Bjjonesmylife. Book 2

At four Ty, Kathryn and Herman had joined the training. Ching Lee, Vicky and I needed to go sit in on our executive meeting. As always, there were things to discuss.

Marcy and Jenny took the floor first; they had finally gotten everything together on the death benefits for the Koons and Phil Adams. After intense search there was still no family to connect to Phil.

I listened intently as Marcy, Jenny and Jason explained what they had been able to put together.

I signed off on it, relatively pleased. As a group, we made a conference call to Mrs. Koons. We made an appointment to meet her at her home on Friday afternoon at five. She asked if she needed an attorney.

“Other than a few things to sign that you received certain items there are no binding conditions,” I replied. “Whatever you feel comfortable with.”

After our call more important business was at hand.

“My next order of business is that the first group of 8 Suburbans is ready to be shipped from the armor installer and will be shipped out to us Friday, and then 8 more every two weeks until our orders are complete,” Marcy announced.

I read the list where I wanted the first ones to go. I made the decision based on location to cut down on flight time and cost. I also made a note to call the general tomorrow to get the preliminaries started for a C17 to carry them to the Middle East.

“The contract with the NASCAR team was renewed and all the 2016 Chevrolet cars and trucks have been delivered to them,” Marcy said then added.

“The trucking company is going to deliver the 2015 vehicles to the airport for now before the end of the week. I am planning to put all the cars into the MAAR rental fleet. I think we should look at the trucks before deciding, we may want to keep them at the airport,” Marcy replied.

“One more thing, the replacement Suburban for KCC is coming with them, Earnhardt Chevrolet had one in stock,” Marcy added.

“BJ, do you remember Robert Styles and Bert Ford, they are the computer hackers who work for the criminal computer investigative division for the task force?” Jenny asked.

“Yes, I think we both do,” I replied with a laugh.

“The state has combined that department with several others. In the process, they have a new supervisor that everyone hates and have also lost all their overtime. The supervisor is a control freak to the point they are unable to do their jobs. They are looking for a new job and want to work for us,” Jenny said.

“Why would we need a computer hacker and why would loss of overtime be so upsetting to them?” I asked.

“Everyone knows we are big in security after being in the news so much. Robert and Bert both are adamant that they can help us with both the college and embassy security. They are saying that by using the same software that they use to break pedophile and kiddie porn, and major data breech cases can be modified and then used to track terrorists world-wide a lot easier.”

“Robert insists that there is no going dark like the terrorist in Morocco supposedly did. They or a connection to them was on the net or the dark net, that you just have to find it,” Jenny said.

“The overtime issue is that when they get the break that gets them in a dark site of a mail chain, you have to stay until you get to the end. The bad guys are getting high tech using randomizers so that when you close a link it is gone, sometimes forever,” Jenny added.

“I don’t know, would it be worth the investment? Speaking of investment, they will need some fancy systems we most likely don’t have,” I replied.

“Why don’t we have them come to one of our meetings and let them convince us we have a need for them and can utilize their talents,” Ching Lee added.

I almost choked on the word talents but kept it to a cough. Jenny shot me a glance and a wink with a tiny smile.

Jake stopped in to give us an update on the training site, progress was happening. More of the wooden buildings were completed today and so was the road. The first floor block work was completed on all four of the block buildings.

The pads for the second floor would be set in place first thing in the morning. The blocks for building the second floor walls would be set on top of the floor so the block masons could continue.

“How hard would it be to set up one more small building with a generator as a power station, and then trench in wire to a few of the buildings so we can have some resemblance to third world lighting?” I asked Jake.

“Just enough to run a few dim lights if we need to, while you have all the equipment there,” I added.

“The trencher Bob brought to cut the frozen ground for the footers will do that with no problem. I will have them work on it tomorrow. The fence company started putting up the chain link fence you wanted today. I had them expand the size of the site and they put razor wire on top – it looks like a prison,” Jake added with rolling laugh.

Jason was next, “We are receiving applications for the embassy jobs. I am sending them out for background checks after I review the information 20 applications at a time. 50 have come in so far.”

“We have 15 more new applications for the chopper pilot slots. I have already sent them to Eric for advanced background checks. As soon as they come back from him I will set up interviews and forward the finalists to Amy for review,” Jason replied.

“I have the first group of twenty temporary embassy security employees who transferred from the college security division coming next Monday. All of them are former military and most are single. The State department is sending someone for a three day course on Diplomatic Protocol,” Cindy said.

“Then a day to sharpen their firearm skills, a quick refresher on the mats and they should be ready to go,” Cindy added.

“I will notify Victor at the State Department that I am swapping out the crew at Rabat in two weeks,” I announced. “Lorrie, you need to schedule a flight for that exchange.”

Melanie called the meeting room phone; she was working the customer window today. “I have Connie Hovater and four other individuals here to see you.”

“OK, please have someone bring them up,” I replied into the phone.

Connie was the spokesperson and there were no administrative aides with them today.

“You know what happened to me. At some events we have been able to leverage more security from the host. The independent debate in Forestville is still on in 6 weeks. The BAM and BRMM and the Mad Matters groups have vowed to shut it down. We want your security team to provide all the security.”

“The local police will not provide anything in writing as to the number of officers they will supply or the level of security they will provide. The police union has gone on the record as supporting the groups, so we think they may not do the job as effectively as they should,” she said.

Senator Hank Whitby was next, “We want you to provide the security, do whatever you think you need to do to make us safe, and make sure the event comes off without a hitch and keep the groups at bay.”

“Don’t take any shortcuts; we know the work you do, take no prisoners, and just send us the bill. This is a slap in the face to the party who is still playing favorites. Expect a road block to come up; they can find a way to do it,” he said.

They left us with copies of the contract with the event site, the insurance policy, blue prints of the site including highway and parking access.

I left the folder on my desk, there would be time tomorrow to sort it out and send the pieces to the right people. The training was over for tonight but my evening still required work.

The Iowa National Guard C130 had arrived in Rabat Morocco with the two choppers. They were waiting at the embassy for a VCATS call. Captain Kevin McCalister was the officer in command for this mission.

As VCATS came alive with the images from Morocco I recognized Harvey Black – one of the JBG team leaders – Captain McCalister and Tommy Bell – one of our Black Hawk mechanics. Because of the number of JBG personnel, 20 before the loss of Phil and Albert, they were divided into two teams.

“Good evening Captain, how did the first part of the flying for this mission go?” I asked.

“The Arctic route was cold but everything went off without a hitch,” Capt. McCalister replied.

“I take it the accommodations have been acceptable?” I asked.

“Oh yes, about as good as we expected,” the captain replied.

“Captain, when you get back, are you the commander on the next flight?” I asked.

“Yes, where is the next flights destination?” he asked.

“Two Bell 407s to the Middle East. You will have a different helicopter specialist on that flight,” I replied.

“Tommy, what is the condition of the Black Hawk you are bringing back?” I asked.

“Boss, I think three weeks to a month for the repairs,” Tommy replied.

“Ok, that will work in the time frame we need,” I replied.

“Captain, keep me informed of your return progress,” I said then added “If you will excuse us I need a few minutes of private conversation with Harvey.”

Edit by Alfmeister
Proof read by Bob W.

Patti and I took separate vehicles to KCC again; I was going to be using Marcy’s Suburban for a while. Yesterday’s events cemented the decision that we girls were going to get armored Suburbans ASAP.

I had another new laptop; both the JBG and the state department ones were a pile of ashes in the KCC Suburban. Amy was sending over a new one today. It was a good thing that everything I did on the JBG laptop was automatically backed up to the server every 4 hours. Little data had been lost.

I turned onto Morton Road. I wanted to see the damage to the road in the daylight, plus I never made it to the construction site last night.

Bob already had a crew fixing the potholes. There were dozens of FBI and DHS people in white hazmat suits, combing every inch of the ground looking for more evidence.

I found Bob at the training site. Dozens of dump trucks were dumping the stone to finish out the road. Heaters were still blowing hot air under plastic tents to cure the concrete poured yesterday.

Some of it had already been uncovered and masons were laying block in the heat of the tents. Several of the wooden structures looked to be completed or near completed. The pow, pow of air nailers was rapid fire and dozens of carpenters were cutting, holding or passing lumber.

As I walked along looking at the progress, all of them stopped to ask how I was this morning and made comments about all the burned vehicles in the row.

I took some more pictures of the burnt out vehicles and I did another check to make sure my computers were destroyed. They were nothing but remnants of the hard drives left, all the plastic was melted into a glob.

I stopped by the airport restaurant for another mug of coffee before I headed on my way. The two captains and the Rochester group were there. They asked how I was feeling this morning.

“I am fine. Your guys are going to find out how fine real soon, this afternoon we are going to spend time on hand skills on the mats. You need to rest up this morning, I hear you are going to get another go at the shoot don’t shoot course with Jamie,” I replied.

While I was filling my mug, the TV was replaying all the video from yesterday. Hanna’s interview with me had made the national news circuit. All the opinion speakers were using my interview for material – good or bad. Because of the carnage the police had kept the other two attack sites closed. Hanna Page and JBG were blasted on every TV channel.

