clippers, all the hair was on the towel. With a small trimmer clippers it was cut close. I wet his groin with a hot cloth then covered it with my shaving gel. When I was finished he was a smooth as I was.

            With the shower running and hot I pushed him in and washed him – first his back and then his front – washing off all the gel and stroked that big dick a few times. He stood there looking lost as I washed myself.

            ”Go lock your door while I clean up in here. Then come to my room,” I said.

            When he came to my room I was sitting on a towel on the edge of my bed.

            ”My turn now, so get licking,” I said.

            ”I have never done this,” he said.

            ”I have never had it done either so we will experience the first time together,” I said as I directed him how I thought would be the most comfortable for both. I spread my legs and had him knee walk between them. When he touched my pussy I put my legs over his shoulders and rested them on his back.

            He started tentatively with a light licking on the clit. ”No, not there not yet,” I said.

            ”Tease it, lick around the lips down to my butt hole and back up to the top I think. Do that for a while and then lick around my clit for a little and repeat,” I said.

            ”Oh, that’s good! Do that some more,” I said.

            ”And that too,” I added.

            I started moving my bottom, lifting and sliding it against his tongue. I was picking up speed and so was his tongue. I put my hands on his head to pull him tighter against my pussy. For some reason ‘pussy’ was the only word I wanted to use for that area, a word I had never used before.

            My breathing suddenly got fast and my thighs started quivering, my hips moving like I was running against his face. I was cuming and cuming hard. I pulled the pillow over my face and screamed, my orgasm was so strong. James sensed what had happened, slowed down and pulled away as my legs fell to his side.

            ”Are you all right?” he asked.

            ”Better than alright! Let me rest a minute. Better yet, come here and kiss me,” I said as I pushed myself on the bed.

            ”My face is messy,” he said.

            ”I don’t care – I made it that way,” I said.

            I licked his face clean while tasting my spend, then I attacked his mouth and tried every kissing style I had seen or dreamed about.

            I climbed on him with that big dick pointing towards his head, rested my clit and lips on it and started sliding back and forth on it as I kissed him again. The tremors of my orgasm returned and grew stronger. I came again and again.

            ”If you don’t stop, I’m going to come again,” he said.

            ”Please don’t, I’m not finished with you yet,” I said.

            I worked my way between legs and slowly licked my juices from him. I wished I had left the light on so I could get a good look at his cock but I had not. I slowly licked the head, then put it in my mouth going deeper and deeper. I hit my gag reflex and I had to pull back but I kept trying, gagging each time it went there.

            I knew there had to be a secret. Wait a minute – food goes past the gag reflex and you don’t gag. That’s it; quickly go past it. I moved to a better position and angled his cock. Then I stroked faster, my drool wetting his cock. I added going deeper – just quickly hitting the gag reflex and pulling away before I could gag.

            On the next stroke I shoved down hard, past the gag reflex; at least two inches went down my throat. I felt my throat stretch – it hurt, or did it? I pulled off back to just touching the reflex. Then another deep one past the reflex – no it didn’t hurt – not really, just a different feeling. I repeated the sequence, several shallow then one deep then two deep then one of each.

            James suddenly placed his hands on my head, ” I’m going to cum.”

            I increased my effort, sucking harder and stroking faster. He groaned and I felt his cock throb then the pulses. It was in my throat but not a deep as it had been. I kept swallowing with each pulse and for some reason I counted, there were five big ones and then several small ones.

            I slid my fingers from the base up to my lips then closed my lips tight and lifted my mouth off his cock and swallowed. Then I licked the last drop off the tip. I moved up to lay beside James and kissed him deep and hard.

            ”Time for you to go to your room. It would not be good for Dad to find you here in the morning,” I said.

            The house was alive early and we had a breakfast of cereal and toast. It took an hour to get the cow with the broken leg into the trailer. Dad pulled up in front of the box store and gave me the bank card.

            ”I’m going to the parts store to pick up my order and then the lumber company so we can fix the fence.”

            I took two carts and began, starting first in the pharmacy section. Shaving cream for Dad and James, shaving gel for me with a bottle of lotion to help with razor burn along with several bottles of SPF 50 lotion now that the pool was open. There were also tampons that I would need in a few days and ladies razors for my legs and pussy.

            There were things that I shouldn’t have bought but I was going to pay for them with my allowance money; KY lube, a box or two of condoms and a hot water bottle/enema kit. I paid for them at the register there and double bagged them.

            Then I started serious shopping – when I was finished I had two rounded carts. Dad called just as I finished checking out to say he was in the parking lot. We stacked the bags in the back seat of the truck’s crew cab and the heavy stuff in the back.

            At home all three of us carried them in, filling the counter and kitchen table. Then we unloaded the lumber and parts Dad had purchased into the shop and shed. Finally it was time to load the bull-headed bull. It was one mess as he tried to crash the fence again. We were all gad to see him in the livestock trailer.

            ”When you finish putting the groceries away, ride the fences to make sure none of the cows got stupid last night. The Ag Co-op is going to send the vet to do artificial insemination on the rest of the cows tomorrow morning.”

            “It’s going to be late when James and I get back. Mr. Brown needs help cutting out cattle for the bull to service,” Dad said.

            I watched the cloud of dust follow the truck down the lane. I spent an hour putting groceries away and the things in my room. I read the instructions on the enema bag and hid it in my closet. The lube I opened and placed in my night stand by my bed and the condoms a couple of drawers down in my dresser.

            I filled the Gator with gas and brought a bag with the blanket and couple towels; if I had time I would skinny dip for a while. There was nothing wrong with the fences as I quickly rode past them. I drove across the cattle gate and into the field with the pond, parking at water’s edge.

            I spread out the blanket and towel and then dropped my shorts, shirt, bra and panties onto the towel and ran naked into the water.

            The pond was big, one hundred and fifty yards across. It was the perfect place to swim the laps that I did at a leisurely pace. I swam all the different strokes that I knew, then repeated them.

            I was all the way over to the other side for the tenth time when the Jackson’s Gator came puttering to the pond with the three Jackson grandkids aboard. Wasn’t much I could do about it now, so I continued swimming and finally headed back towards the Gator.

            They were standing by my blanket; the girls were in shorts and old fashioned bikini tops. When I had reach shallow water I stood up and walked ashore.

            ”Hi, I’m Mary and if I remember correctly you are Elsie, Carol and Robert Jr.,” I said as I gave the girls a hug and shook Bob’s hand. Elsie was the oldest at fifteen, within days of being sixteen like me. Carol was just fifteen and Robert fourteen – and big for being fourteen.     

            ”I’m swimming some laps and I have a few minutes left before I have to go work on supper – join me if you like,” I said as I turned and walked to the water and dove in.

            ”What are you doing,” it was Robert asking.

            ”Boring vacation – no way, not any more, I can’t wait to tell my friends I went skinny dipping with a new friend. They will never believe it,” it was Elsie talking.

            ”Me to. Wait, I’m coming,” that was Carol.

            There were three splashes behind me so I slowed a bit to allow them to catch up. We swam laps for the next thirty minutes.

            ”I have to go and start supper. If you want, follow me home and we can swim in the pool after I get supper started,” I said.

            I dried off and put on my shorts and shirt minus the panties and bra. They were debating on what they wanted to do. Robert was trying hard to hide a semi erection. On the other hand the girls were proud of the hard pointy nipples they were displaying from the cold water and the light breeze blowing across them. They were also peppering me with dozens of questions!

            ”Just follow the path outside the fence if you decide to. If not, maybe we can meet here in a day or two,” I said.

            Edit by Alfmeister

            Proof read by Bob W.

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The Grants Chapter 2

I didn’t know what time Dad and James came to bed; I must have been sound asleep. James woke me up twice with his heavy breathing before getting quiet.

            I woke early and put on the banned bikini with a tee shirt over it. I was going to vacuum the pool this morning after a breakfast of cereal and then lay out to start on my tan.

            I heard Dad and James come out and go to the barn and then the ruckus began.    

            I cleaned for three hours as the sun got hotter and hotter. When I finished it was clear enough to swim in and I would later. The water temperature was 75F, a little cool. I turned on the pool heater and set it to 80F.

            I was finished and laying out the blanket when I heard the truck start and drive off down the lane. Dad for sure and possibly James were gone.

            I took off the skimpy suit and applied tanning lotion to my front side, set the timer and spread out in the sun. I must have napped and had the same silly dream I had last night. I was naked on my knees with James off to my side going moo, moo, moo.

            The alarm to turn over went off – just as it did I heard the door shut; James was bringing me a glass of lemonade. I should have been startled but we had been skinny dipping for years.

            I accepted the drink then tossed him the lotion and lay on my front.

            ”Oil my back side – all of it,” I said.

            ”I can’t do that,” James said.

            ”Sure you can, you have been wanting to touch me for a long time! I noticed the bulge in your pants all the time and the hard on at the pond wasn’t because of the cow. Oil me, stop stalling and rub it in good – don’t just slobber in on me.”

            He started on my shoulders and neck, then worked his way down, stopping at the butt crack.

            ”Don’t forget the back of my arms and sides,” I said.

            He spent plenty of time on my sides especially the boob side bulge before moving to my legs and feet. I spread my legs wide so he could do the insides. He stopped just inches from my crotch.

            ”James, you have to do all of me even my ass cheeks and butt crack including my exposed mound. I don’t want to get sunburn anywhere,” I said.

            ”I don’t want to touch you there,” he said.

            ”James you have to – please finish the job,” I said.

            He slowly spread the oil and with a feather touch spread the oil on the cheeks and down the crack past the brown hole and over my mound and inner thighs.

            ”Thanks,” I said.

            ”The pool looks good, I’m going to go get my shorts in case Dad comes back early. He said he was going to be gone till late afternoon,” James said.

            I knew where he was going and that was to jerk off again. It was a wonder he had not ripped his pants as large as the bulge was.

            A few minutes later he dropped his towel and shorts on the blanket, slid into the pool naked and started doing laps.

            Thirty minutes later the bell dinged that it was time to roll over as James climbed out of the pool.

            ”Let me dry off and oil your front and you oil me, then I will sun with you and we can talk,” he said.

            ”That’s fair enough,” I said.

            I watched him dry off as I oiled my face and neck and lay back to wait on him.

            ”May be this is a bad idea,” James said.

            ”No. Get on with it,” I said.              

            I tried not to laugh as he started with my feet and legs stopping again four inches from my crotch. This was going to be interesting.

