Bjjonesmylife. Book 2

The boys wanted to eat with Vicky and me before we started our day in Lima Peru, so we slept in a little; the wake-up call came at seven. The four of us ate a real American breakfast in the hotel restaurant. We each had eggs, bacon, pancakes and sausage patties; Vicky even added a side of French toast to her order. After breakfast I cut the boys loose on the town. As the boys went one way, we went back to our room, packed, then checked out. I just hoped that they stayed out of trouble. If we stayed to the plan we would catch up to them tomorrow at the plane.

As I looked around, I noticed that there were a lot of Americans in this hotel and in a way it worried me. Large groups of Americans in any foreign country were easy targets anywhere in the world, it seemed like no place was safe anymore. I hoped cutting the boys loose was not a bad idea. It came to my mind that it was time for them to spend some time in the gym on the basics with some of the hot spots we were going to.

At eight after checkout, I called Ambassador James K. Smith and informed him that we were ready for transportation to the embassy. Fifteen minutes later the doorman informed us that our ride was out front. It was one of the JGB Suburban’s – it was one of the four year old SUV’s that were on the replacement list for this year.

I had wondered what we were going to do with the old armored vehicles as the new ones came in. You just can’t send them to the auto auction; there would be mayhem if they ended up in the hands of criminals.

I had finally decided that they would go back to the armor up-fitter to be rehabbed with that new car smell. The first seven were going to be assigned to us girls and Jason. Then after that, the security director at each college site would get one and the Rochester police force may get a couple

The leftovers will go into the Summers Road vehicle pool, unless the State Department authorized some sites to have more. What we would do with next years group was another matter.

The embassy at Lima was another new compound loaded with all the bells and whistles, one would ever want. All the buildings were separated by a good distance most were connected by a covered walkway. In case of emergencies there were underground tunnels connecting all the buildings. The compound had all the luxuries, pool, tennis court and basket ball court. The state department security personnel had separate sleeping quarters from the JBG personnel.

As we drove up I saw Elmer Harman at the curb waiting for us. Elmer had the door open as soon as the SUV stopped. I recognized him from my files. Elmer was the senior JBG employee on site. As I stepped out of the Suburban I realized just how big he was. I’m 5’ 9” – on the tall side for ladies – and I was leaning my head back to look into his face.

Elmer was at least 6’8” and I estimated he weighed 275 with no gut – his shoulders were that wide and his torso that big. If he had not played professional football, he missed his calling. Even with all my training, he was not an adversary I wanted to meet in a dark ally.

“Finally, we got someone who knows how to handle a fire-fight and come out on top. Our research on you shows you don’t like losing and can take a losing situation and turn it into a win. I’m Elmer Harman and all of us here are proud to call you Boss,” he said.

“How are your bodies from the hits you two took the other day? Still sore I bet,” he added.

“Let me show you around and make the introductions – everyone wants to meet you and Vicky. We have to hear everything about the Bogota embassy. We saw the State Department bulletins with the videos. The Bogota police released their report a few minutes before you called, damn that was nice shooting, nothing can compare to a first person play by play” he said.

After completing the tour and customary introductions, Vicky and I first sat through a combined meeting with both the JBG and State department personnel the Ambassador sat in on it too. Ambassador James Smith was a real smooth operator. He was cool, calm and nothing seemed to bother him. He had excellent rapport with everyone at the table.

I asked about previous problems with Black Water and there were many. Vicky and I addressed each and every one and set the procedure that I wanted followed any time they had a suggestion to improve communication and cooperation. I insisted that an open line be the norm between JBG and all the embassies.

I made the mistake of asking if there were any questions for us before we broke up this meeting and started the interviews. I should have known better, this group really did their homework well. Elmer asked about things related to my time in the military, specifically to the Widow Makers Pass Mission and the rescue mission at Camp John Roberts.

I forgot that Vicky was with me as I got into the story. I described the missions in great detail; I figured that they had found a way to get the complete details from my Marine Corps file anyway.

I had never talked details with the girls about my military service. At times I could tell Vicky was shaken by some of those details – it showed by the gasp in her breathing – I should have known better but I spared none of the details. What I did not know was that Vicky was recorded the conversation. I found that out several days later in one of our more private moments in the basement. While I was away at KCC, Vicky played the recordings in one of the many organizational meetings the girls held at the office for daily problems.

The fact that Vicky had played the recording for the girls slipped out in one of our orgy sessions. Marcy was studying my arm and the scars on my arm when she asked, “Are those scars from Camp John Roberts?” A bit surprised, I said, “Yes they are, how did you find out about them?” Then the story came out. I was not upset at Vicky; I knew that sooner or later they would know all there was to know about me.

Coming back to the present A couple more at the table asked about the KCC rape suspect killing and my shootout that followed. This time I let Vicky run with the story telling and filled in when necessary. Then came the Annapolis mall terrorist attack. Vicky went into great detail about that. Then I told the details of the Warrington terrorist attack, along with the incidents at Rochester and Frost Borough. I could tell that Vicky was still bothered by that.

It was Elmer who summed up the sentiment in the room, “We have no doubt where you will be if the going gets tough, standing beside us, not running away behind us.”

Vicky and I were in for another big state dinner, this time VIPs from Peruvian government were guests as were we. Vicky and I were quickly learning international politics, an area that I really had no interest in but now it was part of the job. I did my best not to start any International crisis. We made it through the evening without making fools out of ourselves.

If the first three embassies were reflective of all 80 complexes that JGB had employees were at, we had a serious problem to deal with. So far none of our State Department employees had any recurrent annual training in the last two years on anything.

The insurance company that held the coverage for the security department required that all employees who handled or were issued firearms requalify, and that our firearms certified instructor issue documentation and it be held in the employees file for five years.

Either Jamie was going to have to visit each embassy and give training there or all 500 employees were going to have to come to Summers Road and the gun club on Shooters Avenue in groups of 20 at a time. I highly doubted that it would ever be possible to get the permissions required to do any firearms training in the host foreign countries. I needed to put real serious thought into this problem and have a full meeting with all the players back home.

We spent the night in the guest room at the embassy. At 0500 we were in the air for La Paz Bolivia, the final stop on this first trip.

Edit by Alfmeister
Proof read by Joe H.

By 6, we were up, dressed, and packed and ready to go. By 0630 we had finished a light breakfast. By 0700 we were in G5 was climbing the great blue sky towards Ecuador. Vicky and I were both working on our laptops. I was replying to the remaining e-mails as fast as my fingers would type. Vicky was dealing with the up coming training schedules at the gym. We worked almost 35 minutes.

At 0745 right on time, the VCATS went off for our scheduled meeting with the JBG home office. The timing for this meeting was intentional to force it to be short meeting. Jenny, Marcy and Ching Lee were glad we were leaving Columbia behind us. I didn’t say anything, but Vicky and I had that very conversation as the landing gear doors chimed that they were closed 45 minutes ago.

We were still on schedule as far as our part of the plan, even after yesterday’s events. Lorrie confirmed that the chopper exchange was going as planned.

At 0756 Vance turned on the seat belt light and announcing that we were in the landing pattern at Quito International Airport- the signal to end the conversation that I had asked him for.

Another Suburban was waiting for us in the general aviation section. The ride to the embassy today was peaceful one with Daniel Hawkins as the wheel man. There were no angry crowds in the streets.

I remembered reading some of his file from the stack that Amy had left at our office.

I had a chance to review Dan’s file before we landed. His file indicated that he had been with Black Water for over ten years and was now the senior JBG employee at Quito. It was reassuring that he did time in the sandbox and had left the Marines after a disagreement with an officer. It was no surprise that he was immediately recruited by Black Water.

The US embassy at Ecuador was a very old embassy by its architectural look. There were large columns with crowns and flare trimmings. The blocks that made up the walls were huge by today’s standards, like the ones in an old historic castle. A winding road led up a hill; this embassy was built on the high ground.

In the front was a circular drive that ended with marble steps that led to a huge door like the ones you would see in the movies. That circular drive was made for horse and carriage or small cars; navigating the Suburban around it would have been a challenge.

Dan drove the Suburban to one of the side entrance gates. This one went into a majestic courtyard that was incased with a high stone fence made from the same type of stones the buildings were constructed from.

