THE RETURN OF RICHARD CASTLE

THE RETURN OF RICHARD CASTLE While Richard Castle, and Kate Beckett, were absorbed with raising their new family, neither knew what was about to befall them. Back, in New York City, a crime would be reported to the 12h Precinct, whose latest captain was no fan, of anyone "tampering" with police work. (Not even if the tampering lead to resolving the case) The crime, being reported, was that a courier had delivered a package, to a businessman, with a postmark of nothing more than the Hamptons. Had it not been for Ryan, and Esposito, intercepting the case, everyone, in the 12th knew that the new commander would have made the case public. This, because the latest commander was "gunning" for a "shot", at becoming the next, police, commissioner. What puzzled the detectives, and caused them to call on Castle and Beckett, was the nature, and time-frame, of the crime. As the duo e-mailled the couple, "The enclosed photo's were, in fact, taken, at the suspects home. The question is "WHEN?" The moment, when Beckett saw the photo's, she knew, immediately, that the photo's were from the days before digital photography. When Beckett phoned Esposito, asking how soon she could have an interview, with the suspect, all Esposito could say was "Working on it." When Beckett would ask "What do you mean "Working on it?" Esposito would say "It seems our boy had to fly, for an appointment. No phones allowed, in flight." When Beckett would ask "Does he even NOW that we want to speak to him?" Esposito would say "I doubt it. We could no reach him, before take off." Beckett would suggest "Have plain clothes meet him at the airport. Tell then NOT to draw attention." Esposito would say "On it." When Castle took a look at the photo's, and said "Whoa!" Beckett would say "Down boy. These are evidence." Castle would ask "Evidence of WHAT? Out of date photography?" Then add "I haven't seen pictures, like this, since the late 80's" Beckett would suggest "Maybe our suspect can tell us more." When Castle would ask "Who is the suspect?" Beckett would say "Jay Randolf Hoovey. Property developer." Castle would ask "You are joking, right? Jay Hoovey?" When Beckett would say "Yea, why? Do you know him?" Castle would say "Know him? He wanted me to trade in this place, for something which he said was more ME." When Beckett would ask "More YOU? What does that even mean?" Castle would say "No idea. I told him that I LOVED this place. After that, we never mentioned it, again. Not even over drinks." Beckett would ask "You have DRINKS with a multi-millionaire property developer?" Castle would ask "Why not? I play poker with other, rich, authors." Beckett would shake her head, as she wondered "Why did I marry him?" Later, back in New York, Beckett, and Castle, would finally, meet up with Jay Hoovey. (This, via a private phone call, between Castle, and Hoovey). As Hoovey would say "As soon as I learned who was in charge of the case, I rushed right back to town." Beckett would ask "You rushed back to town, to see Richard Castle?" Jay Hoovey would say "No. I rushed back to see how soon Nikki Heat could solve this case. I wanted to make sure you were in charge of the case." Beckett would remind Mr. Hoovey "My name, my REAL name, by the way, is Kate Beckett. NIkki Heat is..." and Mr. Hoovey would say "I know. Nikki is a fictional character, based upon you. Now, if you are half as good as Rick has written you, I want you on this case." When Beckett would ask "Why?" Jay would say "I want to know WHO and HOW, my house, in the Hamptons was accessed, without my knowing about it." When Beckett would ask "So, you claim to know nothing about these photos. Nude photo's, of a MINOR. Do you understand?" Jay would say "Of course, that is why I want the BEST on his case. I want these people brought to justice." This is when a P.I., named Scarrit, would enter the office, saying "It would seem, Mr. Hoovey, that you are not the only one looking for this answer." When Beckett would ask "What do you mean?" Mr. Scarrit would say "Mr. Hoovey's security is MY responsibility. If someone entered his home, I WANT to know." Mr. Scarrit would, then, turn to Mr. Hoovey, saying "The lab just finished going over the pictures. They are as phony as a four dollar bill." When Beckett would ask "How do you know that?" Mr. Scarrit would turn the pictures, over and show what no one, including Mr. Hoovey, had thought to look for. The digital "foot-print", which every photo makes, based upon manufacturers production codes. Mr. Scarrit would say "Sir, it appears that someone took these photo's, recently. They, then, had them "doctored" to look old." When Beckett would ask "What about the teenage girl, in the photo? Who is she?" Scarrit would say "Still working on that." By the time Beckett was ready to ask Mr. Hoovey would say "I invite the police to verify all of this. Especially if it tells me the WHO, and WHY." Beckett would say "We will do our best." Ouside the business, on the street, Beckett would phone Ryan, since Esposito was out, on assignment, saying "I have the photo's. The originals. When I bring them in, I want tech to wash them. Anything that will give us a clue." Ryan would say "On it." After the call, Castle would ask "What I dont get is both the attempted extortion, and a fake photo, of a teen. Why to Jay? All the man does is develop property." Beckett would say "Who knows. Maybe someone felt they got a bad land deal." At the station, Esposito would take the photo's to the lab, While Beckett would no-sooner ask Ryan "Run phones and..." and Ryan would say "Already on it." A short time later, the news came, like a waterfall. Esposito would say "The lab verified that the pictures are fakes. They were shot two weeks ago." When Beckett would ask "How do they look so old?" Esposito would say "Electronic effects camera. Maybe 100 just in New York. The lab says they are big business, for people who want what appear to be collectable photos." Ryan would follow this up with "School records identify our "picture girl" as a Sophmore in public school 215." When Beckett would suggest "Ryan, why dont you..." and Ryan would continue "The school says the girl has not been to class, in nearly three weeks. They are about to send a truant officer, since the girl is under sixteen." Beckett would suggest "Call the school. Tell them that the N.Y.P.D. will do the home visit. I want to talk to this girl." Castle would say "So would I." When Beckett would say "Police business, Castle." Castle would say "I meant that I want to know her REASON, for the photo's." Not surprising, when the police arrived, at the home address, the landlord would say "They moved out. I dont know when. All I know is that, when the rent was due, and not paid, I used my key, on the unit, and found it empty." This is when Beckett would suggest "Lets try the school. See if anyone knows anything." At P.S. 215, all the police heard was "She's missing? Where is she?" Beckett would say "We were hoping that you could tell us." A check, with Admissions, turned up only a cell-phone number. Not surprising, when Beckett put the call on speaker, the automated voice would say "The number you are trying to reach is out of service." Beckett would say "No surprise there." When Espo would ask "Beckett, Apartment cleared out, not at school, and dis-connected phone? Does it sound like someone is "on the run?" Beckett would say "Sounds like it. But, WHO is running, and from WHO?" Back at the station, Ryan had nothing but bad news. "I checked on the family's financials, once I knew who she was. Not much of anything to go on. No bank accounts. Pre-paid cell-phones, debit cards, not even drivers licenses. Its like these people dont want anyone to know they exist." This is when Castle would ask "If they dont want anyone to know, then WHY try to blackmail a multi-millionaire businessman?" When Beckett looked at the envelope, again, she realized "The only return address is "The Hamptons". How would they expect to be paid, without contact information?" This is when Esposito would come into the room, saying "You have GOT to see this." When Espo pulled up the video, on his computer, it appearred to show the businessman, having sex, with the minor. When Espo would add "It was just posted one hour ago." When Beckett would ask "Do we know where Mr. Hoovey is, at the moment?" This is when Mr. Scarrit would enter the room, saying "That video is fake, as well." When Beckett would ask "How do you know this?" Mr. Scarrit would say "Mr. Hoovey has been in a business investment meeting, for the past three hours." When Beckett would say "So, he does not even know about this video?" Mr. Scarrit would say "I wanted to make sure that the police had it controlled, before telling my employer." Beckett would suggest "Mind if I come along?" Mr. Scarrit would say "Fine by me. I just dont know how Mr. Hoovey is going to react." In a borrowed, side, office, as Beckett watched the shocked look, on Mr. Hooveys face, and the way he sloutched, in his chair, the detective could tell that the man was, clearly, surprised. When he recovered his voice, he asked "How? I have been HERE, all morning. My investors can vouch for that." Beckett would say "Sir, we checked those photo's. They were made just two weeks ago. At the Hamptons, inside your house." When Mr., Hoovey would ask "You dont really think that I did this, do you?" Beckett would say "I have to ask. If not you, who else has access to your Hamptons house?" When Mr. Scarrit would ask "What about the girl. The child? Have you found her?" Beckett would say "Sir, it will sound as suspicious as it is, but the home address has been cleared out, the girl has not been to school, in weeks, and the parents phone is dis-connected." Mr. Hoovey would be the one to say "It sounds like they are covering their tracks, very well, right Rick?" Beckett would ask "WHO is "they", and WHAT are they trying to hide?" Rick would try to comfort his friend, whispering "Come on, Jay. Cant you think of anyone?" Mr. Hoovey would say "I buy, develop, and sell, real estate. Who would be un-happy with that?" Beckett would ask "Have you, ever, had any land deals, that went bad? Owners, who would not sell. Buyers, who would stop at nothing, to acquire land?" Mr. Hoovey would say "Detective Beckett, this is NOT a novel, or movie. In the real world, we do not kill, for property. If an owner will not sell, then we move on." When Beckett would ask "Did you have any deals, where people felt cheated?" When Mr. Hoovey would ask "Cheated? How?" Beckett would suggest "Maybe, someone did not want to sell. Maybe they were determined to protect what they thought was theirs?" Mr. Hoovey would say "Detective. I develop COMMERCIAL real estate. Places, where businesses are built. I dont deal with private property." When Castle would alter the discusion, asking "Jay, tell us where you were, two weeks ago, and between the times that Detective Beckett will list." After Beckett read off the list, Mr. Hoovey would say "Impossible. When I left home, on those dates, I set the alarm. No one could have entered, without the dis-arm code." When Beckett would ask "How many people know your code?" Mr. Scarrit would say "Fifteen people. All fully vetted. No one gets the access codes, without passing a background search." When Castle looked at Mr. Hoovey, the man would say "Scarrit is correct. We dont just hand over our codes." This is when Beckett would ask "Then HOW did the blackmailers enter your home?" Both Hoovey, and Scarrit, would, jointly, say "I wish I knew." Back at the police station, it would be the video control officer, who would figure out the fake video. "When you just look at the video, it is fine. It is only when you look, closely, that you can see what the blackmailers dont want you to see." On extreme zoom, it was clear that a man, and a girl, were having sex. The problem was that the effects operator made a rookie mistake. They forgot to "clean up the edges". On extreme zoom, it was clear that Mr. Hoovey's face was photoshopped onto the mans body. The girl, from the photo, was "shopped", as well. When Beckett would ask "Can we trace the original address, from the video?" The operator said "Already tried. This video is old enough, and was routed through so many i.p. addresses, that it will take months to find the original address." When Castle would suggest "It must have taken a long time, to make such a trip." The officer would say "In human time, it would take just thirty minutes." Castle would say "Whoa. That fast." The officer would say "Computers may be faster, at processing data, but humans still hold the title, for deductive reasoning." What no one could figure out was why there was evidence, being presented, yet no demands being made. WHAT were the blackmailers after? When the N.Y.P.D. checked the family, for criminal records, all they came up with was zero. No one, in the family, had anything more dangerous than "jaywalking". Employers came up, empty as well. All employers would say was "I replaced them after they did not show up, for two days, in a row." When Beckett would ask each employer "Was it common, for the worker to do this?" The employers, both, said "That is whats odd. They were solid people. Dependable, trustworthy. References checked out." When Beckett asked for a copy of the references, the employers handed it over. Just six hours later, while Beckett was trying to figure out how a family could just vacate a place, without anyone anyone seeing, or hearing, Esposito had more, bad, news for Beckett. "Just checked that list, of