As I was leaving a huge all terrain crane was coming down Morton Road. It had eight of the big tires you see on monster trucks. I wondered what it was going to do here but then I remembered that Bob had settled on Jake’s idea of setting the second floor and the roof as a pre-poured slab instead of trying to pour it in place on the four block buildings.

I drove straight to the college, anxious to get a day’s work done in the four hours I was going to spend there. Because of my detour, Patti had beaten me there by a good fifteen minutes.

I opened the door to a packed house; a few students but mostly administrators. There was a big cake on the counter – across the top was “Car Killer,” in red letters. In the center were two pictures; one of last years wrecked Suburban and one of the burnt one from yesterday. I had heard the cafeteria bought one of those computer graphic cake decorating machines that could impose a picture on a cake.

All of us had cake with our morning coffee and a good laugh at my expense. They had all seen Hanna’s news footage so I connected my phone and let them see the pictures I had taken this morning.

The crowd left after the cake. Bob Jackson and Mr. Nobles were the only ones left in my office. I knew a conversation was coming about the Suburban so I tried to head it off right from the start.

“JGB will order a replacement Suburban from our supplier and have our up fitter install the security package on it. I am pretty sure the insurance company is going to balk at paying for it. Almost all of them have no fault no payment terrorism clauses in the policies,” I said. Then I added “I will need the title as soon as you can get it to me.”

“Then you are going to have to take the loss on all those vehicles?” Bob asked.

“Maybe not all of it; there are pages of rules and regulations dealing with terrorism losses after 911 with when and what the government will pay. Something else for the lawyers to handle,” I replied.

When I left at lunch I had the title in my hand and a handful of notes from phone calls that I needed to return before the end of the day. One of them was from the Secretary for the chairman of the House Intelligence Committee. Another o-joy call, I was ordered to appear and testify before the committee a week from Wednesday. It was to be a closed door hearing.

Today was not a good day for anyone to meet me on the mats. I was in one of those moods where I wanted to beat the crap out of someone to relieve stress. It had been a long time since I had been this angry.

It was one thing to be shot at, then escaping a fiery death – let alone have to pay for it. But to have to go to Washington to give a blow by blow because they were too damn lazy to read their own intelligence reports and watch the news that they all liked to be on all the time just pissed me off.

I was tempted to have Marcy bill the DHS some phenomenal consulting fee that you only read about in the papers for my time and travel cost.

I had sent Jamie a text asking how the morning’s training was doing. I also asked her to have them fed on time and at the gym at one for hand skills.

Jamie, Julia and Tammy each had 10 of the RRS team for training this afternoon. They were going to rotate through the handgun, rifle and shoot don’t shoot course.

My plan was to eventually divide them into 5-man fire teams with one of them the team leader and each team having a qualified sniper. I would have to choose the top three to be Squad leaders if I had to put several teams together for an assignment at embassies on foreign soil.

I sent Jamie a text asking, “How is the Rochester group doing?”

“Better than yesterday – they seem more determined today, but they still would not be working for you, YET,” she replied.

I grabbed a light salad from the refreshment stand and sat at one of the tables to eat. Cindy met me at the table. She had more notes for me and I was going to dictate her responses to the handful I had, she could make the return calls just as I could.

My notes were first, then I looked at the ones she had. There was only one that required a decision from me, the others were informational.

Connie Hovater, the presidential candidate who was injured in a protest at the Milwaukee campaign stop wanted an immediate meeting. She had recovered enough to go on the campaign trail again.

“Tomorrow evening if it works for her, 7 PM or whatever you can work out, you have my schedule,” I replied.

The Rochester group made their way in as I was finishing up with Cindy. I could tell by the way they we talking and struggling to walk that they had eaten at the airport restaurant and pigged out. I sure hoped that we were not going to need a mop and bucket after a couple of hits and throws on the mats.

I headed over to the lockers to change into my training gear. As I was walking Captains Peters and Hamilton joined to engage in general conversation about the shoot don’t shoot course they had spent the morning at again. I was interested in continuing the conversation; there was some interesting feedback about the changes the club had done with the course.

I opened both of my lockers; I had two side by side. One to put my street clothes in and the other held my padded training gear. Ching Lee and Vicky joined us; they were going to help me train this afternoon. Vicky had brought me several pairs of gym shorts, tees and sports bra that I needed to wear with heavy training.

Ching Lee, Vicky, and I did what we always did; we stripped off at the lockers. The shoes went into the bottom first, and then I stood, dropped my uniform pants with the equipment belt and hung it in the locker. The uniform shirt was a long cut shirt that covered everything, including the fact that I wore no panties.

The uniform shirt came off next and finally the bullet proof vest to reveal that I was totally naked. The two captains were having a hard time carrying on the conversation. I knew why when I heard Ching Lee say to Vicky, “Ooh – look at them nipples, are you that cold or are just getting warmed up for tonight?”

I turned to look at Vicky then reached out to squeeze one, “Looks like fun to me.”

Vicky responded by stepping up to me and nipple to nipple, “Promises and promises; I’ll hold you to this one.”

“You’re on girl; tonight we are going to wear your ass out,” I replied.

Then I turned and pulled on the sports bra and gym shorts. I finished by putting on the padding we used when training.

The two captains’ mouths were open and needed their brain to direct words to come out and by now all 20 were watching. I decided to prod the captains to resume the conversation. “Peters, what are the changes you think we need to the shoot don’t shoot course to make it more difficult?”

“Difficult? More difficult? You have to be kidding!” Hamilton replied.

“There is a tougher level that you haven’t seen yet. We worked on it last summer and we will finish it this spring as soon as the weather warms up.”

“Lets hit the mats, pick out the first three victims for us,” I said as I reached for the set of realistic rubber training knives we used.

Edit by Alfmeister
Proof read by Bob W.

The fiasco was continuing to unfold on Morton Lane. Hanna did not know it but the red-hot metal that had been blown in the woods started a brush fire that was behind her, working towards where she and the camera man were standing. I sent my four guys to help her and the camera man across the ditch.

By now there were dozens of trucks behind the EMT van wanting to get out. Bob’s Construction supply chain was now halted.

I called Bob’s cell, “Send the trucks across the field. They can get out onto the dirt road and back to the highway by the farmhouse there. They should have no problem with the frozen ground. I will get the trucks here turned around and headed back to you.”

“What the hell happened – the explosion was deafening!” he said.

“You will have to see it to believe it, come take a look when you get a chance,” I replied.

I called Jake, “Are you and Dad together? If not, find him or someone and bring the big front-end loader with the forks to the security gate.”

“Andy, find all the drivers to these trucks and turn them around, send them back to the job site. Bob will show them how to get out from there,” I instructed.

It was nearly dark but all the fire truck light towers were high and working; it looked almost like full daylight. The local fire chief walked up, “The brush fires are out and so are all the vehicles. We are going to release most of the equipment. The State Highway department has closed off the outside lane. What do you need us to leave?”

“A couple trucks with those light towers to help with the investigation and to look for unexploded ordnance would be nice. I am sure the agencies would appreciate it. I gave them an hour to do their thing before I open the road.” I replied.

Hanna was taking advantage of the light and confusion before officials could run her away. She and the camera man were walking around everything shooting film. “I want copies of all the film – uncut,” I said when she answered her phone.

“Will you give me a quick interview? I know you are swamped,” she asked.

“Work your way back here and make it a quick one,” I replied. By now my reinforcements had arrived without asking. I had 25 of the RRT team, the other five were still at the gym with JBG security jackets, issued hats and M16s, along with the 20 from Rochester police in full SWAT gear; training was finished for the day. They were all surveying the site.

The air was filled with news and government choppers from everywhere, with spotlights, trying to get a look at the carnage.

I called the tower’s phone line, “Make the area east of runway 4/22 for 1 mile and 1 mile north and south of the centerline of the airport to 5,000 feet a no fly zone immediately or restricted air space.”

“The FAA has to do that,” the person on the end of the phone said.

“The way they are jockeying around for best picture up there, there is going to be a midair collision to rain fire and debris down on us. Add it to the airport information broadcast and inform all aircraft in the vicinity of and approaching the airport. The feds and I can argue the technically of the order tomorrow,” I replied.

“Yes Ma-am,” the tower said.

The road from the terminal was filled with people carrying gear walking from the terminal. Others were being brought by all the gators we had there. I guessed all the agencies were coming by chopper if they could. Eric must have rattled cages when I gave him such a short time line.

Hanna had made quick work getting to me; when I looked around I knew why. There were two other news teams walking down the road from the highway towards us.

“Chris, take 6 men, walk those news teams back to the highway and anyone else that is not in turnout gear or has a state or federal badge. Then limit access to this road,” I said.

“Yes Ma-am,” Chris replied.

I turned to Hanna, “Get started,” I said.

“BJ; first, are you OK? When I got here you and your people were getting medical attention. You and your people looked pretty bad,” Hanna asked.

“The explosion blew us back and into the ditch, but by luck that saved us from the flying metal and the fireball,” I replied.

“How many of your people were injured?” Hanna asked.

“Five of us, all minor,” I replied.