In that courtyard were several more buildings. One of them was – without any doubt – an intelligence gathering and communications building. It was bristling with antenna of all kinds.

Another building that I noticed was a garage with apartments above it. This embassy also had a pool, a tennis court and a basket ball court.

Dan pulled to the rear entrance of the embassy, which was as elaborate as the it’s front entrance. As we were getting our bags out of the Suburban, Dan introduced us to Ambassador Andrew Woodman, his wife Sally and his executive secretary Linda Charms, who came out to help us with our bags.

Andrew Woodman was a charmer; it oozed in his mannerisms and how he talked. I thought he was young for an Ambassador; he, Sally and Linda were not much older than I was. What caught my eye as we greeted them was how Sally and Linda were so bubbly. In fact there were signals that Sally and Linda were more than just friends – there was that look or touch that I was familiar with that I shared with my own mates.

Even though it was nearly nine, breakfast was just being set out on the table. Andrew invited Vicky and me to sit down to a feast, to my surprise it was like a morning breakfast I would have cooked at home on a normal Sunday morning. They did their homework on us as we did on them.

The conversation over breakfast was mild and relaxed, and the food was great. Sally and Linda were gently probing about our company. They had a lot of interest in how six girls came to lead such a large company. They were even more surprised that we were the owners and not a front to get preferred status for government contracts.

“If it were a front, I don’t think I would be taking bullets for them,” I replied.

That changed the conversation over to yesterday’s shootings in Bogota. They had watched the State Department provided footage of the events and the newsreel, and had been very afraid that the unrest would spread over much of South America.

I asked about previous threats in the area and if there were any known radical groups in the area. This was my first test on how things operated here, and I did not like what I heard.

“No, we don’t have any problems like that here,” Andrew replied.

I guess the he did not know I could access the department’s alert system or that I understood that all those antennas on the building out back were not there for birds to roost on.

I had looked at today’s alerts before I stepped off the plane. There were several notes of interest for Ecuador; two of them were active. That in it raised red flags; either he was trying to BS me, trying to find out what I knew or someone in high levels did not trust him completely. The other thought was that he simply did not take that part of his job seriously. I would need to look at things in more detail when I had the time.

It was time to move on from the chat and get on with business.

“I would like to take a tour of the site and meet my employees,” I said.

The tour of the place started with Andrew, Vicky and me walking the grounds with him pointing out various sights. There was a winding staircase that went up to the roof observatory. From there we looked out over the city. Andrew pointed out the postcard shots; I wasn’t impressed.

Vicky and I were both still sore from yesterday and the three flights of stairs did not help. I was glad that going down would be easier. Then there was the tour of the parking garage. The security employees bunked there, I was told. I thought it was interesting that in the tour I saw no one in a security role. That was another concern that needed looking into when I had the time.

We went past the building with all the antennas. Andrew calmly told me that he did not have access to that building so there would be no tour of it. I noticed that it had an electronic card lock. I would try my ID card before I left.

It was 1100 before I finally met the rest of my employees in one of the meeting rooms. Besides Daniel Hawkins there were three more men and two other women. Alice Dorsey and Ellen Mills were the two ladies – Randy Thomas, Bill Wilders and Sandy Thompson were the men.

Alice and Ellen were the same ages as Andrew, Sally and Linda an interesting coincidence I thought.

Cindy had been working diligently on the Black Water files for me. In this morning’s email I had a file of all the employees here and for all other assets at each site we were visiting this trip and at all stops from now on. The file was complete with employment history, job appraisals, pay history – even the original job application – and it was now on my laptop.

I was going to interview them together and then I was going to review the files on each one of them again. If I had any questions, I would approach them separately for the answers. I had questions for Alice and Ellen that I had better ask privately.

As a group, I asked what training Black Water had given them in the last year, when their weapons were replaced and when they had qualified with the weapons. I started to get the feeling I had my work cut out for me here.

I saw red flags in their files as I read them and in their answers. Alice and Ellen had been hired at the request of Andrew and neither had anything in their background that stood out. There was no special training or skills in diplomatic or security, so why were they here? If I had to guess it was as playmates.

I could not flag Andrew for a more intense check but I could Alice and Ellen, because I was paying them. The fine print written in the contracts by Fine, Howard and Howard allowed JBG to realign employee assignment and locations as necessary after the full takeover. That also included training as necessary at my discretion. Security at this embassy was in need of a work over.

I sent both Victor and Jason an email that I wanted a full the background report on Alice Dorsey and Ellen Mills, not the cover story that was in the file. Even though I thought I knew the real reason they were there.

I dismissed the group after I asked if they had any questions for me. There were a few basically general questions. As they were walking out I asked Dan to stay.

“What in the hell do those two women do? I see nothing in their files to indicate any security or intelligence training at all. Yet they are listed as bodyguards for Mrs. Woodman and they have no weapons training or certifications. Where do they spend their time?” I asked.

I hated to put Dan on the spot like that but he was the senior JBG employee on site and received a pay grade step as site leader.

“They arrived a few days after Andrew and Sally and we were told they were part of the security detail. When I asked questions, I was told not to ask any questions,” Daniel replied.

“When you have questions or think there is something going on that YOU thinks I need to know about, YOU call me direct,” I replied as I handed him one of my personal business cards that few people get.

I finished the interviews and then made nice with Ambassador Andrew and his wife Sally before dining on another extravagant supper.

By 2100 we were back on the G5 and were fastening our seatbelts as it was taxing towards the runway, waiting our turn to take off. It was a three hour flight to Lima Peru, and then add in over an hour in a holding pattern. It was 0130 when Vance, Charlie, Vicky and I checked into the five star hotel at the Jorge Chávez International Airport just a few miles from Lima.
Edit by Alfmeister
Proof read by Joe H.

With the mess outside contained I entered the embassy. With the adrenalin rush gone I realized my chest hurt like hell. My pain reminded that Vicky had been shot also I found Vicky in the security control center with both the agency and the JGB people. They had watched and filmed the whole thing on the state department video system and were watching the CZZN world news special broadcast on the events happening outside.

CZZN reporters were a real piece of work. Apparently they were mixed in with the protesters while doing a live broadcast. The only thing that did was make the protesters braver and more insane. Seeing the live video of reporters and the protesters running away from our Molotov cocktails made my day – that a few moments ago they were championing as a right of protest – was hilarious.

I just knew repercussions would be coming or at least I thought they would. From the shootout in the back to the bottle throwing and fire out front elimination of the sharp shooter, all state department personal world-wide could see it live on the State Department system surely there would be those that were critics.

“How are you, Vicky?” I asked.

“I hurt like hell,” she replied. “How about you?” she asked.

“I took a hit too,” I replied.

With a full audience I helped her take her jacket off along with her blouse. I pulled the two slugs from her Kevlar vest as I was taking pictures with one of my cell. “You may want to keep these as souvenirs,” I said as I handed them to her.

Next the vest came off and the bra.

“I am not putting that back on,” she said.

“And you won’t for a couple weeks,” I replied.

Vicky had two very large bruises. I asked for ice packs to help slow the swelling and help with the pain.

Now it was my turn. I thought I had only been hit once but there were two slugs in the vest. Like Vicky, I iced my bruises while I watched the video, then I sent the pictures from my phone to the office along with a text to be in my office for a VCATS conference in ten minutes. Cindy and Marcy knew how to run it.

The embassy staff cleared out while leaving the video controller to allow a confidential VCATS call to the gym. The staff had plenty to do with the Bolivian federal police – who were nonexistent during the protest – and were now investigating the two dead would be terrorist out back and were very agitated. I knew that Vicky and I were soon going to be required to give a statement, maybe more. We didn’t fear them it was Jenny that worried us the most.

VCATS came alive and I was looking at all of the JBG senior staff. It was easy to see Jenny was beside herself but very relived to see that we were OK.

“If luck has nine lives, you are running out of numbers; the pictures show that both of you were hit at least twice,” Jenny said.

“Yeah, I know, I promise we will be more careful,” I replied.

“Has it hit the world news there yet and what are they showing?” I asked.

“CZZN has been running live feeds of the riots at the embassy. The onsite reporter is biased and still adding fuel to the problem,” Marcy replied.

