Jacked Up Part 2

Of course, we didn’t just knock on doors and ask if there was a strange person living there. We used drones from a distance to see the normal days for each house. We were able to eliminate about forty this way, the residents being larger groups were seen together and touching.

We then concentrated on the ones left, doing background checks and finding out how many normally lived in the house by talking to the local gardening and cleaning firms. One stood out for me. Ingrid Farsio was a member of a well-known local criminal family, with connections to the drug trade, human trafficking and sex workers. She was notoriously aloof and had been almost a hermit for several years now, due to a case of breast cancer when she had both removed. Best of all, her house backed onto the lake edge.

All of our surveillance on her house gave no idea of who lived there. She had her food delivered and the deliveries were put inside a closed porch and we could not see who collected them. We did put one of our guys on the delivery run and he reported that there was a camera in the porch so taking our own there was out of the question. We were able to mount a small camera in a tree, some distance from the house, which gave us a good view of the drive and front door.

We then sat back on this one while we worked with the other suspect houses. One by one we were able to tick them off as just normal shy folk or criminals keeping their heads down. We did amass enough information to make about six raids once our main objective was reached. It became boring just watching for Ingrid to make a move. If she didn’t we would have to make a raid and suffer any consequences.

In the third week we had a break when a car drove into the property and pulled up. A big guy got out and went into the porch. He came out an hour later with a suitcase and put it into his car before driving out again. By the time he left we had a file an inch thick on him. He was Julio Farsio and was an enforcer for the gang. He was a regular traveller to Canada but there was nothing anyone could pin on him at this time. He was carefully followed by drone and CCTV to an apartment in the city that was close to Michigan Avenue. When the ownership was checked we found out it was owned by a shell company.

A week later he did the whole thing again, leaving with another suitcase. On the following Monday a very nice car came around the side of the house and left the property. Our camera picked up that the driver was Ingrid and she was dressed as if she was going to travel. I was sent to look around near the apartment and I was lucky enough to catch Julio leaving with a bag on each hand. I reported the event to the AIC and followed at a safe distance.

He walked to the Rosa Parks Transit Centre and put the bags down near the Tunnel Bus stop. It looked as if he may be going somewhere. Our guys who were following Ingrid reported that she had pulled into a parking garage not far away. She left the car there and started to walk towards the bus stop. I got the message through my earpiece that she had just walked away from the car, leaving the keys in the ignition. It looked as if it was her that was planning to leave.

I kept my cool waiting at another stop as I saw her walk towards Julio. I pulled out my phone and acted as if I was speaking to someone while live streaming the scene back to the office. She approached Julio from behind him and, before she tapped him on the shoulder, she took a tablet out of her bag and swallowed it with a sip of water from a small bottle. The next few seconds were surreal as I realised that I had observed a switch. Julio simply staggered a little and then bent down and picked up the bags, taking them to the Tunnel Bus that had just pulled in. He was well away from Ingrid when she staggered to a nearby bench and sat down before keeling over as if she had suffered a heart attack.

I told the AIC that I was going to follow Julio and went to the ticketing booth for a trip to Canada. He had supervised getting his two bags stowed in the under lockers and had joined the short queue to board the bus, seemingly oblivious of the paramedics now attending Ingrid. Certain that I was now following the Switcher I tried to keep my cool when I got on the bus. I knew that I would have to have a chat to the guards at the other end about carrying a couple of weapons and wearing a bullet proof vest under my leather jacket but I had my ID and I was sure that the boss had already advised the Canadians that we were coming.

When I got on the bus I saw that Julio had taken a seat near the back and had spread himself out to discourage other passengers joining him. I took a seat nearer the front and again took out my phone and mimed a call. I knew that the office could see where Julio was now sitting. I heard the AIC in my ear, telling me to keep my cool and that he would organise a welcoming committee in Windsor. Just before the bus was due to leave I saw a very good looking woman ready to get on the bus. At the same time a guy who had sat in the back got up and rushed by me and jumped off, almost bowling her over before heading into the terminal. As she got on I noticed that she not only looked good but also looked lethal as I could tell she was carrying. I got up and smiled at her, offering her my seat as I could then go to sit behind Julio.