“BJ, there are a lot of JBG security people here. I have never seen that many here before, did you know something was going to happen?” Hanna asked.

“We have over a thousand security employees now so there always going to be plenty here for recertification; it is part of a continuous cycle. With everything else going on in the world today we used them to beef up all sites today,” I replied.

“How long is it going to take to clean all this mess up?” Hanna asked

“With good luck, we will have the road open in a couple of hours,” I replied.

“BJ, I am not sure a lot of luck has been with you today from the looks of things here,” Hanna replied.

“Hanna, maybe not complete luck but look at all the possibilities, they could have chosen different soft targets. Can you imagine if they had driven those vans into a shopping center or three schools? The casualty list would have been tremendous. They chose the wrong soft target that turned into a brick wall.”

“We got cuts and bruises and lost half a million in equipment, but they are the only ones on the casualty list. The equipment can be replaced by writing a check. I call that luck, good luck for us – bad luck for them.”

“They expended hard-to-get explosives, and hopefully left a trail of evidence for DHS and the FBI to use. And they lost people willing to be martyrs with no gain for their cause, all bad luck for them,” I said.

“BJ, thanks for taking the time to talk to me,” Hanna replied. When the little red light went out on the camera Hanna closed the gap between us and gave me a hug, “God, I am glad you are OK, thanks for the early tip.”

I heard the big front end loader coming to a stop behind me. The two gators were back this time; one had all the girls and Jason. The other gator had Eric, Frank, Marty and a couple of people I did not know.

I met the girls at the gator in case they were going to unload on me for being in the middle of a fight again.

“We came to look at the mess before you cleaned it all up. We were lucky, if they had done this to the gym or gotten to the terminal it would have been messy,” Jenny said and then she and the girls hugged me.

I gave the agency groups, the girls, Jake and Dad a blow by blow description of the events as we walked around the mess.

“How do you want to deal with the junk?” Jake asked

“The cars, Suburban and the dump truck take back to the construction site. They will make good props back there,” I replied. “Just put them in a row until the insurance adjustors look at them. In fact, do the same with the vans; they can get them back when they pay for this mess.”

“The cars and Suburban are no problem – that dump truck is going to have to be loaded on a trailer, I think,” Jake replied.

“Get the other front end loader after everything else is out of the way and pick it up on both ends by chain,” I replied.

“How long is it going to be before you remove the bodies from the vans?” I asked Frank

“It is going to take a while,” he said.

“After we get the cars moved, if you want we can pick up what is left of the vans with the forks and put them in a hangar. Then you can take all the time you need.”

As an after-thought I took a group of pictures with my cell and sent them to Bob Jackson and Mr. Nobles, “I am going to have to buy you a new Suburban. It is the pile of junk by the dump truck.”

Captain Peters, Captain Hamilton and the twenty from Rochester had taken the tour and I was sure plenty of pictures were sent back to the home office.

“When you throw a party you, throw one hell-of-a-one. We are kind of hurt that we were not close enough to help with the fireworks but damn, I’m glad that this happened here and not in Rochester,” Peters said.

“When I get a copy of live video, you can critique it before you go back,” I said laughing.

“Follow me; let me introduce you to a couple of my friends. Captain Peters, Captain Hamilton, this is Eric Robinson Director DHS, Director Frank Love CIA, and Director Marty Coeburn FBI,” I said.

“I’m glad she introduced us as friends! I would hate like hell to be on her enemies list,” Eric replied as handshakes were taking place.

Our security cars were moved first – after the various departments looked them over for body fragments – to the construction site. Then the vans, one at a time, were put into one of the side hangars on the super hangar after wrapping them with shrink wrap to keep from losing anything along the way. Jake set them on pallets and dino pads to protect the fancy floor.

The KCC Suburban was moved next. The final piece was the dump truck. It was all that both front-end loaders could do to maneuver 30,000 pounds of burnt truck back to the site; it was a trip listening to Jake and Dad trying to get working together on the radio. An hour later it was parked with the rest.

The road was swept with hand brooms and every piece was bagged by the investigators. Tomorrow in daylight the shoulder, ditch and woods on both side of the road was going to get searched inch by inch at a time by experts looking for the tiniest piece of evidence.

Bob had stayed the whole time and after the sweeping was done, he looked at the damaged road, “150 feet of the road is going to have to be replaced. I will bring blacktop patch tomorrow morning to fill the bad holes until I can find a contractor to do it properly,” he replied to my questions.

By midnight I snuggled close to Jenny after calm conversation at the table with my mates. I was tired and my body hurt from being blown in the ditch. Sleep came easily.

Edit by Alfmeister
Proof read by Bob W.

“The Toyota has stopped at the end of the turn lane short of the entrance to the gym, Chopper 1 reporting.”

I hoped that none of the new guys at the gym had itchy trigger fingers and would wait until something started before responding.

“The Toyota is making a u-turn pulling back on to RT 301 north. The vans are less than 200 yards behind it,” Chopper 1reporting.

They were 6 miles away if they stayed on RT 301 and did not take the RT 50 at the split. A nervous waiting game was afoot. I called the guys together for last minute instructions.

“If they turn into the lane stay behind the cars, if they ram the cars get away from them – don’t get crushed between them,” I said.

Then they took their positions again. I stayed with Andy at the last car before my Suburban.

“They are a mile from Morton Airport lane. They have pulled off to the side of the road; we are well back using binoculars to look at them. We should be just a tiny speck to them,” Chopper 1 reporting.

“The vans are moving again and at high speed, two persons are staying with the car,” Chopper1reporting.

“They are turning onto Morton Lane,” Chopper 1 reporting.

“Stay with the car Chopper 1,” I said into the radio.

While I was talking on the radio a dump truck pulled up behind my Suburban and stopped inches from it waiting for directions.

The three vans made the turn so fast I thought they were going to roll over. I could hear the engines screaming as they picked up speed. The front van must have had several people in it. At least two guns came out the passenger window and started firing.

The vans moved to the centerline and slammed into the parked security cars spinning them out of the way. All of us had moved away from the cars and onto the edge of the drainage ditch that ran along the road just in time. The vans were jammed together, one pushing the other.

The shooting had stopped in the first and second van. They were riddled with bullet holes from us but they were still moving ahead at least 40 miles an hour.

The driver of the dump truck jumped out and dove into the drainage ditch beside the road just as the vans slammed into the Suburban and shoved it back into the dump truck.

Then there was a massive explosion from all three vans. The blast destroyed all the vehicles including the dump truck in a huge ball of fire. The air blast blew Andy, Melvin and me into the drainage ditch milliseconds before fire and steel blew over top of us. Red hot shards of the vehicles were falling on and around us.

We crawled down the ditch towards the terminal building. As soon as we were away from the heat we climbed out of the ditch and back on road. At nearly the same time Chris and Horace came out of the other ditch. Luckily both ditches were dry.

All of us were bruised and had small cuts that were bleeding. I was amazed that all of us still had our weapons but glad because they needed to be accounted for during the investigation.

I still had my radio mike clipped to my shoulder. I keyed the mike, “Call 911, roll the fire department, warn them of the possibility of explosives on Morton Lane,” I said into the mike.

“Chopper 1 stay with the car. Call the 911 center with location updates,” I said.

I called Eric, “You can come pick up what’s left of the vans; they are blown up on Morton Lane.”

“Carson, bring us some first aid kits; you will see us before the gate in the road,” I said into the radio again.

Since it was going to be a media fiasco I called Hanna Page, “Terrorist attack at Morton Field.”

“We heard the explosion and can see the smoke. I have left C-ville – I’m on my way,” she replied. Hanna had been flexible to my needs – why not give her a scoop.

What a mess, I thought, another KCC Suburban junked, four of Marcy’s cars junked, four new hires with workman’s comp claims the first day on the job. The road to Morton Field closed for who knows how long.

“Will someone bring a good camera and a video recorder?” I said into the phone when Marcy answered it.

Things started happening in groups. The fire truck that the agency kept in their hangar and fire control team was barreling towards us with lights flashing and sirens screaming. I sure hoped the brakes worked on that thing for no more use than it got.

One of the county EMT units that had been at their hangar with their chopper was following the fire truck with its lights and sirens on. Between the explosion and the sirens I was going to be deaf for sure.

In between the rolling smoke I saw Hanna’s tower cam above the tree line taking a live video feed for her station. I expected her and her camera man to pop up out of the ditch at any time.

I could hear the sirens of the fire trucks coming from all directions.

The agency fire truck may not have been gigantic but it was set up to fight aluminum and magnesium that aircraft are made out of. It was pumping heavy duty foam on everything that was burning, starting with the dump truck working towards what was left of the vans. They were hooking it to one of the hydrants – when they ran out of foam, they would have plenty of water.

The EMT’s were to us now. I waved off treatment until they had looked at my four employees. One of the EMT guys handed me a towel and I carefully started cleaning the debris, soot and blood from my face using one of their truck mirrors.

There was a bottle of spring water on the dash – I poured it on the towel to do a better job. I was thankful that there was only a little new blood on the towel when I looked at it.