“The controller is going to link the security video to our feed. You are going to be able to see what happened behind the wall. Record it for me, Marcy,” I said.

The controller ran all the video from the beginning and ended when the building across the street disappeared from view as the blazing inferno collapsed.

One of the fence cams that were aimed to the rear of the embassy building caught the instant that both Vicky and I were hit in the vest. It also caught the rest of the shoot-out, the dead men falling and the action with us filling the beer bottles with gasoline to make our own Molotov cocktails.

I did not say anything but when we returned home I would run the tape in slow motion.

“BJ, check out the Suburban to see if the armor company can repair it here. I have ordered 25 to replace the oldest models but they are several months away. If it can not be repaired on site, we will have to lease one,” Marcy said.

“10-4, will do, and get some good pictures for them to evaluate before we leave,” I replied.

As an afterthought I called Vance, “Be on your toes, Vicky and I killed two people a short while ago. Watch each other’s back closely,”

Ambassador Ransum came in and told us we needed to make a statement to the Columbia Federal Police Investigator Mr. Jose Lacarte. He also said that Washington had instructed them to give the police a copy of the rear gate footage as part of complex international agreements.

We dressed, including the vest, after Ambassador Ransum had taken close up pictures of the impact sites on the vest. Then we were escorted into a meeting room to wait for the Columbian Federal Police investigator.

Vicky and I spent the next two hours answering all the normal questions with the Ambassador sitting in. What were we doing here, why were we carrying weapons, who started shooting first, how many shots did we fire. The video was played and replayed.

Then we had to go to be rear gate for a reenactment. Ralph Owen and Roberto went with us to play their part in the reenactment. The shell casings ejected from Vicky’s and my Glock’s were found and marked with tags. The place where the bodies fell was marked with paint and a brush. I guess they did not use chalk or spray can paint in Bolivia.

Jose had us stand in our spot’s then strode off the distance “36.5 meters,” he proclaimed to his assistants in Spanish in a conversation the lasted several minutes before he walked back.

“Thirty six and a half meters and both of you put three rounds in an area the size if my fist. How often to you practice?” he asked.

“At least every two weeks; we try to make the range as it is a company policy to stay proficient,” I replied.

“What else are you proficient with?” Jose asked.

“M16, 50cal Barrett sniper rifle, 308 Remington BDL sniper rifle, and a 12ga for fun,” I replied.

“Just for fun – I doubt,” he replied.

Jose declared the investigation over for now and then asked how long we were staying.

“We are leaving in the morning for Quito Ecuador,” I replied.

It was three in the afternoon with only a breakfast bar this morning and I was hungry. I knew Vicky had to be as well. I asked about something to eat. The chef was preparing food for us now, I was told.

The day that was to be information sharing with the embassy staff and my new employees had turned into a life or death battle for us. I assumed that the former Black Water people were to stay proficient and they proved that they were here.

Had another Benzi fiasco been prevented? Only the powers to be had the final say on that. In my mind the answer was yes. The proof was sitting across from me and Vicky enjoying fresh salad. In between bites there were conversations about our business. There were no questions about how committed we were to providing security. That was answered by action.

The afternoon and early evening were spent with the embassy staff and the JBG employees. The JBG employees produced a list of security concerns they had sent to Black Water. There was a red line through one of them. The building across the street had a red line placed through it with a note.

“Very effective and fast action on this item, Thank you.” Also in the red pen it was initialed by all the JBG employees.

I took several dozen photos of the Suburban to send to Marcy and checked the thing over for other hidden damage. Using the embassy internet and my laptop, I emailed them to Marcy. When I clicked my in box I almost fell out of my chair. I had 1500 emails with hundreds marked urgent; it was going to be a long night.

I spent two hours on the urgent e-mails, the rest of them I would handle on the flight to Quito Ecuador tomorrow morning. The urgent ones were from ambassadors, high ranking government officials, the newly acquired JBG employees from the other embassies and the JBG college security sites.

The one that gave me ease about today’s events came from Victor Edmonson, director of embassy security for the State department. It was a big smiley face with a double thumb up.

Vicky and I were treated to our first full dress evening dinner. It started with red and white wines, appetizers and a full course meal including after dinner drinks and a rich desert. It was a first for Vicky and a first in ten years for me.

Vicky and I took one last trip to the control room to view the perimeter security cameras and have a few last words with the JBG personnel working the night shift. They would be off when we left early tomorrow morning.

The guest room had one of those presidential names and two king size beds. Vicky and I showered together – we both needed to help each other washing. The bruises were big and turning black and made moving in some ways very painful.

I thought Vicky would want to sleep alone to be comfortable; I was wrong. She slid into bed and gently moved against me. Before the goodnight kiss she said, “I want to snuggle but please don’t squeeze me hard.”

“That works for me too,” I replied as I turned out the light and snuggled gently against her back.

Edit by Alfmeister
Proof read by Joe H.

We had barely made it to the fancy pillared front door when one of those weaknesses became apparent with all hell breaking loose; bullets started bouncing all around us. At the same time several Molotov cocktails came over the security fence. There were people trying to force open the main gate. I had a bad feeling that I had arrived in the middle of another Benghazi nightmare.

My first thought was the shooter in the building across the street; I could see the muzzle flashes in third story window. The building was indeed derelict; many windows broken out, others boarded up. Only the third story looked used at all.

It only took an instant to realize that it was used to spy on our embassy by a variety of people, world powers when needed, local elements and even the Columbian government. All stressed governments wanted to know who their prominent citizens were talking to.

Our government was no different but had taken it to a new level in the electronic age. Torture was no longer necessary to gather everything you wanted to know about anyone.

The second volley of Molotov cocktails came over the fence, free falling far short of hitting anything important. I suspected the gunfire was to make us keep our heads down while other things were being carried out. No one had been hit by the gunfire and we were easy targets, far too easy to miss unless it was intentional.

Owen and Roberto ran to close the heavy disaster gate designed for real emergencies. Vicky and I ran around the back to look at the rear entrance. We made the corner just in time to see four men inside the gate. Two had automatic rifles the other two were being handed gas cans over the top of the gate. All four were wearing ski masks.

I yelled in English “Hands up, drop the guns,” Vicky did the same in Spanish. They turned the guns that had been pointed in the air as they were helping their companions and leveled them to body height and started firing.

More of the sweet sweeper mentality weapons training; start wide, pull the trigger and sweep the area – you were bound to hit something.

They were forty yards away, a tough shot for a pistol but we had trained for the tough shots; anyone can make the easy ones. If you cannot hit the target with a kill shot at ten yards, put the handgun in the safe and forget it, reach for the shotgun instead. Thirty and forty yard shots separate the wannabe from the professionals and we were professionals.

Vicky was to my right and in all the training I had given, protocol was the person on the right was responsible for people on the right. At that distance the 40 cal. slug drops like a rock and the action of the gun makes it pull to the right while firing multiple shots. I aimed at his right ear and pulled the trigger three times.

It was more of my military training that I passed on to everyone who went through my training courses. Fire three shot groups for the kill and move to the next target. The exception to the rule was unless you were facing overwhelming numbers and the ammo supply was in doubt, and then it came down to your skill and confidence level.

If you had to pull the weapon and fire, making it a kill shot was the only acceptable outcome in my playbook. I finally convinced Jamie to teach that tactic to all my employees. I did not want a wounded individual to roll over and shoot an employee in the back when their attention was directed elsewhere.

I had taken one round in the vest before I finished firing and it hurt like hell. Thankfully we had brought the latest vests we had, we upgraded to Kevlar, the fifth generation super strong and yet thin and with light-weight ceramic plates to allow comfort and movement. Now I knew I would find out how good they were in a minute or two.

I wondered if Vicky had been hit but she fired her three round burst moments after I did. That question was answered by, “Damn that fucking hurts. Are you OK BJ?”

The two men carrying the automatic weapons were in a pile. The other two inside the back gate were trying to reach for the moon and suddenly became very good at English. “Don’t shoot we surrender, don’t shoot,” while the others on top of the gate and on the other side had run off

By now agents from both JBG and the agency group were with us and immediately cuffed the two that had surrendered and removed their hoods they were wearing. They did the same to the dead ones, while checking them for identification. The two prisoners suddenly didn’t speak English anymore but were demanding to speak to the Somalia Embassy representative in North African gibberish.