references, and no one remembers any calls. In fact, two calls had people asking ME why I was calling them." When Beckett would say "Lets check local, moving, services. FInd out WHO they rented the truck from." Ryan would say "Dont bother. While checking on the parents information, I checked on possible, truck, rentals. No recent rentals". When Beckett would suggest "What about..." Ryan would say "Checked for stolen trucks as well. Nothing." Castle would be the one to say "These people are, really, trying to hide their tracks. I wonder, from whom?" Beckett would suggest "Who knows. Could be debt collectors. Loan companies, un-balanced relatives." Castle would ask "If they are scared enough to go "on the run", then why not go to the police." Esposito would suggest "Unless they are afraid to go to the police. Maybe their mystery pursuer has connections." Beckett would suggest "Maybe, they think that the pursuer is someone the law cannot touch. Too big to fail? Something like that." Beckett knew that something was "off", but she just could not put her finger on it. Not until Ryan mentioned "If someone got the alarm codes, to enter the house, I have to wonder what that person is hiding." This is when Beckett would realize "Maybe, we have been searching in the wrong place. We have been looking OUTSIDE Mr. Hoovey's circle. What do we know about his "inner circle"? The people, closest to him?" Espo would, no-sooner say "According to Mr. Scarritt, everyone has been vetted, by Scarritt's staff." This is when Beckett would ask "What do we know about this Scarritt?" Ryan would say "Security consultant. Works with high profile clients." When Beckett would ask "Is that ALL we know, about him?" Espo would say "What else is there, too know?" When Castle saw Beckett's look, Castle would say "Dont tell me you..." and Beckett would ask "Why not? As security chief, he would have access to everything from property, to personnel.. He, himself, told us that he vetted everyone." Castle would say "Sure, for his BOSS." When Ryan would ask "Even if Scarritt DID create the pictures, and video, WHERE did he FIND the girl?" When Castle would ask "The want ads?" Espo would remind Castle "Bro, you DO know that it is illegal, even for underground sources, to offer children, as "sex toys". No, if anyone found a girl, for Scarritt, it would have to be for cash money. Someone who needed cash, badly enough, that they would be desperate enough to let their daughter do this." Beckett would add "Maybe not just desperate, for the cash, but what IF the person had something, ON the family. Even if it was forged. Maybe the blackmailer has what they THINK will land their victims, in jail." Castle would ask "HOW could a forgery be made to look real enough, to fool a court?" This is when Beckett said "Remember that video? The tech said the video was amateurish. What if it wasn't. What if it was just filmed, to appear amatuerish?" Esposito would say "Thats a whole lot of if's." Beckett would ask Ryan "Have you checked on that effects camera, yet?" Ryan would say "Still canvassing. No one remembers their camera being either borrowed, or even stolen, then returned." Esposito would add "Remember, Beckett, there are over 100 camera's, just in New York. That only helps IF the pictures, and video, were made IN New York." When Castle would ask "Where else could they have been made?" Ryan would say "Dude, with the internet, and every bit of data, available, at a price. That stuff could have been created anywhere between Alaska, and Uganda." This is when Beckett would make a discovery. She would call the photo lab, and have the pictures turned over to "computer enhancement", for analysis. When Espo would ask "Beckett, whats up?" Beckett would say "We have been assuming that, because the girl was filmed on what LOOKS like Mr. Hoovey's bed, that the picture was taken inside Mr. Hoovey's house." When Espo would ask "What about it?" Beckett would ask "Lets review ALL of the photos." Sure enough, once digital enhancement was finished, Beckett would ask "What is missing?" When Castle, Ryan, and Espo, came up "empty", Beckett would say "There are no, exterior" references. All you see is a bed, and a nude girl." When Espo would say "I dont get it?" Castle would say "Of course. If you are going to blackmail a person, you take exterior shots. This way, you can suggest "No way can you deny this is your place." Beckett would say "Precisely. The way these pictures are modelled, to emphasize the girl, no one would think to look at the background." When Ryan would ask "So, what do we do? Ask the internet to identify one of its members? Do you think that they would, even if the blackmailer is in a non-extradition country?" That was the problem. In order to find the blackmailer, the N.Y.P.D. had to find the victims, and encourage them to come forward. Only then could the real blackmailer be prosecuted. Without the girl, and her family, the case was nowhere. This is when Castle would chime in with "If I were writing this story, I would contact the mayor, and have him contract the governor, so that Nikki Heat could visit the Hamptons, and interview Mr. Hoovey's neighbors. Maybe find out if any of them saw anyone around Mr. Hoovey's house." Beckett would, no-sooner, say "Well, Castle. This is NOT one of your books. This is real life. We dont "get around the law", we uphold it." When Esposito, and Ryan, would ask "Beckett, what would be the harm in just asking?" Before Beckett could answer, about jurisdiction, Castle would excuse himself, and make a call. He would, then, set his watch timer, for fifteen minutes, then re-join the detectives. In fact, it would be just three minutes after Beckett had been called into the new captains office, to be reminded of procedure, that the captains phone would ring. After a short conversation, the captain would call out "MISTER Castle. Beckett, inside, NOW!" With the door to the office closed, the captain would tell the duo "Mr. Castle. I knew you enjoyed meddling in our cases, but this is your last time. Once you finish this case, with my detectives, you are OUT of this precinct, permanently. Understand?" Castle would say "Understood." This is when the captain would re-open the office dor, and call out "Ryan, Esposito. Since you seem to enjoy "tagging along", on such cases, I am assigning all THREE of you to duty with the Hamptons police. Now, let me be clear. Either you bring in the blackmailer, for prosecution, or you hand in your badges. Am I clear?" Ryan and Esposito would say "Clear as glass, sir." Outside the police station, Beckett would pull her "patented" ear-tugging, of Castle, while asking "WHAT did you do, in there?" Castle would say "I made a call." Beckett would ask, sternly, "WHO did you call?" When Castle would say "A friend", Beckett would grab the ear, again, demanding "WHO?" Castle would say "Okay, okay. I called Jay, and asked him to call the mayor." When Beckett would ask "AND?" Castle would say "I might have suggested that the mayor call the governor. "I might have suggested that the N.Y.P.D. could assist the Hamptons police." Beckett would assert "We do NOT "assist" other departments. We, each, have our "chain of command."" When Ryan and Espo would ask "So long as we have the invite, what could it hurt to check in. Just give the locals a bit of help." Beckett would say "Fine, since a minor is involved, and the minor MIGHT be in danger, we will give the Hamptons all the AID that we can." After the detectives turned in their "economy class" air tickets, for the first class tickets, provided by Richard Castle, then flew into the Hamptons, Beckett and Castle would go over the "crime scene", again, even as Ryan and Espo, would spend several hours, canvassing the area. When Ryan, and Esposito would return to Mr. Hoovey's home, all they could report, to Beckett, was "The ONLY person anyone has seen, in the area, who does not LIVE here, is Mr. Scaritt. It seems he has been in this area more than a few times." When Beckett would mention "He IS a security consultant. You would expect him to keep watch." Ryan and Espo, would ask "While his client is in the city?" Beckett would suggest "Maybe he was just double-checking." Espo would say "Heres the thing. When neighbors saw the man going over the property, he seemed shocked. The neighbors said that, each time, Mr. Scaritt was seen, he seemed shocked to be seen." Castle would ask "Why would a man, hired to run secuirty be afraid of being seen?" Beckett would suggest "Maybe for the same reason that the photo's were sent to Mr. Hoovey. Maybe, Scaritt wanted the credit, for the capture." Castle would come up with "Maybe, he was checking to make sure the alarm codes were in place, to allow the illegal photo's to be taken. I mean, how better to get bigger bonuses, from your boss, than to create a crime, then solve it." When Beckett would say "Real world, Castle." Ryan and Espo, would ask "Beckett, WHAT would be so far fetched about an employee, or contractor, getting close to a boss, then doing what Castle just said. Create a crime, to solve it?" When Beckett would ask "Then WHY call in the N.Y.P.D.?" Castle would say "Come to think of it, Jay did tell us that it was HIS decision, to call in Nikki Heat. Not Scaritt's." Beckett would ask "If the consultant wanted more money, why not just CHARGE the client more?" Ryan would suggest "SImple. Even I know that there are more than a few private security firms, in New York." Beckett would indulge the men, saying "Fine. Lets do a deeper background, on Scaritt. FInd out what he was doing here, without his client. IF Scaritt is our man, he will know enough to cover his tracks..." and Castle would say "expertly". Twenty-four hours later, the "veil" began to part, only in an un-expected way. While the detectives were on-location, just on the off-chance, that the real blackmailler DID return, even Beckett got an earful, as Scaritt brought the missing girl back to Mr. Scaritt's home. What caught Beckett's attention was the girl asking "My parents will be safe. You promise." Scaritt would say "As long as you do what I tell you. Mommy and Daddy will be safe." Beckett could only think that the girl knew that someone was listening, since the girl asked "What did you say you would do?" Scaritt would say "I told you, once. If you dont do as I say, you will return home to find their heads full of bullet holes. My men have orders not to stop shooting until they are sure." While Castle would whisper "I have heard enough." Beckett, Ryan, and Espo, would say "Let them get inside. We want all the evidence that we can get." Even as Scaritt was setting the bedroom scene, for new photo's, Beckett, Ryan, and Esposito, would take positions, giving them a clear line of sight. When the scene was set up, Scaritt called, to the girl, saying "Hurry up. I want these pictures on Hoovey's desk, before morning." When the girl, dressed, now, in a see-through baby-doll, would enter the room, saying "I'm ready." Beckett would come forth, followed by the others, saying "Wait a moment. So are we." When Scaritt would say "Detectives. You have no jurisdiction, here." Detective Beckett would produce the governors authorization, for state-wide cooperation. When Mr. Scaritt would try to "make a break", Ryan and Espo, would block his attempt. Scaritt would, then, play his "trump card", saying "If my guys dont hear from me, by 3 a.m., they have orders." This, even as Castle would wrap the girl in a blanket, until she could dress. The only question left was that of where the girls parents were. All the girl could tell the detectives was "The trip, here, is, never, long." With a call, from Castle, the governor would order both recon, and attack, helicopters, to the area. The cover story would be "Training mission". Thanks to Lockheed-Martin, the mercenaries did not even hear the silenced rotor blades, of the helicopters, until the beach-front house was flooded with light, and the mercenaries were blinded. Not a shot was fired, and army medics examined the parents, announcing "A bit mal-nourished, but fine." Before sun-rise, the coast guard would intercept the get-a-way boat, as it cruised, just off-shore. The big "give-a-way", was the lack of running lights. From what Beckett, and the guys, could piece together, it seems that Scaritt was not only a security expert, but a blackmail expert, as well. The man earned the bulk, of his income, by researching company employee's (under the excuse of background checks). Scaritt found the workers, who needed money, in a bad way. He paid off the bills, then blackmailed the workers, claiming that he could provide Child Welfare with "evidence", showing that parents encouraged child porn. Since Scaritt knew about photography, this is how he made his blackmail photo's. Families could not go to police since Child Welfare would, never believe that evidence was "manufactured." All that families could do was whatever Scaritt told them to do. What would enrage the new captain was how well, as in silently, the case had been resolved. It seems that the captain had been hoping, for something more dramatic. Something, which would allow the captain to "encourage" Mr. Hoovey to "make a contribution", to further the captains career. As the case stood, the girl would return to school, her parents, to work, and Mr. Hoovey would be cleared of any wrong-doing. Mr. Scaritt would be spending MANY years in state custody. Now, all that Castle and Beckett would have, to return to, is their home, and their "family". Another Nikki Heat novel would be in bookstores, soon.