The bus had just pulled away from the stop when I felt a sudden pressure on my back, forcing me to fall on the girl. Then there was a tremendous blow to the back of my head and everything went black as we fell together. I had heard stories about near-death experiences from injured guys in the army. They had reported choirs of angels singing soothing songs, brilliant lights and even the whiff of sulphur if they were less than good. No-one had said that there would be total blackness and no sound whatsoever.

As my senses came back to me I felt that something was wrong. I felt like I had been in an explosion and then realised that it probably had been. The guy who had rushed off the bus was probably the bomber and he had left something under the seat as he left. I had to give him the timing. What he didn’t know was that he would be in full view when I sent my pictures of Julio. I expect that the Switcher would be now dead and no longer a problem. I had seen his last switch. I did not feel like me, yes, I know I was probably injured and should feel bad but realised that I was laying on my back and there were only a few spots there that I could feel dressings on. If it had been an explosion my back would have caught the brunt of it. When I tried to move my fingers they felt different and when I curled them it felt like I had grown talons. Oh No! I have died and become a devil or, maybe, an imp!

There must have been a monitor on my heartbeat as all of a sudden I felt a rush of something nice and fell into a deep sleep. I have no idea of how long I was out but, when I did come back into awareness, it was no longer totally dark and I could hear some sounds; mainly a regular beep and some voices talking. Someone was talking about a girl called Anita and I wanted to tell them that she will be all right as I had not seen her during my time in the nether worlds. I must have been really drugged up to think of something like that. At this thought I gave a little giggle and a guy with a face mask leaned over me and said something about being glad I was back in the land of the living.

If this was living I thought that I would be better off with the alternative but kept my peace. He took hold of my hand and asked me if I could squeeze and, when I did he said “Good, now I am going to ask you a few questions and you just need to squeeze once for yes and two for no. Do you understand?” I squeezed once.

He then asked his questions –

“Do you know your name?” One squeeze.

Is it Anita Marianne Jackson?” Two squeezes.

“Is it Jack Ryan?” One squeeze.

He then thanked me and did something to a drip that caused me to fall into another deep sleep. However, during this sleep I had some vivid dreams where I was a girl, growing up in a military family and dating boys. I dreamed of pets that I had loved and a family I had loved even more. And then my dream took me to a horrible place when my whole family had died in a terrorist attack while they were flying across the Middle East. This was weird as my parents were still alive, last time I looked, and I had never owned a pet in my life. When I next woke I could feel the tears in my eyes and I wondered who I really was now.

Marianne G 2021

Jacked Up Part 3

Next time I came to there was a nurse beside me checking all of the tubes and drips. When she saw my open eyes she exclaimed “Oh good, honey, you are awake. I can now get you to see what moves again and what doesn’t without those rough doctors trying to bend you into odd shapes.”

“That guy that saved your life gave you a hell of a bruise on your forehead but the swelling is going down and I think it won’t be long before you are beautiful again.” While she was fussing about I considered what she had said and realised that somehow I had switched with the woman on the bus. I decided that I would not say anything in case she was not to know. I also decided that I would cry, which I did. The nurse put her arm around my shoulder and gave my eyes a wipe with a tissue every now and again as I blubbed for some minutes.

When I dried up she helped me get my face in order and said that I had been very brave, as would have been expected of a government agent, but it was all right to let it out in private. I asked about the government agent bit and she said that I must be with an armed guard on the door and visitations from lots of people with the obvious look of G Men. She lifted my pillow section of the bed and started to brush my hair. That was weird as last time I looked I had a buzz cut. All the time she chatted, telling me exactly what had been wrong with me.

It seems that I had been hit hard on my forehead and scraped parts of my back when we went down. They had been getting me to stay quiet as there had been a gasoline/gel mix in the bomb and the bus had been filled with flame for several seconds. She told me that I was the least injured of the occupants as several, who had survived the actual blast, had been badly injured by bits of seating and the nuts and bolts that were also in the bomb.