With the incursion of the compound foiled and the action out front under control I turned my attention to Vicky. She was holding her chest with a very painful expression on her face but I saw no tears and thank God no blood.

“Tell me I am going to be able to breathe again any time soon,” she said.

I moved her arms out of the way to look at her chest. The vest had stopped two rounds six inches apart and I could see the slugs still embedded in the material of the vest.

I pointed to the slug in my vest and said, “You have two; we need to get you x-rayed to check for cracked ribs but it may be best to do it back home. If you think you can wait, I will look at you when we get inside.”

The conversation was ended by yelling from the front of the embassy. I pointed to Vicky, “You, inside NOW,” as I followed the group to the front. We left the inside guys to take care of the mess out back.

The Molotov cocktails were getting more accurate and more distance. The guys on the dilapidated building were no longer trying as hard to miss. Owen, Ralph and I were crouched beside the Suburban using it to block the incoming rifle rounds. The practically new armored Suburban was being used for target practice.

“That building is a tinder box. Those gas cans are still out back; do you have any glass bottles?” I asked.

“Yeah, out back – the recycle glass bin is full,” Owen responded. We went in the passenger side of the Suburban and drove around the back. None of the rifle bullets had penetrated into the passenger compartment yet, testifying to the integrity of the contractor who did the armor modification. But if they kept hitting the same spots in the 1 inch thick glass, it would not hold up much longer.

Ralph headed for the gas cans while I selected glass bottles that I thought would shatter easily. Owen went in the back door for matches, a propane torch and a funnel from the garage area.

Five minutes later we were back at the Suburban and quickly filled the two dozen beer bottles with gasoline. Yes, it was real gas, none of the 10% ethanol slow burning crap. Owen had grabbed a handful of rags. I ripped them in strips and folded each several times, then shoved them in the full bottles as stoppers with a piece of wooden dowel. The cotton rags would act as a wick to stay lit.

“Owen, drive right beside the fence. As soon as Ralph and I get the bottles unloaded, drive back to the building and give us covering fire,” I said.

With the torch lit and resting against the wall, Ralph and I lit each bottle and threw them as hard as we could against the old wooden building. What gas that didn’t stick to the building fell back down on the protesters on the street.

After the first four or five bottles, the noise on the street diminished, the protest was over for now and they were clearing out of the street at a run. Ralph and I threw all two dozen bottles against the building, some into the windows. We spread them out the entire length of the building for good measure.

The building was already an inferno when the last bottle hit it. The protesters were now blocking the end of the street slowing down the fire brigade. Owen drove the Suburban over to pick us up and parked it to give us cover to get into the building.

Edit by Alfmeister
Proof read by Joe H.

At 0500 the overhead chime went off. I was cat napping anyhow, ready to get up. The red light was flashing on the com phone as I picked it up.

“BJ, you asked that we notify you when we were an hour out from Bogota; we are just a little over that. The controllers called and asked that you log into mobile VCATS immediately,” Vance said.

I slipped on yesterday’s blouse over my shoulders, not bothering to button it and said to Vicky, “We are an hour out; get dressed. I have an emergency VCATS to make then I will get dressed.” A stop by the head for a quick tinkle and a towel to sit on then made my way to the main cabin to sit in front of the plasma and logged in.

I was looking at a chat request from Victor Edmondson when the screen came up.

“Good Morning BJ hate to start this early but we may have a situation developing in Bogota this morning. The Columbian government hit several drug kingpin compounds and manufacturing sites last night using Chinese made drones. They missed their targets; either had bad information or they were set up. They hit two orphanages, in the process killing a lot of kids.”

“They had kept their drone purchase a secret so naturally the general public is blaming it on the US because of our drone use in Africa and the Middle East. There are protesters outside the embassy complex. Stay at the airport with your plane and as soon as the government clears the area they will send one of the armored Suburban’s for you,” he said. Then he added, “The Columbian ambassador is expecting no more than an hour.”

“If you want we can divert to Quito Ecuador today and return tomorrow,” I replied.

“Do not make that decision yet; you still have plenty of time. I will update you in 45 minutes,” Victor replied as he signed off.

I stuck my head into the cockpit, “Vance, did you hear that conversation?”

“Yes, what do you want me to do?” Vance replied.

“Slow us down to give them more time and plot a course to Quito as a backup for today, if we have enough fuel to make the change,” I said.

“Sure enough boss, I’ll have the info by the time you get dressed,” he replied.

I knew he had seen all there was of me to see, so I just winked at him then turned and returned to the rear of the plane.

Today was full dress up, bra, panties that I never wore a little make up, bullet proof vest under the blouse and form fitting slacks topped off with my shoulder holster and jacket. Vicky was already dressed, looking through the snack bag for a breakfast bar.

Vicky had coffee done by the time I finished dressing. I filled two of the spill proof mugs plus my own and went forward to the pilot’s cabin and handed Vance and Charlie each one with packets of sugar and cream.

“Boss, Quito is 600 miles away and we have plenty of fuel if you want to divert there,” Vance said.

“I will call in 30 minutes for an update then decide,” I replied as I sat back in the fancy chair in front of the plasma again. Vicky took the one beside me. I filled her in on the events as I was logging into the real time Google feeds to see if they had one for Bogota.

There it was, in living color on Google, mobs of people on the surrounding streets of the embassy. As I moved the image on the embassy, the streets were less crowded because the embassy was on a narrow side street.

The entrance to the embassy grounds was on one side of the narrow street and on the other was a row of old wooden three story buildings. At one time they may have been middle class apartments; it was hard to distinguish from the Google map but the condition of those buildings did not look very good.

We were almost to the decision point when Ambassador Dorsey Ransum sent a page on VCATS to chat.

“The unrest is almost over, go ahead and land but stay with the plane. I will send one of the Suburban’s to pick you up as soon as ii is safe to pick you two up,” he said.

We landed and were directed to park in one of the general aviation spots away from the main terminal complex. It was an hour later that one of our Suburban’s finally showed up to pick us up.

Thortan Garrison, Owen Myers, Roberto Kline and Ralph Abbott – all former Black Water who joined the JBG team were in the Suburban. All the embassies where JBG was now part of had at least four employees, some with 10 or more.

“Hi Boss, I’m Thortan Garrison. This is Owen Myers, Roberto Kline and Ralph Abbott – it’s great finally to meet you. Sorry you had to come in the middle of this mess,”

“Sounds like it is under control to me,” I replied.

Owen laughed at that statement, “It is never under control here; there are just days that there is less to deal with than others. We had to leave out the back gate; they are still protesting out front. In this part of the world the US is getting blamed for anything and everything. But then, the Russians thru Havana are pushing things hard behind the scenes.”

“Nothing ever changes in the world arena, just the players,” I replied.

On our way to the embassy, the guys pointed out all the places of importance and those that made the travel brochures. As we drove to the embassy they warned us of the places that you only went in groups of three or four, even though we had no plans or time to sight see.

They drove past the main street in front of the embassy planning to go in the front entrance, only to find the street still full of protesters. Thortan continued down the street, and around the corner to the rear entrance. The sidewalks were full of protesters but no one was blocking the street. As we made it to the rear entrance Owen and Roberto jumped out to make sure no one made a mad dash to get onto the grounds as the gate opened.

As we walked from the parking area towards the front entrance, Thortan and the guys began pointing out weaknesses in the security of the compound. The weaknesses had been reported to their Black Water supervisors for months, yet never passed on to State Department officials.

“Before I leave get me your documentation and I will look at each item so I will know what I am talking about and I will forward the issues up the ladder,” I said then added. “What are your counterparts from State saying about those issues?” I asked.

“We are assigned perimeter security; they stay with Ambassador Ransum,” Owen replied, “for them it is a non issue.”

Edit by Alfmeister
Proof read by Joe H.

Our evening meeting solved several issues. Jason and Roseanne as our heads of HR were going to make introduction calls to all 80 embassies, to the 500 new employees we had just picked up. Because of the time of the calls, It would be hit or miss as to if those employees were working that day.

We given contact numbers for each embassy for non-classified general communications only; the idea was to try that to make contact that way first. Then send an email to all 500 employees, a welcome to our company letter with an electronic JBG Employee manual.