AMBROSIA DIANA

Diane KNEW why she was in bed, with me, that night. Diane was adamant that RACE had NOTHING to do with it. Diane wanted to find out why, after a night, with me, that Ambrosia never said a word, about the night. In fact, when friends asked, all Ambrosia did was smile. Diane wanted to know why. Diane was curious about the myths she had been hearing, about me. Was I REALLY not into booze, drugs, and gambling? Did I, REALLY, pay my bills, first? After Diane saw how Ambrosia smiled, after, and around, me, Diane decided to do her own "detective work", on me. IF Diane let ME into her bed, she wanted to make SURE that I was who, and what, I said I was. Paying a hacker-friend $100.00 (That she had, un-expectedly won, from a lottery ticket), Diane got the "run down" on me. The reason, for this, was simple. Diane had known plenty of men, since high school. All of the men had told Diane of heir "dreams". It was only AFTER she began dating the men, that she watched as they "worked towards goals", via gambling their paychecks away. This is how Diane became a regular, at social service lines. She was, constantly, asking for assistance, for her mens bills. Then, there was the food stamp subject. The men made a habit of buying cart-loads, of food, then SELLING these, for gambling money. The men then sent Diane out, to food pantries, for hand-outs. Diane had spent many a morning, standing in line, for food. Diane was just considering how LONG her boyfriends landlord would let the man get by, on "promises" to pay back due rent. How long before his latest land lord kicked him out? As her hacker-friend told Diane "Man, this guy is weird. Only lived in three places, over thirty YEARS! Only goes to food pantries, maybe once per year. Been with one phone company, for YEARS." When Diane asked "Okay, so he has a paid cell-phone. Pre-paid, I will bet." The hacker would say "You would LOSE. Says, here, that the man has land line service, as well as pre-paid cell service." Now, Diane was beginning to understand why Ambrosia smiled at me. I had no history, of payday loans, drugs, booze, or gambling. After receiving this information, Diane went about deciding HOW to encourage me to ask HER out. That is, until another friend suggested "If you want to get into his pants, girl, why dont you ask HIM out?" Diane was not about to go up to a man, saying "Why not come over to my place, and fuck the living shit out of me." No, according to Ambrosia, the best way to get me into bed was to be polite, and "just a touch" suggestive. This is why Diane found her "in", during a conversation, about sex. While her friends were trying to draw me into conversations, about sucking cock, and titty sucking, Diane seemed to enjoy helping with talk of kissing, carressing, and so on. It was when her friends mentioned "fucking the shit out" of a woman, doggy-style, that Diane asked if we could talk. When we were away from the group, I mentioned "I just cannot believe that Ambrosia could be so disgusting. I mean, when we were..." then remembered who I was speaking to "... making love, she was so gentle, compassionate, and tender." Diane would whisper "Baby, this is the way that women speak, in private. In public, we are just like men, so men will KNOW that we are not whores." While I dont remember much of he following conversation, other than that, of the goals that I was, both, working on, and planning for, that we began snuggling, then kissing. When I began lifting her top, Diane whispered "Not here. AT my place." On the walk, to her place, Diane noticed how we snuggled, yet I never mentioned being a millionairre. Behind her locked door, I discussed my part, in causing the renewal, of shopping, to the north end. Yes, the north end would have another chain, discount, store, taking the place of the former grocery store. Like I told Diane, all myself, and my alderman, needed to do was show corporations that there was, indeed, a large enough consumer base, to keep a store operating. I left it to my alderman to explain that the previous store had closed, simply because management was "consolidating its base", around its "core operations". When Diane asked if I were, also, behind the new laundry, which was, soon, to open, I admitted that I was. Using the same kind of poll data, my alderman and I, were converting an un-sold property, into a laundromat. When Diane asked, I told her "Target date, for opening, is about a month from now." While we, briefly, discussed the state-hood subject, Dianes biggest concern seemed to be my project, for encouraging bicycle riders, to place electronic trackers on bicycles. I cautioned Diane not to get her hopes up, too much, since our deputy mayor had, almost, "freaked out", when I mentioned expanding the monitoring program from just city-owned bicycles, to every bike in the city. I snuggled up to Diane, and her beautiful, ebony, body, while whispering "I would say that the United States will have 75 states, before the bicycle tracking goes into effect." Soon after this, our clothes found her floor, then we walked, arm-in-arm, to her bed. It was in her bedroom that Diane found out why Ambrosia smiled at me. For a white man, Diane found that I had the most beautiful shaft she had, ever seen. Maybe I was no "KIng Dong", but, on the plus side, I was treating her with love, and respect. Diane LOVED the way I seduced her. Not just "shoving it in", but seducing her, until she was aroused, more than she had been, in years. Between my french kissing, and necking, Diane was certain that she was coming close to being in Heaven. When I carressed, kissed, and nursed, her breasts, she was certain that she was at Heavens door. When I slipped it inside her, Diane had no doubt. This was Heaven. While we rolled about her bed, touching, and carressing, Diane asked me "How are we supposed to fit more people into this country?" I whispered "By granting their homelands state-hood. We will bring their people, AND their lands, into our country." When Diane whispered "Do you think that it will work?" I whispered "Why not? It worked for the Founding Fathers." After I fell asleep, nursing her beauiful "B" cups, Diane got up, went to the kitchen, for a snack, and some coffee. So far, her only regret, of the night, was not having any milk, for my nursing. While snacking, Diane remembered asking several, of her friends, if I was the kind of man, who would take a womans money, for drugs, booze, or gambling. Out of the seveny-five women, whom Diane knew, none had any memory, of my asking for money. (Something the women found odd.) Only one woman claimed that I owed her thousands of dollars. When the woman claimed that the money was for cleaning her place, after I sprayed my "stuff" all over everything, Ambrosia just laughed at this. When Diane asked the woman to describe me, the womans description could not have been more different, from my appearance, than if the woman had called me a Negro. Diane had smiled, as had Ambrosia, as the woman insisted that I pay up, or that she was taking me to court. The reason why the women smiled, at the thought of court, was that the woman, herself, had SEVERAL Arrest Warrants in effect. Not much chance of going to court, when her own arrest would result. When Diane went on-line, and checked both the grocery store, and laundromat, projects, she found my name listed, as "advisor". Diane even found a picture, showing my alderman, and myself, standing, back-to-back, with the caption "Watching one anothers back" (and yours) What Diane could not understand were the articles, regarding how the deputy mayor was insisting that the city absolutely could NOT afford to send out police units, to recover every single stolen bicycle, in the county. The deputy mayor even claimed that such a project would "bankrupt" the city. The problem was that a growing number, of cyclists, were attaching tracking units, TO bicycles. This concerned Diane since several of her friends subsidized sub-poverty jobs, with profits, from bicycle sales. Diane even knew of a few people who, when children wanted bicycles, either parents, or other adults, STOLE what the child wanted. As for that damned new Berlin Wall, at last report, the White House had issued orders that, if the "caravans" got within a certain distance from the border, that American artillery was to open fire, INTO Mexico. While Congress joined the Mexicans, in stating that this would be nothing short of a declaration of war, the White House would not budge. This, according to the media, is why Congress set aside budget negotiations, in order to consider petitions for state-hood. THIS was the man who was sleeping in HER bed. A man of goals. (Man, how she wished she had some mothers milk.) Come morning, I awoke, and mounted her, whispering "You are fantasic." as I kissed her, again, before preparing to love her, again. That is, until my stomach began to growl. Diane smiled as I looked at it, and said "Shut up. I am trying to love this woman." When Diane drew my face to hers, she whispered "Baby, your belly is just saying that I made you happy. Now, you need food." When she saw me looking at her breasts, she whispered "I mean food." This is why Diane had been glad that she followed Ambrosia's advice. Ambrosia had been dis-heartened when, the morning after, she had niether "white man food"", nor mothers milk, for me. She seemed like a child, who had been disciplined, when I promised her "I will pick up some food, along the way." Diane had been clever, in how she asked me, and found out what I liked to eat. She used the old "I just read this in a magazine. How true do you think it is." I had taken out a piece of paper, and listed such ingredients as scrambled eggs, chopped onion, cheese patties, hash browns, sausages, and diet coke, along with kisses, carresses, and nursing. For breakfast, this time, Diane placed a spread, of all of my ingredients, in a breakfast, fit for a king. (The romance would be saved, for desert). By the time I departed Dianes place, Diane understood why Ambrosia smiled, at me. Now, it would be Diane, who smiled. Diane, and Ambrosia, were, both, happy, that we had remained friends, and NOT become "official" lovers. This since, as my "legend" grew, I was being called away, from home, more and more. If either Ambrosia, or Diane, wanted my ivory body, that both had to operate under the idea of "Get it, when, and where, you can." The United States would have sixty-five states, by the time our deputy mayor would admit defeat, and begin encouraging bicyclists to track bikes, electronically. Of course, for part, of one summer, this proved a major problem, for the police, as Search and Seizure warrants will filed, by the dozen. As the jail filled, with thieves, and with prisons already over-crowded, theives were given terms of home-confinement. This, and the fact that, for a short time, every prisoner transport, in town, was driving around, picking up stolen property. For awhile, the media claimed that the police station looked more like a drive up window, at a restaurant. Still, once word got around, that too many bikes were "tagged", gangs moved on, to "easier pickings". As far as my "sexuality" was concerned, Ambrosia and Diane just settled on sharing my ivory shaft. While neither complained about SHARING a "famous" man, neither wanted the "spot-light", which would come if they "officially" declared themselves. While Diane would continue to focus on her own dream. That, of becoming a fashion model, Ambrosia would, eventually, content herself with giving birth to the children of a man, she refused to name. What thrilled Ambrosia was the fact that the fathers "race" genes, far outpaced her Ebony genes. She would, eventually, give birth to a total of five children. All of them as ivory as their father. By the time Diane was getting used to being told "You are too OLD for modelling", Diane came to enjoy helping Ambrosia with her children. Diane and Ambrosia, took turns, with the children. Each watching the young while the other attended "Employment Groups". While Diane noticed that it was "suspicious", how much the children acted like me, it only took three, of Dianes friends, to remind Diane "You know. HE is not the only man, of his kind." It would not be until the United States contained 90 states, that a drug lord would execute me, while I spoke with villagers, about state-hood. The drug lord wanted these people to harvest his crops. It was only after the man emptied his clip, into my body, on international television, that American Military Police took the man under arrest. While the assassin was buried, in an un-marked grave, my body would go first to my home town, for viewing, then to Arlington Cemetary. It was not until Diane mentioned "I wish he would have let me give him some children. Now, his legacy is gone, with him." Ambrosia would say "I would not be too sure, about that." When Diane gave Ambrosia a look, Ambrosia just smiled. All that my home-town had to show, for my life, was the return of grocery shopping, to the area, as well as a laundromat, and a complete end to bicycle theft, once the city made it clear that ALL bicycles were being tagged. All that the nation had to show, for my efforts, was the addition of up to 45, additional, states. What would the future look like?