After she had freshened me up a bit; the door opened and my old AIC entered with a big briefcase. He told the nurse that we needed to be alone and she left. He then said that I was not to talk too much and he would answer as many of my questions as he could. I nodded and he reached into the bag and pulled out a tablet. Turning it on he held it so I could see and then he showed me the feed that I had taken. He pointed out the bit where Ingrid took the pill and told me that it was a quick acting drug that stopped the heart, so looking like she had actually had a heart attack.

He then froze the picture that showed Julio about to board the bus and there, in line, was the bomber with a large back-pack. The picture then changed to CCTV from the bus security system and I watched as the bomber got up and walk quickly past me and the girl as he got off. I then saw me smile and gesture for her to take my seat when behind me the whole bus exploded. He then had a clip in ultra-slow motion and I watched myself die. What had hit me in the back of the head as I was pushed into the girl was the Switchers head.

He then allowed me time for a sip of water and said “Look, you are in the body of the girl and all the people in our office who have seen this have agreed that somehow the power of the switcher was passed to you in the instant you and her were in contact. We know that his power is no more because a lot of medical folk have touched you afterward without being taken over. As far as the world is concerned Jack Ryan was a hero who died in the explosion protecting Anita Jackson. This is really true because if any of the bits of shrapnel that riddled his body had made it to you there would have not been a chance that you would be alive.”

I asked him to pass me the tissues and he waited until I felt better. I said quietly that I had realised we had semi-switched because I had dreamed it the last time I was asleep. He looked astonished and asked me what I meant so I told him that we did not, in fact, switch and there were parts of Anita still in my head as I had dreamed of bits of her history. He sat back and just said “Amazing!” I told him to look at the video again and pointed out that the switcher was obviously dead when his head hit me so there was no chance that he could have orchestrated a switch. It must have been a residue of his powers that was projected from me to her in the moment his head hit the back of mine, and mine hitting her forehead, taking my memories with it.

Her own memories were just starting to appear but I had not seen any evidence of her personality yet but I knew that she was a woman with a steel spine as she had gone through a lot with the death of her family. “That does it” he said “there is no way you would have known that fact. It is one of the things I have here in this folder. You need to read it and make sure you have it down pat as I am going to order you, here and now, to take over her body, mind and future and to grieve on the loss of Jack Ryan as his parents did at his funeral. It was, of course, a heroes sending off with full military honours as well as the Director giving a speech that no-one understood.”

I asked why and was told that Anita was a trusted agent in Homeland Security and, as such, privy to a lot of things that HS did not want aired in public. He wanted me to find out all about their more nefarious activities that had started in earlier years while under an unscrupulous President and the F.B.I. had an open file on that arm of the government. The problem was that they could not be infiltrated as they had files on everyone in the other police agencies. “Hey” he said “who better to get their secrets than a dead agent hiding in the body of one of their own.” He told me that all references to the Switcher had been erased from my recent activities and it now looked as if I was alerted by the attitude of the bomber, unaware that he was about to do the deed.

He then told me that due to my video, the bomber had been tracked on CCTV and had died in a shoot-out with the police, along with several of his accomplices. It was understood that there was no way I could have altered the situation or save any more lives. He then told me a site where I could do a drop but that, after today, I was on my own. That said, he took my hand and kissed the back of it, saying “Goodbye for now, Anita, I look forward to meeting you again in better circumstances. Perhaps I will be able to take you to dinner one evening.”

After he left I closed my eyes and wondered at the strange idea of my AIC wanting to take me out on a date. Mind you, although I did not have a mirror on hand, I did have the memory of seeing myself as others see me and realised that I was hot. That being the case, did I have boyfriends, or worse still, boyfriends with benefits?

When the nurse came back I asked her if any of my belongings had survived the explosion and she told me that the only thing that was in the room was my bag and my gun with its holster. She said that the flame had singed my outer clothes but my underwear was in a drawer, along with my shoes and jewellery. She said that she had been told that clothes would be brought in when I was cleared to leave. I asked for my bag and she pulled it out of a locker and put it on the bed beside me.

As soon as she left I pulled the notebook from under my butt and put it in my bag, also taking the opportunity to look through the contents. I had various permits to carry and my HS badge, along with a lapel badge that I knew some CIA operatives wore when they were back in Langley or on overseas deployment within safe US bases. I had met a few and shared some drinks with a couple while in Afghanistan and knew that they did not like anyone to think that the lapel badge was so that they would not shoot each other.