When I looked up an EMT was standing beside me along with Carson with her kit; they began looking me over. Over his shoulder I saw Hanna and her cameraman standing on the other side of the ditch in the edge of the woods, filming. I almost laughed at the sight; she was wearing what used to be white slacks that were now muddy and torn along with purple Muck boots.

For some reason a melody from an old 60’s hit country song popped into my mind that Dad used to listen to on a cassette tape. “They ran through the briars and they ran through the brambles and they ran through the bushes where ah rabbit wouldn’t go.”

Hanna had definitely been where the rabbits wouldn’t go. I wondered how long she had been standing there and filming.

I asked about my men.

“Minor cuts and bruises – the ditch saved all of you. If you had still been standing when the metal was flying, you would have been cut in half. They refused to go to the hospital for a complete checkup,” the EMT said.

Eric called my cell, “The state police ran the Toyota off the road at the Delaware line. There were two occupants in it; they came out of the car each holding a pipe bomb. Three troopers are in serious condition. You are talking to me so you must be OK,”

“I’m OK, just cuts and bruises, the same for four of my team. All of the terrorists here are dead. They tried to crash through our security checkpoint to get to the terminal building. They detonated the explosives in the vans. We lost four cars, the KCC Suburban and a dump truck,” I replied.

“The agency guys from the hangar are going to start the investigation. The FBI and DHS are on the way,” Eric said.

“I’m sure you understand, but there is only one road into the airport and it is now blocked. In an hour I am going to open that road with a front end loader if I have to. Those guys need to get done what they are going to do and fast,” I replied.

The fire trucks from the surrounding towns had pumped enough water and foam on the inferno that it was just a smoldering mess.

Edit by Alfmeister

Within an hour the extra manpower had arrived to beef up security at KCC. As they came in they were given all the information that I knew and also what they should be especially aware of based on the alert. At 3:30 everything was quiet and there had been no additional bulletins.

With everything running smoothly I left for the day. Patti wanted to stay a couple more hours and that made it an easy decision.

The ride home was normal so I had the radio on to hear if there had been any attacks anywhere. I was also monitoring the KCC radio system.

There had been a bomb detonated in a parking garage in central New York at 2 PM with a lot of damage but no loss of life. They had picked the wrong time or else their timer had malfunctioned. Two o’clock was midpoint between lunch and time to go home. Most of the people were still in their offices.

There was bomb detonated in a tour bus in San Francisco. They were not as lucky there as the bus was filled with vacationers. 40 people lost their lives with many more injured at the bus stop while waiting to board.

On the international front another luggage bomb detonated at Heathrow International Airport. The luggage had exploded on the luggage carousel. There were only four deaths but heavy damage to the terminal. It brought the airport to a complete halt. The bags on the carousel had already been inspected for explosives and contraband.

Planes were evacuated and all luggages were removed for special screening. Reports were saying that it would be two days before the airport would reopen.

The fear was a new kind of explosive that would not set off detectors had been used. That would add a whole new level to all threats if it were so. In my thoughts it was more than likely an inside job. Someone associated with a terrorist organization working for security had disabled a scanner or simply over-rode the warnings to let the bomb or bombs pass through.

BWI, National, Kennedy, Philadelphia and any other airport that had direct flights from Heathrow were temporarily closed so all arriving passengers and luggage could be given an intense screening.

To me, the only way that made any sense was to find bombs that had failed to detonate with the plane carrying them over the Atlantic. What better way to shut down the aviation industry and spread world-wide fear than to blow up a dozen planes a thousand miles over the ocean in a day.

With all the new executive orders barring the use of criminal records and many items on background checks from being used against a potential new hire, along with the mad rush to force diversity into every aspect of government including security, bad things were going to happen sooner or later.

The last time that I checked on all the colleges that JBG covered, they reported all quiet. I felt good about that for the time being.

I turned off RT 301 onto Morton Airport Road. There at the circle in front of the security gate were four of our security cars and now four new members of the Rapid Response team.

They were easy to spot; they still had on jeans and other civilian pants but had on the bullet proof vest, a JBG security jacket and hat and were armed. There was a line of traffic they were working through. A lot of it was dump trucks and supply trucks for the construction project at hand.

To their credit, they were waving the trucks out of line and on their way to the back farm where Bob’s crews were working. I flipped on the light warning package then pulled out of the line and parked in back of one of the security cars.

I introduced myself to the men then helped them get the line through the check point. With all the vehicles past we had time for a conversation.

“First day on the job has turned out to be a busy one for you guys,” I replied.

“That’s for sure. By the way, I am Andy Riddick. Mr. Coles put me in charge of this checkpoint. Your team does not play around when it comes time to make command decisions. One minute we were completing testing and 20 minutes later being issued gear, cars and an assignment. Now that is fast.”

“Have there been many construction trucks by here?” I asked.

“A lot, we logged in all of them as they came in and left. There were close to a hundred I would say, I can count them if you like,” Andy replied.

“No, that’s ok; I’m going to ride back there in a few minutes to see the progress made today. They are building one of the training modules for you guys to use back there,” I replied.

I was just about to climb into the Suburban when my cell phone rang with Eric’s ring tone.

“The cell from the Washington Islamic learning center went active about 40 minutes ago – the one we think was used to communicate with the mall attacks. Normally it would not be noteworthy as many times as it has been on and off but with everything else going on today we gave it a second look,” Eric said then continued.

“Surveillance reports that the center has been unusually busy, both in visitors and vehicles. A convoy of three Dodge vans is heading your way; they are in traffic at the toll booth. JBG was mentioned in deciphered messages. That is all we know and all I can tell you at the moment,” Eric said.

“OK, thanks – I will take it from here,” I said as I ended the conversation.

“Andy, take the cars and make a maze using both lanes of the road. Manually open and close the security gate for anyone coming in – trouble may be coming,” I shouted to him.

I called Marcy, “Put me on a conference call with all management teams NOW!”

“Take a car and block the driveway going to the house and then have the RRT team make a maze with the security cars for anyone trying to get into the gym. Make sure they have all the flashing lights on. Move everyone away from the north end of the gym and the office unless they absolutely have to be there. At the first sign of trouble run to the south end.”

Then I called the tower, “Do you have any planes coming in the next 45 minutes? If you do use the east/west runway – do not use the north/south runway.”

As an afterthought I called Lorrie who I knew was at the terminal, “How quickly can you get a chopper in the air?” I asked.

“Let me page the pilots, then I can tell you for sure,” Lorrie replied.

I returned my thoughts to the maze that Andy had put together. The cars had been parked at a right angle to the road. Anyone coming in or leaving had to go left and then right around the 4 cars.

I answered my cell again

“Ten minutes or less, what do you want them to do?” Lorrie said.

“Fly from Morton Lane to the Bay Bridge and keep making the loop. We are looking for three Dodge vans traveling together. Communicate on the security radio channel,” I replied.

I took the Suburban past the cars and parked it in the center of Morton Lane facing RT301. I opened the lock box and removed my M16 and a couple of loaded 20 round clips for it. I walked towards the group of guys. Before I got to them one of the Bell 407s flew overhead and banked hard left over 301 and out of sight because of the trees.

When I reached the guys we had a brain-storming session and I picked at their sandbox experiences while we waited between cars coming to the terminal building.

I answered Eric’s ring on the cell, “They have cleared the bay bridge and picked up a car in the rest area. They are moving east with the car a mile ahead of the 3 Dodge vans. The car is a silver Toyota. I’ll call you back,” Eric said as the line went dead.

“JBG 407 security chopper 1, new update, the three vans now has a sliver Toyota with them – it may be a mile ahead of the vans,” I yelled into the radio.

“10-4 BJ, Security Chopper 1 responding,”

With our repeater system all JBG security sites including Patti at KCC – if she had her radio on – could hear the transmissions.

I could hear the tower giving the chopper other aircraft positions as they were responding to me. Apparently there were two people in the chopper.

The guys and I quickly checked out any car that came to the check point. I did not want a line of cars in the way if the car or vans turned into Morton Road.

“The silver Toyota has turned into Summers Lane; the vans have slowed about ¾ of a mile behind. Repeat the Toyota has turned into Summers Lane, Security Chopper 1 reporting.”

Edit by Alfmeister

It was good going back to KCC this week even if it was only half days. Patti and I drove separate vehicles to again and would all week, because I was only working mornings. I left early enough to stop at the Airport Café as I did most mornings. With so much money invested in Morton Field and how it was connecting the other business ventures of JBG together, it was hard to just drive by any more.

Besides trying to keep up with all the investments, the coffee from the café would make any Marine proud. It could walk the walk and talk the talk and keep you awake. I carried a two quart thermos to fill every day. It was worth the five bucks I left on the counter every time.

Just like at KCC when I walked into the café I was met with multiple hellos making me feel at home. As I entered the café I saw Jamie, Tammy, Dad and Captain Peters were sitting at one table having their morning breakfast. I was both happy and surprised to see Captain Peters.

“Hello Captain Peters, I am surprised to see you here,” I said.

“It’s great to see again BJ. You didn’t think for one minute I would let Jimmy, ah Captain Hamilton have all the fun and no one to document his adventures for department prosperity, did you?” he replied with a hardy laugh.