            He started at my neck and worked down. James looked me in the eyes as he oiled my boobs – both of them at the same time with both hands – staying a long time on my nipples. When he finished with them they were standing tall as a thimble and hard as a carrot. They weren’t the only thing that was hard either.

            He was and my clit was too and it was on fire – wanting to be rubbed – it was all I could do to lie still. My stomach was quickly rubbed and then with a hand full of oil he covered my mound. I spread my legs wide and he rubbed all around getting my upper thighs where he had missed. James went back to my mound, spreading the lips, covering them with oil. I stopped his hand.

            ”Use two fingers like this,” and then I guided them to my clit.

            ”Do slow gentle circles. Feel that bump – that is my clit. Be gentle, it is the most sensitive part – do circles around it,” I said.

            I put my hand on his, ”Here, let me show you,” as I began the circles.

            My clit was throbbing, my hips were starting to move. I was close, very close.

            ”Don’t stop what you are doing, kiss me now,” I don’t know why I said it but I pulled his head to me. The instant his lips touched mine I pushed my tongue in and then lifted my hips off the blanket. I cried out almost a scream, ”I’m going to cum!” as the orgasm took over my body. I increased the pressure on his hand and moved it faster as my body shook from head to foot.

            Finally I pulled our hands away, I was just too sensitive there, gasping for breath.

            Recovering I asked “Is that the first time you have touched a girl there?”

            ”Yes and it felt great. So that’s how you rub,” he said.

            ”Depending on my mood, I may change it up some,” I said.

            ”Now my turn to oil you up. Lay back and relax,” I said.

            James wasn’t that hairy. I started at his face and worked down. I oiled and played with his nipples wondering if it was having the same effect on him as it did on me.

            He had been hard since he had first touched me, poking me in the side with it many times. I did notice it throbbed each time I squeezed them and felt the little nipple in my fingers.

            I skipped his cock and did his legs and feet. I had to nudge his leg apart. I oiled his nuts and then started on his cock, looking into his eyes as I rubbed, oiled and massaged it. Then I began to stroke like I thought he would. Slowly at first while spreading the oil on and around the top of it; that looked to be as big as a plum.

            I had quickly looked at the magazines under his mattress. James was as big around as any in the pictures and longer than most. He certainly wasn’t this big at the pond the other day so he must not have been fully hard.

            I started stroking, sometimes using both hands and there was still cock above them. I guessed he was easily ten inches, maybe more. James started humping at my hand movement and moaning.

            I wondered what his cum looked like – was it really white, what did it taste like – was it really salty and bitter? The pictures showed women with a mouth full and some swallowing. Ginger Snow – one of my active dating girl friends at school – said she used blow jobs to keep her boyfriends out of her pussy. She said she always swallowed and if the cock was deep enough in her mouth there was no taste, otherwise it was salty and bitter at times.

            I picked up speed – so did James’ moans and movements – his eyes were getting bigger all the time.

            ”I’m going to cum,” James said a little too loud. I made a split second decision. I bent over and sucked the plum sized knob into my mouth and kept stroking and added licks and suction.

            I felt the pulses with my hands, one, two, three big ones and several smaller ones. My mouth was full after the first one so I swallowed – and swallowed and swallowed.

            I set backed on my haunches and looked at James. He was staring at me mouth wide. Finally,” WOW, did we just do that?” he asked.

            ”Yes we did and it tasted like coconut sun tanning lotion,” I said before we were both laughing.

            I laid back on the blanket and gasped while catching my breath. I hit the timer and an hour later had to prod James to turn. I oiled his back with no playing and hit the button again, still wondering about what we had done.

            The next time the bell went off I prodded James to get up, ”Dad might be home soon. We don’t want him to catch us like this. Go take a shower while I’ll put the stuff away.”

            The blanket went into the washer, the little bikini onto my dresser and the lotion on the stand by the back door.

             I was still naked when James came down. ”My turn,” I said. Ten minutes later I was stepping out of the shower to see him leaning against the counter, watching me.

            Our bathroom was connected to both James’ and my bedroom, a door on each end. If the light was on one of us waited or went to the half bath in the hall. Dad’s bedroom had a much larger bath.

            ”It just dawned on me just how beautiful and sexy you are. I guess I am just a big dope, we grew up and I never noticed. You are really beautiful,” he said as he started to walk away.

            I pulled him to me and kissed him on the lips. ”Thank you,” I said.

Ten minutes later I was sitting on the couch beside him in a sports bra and shorts, wondering what he saw in the stupid movie he was watching.

Edit by Alfmeister

Proof read by Bob W.

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The Grant’s Chapter 1

Mary and James Grant were the last two kids on the bus. They were the first two that got on the bus at 6:30 AM for the ride to school. It was an hour ride and they were last two that got off the bus at 6 PM. It was one long day. The bus dropped them off at the end of their lane. School was fifty miles away.

            If the weather was good, they rode their bikes the two miles to and from the house. If it was bad, either they rode the enclosed Gator or Dad let them drive one of the old Chevy four wheel drive pickups and park it in the corner of the field at the end of the lane.

            Mary and James took turns driving the truck home; they had been driving since they were ten. Brother and sister, they both had just turned fifteen. Mary was the older of the two, born in January – James in November.

            Amy – their mother – had been a doll and idolized both kids. Mary took after her in the looks department. At five eight Mary had her long blond hair and beautiful face. She also had her mother’s boobs. At fifteen they were D cup and were high with no sag. The rest of her body was lean with a nicely formed tight butt.

            James took after Sherman, their Dad – tall and muscular and hung were it counted. They had been skinny dipping more than once this summer and eyeing each other every chance they could get.

            There was a big pool in the back yard and Amy had taught both kids to swim. The pool was one of the highlights of family fun in the summer but there were others. There were several ponds that were used for irrigation and of course skinny dipping.

            There were two Gators and a four wheeler. As they grew older, on Saturday and Sundays afternoons Mary and James rode them to look at the fences and to check the pastures, looking for broken fences, injured cows or new calves. If they found nothing wrong they had time for a little joy riding and in hot weather always ended up at the stream fed fresh water pond.          

            There were no other kids within miles. School and any activities in the town were twenty five miles away so joining any school sports or after school activities were out of the question, except for rare occasions.

            There was a trip to town every two or three weeks to the big box stores so there was a big list and advance planning required for anything that was to happen in between.

            The farm was big with corn, soybeans, wheat and hay. Much of it was sold but enough had to be kept to feed the twenty five cattle that Dad kept for food to eat and to sell a few to get extra spending money.

            Because there was just the three of them, what money they had Dad invested in the latest labor saving farm equipment; a big tractor with big chisel, disc, planter and combine. Mary and Jim were educated very early on how to operate equipment.    

            There were just the three of them because Amy passed when the kids were ten. She was fine one day, sick the next and passed two days later at the hospital, leaving the family shocked.

            Dad’s brothers and their wives tried to get us away from Dad – first with kindness, then threats and finally with lawyers. Dad had a better lawyer and the facts that we refused to leave our father and we didn’t want to be separated.

            School was out and all the early corn was planted. The soybeans wouldn’t be planted until the winter wheat was harvested the first of July, still a few weeks away.

            Dad had left to go to Amos Jackson’s farm to pick up a bull to breed some cows that were due to be bred in the next couple months. It was the cycle that happened with beef cattle on the farm. Bred then there would be calves. The males would be neutered, fattened for a year and killed for the freezer or sold to customers that wanted to know the source of their meat.

            While Dad was gone James and I rode the fences. It was hot and we were hot from helping Dad get the pen ready for the bull. He had to be kept up or heifers that were too young may get bred.

            I grabbed a blanket and couple of towels from the house and threw on the Gator. If we hurried we could end up at the pond with time for a swim before he got back. The pool was still loaded with chemicals cleaning it from the winter and it would still need a couple weeks.

            James and I each had a Gator and drove fast along all the fences finding nothing wrong; we ended up at the pond in twenty minutes. Throwing our clothes on the Gator, James and I spread out the blanket and towels and ran into the refreshing water naked.

            We swam for ten minutes before we needed to get out and dry off. We laid on the blanket in the hot sun to warm up and finish drying off.

            ”I wonder if Dad will send me into the house this time when the cows are let into the pen,” I said. Dad had always sent me into the house saying, ‘This is not something girls should see.’

            ”I have already had sex education class – not once but twice – because the Sex Ed teacher messed the class up the first time with half truths and misinformation. It’s not like don’t know what was going to happen,” I said.

            ”Cows stand still if they are ready for the bull, the bull jumps up and sticks his cock in her and months later a calf comes out,” I said.

            ”Just how do you connect that to the Sex Ed class you just described?” James asked as he turned on his side towards me.

            ”Girls do the same thing when they are ready, only we lay and spread or we could do it on our knees like a cow – only the boobs are on the wrong end,” I said laughing.

            ”Where did you get all this information or have you tried them?” James asked.

            ”Sex Ed and from the net,” I said.

            ”Why are you sticking out like that? Don’t tell me thinking about cows made you that way,” I said.

            ”No – looking at you and your boobs was enough. Why are you smooth down there?” James said.

            ”I started shaving last year when I got the new swim suit Dad won’t let me wear. It was all sticking out of the crotch. Once I did, I found I liked it smooth – now I keep it that way. We had been skinny dipping several times last year after I started and you’re just now noticing?” I said.

            I had bought two swimsuits with my allowance last fall. One of them was the small bikini Dad forbid me to wear and the other was a thong that was just patches. I had tried them on and quickly decided shaving was a must to ever wear them.

            ”We never talked about sex before and cows fucking,” James said.

            ”You better not let Dad here you say that word or he will kick your butt hard,” I said.

            Jimmy laughed.

            ”What’s so funny?” I asked.

            ”I just had a vision of you on your knees with your boobs hanging. I’d like to see that,” he said.

            ‘That’s all it will ever be is a vision,” I said as I hit him.

            ”To change the subject, how much longer are you going to jerk into your underwear before you put a box of tissues by your bed?” I said.

            ”I don’t do that,” James said.

            ”I do the laundry, remember. How often do you do it – three of four times a day?” I asked.

            ”Is that why you keep a box by your bed? Do you rub one off?” James said to change the direction of the conversation.

            ”What if I do – are you going to peek through the keyhole and watch? Besides, I don’t make a mess,” I said.

            I reached over and smacked his dick and said, ”Down boy.” It wilted fast.

            ”You might get lucky and he will let you stay and watch this year,” James said.