THE QUESTIONS

THE QUESTIONS While Maria and I remained "intimate" friends, over the years, we did, in fact, watch as Calvin had his benefits cut off, many times, as well as serving time, for what was described as "welfare fraud". Simply stated, Calvin used up his benefits, the first week, of every month, at convenience stores. For the remainder, of the month, Calvin stole, and sold, anything he could get his hands on, for food money. Atleast three times, Calvin was sent to jail, for six months. This, for recruiting a friend, to aid Calvin, in breaking into food pantries. Calvin broke in, then he, and his accomplice, packed the truck, full of food. Since food pantries, like churches, are considered "holy ground", few have alarm systems. Each time Calvin was caught, it was during a random, home, visit, by his case worker. Calvin was arrested, each time, since he did not even bother to hide his "booty". Maria and I watched the man being taken to jail, several times. Each time, she snuggled up to me. Maria and I had become friends, over a conversation, over mens, and womens, habits. Everything from goals, to relationships. Even motor vehicles. When we, first, began to talk, Maria provided some deli type food. Not all that tasty, but good, all the same. When Maria had mentioned "Not near as good as my mother can cook." I suggested buying the ingredients, then fixing the food, the way her mother did. I was surprised when Maria asked me "Will you help me to eat it all? Even if it means multiple meals?" I suggested "Might make good practice, for married life." This is how we "began". As for the romance, that part came, naturally. As Maria's cooking improved, I went from verbal compliments, to kissing her. Soon, embraces were added, and, before I knew it we were resting, in her bed, after meals. It was easy, finding time to spend, together. Calvin was away, so much, that Maria and I could date, sometimes, for months, before we saw Calvin, again. This is how I learned that Maria was not just into home-cooking, but that my favorite grocery store, was hers, as well. A discount, grocery, store. A place, with ten times the variety, of the convenience store. The one thing, that I had to "watch", with Maria, was her desire for filling meals. While she had to get used to the fact that I did not drink beer, she, also, learned that I preferred HUGE salads, to huge meals. Maria was just happy when I took over Calvins weight training equipment. (Man, had he told Maria, several times, how he could become a professional body builder.) As I told Maria, with my back injury, I had a choice. Either exercise, or take HIGH potency, pain medication. I CHOSE exercise. Maria watched as I sculpted my body, into a mass of muscle. Now, while this did not encourage my spine, to heal, any faster, the extra muscle protected the spine, and cut down on pain, as I built up. While my health campaign continued, Calvin was sentenced to a full year, in prison, after being convicted of breaking into five pantries, in a single night. Street camera's had caught the fleeing vehicle, and the police arrested Calvin, with an apartment, full of stolen food. Calvin caught an extra eighteen months, when an officer used a night stick, to push Calvin forward, only to have Calvin beat the guard, with his own stick. The judge, overseeing the case, would have ruled that Calvin was ordered to work, to pay off his debts. This, however, with Calvins work record, showed would, never, work. Calvin did not CARE about work. IF he showed up, that was fine by him. IF he didn't... As Maria pointed out, this is the same reason why workers had to collect Calvin, for appointments. IF he showed up... This is why his workers had to pick him up. For Maria, I was a delightful "change of pace". I was the one who, when schedules were made, I kept to them. Maria did wonder how Calvin would adjust, when a judge, finally, sent him into LONG-TERM care. Still, Maria had me to train on. She just had to get used to the fact that, even afer day-time sex, instead of television, and beer, Maria found me with iced tea, and at her computer. What I dont understand is why, when my plans began to see yields, that I was told that Maria was "too old". After all, she was only twenty-nine. Turns out that the media would pay MORE attention if I were seen with an eighteen year old. When I asked Maria, she said "Sad, but true. To the media, I am a relic." Well, if Maria was a "relic", at age 29, then WHAT was I, at well over fifty? As for the reason why I began asking Maria to teach me Spanish, there was more than one reason. First of all, there was tthe "problem" that, when Maria got really aroused, she forgot how to speak English, and returned to Spanish. While I respected her right to her native language, my problem was "Maria, when you speak Spanish, I do not know if your words mean "More, baby, more", or "You are hurting me." When Maria suggested "My friend, Tequilla, has a deal, with her man. Anytime she slips into Spanish, he slaps her." When I suggested "Not my style." When Maria would ask "What then?" I suggested "Why dont you teach me Spanish. This way, in either language, I will know when you want more love." I, truly, do NOT know how she did it, but Maria had me able to master basic conversation, in Spanish, inside four months. (Maria only asked me NOT to tell her friends.) I found out why when Darlene visited Maria, one day. In Spanish, Darlene was telling Maria "I, really, thought that Marguerette was the one. She was so GOOD, in BED. I swear that I even tried to BUY her affection. She wants a man, though." Then looked at me, saying "I cant understand why." When Maria tried to explain what it was like, having a man, inside her body, all Darlene would say was "I know of vibrators, which can do better." On another day, I caught Darlene actually asking for Maria's breasts. When Maria reminded the woman "They belong to my man." Darlene all-but DRAGGED Maria into her arms, bent Maria over, and kissed my woman, about as deep as I did. While Maria accepted the un-wanted kiss, and necking, it was when Darlene rippeed Maria's top open, saying "I want some." That Maria called out, in Spanish "Husband". When I grabbed Darlene off of Maria, the first thing Darlene asked was "When did you (me), learn Spanish?" As Maria sat up, she told Darlene "I taught him." When Darlene asked "WHY?, This is our language. That of our ancestors." Maria said "My husband wanted to know when he was making me happy, and not just in Engish." What I noticed, but Darlene did not, was that, even as Maria rested, she did nothing, to cover her breast. In fact, what Maria DID do was to carress the flesh. What I could not believe was when, as I moved, to comfort my woman, Darlene all-but pleaded "Can we make it a three-some? I need some woman, BAD. Even if it means having a "man", as well." When Maria looked at me, asking "Husband?" I told her "My angel. It is YOUR body. She is your friend." In the bedroom, Darlene was the first, out of her clothes. When Darlene entered our bed, she, actually, called out, in Spanish "Me, first, Maria." The problem was that, while Maria was more WOMAN than ever, what Darlene had wanted was more of a man. Someone who would "take control." When Darlene cried out, in desire, Maria moved aside, asking "Husband, YOU are on." While Darlene got me off, until I was empty, once she rested, for a moment, she slapped me as she said "I dont need a man. I need a woman." I think that the moment, when Darlene got angry enough, that she took her clothes, and left, was the moment, when I took Maria into my arms, gave her a DEEP kiss, then drew my beloved into bed. After a night, of incredibly deep passion, Maria snuggled to my side, as she whispered "You know, for a confirmed Lesbian, Darlene sure "got off", with you. I think that is why she got mad." This is when I embraced the woman that I loved, and kissed her. When she went into Spanish, saying "More and deeper", I gave her what she wanted, atleast until my stomach growled. After this came a terrific breakfast, then I started out, on my daily errands. This, while Maria stopped by her mothers house, to tell of the nights activities. Maria tried to be tender, considering the fact that Darlene was who she was. This is why Maria was delicate, in telling her mother. Sure enough, mother repeated her same phrase. "All that woman needs is a man, to take CHARGE. Someone, who will force her to be a woman." When Maria would suggest "Mother, this is America. Freedom of Choice." All mother would do was whisper "Get a good man inside her, and watch her turn into a woman." Maria knew there was no chance, of winning this, so she informed her mother, about us. Here, again, mother had warned her daughter "Once you teach that boy Spanish, there will be no more secrets." Still, Maria had no regrets. While we remained friends, once Maria saw her friends getting pregnant, we broke off when I told her that she needed to find a man, who wanted children. I just dont know why her friends could not understand that we had broken up. After all, the most we did, in public, was embrace, and kiss. Not like Francesca, and her man. While the two "broke up", before we did, thee women noticed how Francesca made no complaints, even when the man, while kissing her, carressed her breast, through her top. As if that were not enough. Any time there was oral sex going on, Francesca, and her man, were in the middle of it. While the two gave, and received, oral, it was when the "main course" began, that the two "went at it", with the passion, of newlyweds. After the fact, the two would lay, side-by-sidee, just as Maria and I did, in bed. These two, however, lay, exposed, in front of the party, laughing at how good sex was, with an "ex". While Maria and I agreed that, in return for my reading her mail, we would embrace, carress, and share a kiss, it would seem that Maria had forgoten something. Maria had forgotten how much she LOVED swapping me what I wanted, in return for my assembling her kit furniture. Since nowadays, Maria did not have much kits left to buy, she made deals with her friends. I would build THEIR furniture, and Maria would "pay" me. Pay, Maria did. In fact, she went from offering me weeks, in return for construction, to offering months. While Maria KNEW that, eventually, she would have to re-enter the dating game, she traded me a few weeks, here and there, for escorting her to parties. Maria's biggest ask was with her grand-mother. An elderly woman, who felt that a womans first purpose, in life, was to bear children. While grand-mother considered Maria's sisters "bohemians", for working in arts and crafts, the woman, also, made it known that she did not like Maria's last man. Frankly, he did not like her family, either. Especially after her sisters reminded him that he was with Maria. This is why Maria was so happy, when she met me. Since her grand-mother made it clear that I ws her "favorite", for Maria, Maria got "off the hook", for the question: "When are you going to find a man." For the past, few years, grand-mother had been reminding me of he "joys, of parenthood." Now that we were "no longer", Maria had a problem. How to tell grand-mother that we had parted. Maria's suggestion was "I want to wait, just until we bury her. Then, I will tell her." When I asked "Until then?" Maria would say "I give you all that you want, and you pretend that we still, love one another." When I asked "What happens if we DO fall back in love?" Maria would, only say "I never knew we were OUT of it." For each holiday season, that I agreed to be her man, Maria would grant me an extra YEAR, of V.I.P. status, in her bed. As to the question, of how LONG this could last, I had no idea. After all, how LONG can two people be in love? Life was just one question, after another. Would the questions ever end?