Along with the initial call, let each embassy pick a time when we could have a VCATS meeting with each embassy group of employees.

Amy requested that I or an executive VP personally visit all 80 embassies that JGB now had employees at. We decided that Marcy and Jenny would make no trips at the present time, Jenny because of her due date and Marcy because there was just so much going on in the office with all the new accounting with the Agency.

As a group, it was decided that Vicky was going to accompany me on the first cycle leaving Wednesday night. Our plan was to use the guest rooms each embassy had if we planned to stay over. The pilots would stay in hotel rooms. If they did not trust the airport personal, they would rotate staying with the plane for security. State was paying for a 3 man crew for these flights.

The other good news came from the mechanics; they had figured a way to disassemble enough of a Black Hawk and a 407 that they would both fit in a C130 safely. La Paz Bolivia would be the last of our stops on the way back. The C130 would arrive there Thursday evening by flying the commercial air routes with fuel stops at commercial airports along the way.

The mechanics and the pilots would be working together to unload, assemble and flight test fly the choppers. Then they were going to disassemble and load the out of service Black Hawk and the 407 for the flight back Sunday evening.

Lorrie made the flight plans Vicky and I would use one of the G5LR. We would take off Wednesday night to cross over Texas then turn south over central America and to the first stop; Bogota, Columbia. Vicky and I were going to sleep on the night flight, spend the day in Bogota and spend the night in a guest room at the embassy. The second part; an early morning flight Friday – a short flight to Quito Ecuador – and spend the day at the embassy there.

Friday night called for a much longer flight to Lima Peru and spends Saturday at the embassy there. Saturday night was another night flight to La Paz Bolivia and meet up with the 130 crew on Sunday morning. Hopefully their work would be mostly over so they could head back to Morton field while I made PR with Adam Cartwright.

Vicky and I would fly back Sunday night and sleep on the way and arrive in time to have breakfast with our mates. I needed to be in Rochester by noon on Monday, January 1, for the press conference and kickoff of the Rochester College Police force. The 20 employees that were going to make up the police force there were going to be issued a different Badge and uniforms.

The entire crew was going – Jason, Lisa, Roseanne, Cindy and Mark came along too. Even though it was a holiday they wanted to go and be a part of the celebration. I think they just wanted to fly in the G5.

I now was literally carrying a mobile office around with me everywhere I went. At all times, I now had to carry two smarter than smart phones, a satellite phone and two laptops. At least the laptops, satellite phone and all the necessary chargers were in a heavy duty briefcase. I don’t think I could carry any more with me in the G5LR After all that, I still needed to be at KCC on Tuesday morning.

When I finally got to the gym Cindy had the work schedule list on my desk. I spent two hours on VCATS and the general communications line. After having enough of that for one day I spent the rest of the time downstairs in the gym keeping fit and in fighting shape.

Tuesday and Wednesday was spent on the phone and VCATS again, this time confirming the schedule. The C130 was flying out Wednesday morning and refueling in Texas before flying on. It would land in La Paz Thursday morning, for the hard work to begin.

Somewhere mangled among all the parts, the mechanics and crew were going to set up cots to sleep or those little jump chairs in flight. I should feel a little sorry for them but I had been there and done that many times.

Hell, I had even had sex one time at twenty thousand feet in a C130 in heavy turbulence; that was a wild ride. I still blush just thinking about it. The guy was very well hung and the slamming of the plane drove him so deep at times it hurt. I was sore for at least two days. It was just one of the memories from my wild youth.

Wednesday afternoon Vicky and I went to the gun club to do some practice shooting to keep our skills up. We both cleaned our Glocks at home and reloaded the clips.

Then it was time to pack clothes for four day journey. I recommended that we carry the normal unmentionables and professional pant suits, no dresses and our normal lady’s version of a men’s dress shoe. It was a good shoe to run in or use defend your self in. For tops we needed ones loose enough to wear over our vest with long sleeves and a business jacket loose enough to cover the fact we were carrying.

Then we spent an hour in hugs, kisses and good-byes. It was tough for us but we all knew it was going to happen. I whispered into Jenny’s ear that she better not go into labor while I was away or she would get the wet noodle treatment when I got back to be safe, I planned not to schedule any trips for at least two weeks in advance of her due date and stay close to the gym. Cindy, Mark, and Roseanne could fill in for us if a trip had to happen.

At 9 PM we were boarding the G5 with our bags and bags of travel goodies. The pilots had been off for two days to rest up and they had the flight schedule that long to get oriented to a night flight schedule. Most of the flying was at night. At nine fifteen we were crossing the bay headed south at ten thousand feet and climbing.

For this trip The G5 had been fitted with a twin aircraft bed, a single convertible day bed and a privacy curtain for this flight. Vicky and I were going to use the twin tonight – the pilots could fight over it tomorrow if they did not want to go to a motel.

By ten we were in that twin naked and holding each other with the hum of the turbines to sleep by.

Edit by Alfmeister
Proof read by Joe H.

With 30 minutes to spare, I spent it looking at emails, and I was getting a ton of them. All the emails that originated from the college division were coded. I only looked at those starred important and responded if needed. Cindy handled the rest or added notes and then sent them to me.

Then there was the shocker in the form of a folder from Amy Lockerman. The folder contained a link to the State Department email server, instructions with using my old military ID number as login and a temporary password.

At midnight last night I started getting copied on all emails between State and corporate Black Water and all emails between Black Water corporate and their employees at the eighty sites that we were taking over. They were in that folder.

Black Water was being served by Federal Agents from multiple agencies at 4PM today. Today was the forced end of their contracts with all agencies. At the same time all clearances at the corporate level were cancelled and all communication directed to Black Water from all federal agencies was redirected to JBG.

There were copies of court orders from the federal courts and the bankruptcy court handling the end of Black Water. I clicked the forward tab to send the legal documents to Howard, Fine and Howard, our corporate legal team. They had been handling that part of this venture for us.

I printed off the sections of the legal crap to give to Jenny. There were court orders to the Norfolk Bank awarding JGB the ownership of vehicles and choppers. The bank had turned down the initial offer that Marcy had made. The bank elected to have a mediator place a value on the equipment for them.

That had been a mistake as a result of being greedy. The final result was a price much lower than the one Marcy offered that they now were forced to accept from the mediator. The mediator had written off the choppers that were out of service as total losses and factored recovery cost so high on the other vehicles that many of the older ones were better off to be abandoned in place.

The mediator had reduced the value of the equipment by the cost to move it to a central location. The cost to do that was a tremendous deduction on the value and was counter to our plans to leave it in place and use it.

I was sure the agency had influenced the mediator, either way the Norfolk Bank and its insurers were left holding the bag. I was sure glad we were not using Norfolk National Bank for anything.

All this, even though expected to happen sooner than the official date, to happen this soon required more immediate action on our part. That was another topic for our meeting tonight.

The final e-mail from Amy was to watch the evening national news. There would be announcements and file footage from the contract signing. I was interrupted from my thoughts by the entrance of Duke, Clarence and Graham York. Graham was the new director of the EMS division for the County.

Duke started off the meeting by suggesting that we have a public access open house for Morton Field now that it was completed and operational. Lorrie countered that one was already in the planning stages for the spring or early summer.

“The county has been approached by a commuter air service that wants to fly a route with stops at local county airports, Ocean City, Salisbury, Dorchester, Easton, and Queen Anne, landing at BWI or Reagan. The county thought we should pass the information on to you. Morton Field is more centrally located and far better equipped,” Duke said as he handed the information over to Lorrie.

“You offered to make Morton Field available for EMS Aviation. We have had several close calls that warrant we (The County) take another look at the offer. One was a fuel contamination problem, the other was a drone flown by the tax assessment division that got out of range of its controller,” Gram said.

“They are next to the EMS hangar and test fly the thing every day before they leave. One of our pilots noticed that Morton Field is in a restricted no-fly area for drones. How did you pull that off?” Graham asked.

“The CIA had that done because of their hangar,” I replied. “They have shot one or two down for shits and giggles, just to see if they could,” I added.

“Do you want to be off by yourself over in the Jumbo hangar, or in one of several side hangars on our hangar that we are using as temporary storage?” Lorrie asked.