This was getting interesting. I had my evening meal while sitting up, OK, it was only soup but it tasted like heaven, most unusual for hospital food. When the night nurse settled me down and all was quiet I took the notebook out of my bag and started to study. It was the weirdest feeling to start at ‘my’ birth and I had not got very far before I started to picture the people mentioned, both as they were at the time and also as they were today. My reading was awakening the spirit inside.

Anita had, like me, been an avid student of political history and had graduated with Honours. She – no, I – had been recruited by the CIA as my father was an Ambassador who had been in both the South Korean Embassy but also in Saudi Arabia for a while. He had been a good friend of a certain unusual President and, as such, I had been given a fast track into the spook life, something that, with my love of political history, I had relished. Towards the end of that short-lived administration, I had been told to keep my CIA involvement quiet and was moved to Homeland Security with a brief to make sure that the secrets the President wanted kept quiet, remained quiet.

Of course, only the bare bones was in the notebook, as I was reading I was filling out the gaps from my own memory and the AIC would have been staggered to find out that I was already a mole in HS, but not for the forces of good. I had another look at the various papers in my bag and, when I looked in a secret pocket in my wallet, I found the permit with a Presidential seal that allowed me to kill on his behalf should anyone look like they were about to spill the beans. With all of the things that HS had been involved in over the recent past I was sure there would be plenty of beans waiting to be spilt. This was a bit heavy and I put everything back in the bag and put the bag under the covers beside me before falling into a fitful sleep.

Marianne G 2021

Jacked Up Part 4

I had a most unusual dream which cleared up a few things while, at the same time, complicated matters. In my dream I had a conversation with myself. OK, it was Jack and Anita talking but, hey, who can tell them apart these days.

Firstly, it seemed like there were two people in my head, with Anita asking what the hell I was doing in there. However, when I started to explain how the coupling of minds occurred, she said that it was all right, she understood it now, as if just my memories were instantly linked to hers. I understood that she was not the Presidential pawn he had thought she was and that this was similar to a lot of people she had met while in his employ. It seemed that you really had to screw the pooch to get fired or else get to the limit of your ethics.

When she discovered my own military history she was a little overawed by someone who had actually killed in the heat of combat and did not just carry a permit to do so. Then we had a long, and interesting, session thinking about our sex lives, with us both learning a lot about the other half of the worlds’ population. By the time I woke up, we were Anita with a wealth of experience and understanding of our future as well as a feeling of intense horniness. Her side now wanting to explore the act with an intimate knowledge of how to improve male participation, and my side just wanting to get laid, so I could have first-hand knowledge of those incredible orgasms that she remembered.

Before the morning nurse came in I took the notebook out of my bag and tore the pages into small pieces, dropping them into the waste bin beside the bed; I did not need it now as I had the original memories to work with. After my breakfast I was visited by the doctor who authorised most of the pipes to be removed and for me to be able to get out of bed. This made me almost delirious; thinking about a hot shower and hair-wash. A couple of the tube removals were not nice but it did allow me to pee in private again. I was happy that all of the unwanted bits went into the bin-bag along with the paper fragments, to be sealed for disposal in the incinerator.

I was then helped to get out of bed and to take some tottering steps into the shower, where a nurse helped me as I sat in a shower chair using a hand-held nozzle. It was absolute heaven to feel clean and to have my hair washed. It took over an hour before I was dry, powdered and blow dried and given a towelling robe to wear I was allowed to sit in a chair while my bed was changed. I had lunch with a tray on my lap and was given a new hospital gown and helped back into bed, something I was glad to do as I felt worn out from the exertion.

I had not long settled when the door opened and a large man with a worried expression on his face came in. He asked the nurse to leave and sat beside my bed and asked me what had happened. I gathered that he had only been advised that I was in hospital after the AIC had completed his business. I told him as much as I could, saying that I had been heading for Canada to talk to a guy they had detained on his way into the USA when the bus had exploded. I told him that a guy had stood to offer me a seat and that his body had shielded me from the worst of the explosion but he had hit me with some force when the blast hit him on his back. I said that I did not know any more than what the nurses have told me but that I should be grateful to be alive.