            ”I’m not holding my breath. I would have a better chance of watching you beat off through the keyhole,” I said.

            ”How do you know when I’m doing that?” James asked.

            ‘‘You’re noisy and you breath like a race horse at the end,” I said as I was getting my clothes back on.

            ”Then you have been watching me,” James said.

            ”There is a dust cloud coming up the lane; Dad will soon be home. We need to get back there fast,” I said as I was putting the towels and blanket in my Gator.

            I was ahead of James by fifty yards when we reached the shed. Dad was just backing up to the pen with the trailer. A few minutes later the bull was standing at the fence bellowing repeatedly at the cows. The cows were all at the fence snorting like crazy. They must be able to smell the bull I thought.

            I wondered just how many times he was moved from farm to farm. The big bull was acting like he knew what he was to do. The biology class had said that humans were the only species that had any pleasure from sex. For animals it was just reproduction, maintaining the species. I wondered about that with the way the bull and the cows were carrying on.

            Dad and James decided to open the gates so they could mingle before they broke the fencing.

            ”Go to the house Mary,” Dad said.

            ”Dad, I know what they’re going to do. I had AG class, remember?” I said protesting.

            ”GO TO THE HOUSE,” he said.

            I was mad, very mad as I went to the house. To me it didn’t make any sense. I started the normal Saturday cleaning; it was the only day that everything got cleaned from top to bottom. Normally James helped with taking the trash out and sometimes dusting, if there was nothing to do outside.

            I started the wash – starting with mine first – including stripping the bed. I ran the vacuum, swept the floors then mopped them. I could clearly see James and Dad watching the bull serenade the cows. He was going to be busy for the next few days. The cows that Dad wanted bred had been given a fertility drug so they would all be in heat when the bull was here. All that only made me madder.

            I gathered all the trash in bags – all the junk mail and several months of magazines that had come in the mail the last couple of months. I was tired of piling the mess up day after day; now they would be gone forever. The bathrooms and bedrooms trash cans all went in one bag, everything else in several others. I placed a box of tissues on James’s night stand just to gig him.

            When I was finished there were four bags. Normally I would have carried them to the dumpster by the barn but today I piled them on the walkway. If I wasn’t allowed to the barn, I was not going to the dumpster.

            I opened all the windows and doors to allow the house to air out while I dusted. Even after all that, James and Dad were still at the pound. When the bull finished with one cow James and Dad moved it to another pen. He wanted the bull to spend in a different cow until they all had at least once. The older cows were going to be first. Then they would be put together again for a repeat performance.

            I put on the swim suit that Dad hated and started cleaning the pool. I cleaned it twice, including back flushing the filters. Then I checked the chemicals and added more. One more cleaning and it would be clean enough to swim in; all the algae was almost gone. I put in a lot more chemicals than the instructions said to help it along.

            I cut the grass around the concrete pad with the push mower with the bagger. I had a devil of a time getting it started.

            Finally I hosed off the concrete pad and placed the umbrellas, tables and chairs on the pad. I left one side open for the air mattress and blanket so I could sunbathe if I wanted to tomorrow or Sunday.

            Pulling on a long tee shirt for a cover up, I started supper at four. Like it or not, tonight it was spaghetti – heavy on the meat sauce – with ground beef. While it was cooking I finished the laundry. I stacked Dad’s clothes on his bed after I made it with the clean sheets.

            James’ bed I had stripped to wash after finding dozens of dried spots on the sheets. When I moved the mattress to put on the clean sheets I found his stash – dozens of men’s magazines of all kinds. I took several that looked interesting and hid them in my room to look at later.

            I wondered where he got them from. I knew he could not have bought them in town and risk bringing them home when we went shopping, even though we both received an allowance. It was with that allowance that I bought the new swim suits last year.

            Then I remembered that Tony Simkins got into trouble this year for buying things from the adult store and bringing them to school. Tony was a senior, he had made extra money out of buying and selling stuff from the store. Rumor was his Dad was part owner.

            There were a couple of senior girls supplying things for the girls – vibrators, dildos and such. I thought about getting one because my girlfriend at school said she had one and always talked about how good they made her feel when she used them.

            When supper was ready I made the pop and fresh biscuits to go with the pasta. I yelled for James and Dad to come eat. I listened quietly while they were discussing when to let the bull back with the cows he had not mated with yet like I wasn’t even there. They had penned him up separately for the night.

            I put the dishes in the dishwasher while they went back out to the barn. I showered and went to bed still mad! I hadn’t said a word all night; neither had they.

            Edit by Alfmeister

            Proof read by Bob W.

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New Short story coming soon. ‘The Grants’

It will be a story of sex and incest.

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Book 2 Chapter 200

Tuesday morning the first call before the day had even started was from party chairman Carl Isham. The party had succeeded in purchasing two blocks of time on the three major networks at 2000; the beginning of prime time. Each was on Monday evening so one would air the evening before most states opened early voting and the other eve of the general election.

            General Ingram was the next in with updates on the troop withdraw and the fleet exercise in the South China Sea. North Korea had suddenly gone quiet and patrol boats that had been acting like a bunch of busy bees disappeared back to their ports.

            Secretary of State Dean was in next. We had a two hour discussion on Iran and the election of delegates to modify and approve the proposed constitution. The election had gone well with almost no problems. Most of the problems were from confusion and an attempt to do things the old way.

            The Army demolition unit was still destroying weapons and explosives collected from the population and former military sites. So far there had been no mishaps. Citizens were still turning in weapons and pointing out former military storage sites.

            I was added to a conference call with Andy, Vicky, Ching Lee and Jenny. The discussion was about hiring more people for the security department. Black and Bear were working on more contracts for southern Africa and we were still short for Cameroon and Nigeria.

            ”If we are short people then hiring is a no brainer, but don’t forget that in eighty days you are going to get the thousand back from the Iran contract,” I said.

            ”These numbers we need are assuming the men in Iran are going back to their assigned work areas in eighty days,” Vicky replied.

            “Work up a poster and I will see it gets posted at the military bases, recreation areas, on bulletin boards and to the teams doing departure interviews. That about all I can do at this time,” I said.

            ”That’s all we can ask. We didn’t know if that avenue was still open to us or not,” Vicky said.

            ”Everything is supposed to ready at 1900 for you to make the TV commercials at the campaign center tonight. Carl has several scripts that look good. They are going to shoot some fifteen and thirty second ads as well,” Jenny said.

            ”I’ll be there on time, see you then,” I said as I closed out of the conversation.

            At noon media sites were going crazy and the Finney campaign was playing defense and cover-up. Finney was suddenly unavailable for his daily press briefing, promo breaks or anything.

            His media person refused to answer any questions. The police departments that had covered up the incidents were being hounded by reporters for statements. The police officers that made the stops and arrests were being hounded by reporters for statements. Freedom of information request papers were flying in every direction.

            The diehard liberal stations were already claiming the data bogus, possibly fabricated and unreliable; some even reporting it came from abroad.

            Russia was always an easy target but then Britain’s MI 5 was gaining reputation for dirty tricks as were Romania, North Korea, China and the Czech Republic.

            The Justice Department was being called upon to investigate its source and authenticity. Liberal Senators and Representatives were calling for an immediate Congressional investigation.

            With Congress on recess in a few days, nothing would be done before the election. The freedom of information requests could take months, depending how hard the individual agencies wanted to fight them.

            At 1800 I was walking through the door to the campaign headquarters – greeting people – as I made my way to the rear of the building where I knew the recording studio was.

            Carl Isham, Paul Ryder and a dozen more were waiting with my mates. We had a good laugh about Albert Finney’s problems today. He did offer a half assed apology last night, obviously not serious. That didn’t matter now – he was between a rock and a hard place while looking for a cave to hide in.

            With the liberal mentality that they could do no wrong, I figured his woes would last a week before his liberal media backers would have done everything to squash it and change the direction of the public’s focus.

            I read all the scripts several times then read them out loud. Two makeup ladies worked their magic. There were also three changes of clothes to see what the camera liked best. When everyone was satisfied, I stood on the X taped to the floor.

            Behind me was the black draped wall with the flag of the President and the United States. There were lighting people and several different camera men for camera angles.

            What I was to say was projected on large screen ahead of me; an oversize teleprompter. I did each of the long speeches four times – they were for the five minute national ad buys for the two Monday nights. I changed clothes three times and repeated the speeches.

            While the professionals reviewed all the videos and edited them, I worked on ads for the fifteen Senate races I wanted to keep. I was going to campaign with each of them at least once over the next two weeks.

            After that there were voice recordings made endorsing conservatives running for House seats, especially those races that were going to be close. I was going to do hundreds of them or as many as I had time.

            The old standby was brought in for a quick supper. There was pizza from almost every pizza shop in the area for everyone in the building. Pizza must be some kind brain food; it was always the go-to food when things were complicated or rushed.

            Many of the scripts were the same, just a name change and sometimes adding a precinct or district. Cue cards had already been filled out to speed things up. I was doing one every forty five seconds with multiple devices recording.

            I was finished at midnight and called for a quick meeting with my mates, Carl and Paul. I wanted to know from Carl the financial situation – how we were doing on contributions – would the party have enough funds for a final media push in the final week?

            I was glad to hear contributions were up considerably, but. There was always that word – but. For the next twenty minutes Jenny laid out how the Super PAC was going to help the fifteen Senate candidates and many of those running for the house spots.

            The Senate candidates were in a tough spot. Even though some big spending liberals had died, the liberal candidates still had plenty of money. With decisions made I flew back to Washington. One of those decisions was more polling on the Senate candidates and assigning someone to help them and improve the numbers.

            The Generals were in early with updates. Another ten thousand troops were going to be coming home from Iran starting today. The rest of the National Guard was also coming home. It would be a slower pace for them because they had to pack up equipment to bring with them.

            The investigation into the New York mess was in its third week of work. The debris from the Soweto was being hauled away to a landfill where authorities could go through it with rakes, picks and shovels and could fill cases of evidence bags.

            They had learned a lot from the twin towers collapse. It went slow at the beginning but moved a lot faster at the end. New York started out using the faster method this time.

            Eric Roberson – Director of Homeland Security – was at the door.

            ”We have problem with the Bloomfield building. NYFD is refusing to enter the building to search it for bodies. The building is swaying, moving way more than normal in even a light wind.”

            ”Engineers are wanting to clear all the debris from the Soweto building and blow the pillars to cause the Bloomfield building to fall into the vacant lot that once held the Soweto building,” Eric added.