I knew the hangars she was talking about – the 407s and the Blackhawks were in them. Eventually they were going to be moved into one of the side hangars on the jumbo hangar when the dust cleared.

Lorrie said, “Let’s walk over and let you look at them,”

We were just standing to walk over when Carson knocked and came in. “BJ, we are on the four PM news cycle; the story is up next,” she said as she tuned the wall monitor to the station.

“CNXV News with a breaking story from Wyedox, Virginia. Multiple federal agencies, FBI, CIA, DHS, IRS and ATF are raiding the Black Water headquarters to close down Black Water Security as ordered by the Federal Courts. Black Water has been in bankruptcy since the botched security mission in Bagdad, Iraq killed dozens of unarmed civilians when a VIP they were escorting came under attack. All those agencies were involved because of the high level of security clearances and materials they may have had,”

“Black Water lost a series of court cases and was assessed huge payments to the victims and fines from the Iraq government for gross negligence.”

“Congress ordered all government contracts with Black Water Security canceled. JBG, Jones Business Groups of Queen Anne County Maryland was awarded the security contract for the State Department previously held by Black Water,”

“JBG supplies college security at eleven colleges with over 20,000 students, according to their website. JBG has been instrumental in stopping a terrorist attack at the Annapolis Hills Mall last summer and a lone wolf terrorist attack at Warrington College this Thanksgiving.”

“JBG also owns Jones Fitness and Training Center, Mid Atlantic Auto Rentals, Morton Field Aviation complex that offers crop dusting, a world-wide air charter and air freight business and other aviation services,”

“This is Hailey Fox from CVNX News Wyedox, Virginia.”

A clip of the contract signing at the State Department was shown with my short speech.

“Well, the world knows now for sure,” I said to Marcy and Lorrie.

As we were walking to show them the hangar, I took a call from Eric in German and Frank in Arabic.

The call from Amy was in English. “Yes, I am going to start visiting the embassies on Thursday. I will be leaving Wednesday night and returning Monday morning.”

“I will continue that schedule until I hit them all. An electronic version of the JBG employee hand books will be emailed to all tomorrow and hard copies sent to you to go in the courier deliveries. You will have them by noon. I plan on doing a VCATS with them starting tonight. Cindy is working out the schedule,” I replied.

The Blackhawks still had a lot brackets for various weapons still on them. I was waiting on a list to know what should be removed. I assumed all of them but we all know where assume will get you. The mechanics had removed all the military markings and they now sported JBG security logos.

We showed them both hangars, one was storing the Blackhawks and the other four of the 407s with the two 407s in pieces waiting for parts for Glen to install. When the lights went on in the first hangar with the Blackhawks I thought I was going to need a stun gun to bring them back to reality.

“Some machine guns and I could easily think I was back in the Marines again and 20 years old,” Duke replied.

Finally Graham said, “I don’t guess a little chopper noise is going to bother anyone around here after all,” as he was looking at the 407s in the second hangar.

Edit by Alfmeister
Proof read by Joe H.

The holiday passed faster than anyone wanted, me included I had my first scare with Jenny Sunday night. We were all rattled, she started having what we thought were labor pains. The girls were ready to call the ambulance to carry her to the hospital. But the cooler heads of Lisa and my Mom (Sandy) prevailed. It was an awakening and it caused me to reflect on the past. A little over two years ago I was in the military hospital under a physiatrist care. My life long friend and lover had just died in my arms days before. There was something haunting me from her dying words and our more than emotional connection. In the end I found out that she was also my half sister.

After returning home and trying to find my place I found Jenny. We were two women determined to be and make a family. The job I found at KCC fit me to a tee and it led to the completion of our unique loving family with Lorrie, Marcy Vicky and Ching Lee that were determined to succeed and make our place in the world.

After two anxious hours the pains ended and were said to be just false labor pains, much to everyone’s relief. It was still too soon by many guesses, however, Mother Nature has an agenda all her own and no matter what we have to live with it.

Monday was decision day to set the events in motion for the next two weeks after the January 1st holiday. After much debate the final solution to the M&M College first week for JBG security was to settled it was decided to send Mark, Jason and one clerk to Michigan. Roseanne, Ching Lee and one clerk would be sent to Minnesota and all would stay till the weekend unless things were running very smooth. With both colleges’ security staff positions filled, things should go smooth.

For me, next Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday, I would be at KCC overseeing that the second semester started smoothly. Thursday night I was flying out to begin my public relations sweep for the full takeover from Black Water fiasco.

I decided that I was going to try to renegotiate my working arrangement with KCC for the time being while I tried to rap my head around our newest business venture. I was going to visit embassies four days at a time until I had been to all of them.

Lorrie marked a G5LR and two pilots for the next two months – starting Wednesday evening until Sunday evening – to make it possible. One of the girls and Jason, Cindy or Mark was going to accompany me on those flights in the future. I decided to let them decide the order for that to happen.

When we called a break in the meeting our clerks met us with the pile of messages that came in while we were in the meeting. The rest of the girls headed to phones and I to the VCATS. The first video call was to Adam Cartwright in La Paz.

“BJ, NN730G looks really nice. I would like to have that one if it is possible. Have you looked at the defect list for the Blackhawk?” Adam Asked.

“I sent it to the mechanics this morning. I have a meeting later today with them. I should be able to tell you something late this afternoon. NN730G is yours. I will work on a schedule to make it happen,” I replied.

The last topic of discussion was to finish up this years Rape prevention seminars. Now that I would be gone most of the time due to the visiting embassies it was decided to put them off until after Jenny delivered.

An hour later I was on my way to Morton Field with Lorrie and Marcy. Jeanna was returning from Midwest Banking main offices at three and Marcy wanted to be there to welcome her home. She had been out there a week for high level end of the year meetings. She had missed Christmas and orgy night. I was sure that we were in for big news and heated fun later to make up for all the missed fun.

We stopped by the pilot’s office as Jake had requested in a text earlier. Tony was there as well as several J&J welding trucks. I knew I was in for a good natured ribbing about keeping Jake’s return a surprise and was prepared for it.

After the laughter and kidding was over Jake and Tony thought my idea about a safety release – in case anything went wrong in the vault – was a fantastic idea.

The blockwork and the steel plate would go all the way to the roof, and the roof was to be modified to be a weak spot over the vault. The steel plate in the vault ceiling would be modified (only partially welded on one half of it and the one foot of concrete sloped to 6 inches on the same side).

If there ever were an explosion in the vault, the partial welds on one side of the ceiling plus the reduced weight of the concrete where it was sloped would make the ceiling act as a hinged pressure release.

The force of the explosion would be vented out the ceiling and then out the modified hangar roof. It would damage the roof, actually it would blow it off on the hangar in the 32 x 32 foot area directly over the vault, but the vault would not become one massive bomb.

An order had already been placed for the additional steel and the blocks. The welding trucks were from the bridge building division of J&J group. They were massive continuous wire feed welders. The four welders were staying ahead of the block masons and that takes some doing with 12 inch blocks.

The fancy vault door was already welded in place to the steel plates on that end and the masons were filling the blocks with rebar and concrete as they went. The process they were using explained why the redi-mix concrete truck that was outside. It was one of those that mixed as little or as much as you needed on the spot.

As I turned to leave, Bob said, “Damn I love to work for you guys! I never know what kind of engineering feats I will be involved in next.”

“Is your passport up to date?” I asked as a joke, but just as serious as I could look.

“I don’t think I have one of those. Am I going to need one?” he replied.

“Working for us, one might never know what you will need,” I said.

Bob looked at Jake, “She is kidding, isn’t she?”

Jake just smiled, “You’re own your own there, Bob.”

Before I left I asked Jake about lighting and power to the door plus emergency backup along with controlled temperature with ventilation. “Already taken care of,” he replied.

I met Marcy and Lorrie in the main hangar. The mechanics had already unloaded the C130. I was surprised to see Glen there with them as they were reassembling the two choppers from Africa.

As soon as Glen finished he came to us, “Have you talked to Charlie today?” he asked.

“Just by email and text,” I replied.

“ So you know I am not happy working for Bell anymore. You have two certified Blackhawk techs. With the six 407s you bought and the six you are getting back, I think you might be in the market for a 407 certified tech.”