“I heard that Peters,” coming from a table behind them,” Captain Hamilton remarked.

“Jamie, while I am here do you need anything from the new armory before I leave? All our ammo, guns and supplies have been moved over to the new vault while you were on vacation. I have time now if there’s anything you need for today’s fun, I mean today’s training – I can even get you programmed into the new system if you need to get in there later,” I said.

“BJ, for the time being I think my team is set for ammo. We hopefully brought plenty of ammunition for all the weapons we brought with us,” Captain Hamilton replied.

“Now that you mention it, we do need targets for sure. Did they ever come in from the printers while I was gone?” Jamie asked.

“Yes, they are in the armory too, let’s go get them. I need to leave soon,” I replied.

Captain Peters and Hamilton joined Jamie, Tammy and my self as we walked over to the pilot’s office hangar where the access door to the vault door was. I spent a few minutes programming the armory door for Jamie’s ID and retina scan and her palm print. Then took the time to explain how it all worked, that two approved ID’s were required to open the vault and that only the six of officers of JBG, along with Jason and her were the only ones who could get access to it.

I did not tell her about the security setup for the armory: that there were two hidden cameras inside the vault along with the one in the door. The door cam recorded the access to get in and that it recorded a facial photo and scan to compare with the next time the ID that was presented for both individuals. The cams inside recorded who went in and what they did and how long they stayed.

As the thick heavy door swung open, one could still get a whiff of the dried epoxy wall and the floor paint.

After opening the door I stepped back and followed the group in. As I expected, they were all eyes.

Captain Peters and Jimmy Hamilton at first were speechless and just looked at all the toys then at themselves a few times and then at me before Captain Peters asked, “Damn, I assume you have a license for all this stuff?”

“Oh yes, it is part of our State Department and agency contracts, that is why we installed the complicated door and 2 foot thick concrete walls with armor plate sandwiched in the middle,” I answered.

“What the hell is this thing,” Jimmy asked pointing to the shelf.

“That is a GAU- 17A a motor driven mini Gatling gun with a chopper mount. It has a variable fire rate from 2000 to 6000 rounds a minute. It gives a new meaning to hell on earth if you are on the wrong end of the barrels,” I replied.

“Damn I will bet so,” jimmy replied still in shock.

After Jamie discreetly looked around, she picked up a hand full of the X and silhouette target sheets. I then closed the door and cleared out the data on the lock.

As I was turning off Morton Airport road onto RT 301 North, the Iowa National Guard C130j – 30 was crossing over head the highway with its landing gear down on final approach; those guys must have started early. I knew Lorrie and Vicky were on their way to make sure the loading went smoothly and the necessary instructions were understood.

As I was getting out of my suburban in front of the KCC security office, Patti was just pulling into her parking space – so I waited for her and we walked into the office together. I spent the first hour reviewing everything that Patti had done last week in my absence and approved her paperwork. I noted that everything was in order and properly coded for the bean counters in the front office.

As I was standing by Patti’s desk giving her the ‘great job, well done’ speech, Bob Jackson and Chancellor Nobles walked in on Q. It was getting to be a routine thing for us – somehow they just knew when we had time for a break.

“Bob has been telling me all about the thrilling week he had with you while seeing Bob Jr,” Mr. Nobles said. Then he added “I think the way Emily was going on at dinner Saturday night I think she was a bit shaken, at first but still had a great time while she was there too.”

“The flight over went normal for the most part. It wasn’t until we were getting ready to land when things got interesting. They were never in any danger on base, but off base was bad,” I replied.

“Bad is an understatement, I think. Then I saw you all over TV news Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and Sunday. You looked good in the Senate chamber, you kept your cool and all,” Mr. Nobles said then he added, “Even snarky Candy Brown didn’t rattle your chain – now that was something to watch.”

“She is a different person when the cameras are off,” I said with a laugh. Truthfully, she was even bitchier and more demanding, I felt like saying.

“I am curious, where are you going this week?” Mr. Nobles asked.

“My plans are to stay around at the gym the next couple of weeks. We have two different programs going on this time around. One of the SWAT teams from the Rochester City Police Force and our new rapid response team started this morning. I need to do my part this week,” I replied

“Lorrie’s aviation unit is making the JBG presence felt at the embassies for the next couple of weeks. We are trying to get all the helicopters exchanged and additional ones in place where they need to go.”

“Next week some of the additional staffing will be moved into place as well. Unfortunately, the temporary people are coming out of our college sites. The good thing is they are all ex-military, so that will reduce the training time hopefully this time around.”

A few minutes past eleven, I got a call on my smarter than smart phone from Cindy reading me the latest security info dump from Eric’s DHS office. After the conversation I looked at the dump myself.

The eleven AM security dump affected all US embassies and all state, local police and sheriffs departments. “Information from creditable foreign sources indicates that possible attacks in multiple locations – both domestic and foreign – against US citizens, military and civilian targets.”

“Damn, never a dull moment these days,” I thought. After I finished reading it to myself, I called Patti in and let her read the complete alert. Then I asked what response she would put into effect at KCC.

Patti responded by saying, “I would have the day people stay until 6. I would increase our security presence by calling in extra part time security. I would have check points at all entrances. Lastly I would lockdown all doors and require the ID access cards to be used,” Patti replied.

“That sounds appropriate so far. What about bringing Bob Jackson and Mr. Nobles up to speed on what is going on and ask if they have any input. I will update them while you make the calls to make it happen,” I replied.

Then I sent a group alert to all 10 colleges to take security to the next level for at least the next 48 hours, I told them to be suspicious of everything, challenge everybody and bring in as many of the part time people as needed. I then brought Bob Jackson and Mr. Nobles up to speed.

Even though I knew Cindy had spread the word I called Marcy to lock down the interior access doors to the gym, the lower level training room and the entrance door to the tanning booth. Then I wanted the double entry system we used when the North side gang made their first appearance. We had improved it to eliminate its early deficiency.

Then I called Lorrie to make sure she got the news too. I wanted her to alert all of our employees at the airport to increase their awareness level. I instructed her to have someone monitor the cameras for the main gate that we closed at night and the parking lot for the Elizabeth Morton terminal and for our hangar. Monitoring the cameras was time consuming and a real bore.

This complicated my whole day; I needed to stay at KCC for my normal 8 hour work day. It would not look good if something were to happen at KCC after I had received this alert and left anyway.

Then I had a brain flash and called Jason, “How are we doing with the new hire process for the RRT?”

“Better than we planned, both of your doc friends from Washington came instead of just one, so that part of the process is moving faster than planned. It’s cutting the vetting process in half. Roseanne, Cindy, Mark and I are doing the interviewing. We have completed six and may have 8 of the 30 done by lunch,” Jason replied.

“That’s great to hear. I have a tough question I need to ask you? Are the ones you have finished all hirable?” I asked.

“In my opinion yes, we pulled almost all of them out of the colleges and they passed everything once already except what you are adding this time around, but I know you too well. What do you want done?” Jason replied.

“Because JBG has been in the news a lot lately with the things we are doing. We have to take these alerts even more seriously, especially with the airport. Do you have a high level of confidence in the six that we could give them a rush security assignment today?” I asked.

“They do have good clean military records, are well spoken, respectful and seem to have their heads on straight,” Jason answered.

“OK, here is what I want you to do. Issue them the following: an ID a bullet proof vest, a JBG security jacket, hat, weapon, holster and an M16 with two clips of ammo, also a company handheld radio and company cell phone. Then send them to Marcy. Have her issue them their own security car and make sure they have the light package on them,” I said.

“Assign two to the night security gate at the airport, log in every vehicle and everybody as a cover story. That’s going to be a big job with all the construction, after an hour or so they should be able to know what vehicles they need to stop and check in. Assign two to the terminal and assign the other two at the gym. Those at the gym need to be discrete in where they are positioned,” I instructed.

“You are taking this threat seriously, then,” Jason replied.

“It would not go over well if we were the ones being targeted when we are supplying security for so many places and were not prepared at our own house,” I replied.

“I had not thought of it that way, as each group of two go through the process I will do the same with them, for the rest of the day,” Jason replied.

“Good idea, I will be at Morton field around 3:30,” I replied.

Edit by Alfmeister
Proof read by Joe H.

When the bright lights went dark for the last time the rest of the girls came up on the stage and joined us – for a long off air conversation with the panel. Mr. Kennedy was serious about wanting us to come back – this time they wanted all six of us.

It was nearly two when we went through Annapolis. We decided to stop at a second favorite restaurant; the Outback. With football over – with the exception of the Super Bowl – there was plenty of room. We even found a table with enough room for Jenny’s big belly.

The food was good as always and the onion and salad were my favorite appetizers. The steak, hot bread and sweet tea just finished it off to a tee. Then the ZNN news brought us all back to earth.

One of the wide screens was running the ZNN news loop. The current headline was about the Mad Matters Movement. This morning during a campaign rally at Kansas Stadium they had rushed the stage at a Connie Hovater event. She had been pushed off the stage into the front row lower seating.