            ”That sounds like a reasonable plan to me. I guess the mathematics have been double checked to make sure the Bloomfield building will fit in the lot under those conditions. What about the explosion of debris to the adjacent buildings on both sides of the streets?” I asked.

            ”What kind containment plan had been developed for that?” I added.

            ”They are going to plywood the fronts of all the buildings sixteen feet high. In front of that they are going to hang heavy duty blast curtains one hundred feet high off crane booms held by cables.”

            ”At the time of the demolition the fire department is going to flood the lot and the falling debris with water from dozens of ladder and tower trucks to keep the deadly dust down,” Eric said.

            ”All that sounds reasonable, so what is the problem?” I asked.

            ”They want to know if the military will use helicopters and blast the pillars next to the Soweto property to make it collapse that way?” Eric said.

            ”There is no guarantee for sure what way it will fall unless they attach cables to winches to put tension on it. I can’t see the military wanting the liability unless they do something to increase the chances of success besides potluck,” I said.

            ”What about a demo company to put it on the ground?” I said.

            ”Four of the biggest have been to look at it and want nothing to do with it,” Eric replied.

            ”I’ll call them up and tell them to do more engineering. But you would authorize Army helicopters to blow the pillars?” Eric asked.

            ”I’m sure the General will want the Army to do an assessment of their own. If they are satisfied I will approve it,” I said.

            Using military equipment and missiles in a civilian setting carried all kinds of risk. But – there was that word again – but a quarter of Wall Street was shut down from the explosions.

            The Bloomfield building was sitting there teetering on the edge. It would eventually come down on its own but when? A week, a month, six months and in what direction would it fall? It needed to come down on New York’s schedule and place of choosing and soon.

            A quarter of Wall Street was shut down, seven city blocks out of the middle of it. Seven city blocks with heavy damage and depending on the Bloomfield building, how soon they could be repaired? Buildings in twenty blocks had damage.

            Wednesday morning was the last day before the congressional break and Congress was deadlocked on two bills that needed to be passed. Important people that should have been on the floor were packing up. Vice President Harrison was in the Senate chambers instead of campaigning.

            At 1500 I closed my desk and rode to Andrews to start four and a half days of campaigning. This trip was a mix of must win states and campaigning for the Senate seats I wanted to add on my side. Some of these states I had been to already as many as three times and would repeat several more times before Election Day.

             It was Sunday night before I got together with my mates. Air Force One landed at Morton Field at 0000. My mates were waiting for me. We made up for time apart behind closed doors; I was spending Monday at home to be with my family and boys.

            We were late getting to the kitchen for breakfast. We six girls in the big shower turned into too much fun. When I dressed, I need to wear a turtle neck to hide the evidence of too much fun last night and this morning. It had been too long and our bodies and souls needed that kind of rush.

            Today was going to be a mix of Presidential, JBG and campaign things – in that order. I spent the morning on MTAC to first the Generals, then to Dick James of the State Department and finally to my staff at the White House.

            I had lunch with the girls and boys. After that there were a couple hours of JBG business I was caught up on.

            Lorrie now had eighteen full service truck stops open for business with eight more to be open by the New Year. It was now a separate division with a VP reporting to Lorrie. Lorrie had four thousand rental houses on the Gulf Coast and East Coast. The two islands in the Caribbean, the French Alps ski resort and two ski resorts in the Rockies were under a VP reporting to Lorrie.

            Jones Aviation – including the fuel farms and the fuel terminal on the bay – was under a VP reporting to Lorrie. Jones Aviation now had – with the latest acquisitions – twenty five C5 M models, thirty 747s; twenty as water tankers for forest fire fighting under contract to the US Forest service, five in passenger configuration and five in freighter configuration. JBG Aviation had ten C130s; two C130 L models and two C130J models.

            JBG Aviation had four hundred Black Hawk helicopters with three hundred eighty other helicopters – mostly Bell 406 – leased to the State Department. There were fifty Gulfstream G5, G550s, and G650 long range in the fleet.

            There were fifty Air Tractor turboprop ground support planes in the security department in Mexico, Central America, South Africa, Nigeria and Cameroon.

            There were also three Boeing business jets under multiple short term leases and two Bombardier 200 commercial propeller planes under contract doing daily commuter flights. There was a third 200 for backup. There were many more inspections required on commuter aircraft. There were another fifty smaller prop and jet planes used on lease, training or rentals.

            The security department was split a couple different ways. The college security was five thousand strong and answered to a VP who reported to Ching Lee and also included other security projects. Those projects were VIPs who we furnished bodyguards for, mall security, convention and stadium security. The Polokwane operation reported to Ching Lee with its security group reporting to Andy. The PR department and all advertising reported to Ching Lee.

            The embassy security group reported to a VP who answered to Vicky, Andy and Robert. The political needs went to Vicky and security to Andy with the intelligence gathering to Robert. All intelligence from all gathering sites went to Roberts’s group. Each embassy security team had at least three intelligence officers who monitored classified things twenty four hours a day.

            The Pact country security arrangement was heavy on intelligence gathering as were the OPEC contract sites. Many sites often had a CIA person or persons working with them. The CIA paid JBG handsomely for the privilege; in many cases the CIA carried only the JBG IDs.

            The Mexican security, the security zone leaders, the Pact countries leaders reported to Andy.

            The four training sites – Fort Smith, Polokwane, Fort Adams and Fort Dean – reported to Andy thorough a commander at each.

            Human relations, legal and training – both for security and other needs – reported to Jason and Jenny through vice presidents. Human relations did all hiring, firing, benefits. The legal department covered all legal needs plus Curtis Warren’s law firm was on payroll when needed and for international needs.

            Marcy was President and Chief Financial Officer since I had become active in the Task Force. MAAR – thru several vice presidents – reported to Marcy as well as did all the accounting.

            MAAR owned three hundred thousand automobiles and other equipment. Fifty thousand were leased to five utilities including bucket, line trucks, bulldozers and everything that moved on tracks or wheels. Another two thousand were leased to the US government and other governments. These were armored Suburbans at two hundred thousand each and the ones to the US government had to be replaced with new ones every five years.

            Ones that came out of service were rehabbed and used for our security divisions. Those that had reached end of life were cut up for scrap in back lots or used for training. No armored Suburbans were sold to the general public.

            In the accounting division was the tax section; it was responsible for all things taxed worldwide – taxes we paid to states, property taxes to foreign governments, payroll taxes to federal and state – everything. We had hired dozens of former IRS personnel for that department.

            They estimated taxes we would owe and how to offset them by buying property and equipment from golf carts to jet planes.

            Major lands we owned included the mine property in South Africa (a million acres), a thousand acres of oil lands in Cameroon, the fifteen thousand acre Fort Dean in Louisiana, and the one million acres in Montana that was once part of Black and Bear. It was now our cattle ranch. We owned property in sixty countries, mostly hangars for helicopters and a twenty acre training and command site in Loures Portugal.

            We got into farming by accident. When we bought Morton Airfield it was in the middle of a thousand acres. Pop-Pop Jones was a farmer, Dad grew up on the farm and Jake and I spent a lot of time at the farm. Instead of renting out the farmland, Dad and Jason wanted to farm it. Hobby farming was another name for it.

            Not long after that we bought the three thousand acre Ratz farm behind it because they were complaining of noise and old man Ratz decided he wanted to move to Florida.

            Jason and Dad had leased the Bay Farm hunting rights for a couple years for goose and duck hunting. A couple years later we bought the two thousand acre farm on the bay. On the tax department’s advice we bought eighteen hundred acres near Ruthsburg and another two thousand on Damonson Town Road.

            Dad’s and Jason’s hobby farm operation now had twelve thousand acres in the county and ten employees. The nine thousand acres in Nebraska was rented out to a farming interest there.

            Then there was Jeanna’s oil field gimmick – we bought the four thousand acres next to it so angle drilling could be done, putting wells on our property. On top of that on the advice of the tax department, we bought two more adjoining farms and another five thousand acres from the bank as oil investment properties for a fast write-off. It seemed we were always doing something that would change taxes in our favor.

            With ten producing oil wells and more to come, the gold and diamond mines plus owning forty percent of Thimble Shoals Bank – the tax department was continually telling the girls to build and buy to offset taxes.

            We owned other smaller properties that weren’t connected to Lorrie’s rentals. We bought the old mall at the Narrows for the task force connected drug lab. The rest of it was now JBG office space. The Morton Hotel was all office space, the Horsey House was also all office space and we still did not have enough. We had converted as much of the gym to office space as possible.

            We owned two parcels on Kent Island next to the bay. One was two hundred acres and we had talked about putting an RV resort and a water park on it. There was no water park in the area for the kids. The second was fifty acres and today we talked about one multistory office building now that the county had finally changed the height rules to save open areas.

            JBG now employed eighty thousand men and women assigned in one hundred and eighty two countries.

            Vice President Andy Reddick – head of security – and Vice President Robert Dunn – head of our intelligence and IT group – were our two highest paid employees they each made $50,000 a week plus perks -a lot of perks. Without them JBG could be in bad place. The CIA and FBI had tried to hire Robert but couldn’t match the pay or the benefits.

            I had new respect for my mates and the leaders for what they had done at JBG while I was away playing politics.

            Politics was next on my list for today. We went to the campaign headquarters so I could do an interview for tonight’s news. Three news networks each had twenty minutes of which they would use probably use five minutes or less for their newscast. Tomorrow it was one week to the election.

            We went to supper and then watched all three networks to see the high priced ads we had paid for. At 2000 all three networks ran the ads. The specialist had volunteer viewers so they could evaluate the ads effectiveness. It placed high but not perfect. It was the best we could expect. The networks would have an opinion tomorrow.

            This week was all campaigning; Troy and some of my White House staff were going along with my mates. There were twenty eight stops this week and twenty interviews for the news media.

            Tuesday I did an MTAC with the Generals while in Air Force One. They wanted to bring home another twenty thousand troops home from Iran.

            ”If you feel comfortable and have confidence in the reports then do it. I will not be happy if we have to send them back,” I said.

            I worked the information into the next campaign stop. It was another crowd pleasing announcement.

            Finney was AWOL for most of the week – he came out Friday for a big campaign push but did not take questions and admitted no wrong. He was behind in the polls but not by as much as I would have expected.

            My final TV campaign push started Saturday with the college football games and Sunday during the NFL games. Monday we returned home at noon. JBG needed some guidance and more TV interviews from the campaign center.