The man, who I deduced was a high ranking HS officer, then told me that I was to make sure I was fully healed before leaving the hospital. He gave me a card with just a phone number printed on it and told me to ring it when I was about to leave so that he could organise transport. He said that someone would go to my apartment and pick out some clothes for me. I told him that Juliette Fellows from my office would be able to do that and for her to come in so I could let her know where to find things. I wasn’t going to tell him my security codes as he had not even given me his name when he left, Even the CIA told you who they were, even if it wasn’t their real name, there is a time for a little politeness.

The next day Juliette came in and we sat for a while. She was the only one in the office I trusted as we had often discussed our worries about the Department. I told her a security code which I had set up as a once-only use for situations like this. I made sure to tell her to get everything needed in the one take as she would not be able to get back in again. She told me that there had been a lot of worry in the office after I had been off the radar for a couple of days and that she had been told that our boss had only been told where I was once I had recovered consciousness.

Even though he had a real-time heads-up of the bombing, I had to give it to the AIC as he had kept everything close to his chest regarding serving agents at the location. This had given him the chance to find out about Anita being there and draw the correct evaluation. I know he had been on the Switcher case for a long time so shouldn’t be surprised at his line of thinking. Anita was surprised by the whole Switcher thing, not knowing just how many people had been relocated in a smooth edition of a witness protection scheme.

The following evening Juliette brought me the items I had asked for as well as my post. During the day I had my dressings on my back taken off and replaced with large Band-Aids that I was told to keep on for a week. It was going to be fun finding someone to pull them off; I did have a couple of guys in mind. I was moving well now and the doctor said that I needed to be in for a couple more days to have a few physio and psycho sessions to ensure that I was 100% fixed and certain I did not have concussion. After the two days they removed the attachments still on my arms should I need further drips and everyone gave me a clean bill of health. I rang the number I had been given, telling them that I would be coming out at midday the next day.

The next day I had my breakfast, made sure I had a good shower, dressed for the prevailing weather in Detroit (which was to be cool and cloudy), made sure my pistol harness fitted without scraping the Band-Aids, put all of my bits and pieces in my bag and went down to reception. While I was checking out, a couple of guys from the office walked in and my heart sank when I saw them. They were the two most ‘toady’ guys who were the bosses helpers. This was not looking good.

They walked either side of me as we went to the car waiting at the kerb. I did not ask where we were going but was a little surprised to arrive at my apartment block. One of them told me to go in and pack everything I needed for a long time away in a warmer climate as I had been transferred. Someone higher up the HS chain had decided that I was needed elsewhere. They said I had an hour and they would come up and carry my bags for me – “All part of the service.”

What made me think was that they were not being their usual bullying selves but seemed a little overawed with me. I quickly packed everything, including all of my spare weapons and ammunition and was ready when they knocked on the door, two large cases carrying all of my possessions. They told me to leave my keys on the dresser and they would sort out the lease after I had left. They took a case each and we went down to the car. Half an hour later I found myself in a line of airline passengers heading for Boston.

When I had retrieved my cases and put them on a trolley, I left the luggage area to see a uniformed Army Officer with a board with my name on. When I reported to him he directed me to follow him out of the building where an armed soldier guarded a Humvee. The officer helped me put my cases in the back and we were off. I knew not to ask any questions because I knew that he would only have been told to pick me up and deliver me somewhere else. What did surprise me was, after about three quarters of an hour, that we arrived at the gates of Hanscom Air Force Base.

The officer showed his ID and another. The sentry saluted and, as we drove in, the officer gave me a package and an ID on a lanyard. Looking at it I found that I was now Major Anita Jackson of the USAF with an ID that looked to be pretty high in the security levels. We drove straight out to the flight line and pulled up next to a sleek Lear Jet with a military paintjob. He helped me out of the Humvee and a couple of privates took my bags and stowed them on board. Before I walked to the aircraft steps he said “I don’t want to know what you do for a living, lady, but I wish you the best of luck where you are headed.” He got back into the Humvee and they drove back towards the base gates, leaving me wondering just what I had been sidelined into now.