The result was two broken ribs and a broken wrist. To make matters worse, the protesters poured a pitcher of water on her while she was on the floor and threw a folding chair at her before the stadium security swung into action.

It was the third such incident, but was the first to cause serious injuries since the group had been at our JBG meeting. I guess I had been right that they would not agree on anything.

Back at the gym another planning session was needed for the upcoming week. All kinds of things were happening and faster than I had planned. I was glad I had Jake, Dad, Jason and Robbie to fall back on for all the outside things that were going on.

I was soon going to miss Jake; he was leaving for Japan the first week of February to evaluate the progress on the Nuke cleanup project and would be gone for a week. . Kathy and Tony were both in for a surprise; they were going to Japan in Jake’s new jet, as he was going to tell them next week.
Then he was going to be setting up his Centreville Virginia construction site. J&J had won the bids for a bridge replacement and adding a second lane to one of the heavily used highways in the area. Tony’s wish for expansion of J&J was now a reality, to be built with concrete and rebar.

Marcy had agreed to assign two of her new clerks to Jake’s office until he decided where his business offices were going to be. With the Virginia and Pennsylvania locations, the decision where to place the main office would be a tough one for him.

The irony was that JBG being on Summers Road was nearly in the center. On top of that, our office had every bell and whistle there was. Another thing that caused a few chuckles – every time Jake drove over there, he came back late and cursing up a storm over the traffic on 66 to Washington. The last two times he needed to go over, one of the Bell 407 choppers carried him. Now that Lorrie had moved more of her people over to the Elizabeth Morton terminal building, we had office space to spare at the gym offices.

Jake was with Bob this afternoon setting up the hostage rescue site. Jake had text a picture of them trying to drive stakes in the frozen ground. The final group picture was them drilling holes for the stakes with a wood auger bit and a Dewalt battery pack drill.

Tomorrow the Iowa National Guard C130j-30 was loading the two Black Hawks for us bound for Africa and make the exchange. Glenn was eager to go again, even with the increased risk. It would make us down one chopper pilot as it was.

Darrell Anderson was transferring to the State Department Security Division of JBG permanently. The 500 a day hazard pay – tax free – was too much for him to say no to. He was going to be the pilot of their new Black Hawk going to Morocco. He and his bags were along for the ride.

I guess the Guard’s superior officers had lacked full confidence in their crew when a long over-water flight was involved.

They wanted them to fly the northern route, over Canada, Iceland, England, then swing south to Africa; all short hops compared to the long over the Atlantic flight our C130 made. Either way, it was a savings for us. All Marcy had to pay was fuel and lodging. This crew needed flight time and the Iowa Guard had been hit with big budget cuts. As with everything, training was the first thing cut.

If we did the exchange with our C130 it would have been four days with 2 pilots and a loadmaster. Lorrie was already short handed until the new people were fully on board, and there were still four more choppers that needed pilots furnished for them.

In a way it worked out better for us because the agency had flights booked for both of our C130s for the whole week.

The next thing happening on Monday was the 25 people for the Rapid Response team were starting. It was a good thing it was going to take two days for them to get through the HR training part of it.

Their routine would be physicals with the doc then head examination with the shrinks, and then physical strength and stamina testing. If they passed all that and agreed to the travel and short notice travel conditions, they would be offered jobs.

Those who accepted would hit the gym for a long list of required skills such as hand skills training and the rock climbing wall, until they were proficient at it. After that, they were hitting the mats with Ching Lee for martial arts, then first aid and CPR.

All this was to give Jamie and her new assistants Julia Brownly and Tammy Hill two and possibly three days – if they needed it – to run the 20 man Rochester SWAT team through the firearms training. They were going to need to prove their proficiency on fixed targets.

What no one but Jamie, Julia and I knew, Tammy Hill was a trick shooter as well as traditional expert marksman holding three Olympic gold medals. She was one of those special people with a revolver who made real fun out of shooting dimes off the post with a mirror. Tammy and Jamie would really put the SWAT team in place and show them up if necessary.

The gun club was going to change up the shoot don’t shoot course every two hours when they took breaks, just to keep them confused.

When they had all passed or finally given up, it was to the mats with Vicky, Ching Lee with the knuckle sticks and Ty. Then when I came home from KCC they were getting the advanced course from me, just to see just how good they were.

The change to my KCC schedule this week was that I was going to work all mornings. I had meetings both Thursday and Friday morning with college administration to finish up last years statistics. Patti would be in charge again each afternoon.

The rest of the afternoon – what little was left – was spent relaxing. Jenny started getting frisky again – she let everyone know it. I wondered if her hormones were changing again this late in the pregnancy. It would be only the six of in the basement tonight. We paired up and kept rotating partners until everyone was well satisfied.

Jenny wanted the big strap-on again. I had avoided using it the last few times we had played. With her on her knees on the sex chair so she could adjust to the best feeling and height, I took it slow and easy. I kept my hand tight around the dildo to make sure I did not go accidently too deep and in a position so my knuckles wreaked havoc on her clit.

Marcy, Lorrie, Ching Lee, and Vicky were tight against her to make sure she did not fall off the chair and were playing touchy feely and kissing all the sensual parts of her body. Just as Jenny finished cuming from all the loving, Vicky said, “Hey Jenny, got milk? I got two hands full.” That brought a chorus of , “Let me see,” as we helped Jenny sit up.

I knew right then that the boys would be born before the doc’s predicted due date. As big as Jenny and her boobs were, I wondered why she just started leaking milk.

After the showers I think we all slept like a rock. I know Jenny and I did.

Edit by Alfmeister
Proof read by Joe H.

I spent the rest of the day with my mates. We hit the gym for some r & r working out. Even with her large size Jenny was still doing exercises that her doc had approved. Jenny had another appointment with the doc on Wednesday the birth date was closing fast. After working out we had a quick lunch at the refreshment center.

We cleaned the house from top to bottom and even Crash and Marlene helped. Crash kept the trash cans empty and Marlene took a turn at the wash machines and driers. With the eight of us in the house plus guests we had two big commercial units. They made life easy until it came time to fold that big – assed pile of laundry when it came out of the drier. After the chores were done Jenny let us know it was time for dinner and where she wanted to go.

We went out for an early supper at the inn. Jenny wanted the surf and turf. Their seafood was always good, so not one of us objected to going there. There was always a crowd and a lot of people we knew. We asked for and got a table off to the side and out of view. It allowed us to have more quiet time together.

We had another wonderful evening, this time in the living room. We were just holding, touching, talking, and caressing – doing all the things that made us the family that we were.

We talked about my TV appearance for tomorrow. Jenny reminded me again and again to be careful in answering their questions so that I did not fall into any traps or divulge any potential classified information. All my mates were going with me; I had requested 5 tickets for audience seating. The producers told me that two were all that was allowed for a guest. “Not a problem, I won’t be there then, find yourself another guest,” I replied. It didn’t take long for them to find three more seats in the front row.

Sunday morning we ate at the Country Kitchen on the Island. It was on the way to Washington where I was to appear on the ZZN Sunday Morning Washington show. It was to be a solo appearance. There was no one from any agency to go with me for backup.

The show was to be live at 10. We arrived an hour early as instructed. They said it was to meet the panel, make up and sound test. I always wore a business suit as did all my mates. In the gym it was shorts, and at home it was over-grown tee shirts with nothing underneath.

I felt sorry for the poor makeup girl. She nearly had a heart attack when I took off my jacket. I never go anywhere without my Glock. The look on her face when she saw my holster tucked under my arm with the gun was priceless. She said nothing and quickly regained her composure.

With ten minutes to go, I went to the bathroom one more time then had a quick walk to the girls for one last piece of advice from them. Vicky and Ching Lee were the designated laptop holders. I kept my secure phones but set them to vibrate.

At 10 on the dot, the stage lights came up and the announcer went through the show opening spiel by announcing the panel and the guest for today’s show. It was strange to hear my name called out by the baritone announcer.

Candy Brown was the only female on the panel and the most liberal of this bunch. Her dislike of me was obvious in the pre-air meeting. Arthur Kennedy played the role of moderator and came across as being maybe slightly left of center. David Young, on the other hand, was hard right and proud of it.

“Today the panel welcomes for the first time, Roberta Jones, President of Jones Business Groups. Good morning Roberta, it is good to have you here this morning,” Arthur said.

“Good morning Ms. Brown, Mr. Kennedy, Mr. Young – it is a pleasure to be here. Please call me BJ; everybody does,” I replied.

Starting off round one Mr. Kennedy made the opening statement, “According to your website, JBG is a multifaceted company with divisions in security, aviation, transportation rental, real estate rentals, training and a gym. That is a wide scope of business ventures. Yet JBG is a privately owned company. How do you manage all that?”

“Well Mr. Kennedy, we have to get it right don’t we, you left out one of the most important parts of my company – the tanning salon. One cannot forget the importance of ones beauty can we?”

At that point there was laughter coming from the audience.

“As I stated, the six of us are the sole owners of JBG. As I said that the studio cameras panned to the girls.

We started small with an idea and never stopped. Each of us has department responsibilities and yet we cross-train to be able to run the other lines of business. However, I must admit the CFO position might be over my head,” I replied.