            Monday night our last campaign ads were on media. The five minute ad ran just before kickoff for Monday night football and on the other networks my other ads ran several times during the game. The last ads were during the late shows. If voters had not made up their minds by now, either they were going to flip a coin and vote or not vote at all.

            Tuesday was a day to relax with family and vote. My family and mates voted under the watchful eyes of the TV cameras at the high school. There were other local officials there as well, it had been planned to get the best coverage. It was all over as far as I was concerned, except for the fat lady singing.

            I called the Generals, Andy and Robert for updates. I heard what I wanted to hear – all was quiet everywhere today.

            At the campaign center enthusiasm was high- all the exit polling was good so far for the Senators I tried to help. The House candidates looked to be close but in our favor by a good margin.

            Elections were fickle in this day and time as we watched the returns come in. With the absentee votes to count, the outcome would not be known for a day or two, maybe more. In some states the margin of victory was enough the absentee ballots would not change anything. In the must win states it was too close to call and the absentee ballots meant the difference.

            I sent everyone home at 0200; they were exhausted, so were we. Hopefully tomorrow we would know and agreed to meet at noon and crunch the numbers.

            The story of BJ has lasted eight years and three months. I want to thank Alfmeister for all the work he has done with the editing. I want to thank Bob W. for the proof reading and Joe for his input and suggestions.

            Without the readers there would not have been a story. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. The story has been downloaded 1.4 million times and the closing score for book 2 is above 8.6. Again I thank you the readers for support for those eight plus years and the over six thousand e-mails.

            As with some of the chapters I closed with a cliff hanger, I close the book on BJ the same way.

            This is the end.

             Jack

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Book 2 Chapter 199

The carrier fleet had made its swing to the Sea of Japan and anchored off South Korea for a couple of days. Then it carried out a week of air operations. North Korea’s President was hemorrhaging crap, calling the fleet a major provocation and an invitation to war. He was on every media he could find, even calling into ZNN making threats.

            Today the B52s flew over South Korea and buzzed the fleet on their flight to Russia. B21s returned to their base in Japan were also flying over South Korea and buzzing the fleet.

            China’s ambassador was in the lobby – without a formal request for a meeting. ”I have a verbal message from the President of North Korea. You are to remove your fleet and bombers from the Sea of Japan or war will be immediate,” he said.

            ”You can tell Crap mouth if it is such a provocation that he needs to step up to the plate and do something about it. Otherwise he needs shut his mouth, go back to his harem and hope I don’t take offence to his statements. You can also tell him none of his scientists assisting Iran’s nuclear ambitions survived. You can also tell him that there are serious consequences coming his way. The best thing for him to do is shut his mouth or to bend over and kiss his sorry ass goodbye!” I said.

            ”Do you want me to put it in writing for him?” I asked.

            ”No, that won’t be necessary. I think I can relay the meaning of the message,” the Ambassador said.

            I spent four more days and nights on the campaign trail, then home again on Sunday night. The girls had spent the four days with me. They were spending Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday at JBG. Six weeks to the election.

            The first two wells in Cameroon were productive. The next two were dry – no oil or gas. The next four were productive. The pipelines were being run down to the trunk line to the refinery. Twelve hundred JBG security were now in Cameroon and Nigeria.

            On Tuesday they had killed a ten man scouting party from one of the new groups. Elsabab had started showing up on fliers posted on poles and bulletin boards threatening local election officials.

            I read the updates from the Joint Chiefs – twenty thousand more prisoners had been released, there were seventeen hundred deemed unfit to release. The maximum prison outside of Tehran was their destiny, then advanced interrogation and execution. Two thirds of the National Guard were now on their way home.

            Last week’s campaign swing had been through the north central region. This week’s was mid central with Iowa, Missouri, Kansas, Oklahoma, Arkansas, Tennessee and Kentucky. I was home again on Sunday night with the girls. It was five weeks to the election.

            The weekend’s news was on the liberals again. Tom Bennett did a naked swan dive from his twentieth floor penthouse Friday afternoon in broad daylight. Two high end call girls were found bound, gagged and dead in the living room and bedroom. The door had to be broken down to gain entrance by the police. It was double chained from the inside.

            On the coffee table were ten lines of cocaine mixed with fentanyl and evidence that at least that many had been inhaled. The call girls were killed as some part of a sexual ritual. The coroner’s report said they were so high on drugs they were unlikely to have felt a thing or understood what was taking place. The knives used to kill them were still in the bodies and Bennett’s fingerprints were on them, along with his DNA in the women.

            It was beginning to look like God had a sudden dislike for liberals the way they were suddenly dying – or was Andy involved?

            On Monday more ads were made to counterpoint what Albert Finney’s campaign was trying to exploit. The polls said I had a twenty point advantage on him. I expected the campaign to start getting very dirty. Desperate men do desperate things, including throwing caution to the wind.

            I did four more news programs that were to air during the week. The hot topic for the today’s news was that there was a large fleet presence in the South China Sea. The Philippines were building their island base that China had tried to prevent. They had dozens of ships driving pilings and pumping sand.

            China had its hands full following the American fleet as it sailed around the island of Taiwan and did aviation exercises in the South China Sea. They were not happy that the Navy was in force there.

            The East Coast heavy carriers left the fleet and headed back home through Panama Canal or to their duty stations off the east coast of Africa through the Suez Canal. One heavy carrier group was left in the Indian Ocean. One West Coast task force was to ply the South China Sea near the Philippine’s new island.

            The light carriers were to start picking up their troops and equipment and return to their home ports or assignments.

            This week’s campaign tour carried me back to states that I would have to win to carry the electoral vote; Florida, Pennsylvania, Texas, Ohio, California and the Carolinas. It was four weeks to the election.

            This week was the first election in the new Iran. It was for delegates to develop and ratify a new constitution. Ninety five percent of Iranians over the age of fourteen had identity cards. The voting age was eighteen.

            The girls and I were home again on Sunday evening. There was plenty of JBG business for them to catch up on. Gold shipments from Polokwane were being stacked in the secure hangar. There was simply no time to stack the bars in the basement vault rooms.

            Vicky, Ching Lee and Andy were flying to the Pack countries for more meetings on terrorism. It had been quiet for a while but a new group of terrorists were starting to show up on intelligence reports. They were former ISIS and rogue terrorist from Africa. JBG intelligence gathering stations were following a dozen other small groups.

            When they returned from Europe they had meetings with Mexico and our other Central American security customers.

            Wednesday afternoon I was on the campaign trail again, first stop Texas with four big rallies. I beat Albert Finney like he was a wet dog. From there I went back to Florida and then to Pennsylvania and Ohio. Sunday I was back at home meeting with the girls. The polls had started to do crazy things for some reason; I dropped ten points in five days without explanation. At this point I was too busy to worry about it. My campaign researchers were trying to find out why.

            Monday morning I met with the Joint Chiefs and Vice President Harrison. We made the decision to reduce the troops in Iran by fifty percent starting tomorrow. 747s would begin returning the soldiers to their home bases. China was pissed but still buying the Iranian oil.

            Congress flooded my desk with bills and then went into recess so the members could run their elections. That was one of the problems; too many of the bills were feel good special interest so the politician could go to their home and brag about all the bills passed to benefit his district.

            I vetoed more than I signed.

            On Monday afternoon Finney and his associates began personal attacks against me and my family. First he started with that I wasn’t that poor woman that I wanted everyone to believe I was. Next he challenged the medals I had earned in the war – there was no way a woman could earn those kind of medals. The Marines was just passing out feel good medals.

            Then he challenged the number of contracts JBG had with the government and foreign governments, why they were allowed and why some were listed as classified.

            Then he started trashing my mates, my lifestyle and the boys as illegitimate bastards.

            Everybody in both offices were pissed. Andy was ready to send a cleanup team after him. I shut that down immediately. Andy had two new cleanup teams at his disposal and was itching to try them out.

            They had the new Russian long range sniper rifle. It was a copy of the Barrett but had an eight inch longer barrel and was fifty five caliber instead of fifty along with a huge noise suppressor and a much more powerful scope. The bullet was the same weight as the fifty, had a slightly faster velocity, a flatter trajectory and two thousand yard plus kill range in the right hands.

            ”OK, so you want to play that game. You just went too far,” I thought.

            I had the file Robert generated on him and his VP candidate. I hadn’t read it or even looked at it for that matter. It was time to do that.

            I looked at his college grades and papers, he had been a member in good standing with the American Communist Party until his run for public office. That would have little impact the way the younger voters seemed to think. But it might make some difference.

            There was more damaging information – he had a police record that might raise eyebrows. Two drunk driving arrests in his home state that he cleared by pleading guilty before judgment – a process unheard of in this day and age for drunk driving.

            In another one of them was an investigation into a hit and run and driving under the influence. The charges were dropped by the prosecutor after he held the case past the must file date. It seemed like a normal policy for certain people in liberal circles.

            In another case the charges were dropped after the arresting officer failed to show up for the court date. The arresting officer quit the force and moved to the Bahamas a few days later. Just before his last senatorial run he had the records expunged.

            Once in the files, on computer, no matter what one does there someone can find it and Robert did. There were other incidents involving alcohol. The police were called to his home for disturbances. He obviously had an alcohol problem.

            Then there were marriage problems. His wife had a private detective investigate him for infidelity on two different times. The private detective believed in all things modern but lacking on security for his computer systems.

            There were surveillance photos of him taking his mistress out to private restaurants. There were even pictures of them kissing and then in the bedroom undressing in her apartment. The wife filed for divorce but withdrew the papers later.

            The second investigation involved call girls and prostitutes; plenty of pictures of dozens of girls – all more than once by the dates of entry. Then the investigation was abruptly stopped. The private investigators license was suspended.

            The next investigation was at the Congressional level. He had been accused of sexual harassment by multiple staff members over his years in congress. Congress had created a secret slush fund decades ago for just such instances.

            Over the years six of his female staff members had been paid off from this slush fund, signing vows of secrecy to get millions of dollars. Robert had apparently hacked the Congressional files to get that information. He found all six of them with payoffs and copies of the investigations. I had Connie black out the ladies’ names and signatures.

            Then there were pages of campaign funding violations and emails with incriminating evidence by his staff telling donors how send the funds to circumvent election laws.

            I looked at all the sheets to make sure there was nothing to implicate JBG, Robert or any sources, then using latex gloves I ran them through the fancy copier. I made twenty complete sets.