“I would like the opportunity to ask for that position. If the rest of the 407’s are in no worse condition than these you will have flying choppers for about a third of the cost. With my contacts I can get the parts direct from the rebuilders without Bells 200% markup. I will go anywhere you need a chopper repaired. I love the challenge.” Glen replied.

“Lorrie will get you an application to get you started and then we can discuss the financials and benefits,” I replied.

As we walked away to go to the terminal building Marcy asked, “What are we going to do with all these choppers?”

“Well, I don’t know, but I am sure we can find something to do with them. if worst comes to worse, we might be able to lease some of them back to State; maybe Jack will want to expand flight training into choppers. First thing is to find out the cost to repair them. Come to think of it, none of you girls have flown in a chopper that I know of – you may like it and want to keep a couple of them,” I replied. “You are rubbing off on all of us, first Lorrie started seeing dollar signs here with the airport, and now I am seeing them with choppers.”

“Sabrina has several notes for us to look at that we need to respond to guys,” Lorrie said as we made our way into the terminal offices.

Most of the notes were related to bid requests for commercial flights; several were new customers seeking to start commercial accounts for charter services. I told Sabrina all things airport related or accounts related needed to go directly to Lorrie and Marcy to handle them.

The one that I need to be involved with came from Duke Justice and Clarence Hallworthy, the county commissioners. The county brass had finally decided that the worst was behind them over the misuse of the federal airport grants. 2016 was an election year and it was time to move public opinion in a more positive direction.

In order to comply with the court orders and agreements, they had found a way to make the annual required payments back to the DHS that were then redirected to JGB Morton Field without raising taxes or cutting services. They did that by using the interest from the county’s Rainy Day Fund and adding several hundred thousand dollars from the general fund for the next ten years.

At the meeting we had for the emergency plan, the county EMS director has asked about cooperation with JBG in emergencies. Marcy and Lorrie had set the meeting for today at the office, but since the terminal building was operational it had been moved to the terminal offices to make the best use out of them. The meeting was to start in 30 minutes.

Edit by Alfmeister
Proof read by Joe H.

It was almost 2 AM when we slid under the covers in Marcy’s bed. Either Ching Lee or Jenny was snoring lightly as we snuck past their room so we wouldn’t awaken them. After the sexual workout and a hot shower, sleep came easily. I was snuggled tightly to Marcy’s back with my arms around her.

I heard giggling at the door as I opened my eyes to full sunlight coming through the window. The giggling woke both Marcy and me. Ching Lee, Lorrie, Vicky and Jenny started singing some kind wake up tune from an old radio show, before they broke up in laughter and more giggles.

“Wake up you two sleepy heads; that must have been some wild night you guys had without us last night. Breakfast is on the table. Hurry up or it is going to be cold,” Jenny said after plastering both of us with a kiss.

I was amazed that the rich coffee aroma had not awakened me, since that was what I used as a wakeup call every morning. A few minutes later, still in shorts and tee shirts, we were all at the table quietly eating. There were last minute things to do for tonight’s party. We were calling it a pre- Christmas package opening. At 5, family and friends were coming over under the cover of opening presents early.

What was really happening was a surprise baby shower for Jenny. Lisa was stopping by at 4 under the ruse of needing Jenny to help with last minute shopping and to load presents. Joey and Jason were going to be late to do a last minute shopping spree.

Because so many people were coming it was decided that that the best place for the baby shower was in the garage. Just like we did the summer parties in bad weather, it would be perfect for what we had planned. The tables and chairs were going to be set up while Jenny was gone with Lisa. To top off the room we were going to decorate in baby boy blue.

However this morning was another matter. All of us were going to Morton Field to park planes in the hangar. Those planes had returned last night after dark. Lorrie had told the Carson and Sabrina to have the pilots to park the planes on the tarmac in front of the terminal or the JBG hangars last night.

Even though we had great lighting, Lorrie had restricted planes being pushed into the hanger after dark by only one person. A three person team was the standing order, one on the tug and the other two watching the tail and wing tips. The slightest mishap could cost hundreds of thousands of dollars and put a plane out of commission for months or worse.

Jack had made all of us push and pull planes with the tug many times under his supervision and to the mechanics delight. I think they just wanted to see a comedy of errors. Much to their dismay, we learned very quickly. The instructor in him never quit.

It took us three hours to put all the planes away. Of course, we had to take a look at the terminal and speak to Carson and Sabrina while they were both there.

While Lorrie was in the terminal building she reviewed the flights scheduled for the planes for the next 30 days. There were a lot just for the scheduled customer flights. There were a few I need for the M&M colleges, it was to inspect our newest assets. But none of the flights for the embassy were added as of yet, and there were going to be a lot of them. That was a discussion I needed to have with Lorrie after Christmas, first thing Monday morning.

We went over and looked at the progress that was made yesterday on the armory by Bob’s Construction. There were plenty of concrete blocks stacked outside the building and one heck of a pile of plate steel in big sheets. It looked like the kind of stuff they made navy ships out of.

There was a hole cut through the pilots and mechanics lounge into the parts room, covered with several sheets of plywood. Jake insisted that Lorrie pick the spot to cut the hole between the two side Hangars. The hole was where the vault door was going to be.

I needed to talk to Jake about a modification that came to me in the middle of the night. When Jake, Betty and I were young Dad and Mom and the Smiths carried us on day trips to historic places on the Delmarva. One of those trips was a tour of the original E. I. DuPont black powder factory called the “Brandywine River Powder Mills”. The DuPont’s reportedly supplied black power for both sides in many wars and skirmishes including WW1. For some crazy reason in a dream the other night, one of the safety features he built in his operation came to mind about Jakes project. I was going to do a quick Google search to see if I could find a drawing of it when I talked to Jake.

Charlie called my cell to tell me they were leaving Bamako at 0500 their time, 0100 our time. It was the call I was waiting for. With no problems, they should be on the ground at Morton Field after lunch on Christmas day. I asked if he had verified the in-flight refueling stops with State and the DOD as I had not yet receives any confirming emails.

“Times and schedules confirmed,” he replied to my relief.

Lisa called and came two hours early with the excuse that she wanted Jenny to help her shop for an item to get Jason. The extra time worked out nice for us. We used it to decorate the garage for tonight’s shower. Marcy had one of the local caterers prepare a meal for the party.

I hoped everyone would show up – the meal was first class. The girls had invited men and women, a different tact for a baby shower. It was actually Jason’s idea.

The garage was so big that the men could have a men’s party of their own on one side while us ladies could have the baby shower on the other, with the food tables as a divider it had been Jason’s idea. We moved the big TV screens to the men’s side. Jason thinking a few steps ahead had recorded several fights, football games and hunting shows as entertainment for the boys. This would certainly be a different experience! I couldn’t wait to see how it turned out. I had never heard of it being done this way before.

The meal was first class the food was shrimp, pasta, meat balls, sliced turkey, sliced ham, potatoes, green beans with ham and of course pizza slices and salad for the ladies and deserts.

The guests unloaded the gifts and then parked their cars over at the gym’s parking lot so no evidence of the party could be seen from outside. The car lights on the garage door gave away when Lisa and Jenny returned. The surprise worked; the party was on and lasted three hours. It was wonderful more than I hoped for. The baby items were well thought out and the comments from the cards left many of the ladies eyes with tears. Even the men were with the wives and girlfriends watching the events unfold.

I was with Jenny helping move things around and sorting things, keeping cards with the items so proper thank you cards could be sent out. I needed to hide the occasional tear that would appear. Marcy was taking pictures for a picture book of the events. All the other girls were helping in one way or another.

By 6:30 we were finished and cleaning up. We let the guests split up the leftover food; it would come in handy tomorrow for a Christmas day snack. Everyone left quickly – after all, it was Christmas Eve and I was sure there were plenty of things to do latter on.

Dad, Mom, Jason, Jake and Mindy and Lisa helped with the final cleanup. They more or less stayed in the garage stacking of the chairs and tables while the girls and I carried all the baby gifts into the house.

Jake and Mindy were going to spend the first night in their new house. The couple that owned it sold everything but personal items with the house, so there really was little they needed to buy. There had been shopping trips to make it their home.