THE NIGHT SHIELA WISHED HAD NEVER HAPPENED

THE HAUNTING PAST MYSTERY OF THUNDER ISLAND

THE HAUNTING PAST: MYSTERY OF THUNDER ISLAND I know that it will sound like a combination, of bizzarre, and weird, but what I state is the complete truth. Tami and I had just been assigned to review a case, in which a female client was positive, to the point, of obsession, that the fact that her own daughters were playing with a "spirit board" meant that the girls were "playing" with dark magic. The mothers "proof" was the "fact" that, when the parents took the board away, soon after this, the girls were found, playing with the board, again. This gave Tami a laugh, as she remembered the doll, that her own mother had taken away, more than once. Problem was that Tami KNEW where mother put away things. This is why Tami kept the doll, and did not part with it until she saw that her mother no-longer cared. Now, we were being sent to get rid of a board game. How crazy is life? What we did not expect was what happened when a "temp" took over for Mr. Brown's secretary. While Tami and I were glad, when the board game case was "brushed aside", what we, never, figured on was being assigned to, was the mystery of a place called "Thunder Island". (As if Thunder Road was not bad enough.) The best part, of the case, was that, un-like the Mystery of the Drag Racers, and Mystery of Thunder Road, this mystery had nothing to do with race cars. According to the contact, Thunder Island was much more similar to Disney's "Night on Bald Mountain." Maybe a cross with Milificents castle, from "Snow White". What our contact wanted to know was why, even on clear nights, thunder could be heard, and lightning could be seen, streaking, about the island. The Brown Agency was being asked to investigate because as many as twenty other investigators had gone to the Island, with none returning. When I asked Tami "Just where is this island located?" Tami would pull up photos, of an island, inside the lake, of a volcano crater. Tami would say "$20.00 says that the people went into the mountain, and are lost, inside." I could agree with this since, after all, geography showed that the island was, actually, PART of the mountain. Rain had just filled in the gully, between the walls, and the island. As Mr. Brown would suggest, via vid-conference: "The contact wants to know if noises, and effects, are man-made. If so, what is the reason/purpose?" This was the kind of research that Tami LOVED doing. Learning about a place, via research, and reading. It did not take her long, at all, to learn that the original mountain top had been above the island, and that the island was the top of a volcanic vent. This is why it had survived the explosion, from centuries ago. The vent was a pressure release point. All that I can say is that the mountain must have been massive, since the crater, around the vent, was massive enough, to make the biggest lake, in my hometown, look like a creek, by comparison. While locals currently used the lake, for boating, and swimming, there were more utility-style plans, in the works. If Tami and I could de-bunk the supernatural stories, there were plans, to drill into the lake, and let its water supply handle the local towns water needs. Before any drilling could take place, however, the lake, and island, had to be verified as free of danger, to health and life. This is why twenty missing people had to be found. Tami's main concern was that, even if this mountain was "extinct", there could be MILES, of underground vents. Who knew WHERE the other, missing, people were. Upon arrival, at the location, our pilots were relieved to find enough space, to land, on the island, itself. Nothing suspicious, upon arrival. Just a quiet island, sitting among the lakes water, containing tree's, grass, and some abandoned buildings. Due to the otherwise rugged nature, of the island, we agreed with our pilots, who set up our version of U.A.V.'s. (Un-manned, Aerial Vehicles) Basically, radio-controlled planes. After each, of the walkman sized robots was airborn, Tami returned to researching the vent system. This while our pilots, and myself, went scouting about the area. The island was not "huge", but it was big enough for people to sun-bathe, and to hold picnics, on. A FULL, DEEP, recon, of the island, took about one day. By this time, however, Tami had some very bad news, for us. "My research has, so far, yielded atleast 87 places, where people could either hide, or be lost." When our pilot asked "DIstress beacons?" Tami would check the recorders then say "So far, nothing." When our co-pilot asked "Could the rocks, and boulders, be blocking the signal?" Tami would say "Anything is possible." Our first week, on the island, was so quiet that it was like there was no one, else, in the world. No action. No thunder. No lightning. Just native insects. Actually, the only "action", that we had was when Tami sent the U.A.V.'s into the vents. She had to recall the units, within 500 feet, of entry, since they came upon an unusually wide spread layer of Lead. As to what Lead might be doing, in volcanic vents, this was anyones guess. Since even Tami and I knew how badly that even dense Lead inhalations could damage the human brain, this is why we were happy to have our militarty-reject respirators. Now, the defense department had contracted for portable respirators, which would supply nearly un-limited, breathable, air, for as long as worn, the contractor just could not seem to make the device last more than five days. This is why myself, and the pilots, put on our gear, respirators, and signal-boosting equipment, before proceeding past the point, where remote, radio, reception just did not exist, due to the lead. While the three of us must have looked like aliens, in our suits, our signal-boosters kept us on-line, with G.S.2. If there was one, annoying thing, about these suits, it was the "Heads Up Display". From the moment, when we passed the first point, of strong lead content, the H.U.D. kept a constant read out on the atmosphere. Now I understood why the military turned down these suits. It was because of the maddeningly constant reminders. I mean, HOW are soldiers supposed to get work done, when suits kept flashing "WARNING", and the count down, to the five day limit. After each twelve hour pass, we had to return to the plane, and toss those suits aside. (I truly, doubt, that the manufacturer would like our review, of their equipment.) While the suggestion was made, that the tunnels/vents could be hosed down, to settle the lead, there were atleast twenty problems, with this option. ALL of them had families, waiting for word. How would it look if we drowned people, to search for them? The only good/bad "news", that Tami had, to report, to Mr. Brown, was that the island seemed quiet, since our arrival. Not one sign of thunder, or lightning. This lead Tami and I to question the "urban legend" theory, that couples came to the island, during storms, for "romantic evenings". We were about ten days, on the island, when a couple of things happened. First, Mr. Black sent us some prototype tracted robots. These, we sent into the vents, and were "hard-wired" to G.S.2. Second, Tami had to minimize a search screen, when a U.A.V. detected movement. It was the other side of the island, however, thanks to U.A.V. developments, Tami had a clear picture, of two families, arriving, by boat, to the island. Nothing suspicious. Just a couple of older men, with fishing poles, women, lounging, on the beach, and children, playing in the lake. Tami only noted the information, in her report, since she wondered just how MANY locals believed in Thunder Island. Personally, I was both amazed, and thankful, at the amazing advance, which Mr. Blacks team had made, with fibre optics. 30,000 feet, of cable, taking the space of only a single spool. About the only thing we learned, by week two, was that the lead was NOT a naturally occurring deposit. All scans verified that the lead was in sheets. Two feet thick, twelve feet tall, and twenty-five feet, long. This posed a problem, for both G.S.2, and the Brown Agency, since neither could find any lead producers, who worked with such large sheets. Since lead is so pliable, it would have had to be shipped, in storage containers. If stored "free-style", it would have bowed and sagged. Even Mr. Browns contacts could find no shop, which handled lead, in such sizes. Back at Thunder Island, the robot had just reached the 10,000 foot mark, when it located the missing investigators. According to the video feed, however, it was like the people were telling the probe to "go back!", even as it rounded the corner, to locate them. When Tami thought she saw a shadow, behind the robot, and switched views, to the rear, even our co-pilot would ask "What the..." as a slab came down, across the tunnel. Now, under normal circumstances, such a fall should have severed the link, leaving the probe useless. Whoever the people were, who built this place, they had no idea they would be coming up against Mr. Brown's detective agency. Mr. Brown. The man who built a detective agency out of recruiting the brightest, most talented, zaniest, and odd-ball, people that he could find. This was the secret, of the Brown Agency's success. A human version of the Skunkworks. To date, NO case had gone beyond the unique variety of the Brown Agency staff members talents. This case was no exception. At the request, of the Department of Defense, Mr. Black's techs had been working to develop a new material, to connect robot probes, to their base of operations. Thunder Island would serve to test just how good Mr. Blacks techs really were. While the slab may have come crashing down, with the weight of 20 (+) tons, our experimental cable withstood the impact, in fine style. So far as we could tell, the explorers may have been dehydrated, and mal-nourished, but all were alive. As the "leader", of the group, told Tami, via the video camera, "This place is a trap. It is triggered by movement." When Tami would ask "Is that why you have not emerged, yet?" The man said "Yes" When Tami asked "How LONG until reset?" The man would say "Five hours, maybe six. Remember, if you try to move your robot, it will trigger the trap, again." Tami would say "Got it. Talk to you, soon." After sending off a flash message, to headquarters, Tami would gather us together, asking "Any idea's?" Our co-pilot would say "I dont get it. We dont have any bases, near here. Why go to all of this effort, for useless land?" Our pilot would say "Good point. Right now, however, our focus should be on rescue. Not on who did this, or why." When Tami would say "I am not so certain. Now, while you men work up a rescue plan, I am going to continue my research. Maybe something, in the past, will shed some light on this." When our co-pilot would come up with the idea of using jackhammers, and hydraulic vice grips, the group would say "We tried picks and shovels. We tried some C-4. The more noise, and vibration, the more the tunnels react. We DID have eight air shafts, providing breathable air. With each escape attempt, one closed. We have only four shafts, to provide us with lead free air." When Tami would ask "Speaking of lead, HOW did you make it, so far, without breathing equipment?" Another team member would show the used up air purifiers, which each team member had used. By this time, our co-pilot would have either earned a medal, or a court-martial, for ripping the displays out of the helmets. Now, we would have to rely on wits, to make sure we surfaced, BEFORE the fresh air gave out. Since it would have been impossible even to FIT our hovercraft into the tunnels, the