            A top sheet said, ”This pack has been mailed to twenty news outlets,” – that was so they wouldn’t try to bury it. It was signed, ”Carl Snowden the 2nd”. Snowden was the noted leaker of classified information from the past.

            Connie typed up twenty address labels for the twenty news outlets I was sending them to. It was weighed on the postal scale and five one dollar stamps were put on them so there would be no postage meter numbers to trace. The return address was the address for the British embassy.

            I sent Ziva and Abra to deliver them to two different post office drop off boxes and told them to wear a full face mask. I would know in a day or two which outlets was going to try to cover it up for Finney. But I was sure there would be several that would run with it.

            It was politics and I could have dealt with it if it was just me. When Jenny called on a video call I had never heard or seen her so mad. My other mates were not happy either.

            ”I’ll take care of it, calm down,” I said.

            I asked Troy to find out where Finney was speaking at today, I knew he was campaigning seven days a week.

            A few minutes later I learned he had a rally at Virginia Beach tonight at 1900.

            I called Donald Gardner, the senior Secret Service agent, ”I want several Suburbans sent to NAS Virginia Beach and stand by. Find out who the agents are that are providing security for Finney so you can contact them directly when we get there. I want five minutes alone with him before he goes on stage tonight and I don’t want him to know I am coming. Make it happen,” I said.

            He started to object but decided against it. Virginia Beach NAS was a little over a hundred miles – an hour’s ride in Marine One. We would leave here at 1830.

            I went upstairs and changed clothes to the camo pants and shirt and camo jacket the Secret Service had given me, then to the kitchen to eat a quick supper. Marine One was landing as I was finishing eating.

            I chose Ziva, Abra, Donald Gardner, Greg Archer and Charles Brewer for my close in bodyguards. They were the ones that I walked in center of when out and around. With the rest of the required transport group it took two helicopters. We landed with plenty of time to spare.

            Donald had sent six Suburbans so there were plenty of room from all of us. Since there was no announcement I was coming, there was no formal arrival greeting party and that suited me just fine. The pilots had flown in using the N numbers.

            They stopped at the rear door of the arena. Donald went inside to pull rank on the Secret Service agents that were guarding Finney and to run everyone out. A few moments later we went in, Finney was in a meeting room with several aides and several Secret Service agents.

            ”What are you doing here?” Finny asked.

            ”Everybody out except Mr. Finny,” I ordered.

            ”’At least one of his team and one of us has to stay,” Donald said.

            ”Okay everyone else out – Ziva can stay for me, James Street for Finney,” I said.

            James Street had worked in the White House for as long as I was at the White House and had been involved. He and I got along great; he was as hard as I was. When it came time for the Secret Service to provide Finney with Secret Service it was by draft; James didn’t want to go but was given no choice.

            After the door closed, ”It has been policy and an understood tradition almost forever that children and spouses of the candidates were off limits,” I said.

            ”Well traditions and policy have changed this election cycle, at least for you and your family,” he said as he tried to push by me to get to the door.     

            That move was the wrong one for this conversation. I grabbed his arm and turned him, then with my right hand around his throat I slammed his head into the door hard. It was a solid all wooden door. Hard enough he should be seeing stars and I squeezed. Ziva stopped James for interfering.

            ”My spouses and children are off limits and you need to remember that. When you go out there tonight you need to make a long and soulful apology that they will accept. If you have any print ads, TV spots or radio with mention of my family you need to stop them tonight. I can promise you that if you don’t you will regret it – the last thing you want is for me to come see you again. It won’t be pretty,” I said. He was turning blue – I eased off on the squeezing. I shoved him away from the door so I could walk out.

”You saw that she assaulted me. I’m going to press charges,” he said.

            ”I didn’t see anything out of the way – just a friendly conversation – and I have forgotten what she actually said,” James said as he turned to follow me out the door.

            ”Let’s go Ziva,” I said.

            Back at NAS there was a group waiting. Someone noticed the paint job on the two helicopters and knew they were assigned to the Presidential fleet – the Marine guards in dress blues was a sure giveaway.

            Flight line officers, control tower people and guards at the gate got the riot act read to them for not asking enough questions.

            Several rear admirals were in the process of trying to find out who was here and for what. The chain of command should have been notified any time anyone came in with that level of authority.

            There was a delay at the gate – this time by the guards – they asked more questions and looked into the vehicles with lights before letting us through. As we got to the helicopters a group in dress whites were headed to meet us.

            The suitcase and my personal body guards were in and seated before they arrived. I stepped back out and went through the process of introductions and salutes.

            I finally shut it down, ”I hate to run but we need to go. Get those vehicles back to Washington and let’s get in the air. I will be back for a formal visit soon,” I said and turned and climbed up the steps into Marine One.

            It had been a long day and it was not over yet. People were monitoring Finney’s campaign speech. Did he learn anything or would another visit be needed? Tomorrow it was three weeks to the election.

            Edit by Alfmeister

            Proof read by Bob W.

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Book 2 Chapter 198

TV interviews and rallies, more than I could count. Another week was gone in the blink of an eye – nine weeks to the election.

            Iran was progressing, tens of thousands of identity cards were being issued a day. Electrical power had been restored to most of the country. Big generators were brought in to get the supply where it should have been decades ago. They were run off natural gas of which there was an endless supply. There were still more coming to get at least some reserve in the power grid.

            There was an endless supply of general labor – without daily military drills and with a promise of a paycheck for working – they were ready. Many were skilled labor; they were put to work getting the country back together.

            Four super tankers of oil had been sold: China bought one, France another, the United Kingdom got the 3rd and the 4th was sold to Brazil. Contracts were signed for monthly deliveries to those countries. There was money to pay for the things needed to gradually bring Iran back to the twenty first century.

            I had a meeting on Thursday with OPEC group about oil sales, none of us wanted to see the price levels and sales targets destroyed. The last thing needed was an oil war. The Secretary of State and the director of the energy department with the joint chiefs were along for meetings with field commanders. We also brought the usual media detail.

            Air Force One landed at King Salam International for the OPEC meeting. After a private meeting with the King I met with the Air Force commanders for a couple hours. Then I took a Greyhound flight to the USS Thomas to meet with Fleet Admiral Montgomery for an assessment of fleet performance.

            Hanna was talking with a sailor and Jed was filming on the flight deck as I stepped off the Greyhound flight. They had become so accustomed to the air operations they didn’t notice me until the PA announced ”All hands Commander in Chief is now aboard.” Then they started filming me going through the VIP greetings.

            ”If you are ready to go home, get your go bags packed,” I said.

            Then there was a meeting with all the Navy commanders of the war for a first hand update. I addressed the crew while I was there for a job well done.

            Then a helicopter ride to the USS Fordson where I had a discussion with Admiral Bramble and Captain McCoy about any ship issues that required an immediate return to base, ”Well, you should be glad to hear that your shakedown cruise will last at least another two months. There are other objectives in the cards,” I said.

            While I was on the USS Fordson I asked to be guided to Chief Petty Officer Hastings’ work area to see him.

            Melinda Schaffer had been on a video call to ZNN below deck. I recognized her voice as we were passing the cabin she was using. I stuck my head in.

            ”Hey girlfriend, if you are ready to leave here pack your bags – the train is pulling out of the station in thirty minutes,” I said and then walked on.

            I heard her tell the other end of her conversation, ”The President is on board with our tickets home, got to go. ”

            CPO Hastings was at his workstation staring at a flat screen. ”Staring at it won’t make it work any faster,” I said startling him and causing him to jump. Melinda was behind me and filming.

            ”I think the ship has lived up to your letter; you were pouring it on pretty heavy and I am told the Fordson has performed exceptionally well for the first extended shakedown cruise,” I said.

            We talked a few minutes and I posed for a few pictures with him and some shipmates.

            Then I made another helicopter flight to the USS Boxer and met with the command structure for the ground troops, both Army General Irons and Marine General Downs.

            With the Joint Chiefs we discussed future plans for Iran and benchmarks that had to be achieved to move to the next troop draw down. It was a ten point plan.

            One of the early points was releasing as many of the prisoners as possible and getting some or most of the National Guard troops back home as soon as possible.

            Helicopters carried my expanded groups back to the King Salam International Airport. The first thing was to catch up on the important emails and updates, then I was going to bed. I had four hours sleep in the last three days and I immediately had to hit the road campaigning again. A hot shower and the king size bed was going to feel good on the flight back.

            I rested a day at home with my mates; we needed time together and I needed them. I needed time with the boys. I rested but not as much as I would have liked to.

            The media had finally accepted that the explosion in New York was caused by human or computer error. Twelve hundred people had died in the building collapse and the surrounding buildings, including the twelve members of Soweto’s family and all management of Soweto Investments.

             Worse yet was all corporate records were destroyed including electronic servers and backups that were in the basement, also the upstairs safes had been destroyed and contents burned. Someone was going to have one hell of a time trying to reconstruct the accounts to figure out the amounts the millions of investors were due.

            Things were no different for Bloomfield Investments. It had taken four days to put the fires out. The building was on the verge of collapse; it was so unsafe the NYFD had refused all attempts to locate the victims’ bodies.

            All the streets around the buildings were closed creating a traffic nightmare. Huge cranes were brought in to clear the debris from the Soweto building as fast as possible to look for victims.

            Tomorrow was Friday again – eight weeks to the election – and the south-west swing was to start this afternoon. I spent all morning in the Oval Office catching up on reports and the things to keep the country going that a President needed to do.

            Face Time and Twit were not pleased with my run for the presidency. I did not have – nor did the girls – a personal account in either and strictly forbid our security employees from having an account.

            Both used tracking features that could not be turned off and used algorithms that could be used to out our security teams and protocols. Having an account with them or accessing them on company electronics was cause for immediate termination.

            They allowed my presidential campaign account to be hacked several times in a week while locking it down twice and were in no hurry to reinstate it. It was flagged for content that we did not put on while hacked.

            My campaign ads on the system were often delayed and the content changed there by changing the intent and target groups for the ads. Their managers were saying the ads didn’t meet their standards in the form submitted.

            The NSA experts did some hacking on their own and tracked the hacks to be from Face Time’s own computer systems it; was their employees changing the site. My campaign was going to pay millions for ten weeks of ads on the site.

            We had the same problem with Twit.  I finally told the campaign to stop all ads and get our money back, that we would spend it on other media where we had more control on the final product.

            Face Time was working with the Chinese to develop a Chinese approved Face Time system to better track Chinese citizens and interface with the American system. The experts strongly rejected allowing this cooperation because of the national security implications.