“Jones Business Groups is the new kid on the block; how is it that you secured such a prestigious contract with the state department?” Candy asked.

“JBG supplies security for 10 colleges with 20 thousand students and faculty with over 500 security personnel. Those employees are trained in-house with our own training program. We developed that training program with experts from many law enforcement agencies. It is a complete training program with firearms, self defense, first aid, CPR and takedown skills offered, along with annual recertification,” I replied and then added.

“Now state, local, and federal law enforcement go through our program. Our program convinced the Rochester police department to allow JBG to form our own college police department at Rochester University. It works well for JBG and the city of Rochester. Expanding internationally with the State Department contract was the next logical step,” I said.

“JBG took the contract over early and then you had two deaths. There are those who believe that JGB was not prepared. What is your response to that?” Candy asked, dripping with sarcasm.

I knew right away she was trying to bait me into saying something I should not.

“JBG stepped up early at the request of the State Department. I have personally visited nine embassies in South America and the Middle East. JBG management will visit all the embassies where we have personnel located.”

“JBG’s aviation division has already replaced 4 of the aviation units supplied to various embassies. The other six will be replaced before the end of the month. Vicky and I were on the ground in Riyadh while the attack was going on at the same time as the attack in Rabat Morocco,” I replied.

“You testified at the Senate hearing that the former Black Water people did not meet your standards. Expand on that please,” Candy said.

“Sure, JBG requires that all employees in the security and management divisions meet strict requirements and be recertified in those requirements yearly. There are no records of any of the former employees having any recurring training in the last two years, they will all be certified or they will hit the road,” I replied.

“In exploring your website there was a picture of you in a dress Marine uniform with a chest full of medals. How does a female Marine get so many purple hearts and other medals when women at that time were forbidden assignment in the front lines?” David Young asked.

“Well David, you are correct that women at the time were forbidden to be assigned to the front line fighting. But they could be assigned to support groups for the front lines. Transportation was one of those support groups. I drove trucks,” I said then continued.

“There are two ways to win on the battlefield, one – you over power the enemy with bullets and bombs or two – you destroy their supplies and shut down their supply lines. Without food, supplies and ammo surrender or retreat is the only option for even the best army.”

“Convoys supplying the front lines and outposts became easy targets. When I get shot at I shoot back and sometimes you get wounded or die. A lot of women died or were horribly wounded in this war, more than any other time in history,” I replied.

“Yes, you do shoot back, as I recall from the video of the Bogota embassy attack. I also remember you being a fairly good shot. Could I – for instance – take the firearms training at JBG?” David asked.

“Sure David, although there is a waiting list as a lot of people want conceal & carry permits now. Maryland is tough – DC even tougher – but you can get permits that cover 39 states. Sign up, pay the fee, don’t be on any restricted list; don’t forget, we do a thorough background check before you get to your first class,” I replied.

“Why do you bother with checks? I thought you just teach people to kill in the streets,” Candy shot back.

“If you are on a restricted list or should be, JGB will not train you, period,” I replied.

“You have to remember that there are more ways to kill people than just using a gun. Those killings only make a 10 second blip on the local news and not at all on the national level.”

“Our security personnel are trained in most ways to kill without a gun. If you know how to kill that way you also know how to prevent being killed that way,” I replied. Then I added “Why would I want to kill you and make a lot of noise when I can kill you quietly a dozen different ways, without making a sound?”

“Then why are we having all the gunfire and killing in the streets?” Candy asked.

“The answer to that are all the gangs, druggies and terrorists, all of them are making a statement. Gangs because it helps with recruitment and enforcement and the gangs grow bigger and bolder.”

“Drug dealers like big noisy guns protecting their turf and letting everyone know not to screw with the dealer. That helps keeps them in business.”

“Terrorist because they want the world to know they died for the cause, the more media the better because it encourages others to follow,” I said.

“If you are serious about reducing crime you have to get tough on criminals, not make it harder on law abiding citizens. When they do the crime make them do real time. Stop prosecutors from plea bargaining away jail time. When they commit another crime, the jail time doubles or triples to take repeat offenders off the street for longer periods of time.”

“I am a firm believer in the death penalty – use it often and swiftly. No more 20 years on death row. A conviction with a death penalty goes to the State Supreme Court, then to the US Supreme Court within a year and there must be compelling evidence to overturn a conviction. Then require the sentence to be carried out in 180 days by firing squad. It was good enough for Benedict Arnold and is swift and effective.”

“The death penalty should be expanded to cover more crimes and be mandatory and not changed by a judge or jury. It should cover 1st and 2nd degree murder, rape, sexual child abuse, distribution of drugs, human trafficking,” I said.

“We are out of time, hopefully you can come back another time and we can expand on those statements,” Mr. Kennedy said as the stage went dark to cut to a commercial before the closing statements from the panel.

Edit by Alfmeister
Proof read by Joe H.
Fine tuning by Bob

Rested but sore from all the fun last night, Lorrie, Vicky, Ching Lee, Marcy and I met Jake in the super hangar at 9. Jenny needed to finish up the project she had been working on for the task force at home. Jake was positioning the bullet stops end to end, tight together. I liked the final product they had built. Jake and Bob had improved on my hand-drawn blueprint.

When he had them in position, the girls and I stapled targets on the oak lumber. By the time we finished, Bob had called my cell to tell me that he and his foreman were in the restaurant.

We met Bob and his guys for coffee, and then went to the armory to get one of the Barrett M107 rifles, a field box of ammo and hearing protection. I was sure everyone would want to shoot at least a couple rounds.

Jake carried the rifle, Bob the ammo can (I was glad of it) and put it in the back of the Suburban along with the thin exercise mat to lie on. That dog-gone thing weighed 30 pounds and the ammo can was just as much.

The half-way sliding partition was 600 feet from the end doors or 200 yards. 200 yards was a good distance to see how the bullet stops held up.

The Barrett M107 was the rifle of choice by the Coast Guard for knocking out the engines of drug-runner boats. The 50 caliber round would go through the cast iron and aluminum engines like sliced butter, instantly destroying them. It could also penetrate a brick wall.

It was semi-automatic that allowed precise control from the Coast Guard choppers – one shot per trigger pull – unlike the belt-fed 50 cal that shots a dozen rounds per trigger pull, even if you were fast on the trigger. Those dozen rounds could lead to a lot of collateral damage from a bouncing chopper and gun mount.

The M107 was a favorite for snipers and used by many countries. It was also one of the weapons that the current administration had sent to the Mexican drug cartels in the Fast and Furious fiasco.

With proper training a sniper could make a kill shot at 1500 yards with ease.

After we lugged everything we needed from the Suburban, I started setting up to shoot. I put the mat on the floor by the divider and then handed everyone a pair of those disposable ear plugs and then a pair of industrial clamshell type hearing muffs. The reason for all the hearing protection was the M107 was one loud mother out in the open and I expected it to be worse in the closed-in hangar.

I pulled the 10 round clip from the gun and opened the ammo box. I handed Jake a round to look at and pass around to give everyone an idea what this bad-boy could do while I loaded the clip with the expensive rounds. Buying them in bulk and wholesale, they were $6.95 a round, not something that you went out in the back yard and shot a hundred rounds for shits and giggle.

With me lying on the mat, the tripod adjusted and the rifle pulled tight to my shoulder, I squeezed the trigger. Damn, that thing still had a kick even though it was supposed to be recoilless. Even with the double hearing protection it was loud. I shot two more rounds then let Vicky be next and then everyone else. I loaded another clip, flinching every time the gun fired.

We rode to the bullet stops to see if any bullets had gone through the first plate. With a light I looked at the back of the plate. It looked good – nothing had come through – but the heavy oak lumber on the front was taking a beating. It would have to be changed out often and we would have to be diligent positioning the target in different spots each time. The bullet stops passed the test.

I was confident that the bullet stops would handle anything that we shot at it in our normal course of training. It would be rare for the 50 cal to be used in any of the training courses. I just wanted it to test the stops. The 308 sniper rifle, M4 and M16 was my weapon of choice for the Rapid Response Team and what they needed to train with.

The Miller farm was adjacent to the airport. We drove out into the field behind the super hangar and then to the right in the field of wheat the farmer had planted as a cover crop. The property was offset from ours somewhat. It was a good thing. It allowed use of the access road to the fuel farm and maintenance building to get to the area where I wanted the training area put.

I wanted it as far away from the runway flight paths as I could get it. That turned out to be almost a mile. The site would also be blocked by woods from the highway – another good thing. A high razor-wire topped chain-link fence would be needed just to keep out any hunters who might accidentally wander in the woods – even though it was posted – or just plain nosey people.

As we were driving, Bob said, “I looked at the blueprints last night and the engineers are making the materials list today. There are a couple changes they wanted to add. One of them is a rail on the roof of the two story buildings that would meet OSHA specs. I know you are planning war games, but if someone falls off the roof OSHA won’t take that into consideration at all,” he said.

“Also, there were no stairs to get from the first to the second floor or to the roof. We added steel stairs to both and a cheap set of basement doors for roof access,” Bob said.