This was the second time that I had I had all my family together for Christmas. We were all happy with our nontraditional family, deeply in love with each other and the holiday always brought it out and reinforced it even more.

We had two more days to enjoy the spirit and then we would be busy beyond belief.

At two during Christmas afternoon, the agency guys manning the tower called to tell me that the C130 was twenty minutes out. Lorrie and I rode to the airport to welcome the men home.

One of the first things the pilots did after hellos was to give Lorrie back the emergency travel money bags with the receipts for Marcy. No one wanted to take the chance that one would be lost or stolen.

Glen was going to spend the night in the Horsey house. He was then going to decide what he wanted to do until he needed to be back to work after the New Year.

Charlie had sent me a text that Glen had been pumping the crew as to what kind of people we were to work for. He made it quite clear that he was not happy working for Bell with the multiple tier management system and all the cost cutting shenanigans that Bell did every business quarter. With six Bell 407s and the possibility of rebuilding some of those six which were coming back, a Bell specialist might be a plus for JGB.

Edit by Alfmeister
Proof read by Joe H.

It was hard to believe but tomorrow is Christmas Eve day and most operations were at reduced levels. All 10 of the colleges were on Christmas and New Years break. Their security departments were still working but at a much more relaxed pace. The offices were closed as was most of the airport. Lorrie did have several flights to Florida tomorrow with both Bombardiers.

Because Carson and Sabrina both lived close and had agreed to each work half a day to keep the terminal building open during the day to handle the passengers leaving and or returning. We had decided in our meeting that both planes were being left on the tarmac in front of the terminal.

Lorrie had scheduled half dozen or so flights that were returning tonight and the planes were going to be left on the tarmac in front of the hangar. Carson was going to work the second half of the day. We did not want her staying any longer than necessary the girls and I were going to park them away with the tug tomorrow afternoon.

All of us girls had watched and guided the guys pushing planes into the hangar. Jack and Robbie always put us girls on the tug and supervised us pushing planes around, “Just because you are the bosses, that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be able to do the things everyone else can do. There may be times that you have to,” Jack had said more than once.

I had nine hours to kill before Charlie was to make his call at midnight. So I worked in the office for three hours and then we had a normal meeting. This would be the last meeting until day after Christmas, unless there was something important that that we had to deal with.

The flight details were discussed, including my desire to be up to take Charlie’s call at midnight. It would give me some time to finish wrapping the last few Christmas gifts over at the office.

The flight had gone as we thought it would and the C130 should be back the day after Christmas without problems. Two of the six choppers would be in place and mechanics would have the two brought back to evaluate. Then there was the problem of getting the Blackhawk to South America next week in between the scheduled agency flights.

Supper was a joyous occasion; Jake and Mindy bought the house at the end of Summers Road. The family came back to the house to give us the happy news. It called for an impromptu supper. Pizza it was – six large – along with several orders of cheesy bread sticks made the order. We had plenty of beer here.

The pizza, beer and family time consumed two hours. When Jake and Mindy moved to Japan they gave away most of their furniture and household goods. In a way I felt bad that Jake had sold me his house but that is how fate works out. If I had not bought it someone else would have.

To make things right furniture shopping was going to happen after Christmas and there were no shortage of volunteers to help them set up a household.

Jake was planning on the reactor contract lasting 5 years, a couple more years for monitoring and then retiring. Now two and a half years later that plan fell apart.

I was relieved that he was coming home; spending that long with the radiation still leaking could not be good on the body no matter what the so-called experts said. I knew that Mom and Dad were excited to have all the family near them again.

At 11 Marcy and I went back over to the office with everyone else going to bed. Tonight was the night I slept with Marcy. Instead of waiting alone she was going to spend time with me in my office waiting for the call from Charlie. To our surprise there were still people in the gym working out, even though tomorrow was Christmas Eve.

All the offices had big well padded very comfortable chairs – mine included, even though I was gone most of the time. Those chairs were made for three hundred pound executives to sit in all day long.

After I sat back into the chair Marcy slid into my lap. With my arm around her I began showing her how the VCATS system worked. Together we looked over the list of countries marked by an asterisk. The asterisk indicated they were online and ready for use, but not active at the moment. Then I showed Marcy how Cindy’s file put the names and places together with photographs of the people at each of the embassy sites.

I should have expected it; there were a lot of places active on VCATS around the world where it was daytime. Many of those places were now part of our security group.

In addition to the Mali and Sudan embassies in southern Africa I had people in Zanzibar Tanzania, Harare Zimbabwe, Luanda Angola, Windhoek Namibia, Morondava Madagascar, and Pretoria South Africa.

In the Middle East and Asia it was Riyadh Saudi Arabia, Karachi Pakistan, Mumbai India, Chiang Mai Thailand, Phnom Penh Cambodia, Hanoi North Vietnam, Manila Philippines, Seoul South Korea, Papua New Guinea, Canberra Australia and there were many more. All of the South America VCATS were shown as inactive; I guessed because it was near midnight.

I almost dumped Marcy out of my lap when the chime sounded indicating that someone on VCATS wanted to open a chat with us. It was the South Korean embassy – it was noon time there. I hit the key to activate the chat and clicked on the Korean embassy employee list while Marcy was still in my lap but off to the side in the big chair.

‘Hi boss, oops, that should be bosses,” the person we were looking at said.

The list indicated that I was chatting with Maurice Adams, the senior JBG employee there,

“Hi Maurice, how is the weather on the DMZ today?” I asked then added, “The last time I was there it was nasty.”

“You have been to the DMZ?” he replied with a surprised tone in his voice.

“Oh yes, I walked that beat for two years as punishment. It took a war in the sand to get me out of there,” I replied.

“Damn, you must have pissed somebody off big time,” he replied.

“You could say that, I killed the wife of a Japanese attaché in self defense after an embassy party got out of hand,” I replied.

“Ouch, that would do it,” he replied.

“What can I do for you?” I asked.

“I was surprised to see your site active because of the time and we did not expect you to be online until the official takeover. Are you going to come visit us sometime soon? We heard that was a possibility,” he replied.

“We have started taking over already. Black Water has thrown in the towel on just about everything. I am expecting State to completely cut them out of the picture in the next few days. We will have title to all the vehicles and choppers in a day or two,” I replied then added, “Our cargo plane is delivering new choppers to Mali and Sudan, the pilots are to report in at midnight, which is why we are here this late.”

“Damn, what about our paychecks and pay rate?” he asked.

“Nothing changes; the terms of your employment will be the same. You will get a letter as soon as State cuts Black Water loose – we already have all the banking information. Once we sort out the benefits package and compare them, you may gain a few things. By the way, I am Marcy De Stone Jones, executive V.P and CFO,” she replied as she playfully elbowed me.

“To answer your other question – yes there will be visits and video conferences and you will get our employee handbook,” I replied.

VCATS signaled again and I signed off the link to Korea and signed on to the Khartoum embassy link. Bernie Furnell was back online himself with Charlie standing there next to him.

Bernie started talking first, “I just took a ride in the chopper; it’s much better than the broken one ever was. The pilot and I are both very happy, Thank You for making this happen so quickly!”

“I’m glad you like it. Any time we can help with part of our contract obligations, just let us know,” I replied.

“Glen and the mechanics are loading the old chopper as we speak. They should be completed by the time I get back. Without problems, we should be back to Bamako in time to load that one there. We will stay overnight and leave in the morning. I have already scheduled the refueling; it’s going to take two. We will be fighting winds all the way back. We may have to stop in the Carolinas to get more to make it home,” Charlie said.

“Call me on my cell tomorrow with an update,” I replied. “Be mindful of the time here if you would, please.”

I killed the screen and clicked everything off then turned my full attention to Marcy. She had been close to the desk and out of view of the cameras, that imp had been teasing me aggressively trying to make me cum while we were on the call. There were times she was a closet voyeur.

I picked her out of the chair and lifted her so I could put my hands under her ass. She understood what I was trying to do and locked her legs around my waist. With my hands free I held her to my lips and a passion filled kiss was on until we both needed to breath. I eased us down to the floor. This game of hers was not going to wait until we were back to the house. The thick carpet was as soft as any bed. Within minutes we were both lost in the pleasure of love making .

Edit by Alfmeister
Proof read by Joe H.