            Marcus Sucker – founder of Face Time – strongly rejected NSA and FBI objections to the cooperation and joint venture on the grounds that they had systems to thwart any Chinese attempt to spy and track Americans.

            Marcus Sucker was worth four hundred billion dollars. Zane Terpshaw – owner and developer of Twit – who also was working on a similar joint venture with the Chinese was worth a measly two hundred and eighty billion dollars. Both were at the extreme left of the worst liberals. Combined, they had donated nine hundred million dollars to liberal candidates in the primary election cycle.

            Wednesday morning a chartered Lufthansa Airbus 380 carrying six hundred and fifty Face Time and Twit executives, engineers and designers as well as Sucker and Terpshaw and their corporate staff did a layover in Japan.

            After the layover it continued to Shanghai. The Lufthansa chartered flight blew up at forty five thousand feet over the six thousand foot deep East China Sea. There were no survivors. I advised the treasurer to seize the assets of both individuals.

            I left for the northwest swing of the campaign; Washington, Oregon, Northern California, Wyoming, Nevada, Colorado, and Utah. Three of those I had sent troops into to restore law and order.

            I was expecting the trip to be a protester’s free for all, although polling showed I was points above the liberal candidate and that was a surprise. It was a four day trip.

            On Air Force One I worked on the latest information from Iranian identifications; they were sixty percent done. Iranian TV was back on the air. The daily paper was back to publishing both editions.

            There were daily instructions about coming events. Today they published the date for ratification of a new constitution and election of delegates. In order to vote each person must possess and display the new identification card. Penalty for possession of a counterfeit card or altering a card was the death penalty.

            The push was on to convince everyone to get the mandatory new ID card.

            Thirty thousand of the prisoners had been investigated and deemed as low risk. They had been issued ID cards and transported to their home town. That left sixty thousand to go so far; only fifteen hundred were deemed high risk.

            Congress was trying to pass bills by the dozen. All of them wanted to get back home to campaign. They were being faxed to me as soon as they came to the White House.

            There were big crowds at the campaign stops, even in Washington, Oregon and northern California. It was something that could lead to false hope as past elections had proved. It was easy to get them pumped up for a rally – it was another thing to get votes you could count on Election Day.

            The Federal Election Commission had ended mail in voting for elections. It had proven to be disruptive to the process and open to fraud. The country and the world should know the winner by the next morning, not ten days later. Early voting was still allowed for five days prior to Election Day.

            Absentee ballots were still available for those unable to vote normally. An official request to get one was required. The ballot must have a copy of the voter ID and a driver’s license – all items must match for it to be valid. All absentee ballots must be postmarked three days prior to Election Day or they would not be counted.

            The military qualified and so did foreign workers for absentee ballots – this included JBG employees assigned abroad.

            I was back home with my mates Sunday night. Monday morning there was another round of ads produced for my campaign and endorsements for the fifteen senate seats I wanted to win. The Super Pac was providing funding along with the party for them.

            It was to counter the money from the liberal billionaires that was now greatly reduced. There were just three liberal billionaires pushing money to liberally progressive communists.

            One of those billionaires was Tom Bennett; he was my worst opposition to correcting the problems in California. Stopping the riots and the construction of low income housing was affecting his billion dollar real-estate empire. The riots, looting and burning were being used to upgrade his downtown properties with the insurance money.

            Clearing the homeless was interfering with plans to devalue entire neighborhoods and sub divisions and buy the properties at fire sale prices. The neighborhoods would be cleared and replaced with upscale homes, condos or commercial buildings.

            He was funneling millions into a liberal Super Pac to be used directly against me. Jeanna’s Pac was countering the liberal Pac two dollars to one making it expensive. It was just seven weeks to the election.

            Edit by Alfmeister

            Proof read by Bob W.

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Book 2 Chapter 197

Monday I felt like I was a rubber ball, bouncing from place to place.

            At 0700 the Generals were in with the first reports from Iran and elsewhere. It was going to be harder than we thought to get the political ball rolling for elections.

            The intent was to identify every young adult fourteen years and older and adults by facial scan, DNA and fingerprints to create ID cards that could be used for elections and other purposes now and later. It was an enormous task.

            The process and equipment had been developed by a previous liberal administration to do the same with all US citizens. The excuse was to be able to track all citizens in case of another pandemic. In reality it was to track every citizen all the time.

            The real problem was it tracked every citizen, their financials, their jobs, medical, their voting, every phone call – not just the numbers but the actual call itself – every movement and everyone they met or who were near them.

            It was the brainchild of the Silicon Valley computer multibillionaires, internet search engine multibillionaires and several financial multibillionaires – all diehard liberals. The Silicon Valley group already had enormous data server farms and had built dozens more to get it ready for the vertical chip.

            They were one election from getting this forced onto the American people until it and its purpose was leaked.

            That leak resulted in the change of American politics with the election of Alexander Thomas.

            I wanted to use only the facial scan, fingerprint and DNA. The DNA to primarily connect to open terrorist investigations. It would take every Persian speaking employee JBG had, all the US government had and computer operators labs to do the DNA. I ordered the process to begin immediately.

            It was at 1000 when there was a report of a massive explosion in the financial section of New York with massive damage and loss of life including a building collapse. Wealthy people and shakers and movers in the world’s financial circles were unaccounted for. The FBI, ATF and terrorist task forces were dispatched to investigate.

            ”What an inappropriate timing for this to happen!” I thought. But I had no time to dwell on it.

            In fifteen minutes I needed to be in one of the back private offices with the media people so they could record, ”Hello this is Roberta Jones and I approve this message.” I was to do it in several languages; English, Spanish, French, Japanese, Persian, Russian and Arabic.

            In a few days complete ads in my voice would fill the airways. The media team wanted to direct campaign ads to select groups. Since I could speak the languages it would be a big boost over the liberal – or so they thought.

            I finished in time for a late lunch. I was still waiting on official news from New York and all that was coming was bad. The building that had collapsed was the corporate offices of the Soweto investment and brokerage.

            Soweto investments controlled investments worth over one hundred billion. It was founded by George Soweto who was accused of pioneering the collapse of the British pound in the seventies and the Russian ruble in the early nineties.

            Later accusations of trying to manipulate political elections in the old Eastern bloc nations in the late 2010s led to calls for his extradition that were squashed by the Obama administration. His money funded extreme liberal politics and bought the seats of some of the most liberal-socialist politicians elected to office in America and Europe.

            His death only made liberal dreams grow; billions of his wealth was left to liberal and progressive groups. His sons were far more liberal than he was and even went further in their socialist leanings than he did. The media was reporting that the entire Soweto management of operations and all his offspring were in the building at the time for a meeting.

            A reporter speculated the meeting was in response to the new candidate as a result of the convention. The new candidate was the new nightmare in the liberal dreams. It was unusual for all the leadership to be in the building at one time, especially all the senior family.

            I called the Treasurer of the US and had some orders for him, ”Lock down all accounts, personnel, public and commercial of the Soweto family and all accounts of Soweto investments and brokerage including clients. All aspects of their business were located in that building, including the computer systems and all records. The chance for massive theft and fraud now exist,” I said.

            The Secretary of the Navy knocked and came in.

            ”I have the plans for the Navy to make the swing to the East China Sea and South Korea. They will pull out of the Indian Ocean in ten days after restocking all supplies and stores,” he said.

            ”Ok! That is good, I will make a trip there before then. I need to pay a visit to the King and visit a couple ships and Iran,” I said.

            I spent a couple hours with Vice President Harrison. He was going on the road tomorrow for the campaign. We worked on topics that we could stay on as the campaign moved forward.

            At 1500 the first official reports came in from New York. Video from every security and traffic cam was seized.

            At 0945 four Con Edison repair vans from the steam division were parked along the street. The vans were ten years old and were sold as clean fuel zero emissions by using compressed natural gas. Each van had twin thirty gallon aluminum tanks wrapped with fiberglass for strength and impact resistance mounted under the bodies outside the frame.

            They were repairing a buried forty eight inch high pressure steam trunk that ran parallel to Wall Street and supplied heat to the high rises.

            Running parallel to the steam pipe was a twelve inch liquefied high pressure natural gas line that was fed from a refinery. The pipeline fed substations where the pressure was reduced to low pressure vapor that was safe to use in buildings.

            Over the years there had been a number of accidents with high pressure steam in the boroughs of New York. I could remember at least two in the last few years.

            OSHA, the steam fitters unions, the NYC version of OSHA and the NY state OSHA had finalized safety procedures on eliminate accidents when steam utilities were placed back in service after repairs.          

            The real hazard was as the steam pressure was reduced, the steam cooling in the pipes changed back into water that collected in the pipe – in the low spots and there were a lot of them – a lot of water could collect there. The procedure was that the giant valves were to be opened very slowly – one percent, wait ten minutes then two percent and so on.

            The reason was the water in the pipes needed to be slowly heated until it turned back into steam. If the valves were opened too fast that water immediately super-heated to steam and raised the pressures to explosive levels.

            The system operators read the operating instructions to the valve operator and he in turn read them back for verifications. Computers monitored the switches and as he applied the instructions and when operating correctly they had the ability to stop the valves from opening.

            Part of the repair was to replace computer control cables as well as repair and reseal the valve. The entire trunk line had been isolated and the valve was manually operated to ensure the new seals were working properly and not binding. When satisfied with its operation they were to remove the lock-outs and return the automated controls.

            The switch that controlled the valve gearing motor had a 1 to 10 setting with 1 being one percent and ten as one hundred percent open. When closing the setting was 10 to instantly close the valve. The valve operator should have manually reset it to 1 with the computer confirming the setting. Something that now will never be known unless the investigators could recover the controls intact – very unlikely.

            At 0955 security cameras showed the one thousand five hundred feet of sidewalk exploding, throwing concrete hundreds of feet in the air. Five seconds later all four of the vans exploded in a massive explosion. The compressed gas in the tanks had the explosive force of thousands of pounds of TNT.

            The tanks had safety plugs that melted in the event of a fire, allowing the pressure to bleed off and letting the gas burn. With an explosion of this manner the tanks were ruptured before the plugs could melt. This was the second catastrophic event in ten seconds.

            The third was the twelve inch high-pressure liquefied natural gas pipe. Even with the twenty four inch safety barrier of dirt, the steam pipe explosion ruptured the gas line discharging the high pressure liquid gas into the massive open basement of the Soweto building. Ongoing explosions from the vans ignited the basement full of thousands of gallons of natural gas.