pilots, and myself, would be left, to turn a pallet into a sled, and load fresh suits onto it. While the trap door did, in fact, retract, as predicted, this, still left the question of how to defeat the trap door. When everyone, from the D.O.D., to Black Ops, denied any knowledge, of this place, or the trap door, the best that anyone came up with was when one of Mr. Blacks tech's suggested using a high-wire act. The action, which the tech recommended, was right out of classic burglary, and secret agent, movies. The idea would be to bring the suits within visual range of the trapped workers. At this point, we would use a special type, of grip, to anchor one end, of the line, outside of the trap. The other end, the pilot would shoot just over the heads, of the trapped researchers. With the kevlar/titanium blend line, between the two points, the suits would be opened, and made ready. After this, each person, trapped, would zip line over to our side. The process may have been time-consuming, tiring, and energy-draining, but, with almost four and a half days to spare, a group, of tired, drained, hungry, people, would emerge from the tunnel. The pilot even managed to save our robot, by using a second zip line, to lift the unit from the floor. After showers, meals, and personal contacts, with employers, to verify that people were, in fact, alive, Tami gave us the bad news. No one. Not military. Not civilian. Not private enterprise. No one had any knowledge of the traps in the tunnels. As Tami would report "Almost to a source, all believe that the tunnels were carved by old prospectors. The shape, of the lead, is just coincidence. Everyone I have contacted shares the notion that this place was just an old mine." When I suggested "As for the alleged thunder, and light..." This is when atleast two researchers would ask "What do you mean, "alleged"?" Tami would interrupt, saying "Since we have been here, all is quiet. No thunder, lightning, witches, on brooms. Nothing. Personally, I think this would be a great place to have a week off." When another researcher would ask "Did you plane sneak in, as we did?" I would ask "Why?" The researcher would say "If they dont know you commin', they have fun, round here. Its when they KNOW you here that everything is quiet." This is when our pilot would ask "Are you saying that someone is CONTROLLING events, in this area, and that, if they SEE us, taking off, the special effects will start up?" Tami would ask "Why not? Remember that one case we worked. The one where all was quiet, as long as locals saw our plane parked near the location." Our co-pilot would say "Boy, do I remember that one. Place was as quiet, as a graveyard, until we flew away." Our pilot would add "Yeah, we had to fly two cities away, to find a place to park. Took us almost four hours to return." This is when Tami would ask "Who is in for some hide-and-seek?" Making sure to be SEEN packing up, G.S.2 lifted off, and flew away. Just as our extra passengers had said, by making our exit noticable, we were assured that life would go back to "normal". Thanks to our pilots former military service, G.S.2 did not have to fly two cities away, this time. No, according to a source, at the Pentagon, there was a "blast bunker", located just outside of town. Our source would tell us that this was just one, of nearly a dozen "off the radar" test sites, for new explosives. Even before the bombing of Japan, there had been "whispers", about new blasting, devices. With the possibility that an explosive, with atomic force, but without radioactive fall-out, being tossed about Europe, Washington D.C. had set up its own "think-tanks", and "proving grounds", to test the deadliest weapons imaginable. When Tami inquired, the source told her "This information is not to be made public, for 250 more years." Tami would promise "We are private investigators. Nothing, that we do, is made public. If you want an N.D.A., I can provide one." That was true. Mr. Brown's primary success lay in the fact that only clients knew of the firms existance. New clients only came from former clients. According to the information, which the source shared, with Tami, no more than five attempts, at "super-explosives" were made. Sure, there were PLENTY of THEORIES, about what SHOULD work. Plenty of equasions. Afer a total of five failures, all of which had been promised could level half of North America, in a single blast, the program had been cancelled. During the time, of the Berlin Wall, and the threat, of Communism, the bunkers became storage depots, in case the Soviets did, actually, invade the U.S. Since the bunkers were buried below ground, it was thought that atleast a few would survive aerial attack. After the fall, of the Soviet Union, the stockpiled weapons were sold off, to military schools. For the past 25 years, the bunkers had sat unused. All-but forgotten, by the world. Best of all, each had a camouflauged runway. While our pilots expected a bumpy landing, on a runway, which had seen much better days, all, on-board our plane, were surprised at how smooth the landing was. There was even a left over winch, which our pilots used to tow G.S.2 into an un-used hangar. After our pilots got our hovercraft ready for use (our cars would be useless, on the lake.), ALL of us were surprised to find some old style hovercraft, left over from the cold war. While not ten percent as silent as our own craft, the fact that these were antiques would cause loss of interest, in no time. While one, of the team leaders, would express "I hope the military does not mind our using their equipment." Our co-pilot would suggest "Dont worry about it. If the brass felt this equipment had any use, it would have been gone decades ago." Driving AROUND the town was easy, in our craft. We could float over anything. The angle, of the mountain, was no problem, either. We just skimmed up the sides, over the lake, then settled in, on Thunder Island. Thankfully, decades, of dis-use made the military hovercraft "Blend right in", with the terrain. Now, we wait. And wait, we did. All of this, while Tami tracked the legends of the eruption, which had created this crater, and the island. The most reliable information came from the indian tribes. Their information said that, at some point, LONG before even the Vikings came, the god, of the Earth, had become angry. No one, really, agreed on the reason. The story said that, when the god became enraged, he set forth a mighty roar, which blew the Earth into the sky. The Earth was like fire, liquid and molten. When Tami checked on the vent, which formed the core of the island, she found legends, of jewels, and gold, being tossed into the vent, to appease the gods. She found rumors, of gold, silver, even lead, being melted down, then poured on the walls of the vent. When Tami asked "WHY?", the tribal council could only come up with a version, of relieving stress, with massage. The vent was smoothed so that any pressure build up would find easy passage to the sky, where the spirits would take the polutants away. Nice bed time stories, but less than relevant. Mr Brown had sent us here to find facts. Not bed time stories. When some thunder, and lightning, did begin to over-take the island, yet it seemed to RISE from the ground, not strike the ground, one of the researchers told me not to bother looking. The sources, of the thunder, and lightning, were mobile. The researchers had spent days trying to track he source. When I would suggest "If it is mobile, then it has to be man-made." Another researcher would ask "Okay, WHERE do they hide it, when not in use?" When I suggested "The vents." The researchers would suggest "Without breathing equipment? The lead would not only poison their lungs. It would saturate their clothes. Even their food." For the next two weeks, until the full moon, all we could do was watch, and gather data, on the island. One thing I CAN report. I learned why they called this place "THUNDER Island." When the thunder really "kicked up", it roared, so loud, it would make an acid rock concert seem quiet, by comparison. Tami might have smiled, as the other, female, researchers, jumped into mens arms, as the thunder crashed. That is, except for the fact that, while the thunder was at full blast, my partner hid within the hovercraft, herself. While our pilots made every effort, to TRACK the noise, it was useless. With the crater walls, sounds bounced back and forth, like ping pong balls. The first night, of the full moon, was a total "wash out", and I mean that, literally. A storm, maybe magnitude eight, swept over the island, and only our sealed cabin, on the hovercraft, kept us dry. Our pilots would say they held sympathy, for the researchers, in the other hovercraft. These were not built to be waterproof. They were built to hover OVER water. While the storm lasted from dusk, until about 2 a.m., Tami and I agreed with our pilots. Best to wait until daybreak, then check for damage. As for warmth, even I did not understand the tech, which was employed, to generate heat, inside the cabin. All I knew was that, no matter the outside temperature, the heating system kept us warm. While OUR radio system, including our link, to G.S.2 was waterproofed, it would turn out that the other craft were not so lucky. We found this out at about 02:30 hours, when the other hovercraft began using a flashlight, to signal us. Now, sure, the four of us COULD have returned, to G.S.2 any time that we wanted to, but our pilots would say that it would be better, for morale, if we stayed. Come sun rise, both craft returned to G.S.2, and this is when we learned another truth, about private enterprise. Since Thunder Island was an inland lake, with a town, close by, the investigators had been supplied only basic, hiking, rations. Sure, they were "delicious", and "nutritious", but the "economy size", meant very little content. In fact, it would take atleast four, of the packs, to equal just one of our military surplus rations. Still, we rested, for an extended time. Not due to fatigue, or full stomachs. The problem was that, over time, the waterproofed seals, on the other hovercraft, had eroded. The craft had, barely, made it to the plane, before its systems shut-down, due to "exposure to moisture". When a researcher would ask "Why didn't the military spend the money, to waterproof this thing?" Our co-pilot would remind the researcher "Sir, you have to understand.. This craft is over half a century old. Eventually, even the seals, on OUR hovercraft, will need to be replaced." This is why, as our pilots took apart the engines, the rest of us got busy, with towels, rags, and so on. The sooner that the parts were dried out, the sooner that the craft would be operational, again. The seals, however, were another problem, altogether. Due to the age of the craft, this type, of seal had gone out of production, decades ago. This is where Mr. Blacks tech department went to work, again. Using detailed measurements, and the serial numbers, from the engines, Mr. Black had his techs turning out replacement gaskets, by mid-afternoon. By supper time, another, vertical lift, plane was setting the cases off, right near the disabled ship. It was a good thing, too, since the original gaskets just fell to pieces, when parts came apart. Decades, of storage, and dry rot, had taken their toll. Tami would send Mr. Black our thanks, both for the engine gaskets, and the hatch, and window, seals. By evening, we had the old machine operating like our hovercrafts grand-father. With G.S.2's link, to the National Weather Service, when the report showed another storm in-bound, we used every hand we could get, to drag out some