“Monday morning Hogan’s trucking will start bringing crush and rock to make a road to the site. They have a hundred trucks that have been sitting idle since Christmas when the blacktop plants closed down. It will be 8 inches thick, ten feet wide and right on the property line. I will have a roller pack it tight – with the weather changing so much it will be muck if we don’t,” Bob said as we were walking around the prospective site

“At the moment the ground is frozen 10 inches thick – it’s enough to hold the concrete trucks – but the afternoon sun will thaw the top enough to make a mess. The excavator and dozer will be here by seven to dig the footers for the four concrete block buildings. The dozer will level it off first then the excavator will dig the footers. My plan is to pour the footers and floor pad in one pour,” Bob added then continued.

“The dozer will also level a place to pour the second floor pads and roof pads. I am hoping to have all that done by Monday before it gets dark. I will change the partitions on the blueprint by a foot. That way the second floor and roof pad can be poured in equal pieces and would be easier to handle.”

“I have a big portable generator coming and the rental company is bringing a dozen Salamander heaters and light towers. My plan is to cover the concrete with plastic and blow in the heat under plastic to cure it faster and keep it from freezing overnight for a couple days. We will use the same system as the block goes up,” Bob said.

“The Lumber will also be coming on Monday to build the wooden buildings that you requested. I have every carpenter and block layer I can find coming on Tuesday; there are a lot of them out there who are looking for work. On a hunch, I took a look at the weather it’s predicted to turn bad in a week or so. If I can get them to work 12 hour days, I will get the tow company to bring my office trailer here so the guys will have a place to warm up at lunchtime and have some hot coffee,” Bob replied. “Buddy is coming at lunch time; he is going to help me stake it out.” Bob concluded.

I needed no more than five acres for this project – now I wondered what I was going to do with the rest of the property for the next ten years of the lease. Jason had rented the entire farm for security reasons. It gave us the right to keep everybody away. The wheat could be cut and no till beans planted; at least that would return some of the cost this year.

A few minutes before we finished our discussion with Bob, Jenny called saying that she was finished her project for the task force and that she was riding with Jason and Lisa on the way to the site and Dad was with them. Jason had the signed leases from the farmer.

“Ratz Miller wants to know if you want to buy his farm equipment too. I looked at it most of it is less than 5 years old. I will check out his price but I think it is a good one,” Jason said.

“Well, I am not a farmer, I do not want to be one any time soon, and further more I don’t know nothing about it,” I replied.

To my amazement my Dad spoke up, “Hey, you remember Grand Pop’s old farm – I grew up there. Farming has not changed, just the equipment and methods have, I am sure I can learn to run the equipment for you,” he said.

“Besides, we do have an ulterior motive, Jason and I want to put in a couple goose blinds and plant sunflowers to use it for dove hunting. There might also be deer that come out of the woods into the field,” Dad replied.

I just shook my head and laughed, “Ok you two, check it out, but I am not driving a grain truck for you either. Don’t even think of it,” I replied as a chorus of laughs broke out behind us.

Edit by Alfmeister
Proof read by Joe H.

At our Friday afternoon meeting we watched the recorded mid-day news clips of the Senate hearings and the news conference. There was a discussion that followed and a bit of gentle ribbing.

“Are you ready to go into politics?” Jenny asked before she started laughing.

“The day I say that I am, you can call the docs and have them commit me to the loony farm,” I said as I threw a crumpled piece of paper at her that she promptly threw back. At least she had not lost her sense of humor yet.

Ty Deshields from the agency knocked, then walked in and handed me a folder. I had texted him while I was in Washington and he was delivering me the information I had asked for. “The best one is on the top.”

While I was listening to reports I flipped through the documents, blueprints and pictures.

Roseanne’s report was on the 30 potential employees for the rapid response team. Twenty five had responded and fifteen of them were landing at BWI Sunday afternoon.

They were to wait in the MAAR lounge until groups of four had assembled then MAAR was to give them directions and send them to the Holiday East Motel in rental cars. The other ten were close enough that they were driving on their own nickel.

They were to be at the office at 0700 Monday to begin the three part process. Interviews, a meeting with the head docs, then our new physicals, the battery of drug test, pay, benefits and job offers were to take the first two days. Then the kick-ass work was to begin.

Then it was Lorrie’s turn to layout the meeting. She went over the list of potential hires to fill the pilot gap for Jake’s new jet and the four we needed to fill the new chopper request. Luckily there were still plenty of good chopper pilots leaving the military. Jack had the list and was evaluating their records and histories. The real question was were they willing to work in some of the worst paces in the world?

Interestingly enough, the DOD had added JBG as a possible employer in the separation packet given to the pilot’s Army, Air Force and Marine pilots. HR had a list to choose from. It was too bad that we did not have F15, F16, F18, C5A, C17, or Cobra Attack choppers; there were plenty of pilots with a boat load of hours in them looking for jobs.

To complicate Monday the SWAT team from Rochester was arriving. Ching Lee and her physical training group were anxious to get them on the training floor.

The shoot don’t shoot course had been changed to different silhouettes and sequences incase the first Rochester evaluation group had spilled the beans as to the set up when they were here.

The good news was Jake, Dad and Bob’s crews has finished the bullet backstops. Tomorrow I was going to help locate them in the far end of the super hangar in the position I wanted them. The publishing company out on 301 had printed off a thousand body targets and another thousand of smaller X targets for other practice shooting. The printouts were being stored in the armory with all our weapons and ammo.

I was going to take one of the Barrett M107 sniper rifles with a dozen rounds to check out the bullet backstops and make sure they were up to the task at hand.

We were nearly done when Bob finally made it to our meeting. I was beginning to get worried that he was too busy to be involved with my latest project.

While everyone was getting coffee refilled, I ran off copies of the plans I had decided on and passed them out to everyone.

“What am I looking at on these prints?” Bob asked.

“What you are looking at is a copy of the Fort Black Hostage Rescue and Target Control training site. I want you to build me a downsized version of it. They do not need water, pluming, sewage or electric. If electric is needed we will use generators and cords.”

“Maybe a dozen buildings close together on each side of a dirt road like a third world town shown in the pictures. Only 4 need 2 floors and they will need block walls because of smoke grenades, flash bangs and possibly training hand grenades will be used. The diagrams here show how to construct the two story block buildings using a maze to direct the blast so the building will be reusable indefinitely.”

“The wall needs to be 12 inch blocks. You will find the description is on page eight. And the ceilings needs to be poured concrete so men can rappel out of a chopper onto it. Also the ceilings need to be able to take the concussion of explosives too,” I said.

“Really, most of the houses can be a square using a front wall with a window and door, a rear door, and a sloped roof and maybe one partial wall as a divider. We can use plywood for siding, either painted or covered with tar paper,” I said.

“When do you want me to start and where do you want your new theme park built?” Bob asked.

“You know me – I wanted you to start yesterday and have it finished by mid – week. Except for the block ones – do not even put them on footers, just build them on skids. It just has to be done ASAP; we need them desperately for a new training module starting soon.”

“In fact it would be better with them on skids as for the wooden ones we could move them with the big forklift or a roll back can move them. If we have to – for speed, build wooden ones in the hangar and we can drag them with a tractor” I replied. Then I added.

“Be here at ten tomorrow and you can watch the test of the bullet stops. I will show you where to build them,” I said.

“The concrete roof is going to be a problem. It takes a lot of support and bracing for the pour to make that happen,” Bob replied.

“How about doing it this way? Build the first floor building by the blueprint; use 12 inch blocks. Then pour a slab on the ground for the ceiling/floor with extra rebar and lifting eyes; do all four of them that way. After that, just set them with a crane on top of the block work then block the second floor with 8 inch blocks and place the next slab on top of that. That will make it a piece of cake,” Jake replied.

“I had not thought about doing it that way,” Bob replied. “I will be in the restaurant at 10 tomorrow morning waiting on you. I will bring a couple of the crew who worked on the bullet stops. They think there was massive overbuilding put into them.”

After Bob left the Spanish inquisition started, “What exactly is going on with this?” Marcy asked and she was not alone.

“The State Department wants us to add a basic hostage rescue into the recertification and I definitely want our Rapid Response Team to have a more advanced version too,” I said.

“I talked to Eric and Frank – initially they will supply instructors to get us headed in the right direction. Eric gave me a company that supplies pyrotechnics to police departments. Our federal ATF license will allow us to buy from them as well,” I replied.

“Marcy, because it is an addition to the contract you need to create an SAP number for all cost associated with its setup and then we can figure out a bill-back option to the department,” I replied.

This Friday was special we were all home on the weekend, for the first time in a few weeks. There was a big orgy in the basement for tonight; the first big one of the New Year. All the gang was invited – Roseanne, Corry and the boyfriends, the north six, Jeanna, Marlene with Crash, even Patti was bringing Purnell – a first. Patti said they were going to get in the mood watching from the couch and then move to one of the rooms down there tonight. Patti asked if he could stay down there overnight. I invited Jake and Mindy too.

By midnight everyone was exhausted and Patti and Purnell could be heard even with the doors closed going down stairs.

Edit by Alfmeister

Proof read by Joe H.