            Video showed the twenty five story Soweto building rising straight up and then collapsing as it settled back down, reminiscent of the Twin Towers. It destroyed the city block it was sitting on and damaged the surrounding buildings.

            To add insult to injury, Angus Bloomfield and his family along with a dozen bodyguards was making his morning stroll from his apartment to his office skyscraper that was on the adjacent city block. They were walking by the Con-Ed vans when the first explosion took place.

            Angus Bloomfield was another multi-billionaire estimated to be worth eighty billion; he was eighty one. Financing, investments and media only scratched the surface of things he was into. He had been many things in his lifetime that money, power and influence could buy.

            He had been mayor of NYC, New York Governor and had run several times for President. He plied both Republican and Democrat parties in his quest for power with whichever party looked to be the best at the time.

            As he aged he turned liberal then to an extreme liberal, giving hundreds of millions of dollars to the wackiest liberal and democratic candidates, groups and organizations.

            There was no way they could have survived. I called the Treasurer back and expanded the lockdown to his financial empire and everything it touched. Bloomfield’s office skyscraper was nearly destroyed by the explosion and was now on fire from bottom to top.

            Frank Love, Eric Roberson, Marty Coeburn and Ben Smith of the Terrorist Taskforce were reviewing the video with me.

            I had the best video clips loaded and as a group we went to the media center to explain what we knew so far and give Harry a break from the flack he was getting.

            The news conference lasted an hour with the media refusing to accept any possibility this was caused by human or computer error or aged and faulty equipment. They were determined that it was terrorist event caused by the events in Iran.

            ”There will be an intense investigation and I am sure it will prove to be accidental. Not one of our intelligence sources had any indication of any terroristic activity,” I said.

            I met with my campaign committee and began the process of running for President. For the next ten weeks my life was going to be a blur. Tomorrow the live TV interviews would begin again with me as the candidate.

Edit by Alfmeister

Proof read by Bob W.

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Book 2 Chapter 196

I listened as the girls filled me in on today’s work. Lorrie had rented an entire wing of commercial buildings in the industrial park on Kent Island for a campaign center. It was only a few miles from the home office and a few more from Morton. It was just five hundred yards from the east end of the Bay Bridge.

            Being an industrial building, it was divided into very large offices and large empty work areas. Baltimore Office Supply was delivering office equipment and setting them up now as we talked. They had three warehouses one; in Baltimore, one in Philadelphia and one in Richmond.

            Bobs Construction had pulled all his crews to the building, putting up solid walls and doors to help deaden some of the noise and to keep the sanity of those working there. With walls and such, cable troughs would run across the top. There would be a place to run cables and not have trip and fall hazards.

            Ma Bell had been there all day running phone lines and activating them, then double checking them to see that they worked. Marcy knew how and when to torque them up. JBG had thousands of Verizon cell phones and thousand of business lines and direct numbers to executives.

            A bank of 800 numbers for toll free nationwide was set up. Fiber optic cables were already in the buildings for internet. Robert was sending computers and tech people tomorrow to get those systems up and running. Two days and Jones for President would have a working headquarters.

            Vicky was already setting up the necessary twenty four hour security. Security cameras would capture outside, inside and the parking lots. Entrances were going to be changed and limited.

            It was the new norm for the paid protesters to block, disrupt, threaten and apply graffiti and break windows at campaign offices. Hopefully security could discourage that kind of activity.

            A media team was hired first thing this morning to produce the TV and audio ads. They would set up a media room in the wing to record and develop TV and radio media.

            Carl Isham and Paul Ryder were flying in to Morton tomorrow. They had been pre-purchasing TV and radio ad time spots on all networks and all major market radio stations through their connections.

            That at least gave us a breather until the campaign made our time slot purchases and some ads could start immediately.

            With a combined calendar for all the girls that displayed all the mandatory events and meetings they needed to attend, we started picking out days, nights and weekends we could do campaign stops and rallies.

            After spending the night together with my family, they went back to the shore Saturday morning. They were going to check on the campaign HQ.

            The first ads were to hit prime time viewing tonight. I needed to prepare myself for all the interviews that I was going to have to do. In deep conversation we decided Jenny – for the time being – would be the coordinator handling that.

            She volunteered because the Curtis Warrens law firm was on payroll to handle JBG’s complicated legal matters. Her HR division had multiple lawyers on staff for internal problems, contract interpretation and modification.

            Saturday morning I had a joint meeting with the State Department and the Joint Chiefs. It was a planning session on Iran. Video conferencing with the Boxer and the State Department people in Iran took place. It was a long video conference.

            When the video conference was over, we had an outline for the new government of Iran and a time outline for different events that needed to take place.

            On the political side, first there needed to be an election to write a new constitution. The Iranians would elect the delegates to do this as the first step. One of those would be constitutional limits on the military and the power and influence of Islam.

            There would be a list of disqualifiers for the delegates such as holding any position in the former government or military officers of rank.

            There would be the need to design and develop a new judicial system eliminating any influence of Islam and the Koran. Former judges would be barred from participating. In fact, many were going to be tried and executed for their crimes against humanity with some of the sentences they had handed down.

            On the military side interrogations of the prisoners would need to be finished so it could be decided what risk they posed and their prior involvement in terrorism. Those that posed little or no risk would be freed.

            Iran would need a national security force. The makeup of that force needed to be outlined including what part former officers would have in that force. Many of the low level prisoners could fill the security force.                      

            Saturday afternoon at 1800 Marine One landed me at the Island High School football field. It was directly across from the industrial park. There were too many vehicles in the parking lot at the industrial park. The Island Fire Company engine and ambulance was there to provide emergency standby.

             With all of us in attendance, planning with Carl and Paul Ryder was started. The girls had been here since 0900. I was spending the night at home. Sunday morning I was back to the White House – alone.

            Sunday morning at 0800 I made an unannounced visit to Walter Reed to see some of the injured soldiers from Iran’s combat. I spent three hours at Walter Reed by design. The White House press corps was along but I would not allow them to take any pictures of any injured or me with them – unless the injured approved.

            At 1100 I walked in the rear security door to Sunday Morning Live studios. I was making an unannounced visit to Washington Sunday Morning Live. This time it would be just me; the girls were way beyond busy. This visit was a start for the campaign.

            It only took them five minutes to do makeup and wire me up. Someone quickly found a chair for me to push out as the Secret Service took positions on the set and in the audience.

            ”Good morning Arthur, Candy, David; it good to see you again. You said I could drop in any time. Is this a good time?” I asked.

            ”Any time you drop in is a good time,” Candy said.

            ”Good morning Senator Vauxhall, how are things in North Dakota? I really didn’t mean to step in on your thunder today,” I said.

            Senator Vauxhall was a second term conservative senator from the cold state of North Dakota. Minot Air Force Base was in his state, home to the B52s and newer B21 bombers, plus it was the only Air Force base that had operational silo housed ICBMs.

            ”I think you brought the thunder with you; I can hear the jets rumbling overhead. Besides, I get some one on one time with you. I am sure – given Thursday’s announcement – your one on one time is tough to come by,” he said.

            ”The ground war is over, did you expect it to be over so quickly?” Candy asked.

            ”We had a plan and it was not to do what they thought we would do. The heavy bombing campaign was designed to break the back of the IRG from day one and it worked. After that it was just a matter to isolate and destroy their army where ever we found it,” I said.

            ”Madam President, when are the troops and bombers coming home?” Senator Vauxhall asked.

            ”The bombers will be the first group to come home or to their assigned bases in the next couple weeks,” I said.

            ”Madam President – the ICBMs at Minot – how do they stand in the Russia agreement?” Senator Vauxhall asked.

            ”They stay for the time being but the warheads will be replaced with warheads that comply with the agreement limitations. Those upgrades are to start in the next few months. Negotiations to limit the number of ICBMs are slated for next summer. The prospects to reduce that weapons group looks promising,” I said.

            ”Now on to more recent events, up until Thursday it looked like you had no interest in running for President. Thursday night you blew that theory all to hell. According to delegate interviews, no one was expecting you to drop that bombshell. What changed or what happened?” David asked.

            ”Obviously there was some planning,” David added.

            ”My family and I had talked several times and it just didn’t feel right. Then after the debate we felt a little better about making a decision to go in that direction. I still had not made up my mind on Wednesday night, but Thursday’s convention fiasco convinced me it was the thing to do,” I said.

            ”My family was so convinced after the debate that I was in and they were so sure that they had our attorneys draw up all the paperwork and have it ready to file on Friday. They even went as far as to lockdown a dozen web addresses we could use, even the key one ‘Jones for President’,” I said.

            ”I don’t think you will have to worry about any more debates with Candidate Finney. Rumor is he needed medication after the nomination. His campaign has already said there will be no more debates with you come hell or high water,” David said.

            ”You chose Vice President Harrison to stay for the ticket and he accepted. Why not go with someone younger?” Candy asked.

            ”You cannot buy the experience and connections he has at any price. You can buy knowledge but the experience wins every time. Time and time again I have had to reach out for that experience in some of the decisions I have made. We know how each other thinks and what to expect and above all we respect each other,” I said.

            ”Have you found and when do you expect to get into a campaign headquarters?” Candy asked.

            ”Campaign headquarters will be on Kent Island, staff will start arriving tomorrow. The phone banks are operational today and being answered. Contractors are working around the clock to finish it up,” I replied.

            ”When do you go on the campaign trail officially – although it looks like you have been on the trail for months?” Arthur asked.

            ”Mid-week – Wednesday will be the first – with several stops in Florida,” I said.

            ‘‘Florida, Georgia, Arkansas, Mississippi and Louisiana are on the first southerly swing. Stadiums are being contracted.”

            ”The next swing is a north-east swing through New York, New Jersey, Massachusetts, Rode Island, Connecticut, New Hampshire and Maine,” I said.

            ”The media ads started running last night in major markets,” I added.

            The party flooded the TV with ads Sunday during the sports games and races. Then during prime time and on the cable shows both kinds of ads were run; those for donations and those of a candidate.

            After the show I went back to the island to meet with the girls. They were wanting my input. They really didn’t need it – they were going to spend a lot more time at the headquarters than I was.

            I was impressed with the progress. They sent me pictures of the empty buildings; just big open squares. The people that had leased them before apparently went belly up or moved into buildings that they owned. The building owner paid to have them demoed and cleaned when they were vacated and that helped us a lot.

            Edit by Alfmeister

            Proof read by Bob W.

Merry Christmas to everyone.

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