chutes, from our plane, and covered the "grand-father" with them. Sure enough, just as we closed the hatch, of G.S.2, the rain began to fall. While we could see the storm, cutting loose, on the island, when the researchers asked about interior silence, our pilots were left to explain what G.S.2 was, originally, designed for. When the researchers asked "BY the way, how MUCH do you expect this plane cost the American taxpayer?" Almost as a chorus, all four of us said "Dont ask." After all, WHAT would taxpayers think if they knew that up to $900 billion, of their tax dollars had been spent, on this "reject"? A plane, which spent its days chasing spirits. Un-like the hovercraft, G.S. 2 had the finest sound baffles, in existance. The design was also so sleek that it would take the most powerful, hurricane force, winds, just to rock our "boat". While the researchers were working on their own notes, Tami was working the internet, trying to find some very OLD information, on this island. And, YES, G.S.2 had "snuck back", to the island, on a moon-less, overcast, night. The problem Tami found was that there just weren't any records, dating before 1791. Only the oral history, of the tribes. In fact, it was only two weeks later, that an indian elder arrived, at the island, with his great grand son. The elder asked us "Would you, PLEASE, explain, to my great-grand-son, that the vents are not safe. He will DIE, if he goes there." While Tami would mention "There are toxic levels, of lead, in the vent, are you sure you want to risk that?" When the young brave would say "The ancient ones. They will protect me." When I would ask "WHO are the ancient ones? WHERE do they live?" The elder would say "Our legends say that the ancient ones have ships, like yours. They just had the ships centuries before." When Tami would ask "You know this HOW?" The young man would say "It is part of our history. I will be the first brave to see them, in many moons." I was about to object, until the lead researcher would suggest "Why not let him make his attempt. Normal gear. The elder can watch, from the plane." While the brave did not want the gear, it was only when the elder would say "Put it on, or go home." The brave put ON the suit. When the brave entered the vent, Tami locked the drones frequencies onto the suits. When the brave found the lead sheets, he called "Grand-Father. It is the story of the old ones." When the elder asked "How does it begin?" The brave began reading, in the indian language, but only until the elder realized that only he indians understood. When the elder called "Grand-son. I should have said "Read it in English." The brave would say "As soon as I can find a panel, which can be read." When Tami called, to the brave, "How MANY languages are present?" The brave would reply "So far, I have found five. Cherokee, Navaho, Iroquoi, plains..." A researcher would say "Interesting. Finding writings, in so many, indian, languages." When Tami would ask "In what way?" The researcher would say "The nations had no alphabet, that we knoow of. Am I right sir?" The Elder would say "Until the white man came, we had no need." We began to discuss this, but only until the brave would say "This MUST be a joke." When the elder would ask "Grand-son, WHAT is a joke?" The young man would say "Grand-Father, these researchers MUST have planted this information." When the lead researcher would ask "What does he mean?" and the elder would ask "What is your reason?" The brave would say "If I am reading this, correctly, it claims that Starfleet, and colonial battlestars, are waiting, just beyond the edge of the solar system." When the elder would ask "Does it SAY what they are waiting for?" The brave would say "Grand-father, our science class sent a recorder out, on the last mission. It left the solar system just last year. If Starfleet, or anyone else, were waiting, dont you think our camera's would have shown them?" When a researcher would suggest "Maybe, a cloaking device?" Everyone looked at the man, like he was half crazy. He would add "Just saying." When the elder would ask our group "Does your robot have a scanner?" Our pilot would tell Tami "Command 2145, Alpha." Within moments, we were receiving computer-enhanced feed from the probe. As the brave closed on the trap door, Tami cautioned him, and he replied "Yes, miss. I see the signs, of tools. I know where to step." The elder would say "I hope he DOES remember." Maybe 1,000 feet beyond any point where either man, or probe, had travelled, so far, the brave would find a fallen piece, of lead, then he reported, to G.S.2 "It seems the rock was not stroong enough to hold this piece." He, then, held the piece up, for probe examination, before placing it aside, so that the probe could scan the underlying sheet. A few minutes later, we, all, heard the sound, of feet. This, even before the brave would ask "I thought you said no one else was down here." When our pilot would cut in, asking "Son, pan your camera around, maybe just 180 degree's." When the brave did this, something flashed by, just beyond the edge of vision. This is when the field researcher would sound off, asking "Simmons, where are you?" When Tami asked "Who is Simmons?" A female researcher would say "Simmons is a creep, who LOVES to play tricks. HOW he got on this team, I will, never, know." It was not until Simmons entered the plane, asking "What is the shouting about. I was just collecting some fire-wood." This is when the elder would remember an old story. The story, of a demon, who guards a treasure. When the elder would voicee his concern, to the brave, saying "I think you have come too close, to the treasure. You have awoken the demon, which guards it." When Tami would ask "Guards what?" The elder would say "The story says that when the Great god became angry at the sickness of the world, he broguth forth the great rain." Tami would say "Noahs flood. Every kid knows that story." The elder would add "What your Christian history does NOT tell you is what happened after the flood." When our co-pilot woulld say "Sure it does. It claims that God promised Noah there would, never, be another, great flood. Everybody knows that." The elder would say "Son, that is the Christian version, of history. Among OUR history, it is claimed that, before the flood, when our ancestors looked to the sky, and read the signs, they placed the best of us, all that we had become, into a cave, and sealed it, shut." When Tami would ask "Your ancestors buried people, ALIVE?" The elder would say "We buried no one, alive. The story says that we buried all of our accumulated KNOWEDGE. The story says that a sacrifice was made, to place a demon in charge of security. The demon will "stand down" ONLY when man has learned the great lessons." When a researcher would ask "WHAT great lessons? Peace, and Harmony?" The elder would say "The demon will only step down..." This is when the enforcer demon would appear, saying "The indian is correct, for the most part. The indians DID hide their most important information. They called forth the strongest power, that they could think of, as a sort-of security guard. That is what is hunting the brave. When Tami would ask "Why a demon? Why not just several bricks thick, of wall?" The demon would say "Insurance. Good thing they thought of it when they did. Man! When this mountain went up. She made St. Helens look like a picnic." When I would ask "How did the island survive?" The demon would say "What you are calling an "island" is, in fact, and in truth, a pressure release vent. I wont bore you with the details, except to say that you better hope that kid is NOT inside the tubes, the next time it blows." When Simmons would joke "What if he is? Will Satan be watching, for him?" The Enforcer demon would give the man a look more deadly than Tami and I had seen, before. The demon would inform the rest of us "If ANY mortal is in that tube, next time it blows, they will, never, survive the ride." With that, the demon vanished. Atleast now, Tami could verify that the island, and lake, were caused by a volcanic eruption. While the elder was asking the brave to leave the vent, and escape the beast, the brave responded "It knows where I am. Too late to go back. Going for the treasure." Deeper, inside the mountain, the brave no-sooner said "Eureka!", and showed a great treasure, un-seen, by human eyes, in thousand of years, when a growl was followed by the braves life signs flat-lining. Strange thing was, Tami was just asking the elder "What will the demon do with the remains?" when the video showed the demon, dragging the body back to the central entrance. The demon seemed immune, to the lead. All the elder would say was "I hope the Great Spirit is kind to my grand-son." To our astonishment, the demon loaded the body onto the robot, then made the HUMAN sign for "Get out." Fortunately, the robot was wired to the braves suit, so retrieval was possible. While the robot brought the body back, to the surface, the whole lot of us, reviewed the video, from just before the death, trying to figure out what was worth killing for. The closest that we can, was the elders translation, of a lead panel. The panel described a process, by which static electricity would be collected, by some un-specified material, and released, under predetermined conditions. On another panel was written the reason for the traps. It was to frighten away the curious. It was, even, written that, at the time, the top, of the volcano, had been sealed, to prevent entry. In fact, the volcano had been sealed, at several, different points. The problem, with the indian version, of history, was that it stated that the volcano had been sealed just before the flood, of about 5,000 years ago. HOW could this be correct, since samples indicated that erosion went much further back? The best, that Mr. Blacks team could come up with was 100,000 (+) years. In summary, it would seem that while SOME-one had hidden SOME-thing away, setting up a series, of traps, to prevent intrusion, and even sealing off access, mother nature had done her own work. At SOME point, in history, the mountain had needed release, even more than someone needed security. When the pressure found its path blocked, it, literally, blew its top off. Maybe 10,000 feet worth. This left behind a damaged, security, station, a crater, an island, and a demon, which no one remembered to shut off. The reason why the island was ruled "off limits", to development, was not due to the demon. It was due to a security system, which no one had seen, before. It was a technology which is far in advance of our own. With no, known, way, to dis-arm it, Thunder Island would remain a blissful mystery. All that the video showed was that there were some kind of "documents", protected by a life-form. The question was: IF indian lore were correct, then WHEN would mankind be ready to accept the knowledge? While Tamis "final report", to the Brown Agency, would look more like swiss cheese, Mr. Brown did remind us that the goal was to find out WHAT the causes, of the thunder, and lightning, were. Not to stop them. According to Mr. Brown "None of us can be held responsible for what people might have done half a million years ago. We are responsible for today." While G.S.2 did airlift the researchers, from Thunder Island, we were happy when everyone signed the non-disclosure forms. (Even Simmons signed, once reminded of the potential penalty). The elder, we delivered to their tribe. At reservation request, Tami and I remained for the funeral service. After the service, the tribal shaman placed a charm/spell on the plane. With thanks, we departed the area. On to the next case...

SHIELA 2

SHIELA'S MISTAKE I THINK that I KNOW where Shiela went wrong, with handling our occassional "dates". First off, when she gave me a full weekend, she made too much of a point of DENYING the fact, afterward. Simple fact was that Shiela had asked my opinion, of her breasts. When I told her "From what I can see, they seem perfect". When Shiela mentioned "I wish you would tell my boyfriend that." When I asked "Why?", Shiela would tell me "He says that if I dont get quad-"D" size, that he is going to dump me, for a "real" woman." Now, although Shiela and I were "friends", we, both, agreed that there could, NEVER, be anything, between us. I wasn't her "type", and, aside from her beauty, she was not my type. Shiela wanted "Conan the Barbarian", and she would settle for nothing less. What concerned Shiela was how many other men might want a HUGE chest. For some reason, when Shiela asked if I would accept her breasts, if she offered them, she did not stop to think. When I mentioned "If you are offering, I am accepting." Shiela considered backing out, then she remembered "I AM on birth control. What harm can he do?" Shiela found out how much "trouble" I could cause, when her boyfriend cancelled a weekend date, with her. He, actually, thought that a woman, like Shiela, could not land another man, in five minutes flat. On friday, Shiela's concern began wih the fact hat I did not drink booze, with dinner. After dinner, she did not know WHAT to think, when I brushed my teeth, before kissing her, whispering "I thought you might like a fresh mouth to kiss." After Shiela used her own toothbrush, she settled into my arms, for a few moments, of soft, classical, music. After this, our clothes found her bedroom floor, and her back found the mattress. This time, however, Shiela felt that something was "different". She figured out what it was, when I did not just "stick it in". When I took my time, seducing her, until a flame became an "inferno", by the time our bodies united, Shiela found that her only hought was "I want to make this man happy." When we spent most, of friday night, making deeply passionate, romantic, love, Shiela found hat her main concern was that the weekend was passing far too quickly. While Shiela did promise me the whole weekend, she was surprised when, on saturday, when she mentioned "I have some errands to run. If all goes right, I should be back, by five." When I agreed that I had some errands to run, as well, I took her list, compared it with my, then presented another proposal. Since her mother would be taking Shiela shopping, in the family car, I suggested that Shiela take the big orders, at the big stores, and that I would handle the small stuff. The items which would take half the time to purchase as it would take, to park the car. When Sheila asked "Dont get worn out. I want some MORE, tonight." I promised. Sure enough, the plan worked. While the ladies took four hours, shopping, for food, I spent four hours riding around town, filling my packs, with purchases. Shiela would not have believed it, if she had not been there. By three p.m., all the shopping was done, and Shiela was back in my arms, taking all the "love" I could give her. By early evening, however, we had to take a break, as my stomach was growling, from need for food. For some reason, Shiela found herself NOT suggesting that we go, for "fast food", but that she could prepare something, in the house. What Shiela called a "snack", I called a meal. A meal which, afterwards, I took her into my arms, lay her back, and kissed her, deeply. As far as regrets are concerned, the main regret, that Shiela had, was allowing me o nurse her breasts. Something which, once I began, she did not want to end. On sunday, we took a break. Shiela put on the most comfortable, lace, panties, that she could find. She topped this off with a sheer baby doll, top. With this, she went about doing some house-keeping. She KNEW what was strange, about hat sunday. It was the fact that, un-like her previous men, all of whom guzzled booze, while watching sports, I drank water, and worked at her home computer. When she looked over my shoulder, saw my writing, hen said "So, you are a writer." I kissed her hand. That evening, we got in about two hours, worh of sleep. Then came monday. On monday morning, Shiela was so obsessed, with my promise, that I would say nothing, about the weekend, that I gave in, and kissed her. After that, we cleaned up, then she saw me to her door. This is when she said "Before you go..." and I took her into my arms, and gave her another, deep, kiss. I left her, lying back, and smiling, on a table-top. Now, I am not only willing to state, for the record, that I spoke to no one, about the weekend (in fact, no one even asked me) This is why, when Shiela came to me, mid-week, asking "WHO did you tell. You promised me. WHO did you tell?" When I asked "Tell WHO, about WHAT?" This is when Shiela told me "Okay, dont want to admit it. Want to play games." She, then, whispered "So can i." Standing so close that I could inhale her scent, Shiela took out my shaft, and began carressing it, even as I whispered "Be careful. We, still, want you." As she stroked me up, with one hand, her other hand found my shoulder, and "latched on" It was so beautiful that I lost all track of time, even as I slipped my hand into her pants, and, soon, both of our pants were around our ankles. When she whispered "Baby, you wouldn't dare." I slipped it into her, as she moaned. A moment later, our tongues were dancing and, thank god, the call did not come sooner. We, actually, made deeply passionate love, right there, "in public". It was afterward, when I throbbed, inside her, that she realized that I was telling the truth. Thankfully, her friends did not call, for her, until she had the chance to "collect" herself. Over the next two weekends, Shiela invited me over, to check her mail, for "important" stuff. The kind of mail which looks official, but, normally, isnt. Each saturday, after I told her which mail was important, we spent three hours, in bed. This was her way of saying "Thank You". Three hours, of pure Heaven. Three hours, of nursing those beautiful "B" cups. Three hours, DEEP, inside her body. Three, of the best hours that any saturday could contain. Still, there was the question, of WHO was "ratting us out". Who had motive, and opportunity. While I struck out, completely, it took Shiela just three weeks, to find the snitch. Since Shiela KNEW the woman was a lesbian, Shiela made her an offer. If the woman helped Shiela find the tattler, then Shiela would give the woman what she wanted. Turns out that the lesbian WAS the tattler. When Shiela asked "Why?" The woman would say "You ARE kidding, right?" When Shiela looked at the woman, the woman would say "Okay, girlfriend, but dont say I did not warn you." While Shiela listened, the woman told her "Girl, we can, all, see it. Every time you come out your door. We can tell, by that smile, that you got laid." When Shiela mentioned other men, the woman would say "Girl, I have not seen you this happy since high school let you drop out, on disability. Dont try to tell me that boy is not giving you all that you want." When Shiela would ask "Okay, so I like him. How much will silence cost?" Her friend would say "It will cost wo things. First, get off that "high horse, and admit that you love him." When Shiela would say "Fair enough". Her friend would say "Second, I want some of what you have been giving HIM. A man does not smile, like that, just from a hug, and a kiss." Shiela then spent four, LONG, hours, trying to give her friend a "taste" of what we shared. It was just so difficult, since the woman did not have a REAL shaft. After four hours, of effort, her friend said "Forget about number two. Its obvious that yours belongs to him." When the women stood up, naked, Shiela embraced the woman, kissed her, then whispered "I DO love him." Her friend said "No way, sister. That was a cop-out. I want you to admit it to our friends." When Shiela asked "At whose place?" Hre friend would ask "Wanda's place, tomorrow afternoon. Four o-clock." When Shiela asked "Anything else?", her friend would say "Get that man over here, and get LAID, as much as you can, before tomorrow afternoon." When Shiela asked "WHY?" Her friend would say "That will make it more believable." While Shiela did invite me over, it seems we lost track of time, making love, so deeply. By the time we took a break, and I remembered to ask her, Shiela smiled as she said "Right now, I dont CARE who knows." then kissed me, deeply. When Shiela next met, with her friends, the lesbian said "Okay, ladies, pay up!" The ladies doled out the cash. The next incident involved a mans shaft. Shiela thought hat she MUST have been sick, the day when a man forced her to suck his. She took it into her mouth, alright. She, then, bit it so hard, that the man wailed in pain. When Shiela departed the group, saying "I must be sick. I haven't done that since hat creep, in high school." Her friend, who had followed her, asked "Tell me, when was the last time you "tasted" your man." Shiela said "Last night", before even thinking. When her friend asked "I dont mean your "friend", I mean your man! You remember the one." Her friend noticed that Shiela had to think on that one. When Shiela asked "What should I do." Her friend said "If you think you are sick, invite that boy over, and give him every bit that you have." When Shiela would ask "What if I get sick, on him?" Her friend would say "In that case, head to bed, and rest." Her friend turned out to be correct. While the other mans shaft made Shiela feel like vomiting, she found that, with mine, she started with a kiss, and carress, then gave me two, Heavenly, blows. After that, the night was "lost" to passionate sex, and nursing. When I mentioned her other man, Shiela would say "He will call when he needs "some". Funny thing, though. When I saw him, next, he acted like he had NO woman. He was "on the prowl", looking for some. What I did not know, until later, was that, when Shiela saw him, all he said was "(get lost) you old crow. I need something fresh." That evening, Shiela rested, in my embrace, as I comforted her, promising her that I would remain by her side, until she found a new man. That was a promise, which would outlast four mattresses, seven sheet sets, and dozens of "dates", with "wannabe's". Shiela had heard every version, in the book. Everything from "I am just getting started", to "By my 35th birthday..." Shiela stayed with me since she KNEW I was working on my goals. Both in bed, and out. Best of all, I made her feel proud/happy, to be a woman. As for her friend, I encouraged Shiela to keep the friend around. Even if just for the memories, of the "old days". After all, the woman migh be a lesbian, but even lesbians have feelings. While we continued wearing ou mattresses, and sheet sets, Shiela kept going, with her search, for the "perfect" man. Problem was, the more time that passed, the less likely that she was, to even MEET him. It was at abbout this time, when Shiela found herself talking to people, not about her "Mr. Right", but about my plans, for expanding the United States. There were those, who wanted Americans o believe that my plan was to "import" more, cheap, labor. Shiela found herself countering this, with facts, more and more often. After all, who else could say "My man is looking to the nations future." Who else could say "My man is working to help America evolve." And evolve was just what the nation was doing. The United States had gone from fifty states, to fifty-seven states. More were petitioning. While Shiela had fantasized about a life of luxury, she had felt certain that it would come from "Conan". Not from a writer. Shiela never dreamed that catillions would result from people wanting to know more about me (and, as Shiela learned, about her, as well). While Shiela never thought that it would happen, this way, she did get her wish, to see Washington D.C. We were invited, to the capital, when the sixtieth state joined the union, and a new, if temporary, flag, rose on the flag pole. Shiela was trying to conceive how a man, who was more intellectual, than physical, could accomplish such a task. (Personally, I would have been THRILLED had I known how enraged my former in-laws were, at my achievements. I think I would have LAUGHED, had I known that, when students were studying American history, that parents pulled the young out of school, anytime my achievements were being lauded) Just dont ask me which fool suggested placing my face on a variety of monuments. What for? All I was doing was writing stories, and aiding my nation. I could think of thousands, of soldiers, who deserved recognition, more than I did. In order to cover more ground, Shiela agreed to serve as my "mouth-piece", at a variety of functions. This way, she could speak, at one location, while I spoke, at another. My opponents thought that they might have "had it made", since Shiela did have some past criminal records. With a bit of "doctoring", some one made it appear that Shiela had served time, at Shawshank. The actual prison. It was a good job, and might have, even, worked, except for one thing. Since Shiela knew how important the project was, to me, she insisted upon "transparency". SHE approved the release, of her court records. It worked, too. Once the truth hit the airwaves, the public was like "Who CARES what she did, in the PAST? We want to know about NOW." Add in the fact that Shawshank denied that females were ever inmates, and he opposition died away. While Shiela had, never, seriously, considered modelling, once she went "on the road", she found herself being dressed in the latest fashions. Soon, she was wearing jewelry, which only the rich wear, and she was replacing her public side walk "walk" with an uptown vibe. All of this, she was doing, while speaking of the benefits, of adding more states to the union. One, of he benefits, which Shiela never expected, was when the party took care of our state paper-work, for us. (Why not, they knew more than we did) While Shiela would, never, go down, in history, as America's First Lady, she would find herself being mentioned, much like Betsy Ross. That, and former First Lady, Dolly Madison. Two women, who had helped shape America's destiny. As our fame grew, Shiela and I asked about private tutoring, for a high school diploma. (Shiela would be the one to mention "As long as the teacher understands that I do not operate at warp speed") Surprisingly, the party had quite a number, of such tutors. It seems that tutors were proving in-valuable, in aiding people, in a variety of situations. While I was up, for testing, inside three months, I spent the next three months reviewing what I had learned, while Shiela worked toward the test. While, for most students, taking the final test, to qualify for graduation, was covered not just by drug testing, but by that "hammering-BANG", of the testing clock, our test master used a simple, digital, timer. As the test master said "DONT focus on how much time there is left. THAT is why so many students fail. Concentrate on the questions, and answers." Using this method, both Shiela and I completed the test, ahead of the deadline. Also, thanks to our doctors, drug testing would be waived, since the prescriptions, which we took, daily, would show up as street drugs. Upon OUR graduation, when the media asked our next move, I would consult Shiela, who would agree "Let us finish with state-hood, first. After that, we will decide on our next goal." While it was no ones fault, when Shiela fell ill, with a virus, and was given an antidote, the meds did eradicate the virus. Problem was, the anidote had an un-expected side effect. It rendered Shiela sterile. (Of course, I could name a medicine which, after just two doses, had ME in the E.R., with severe, stomach, cramps) A medic