Marianne G 2021

Jacked Up Part 5

I was the only passenger on the plane and the only others were the two pilots. It did not take long for us to get permission to take off and we did it on full power, it felt very impressive. We flew south and eventually circled a massive military base. When we landed the heat was oppressive, especially for someone who had dressed for a Detroit day.

One of the pilots un-dogged the door and let the steps down. As I moved to get off he said “Welcome to Elgin Air Force Base, lady; although I think that you may be heading next door.” A jeep came up to the plane and a soldier in hot weather combat dress with no insignia got out and helped get my luggage on board. He told me to get in and we set off away from the flight line. I was staggered by the number and variation of aircraft that stretched into the distance. We ended up at another set of gates where we showed our ID’s and the sentry saluted us both as we drove in.

“Welcome to Hurlburt Field, Major. Here we do the things that we tell everyone we would never think of doing. I am told that this will be your home for the next six months, should you last the distance.” We pulled up at the admin building and he told me that my bags would be taken to my quarters but that I should now go inside and ask to see Major General Johannsen. When I walked into the building I was confronted by a couple of armed sentries who requested that I put any weapons I was carrying into a box which they said would be held for me until I left.

They did not turn a hair when I pulled out my pistol, ejected the magazine and jacked the round out of the chamber. Or when I reached down to pull out the .38 that was in an ankle holster. When I pulled my jumper off with relief and unstrapped the throwing knives on my arms they did show some surprise but did not pass any comment. I was then asked to go through a metal detector. When that proved that I had nothing else but my jewellery I was given a button to clip on my lapel. I was told that this would open any doors I was allowed to pass through and would also track where I was in the building.

They gave me the directions to Major General Johannsen and let me in. The Anita in me was amazed at the level of security but I had seen it before in the more secure bases overseas. I expected this Johannsen to be a grizzled veteran and was surprised to find that he was only in his fifties and looked like a healthy university teacher. I saluted him and he told me to be at ease and sit down. He then asked me to show him my ID’s and permits, which I did. He looked through them and then said “I believe there is one you have not shown me Major Jackson. It is imperative that you show me this or else you will be escorted to the outside of the base and left by the side of the road.”

I pulled out my wallet and extracted the permit from the then-President. He looked at this and smiled. “All present and correct, Major, you will now be given some training that this permit says you are allowed to have in order to fulfil its intention. Here we take bright young boys and turn them into well-educated and erudite killing machines. You are now a student at the USAFSOS, the Special Operations School. We train all sorts of people in what we call Irregular Warfare and, on the way, give you intensive training in Regional and Cultural Expertise. I have been instructed to make sure that you take the courses set in the Middle East. You will also get intensive training in Arabic while you are here but, in order to graduate we need you to stay alive as a lot of our combat sessions are live fire. As you have just survived a terrorist bombing I expect that loud bangs will not make you flinch too much. Any questions?”

I said, “Just the one, sir. Who ordered my posting?” He smiled and told me that the order had come from outside Homeland Security and that I had been asked for by a four-star general who had been well placed in an earlier administration. I realised that the deposed President still wanted to make his mark in the world and wondered who it was that he wanted me to kill. Perhaps he, or his minions, had looked at my record and not realised that my original postings were as a favour for the family of friends and not based on actual experience, something that was very common in his tenure.

He gave me all of my accreditation and said I was dismissed, adding “You do not look like you could swat a fly, madam, and that must surely be your greatest disguise.” I saluted him and left. Back at reception I reloaded my pistol and put it back in the holster but put the others in my bag. Carrying my jumper, I was directed to another office where I was issued with a hot-weather combat uniform which was the usual dress around the base. I was shown a cubicle to change in and, with my other clothes in a paper bag I was shown the door outside where my earlier driver was waiting for me. “Very fetching, Major, I will take you to your quarters. There is a base map there and I expect that you will be ready for chow soon, the mess hall is only a short walk or an even shorter jog.” He was smiling when he said this but I knew there was truth behind the smile. I expected I would be meeting him often in the next few months as I reckoned that he would be my personal trainer.

In my quarters I found my bags and a full range of kit. There were a couple more hot weather uniforms as well as a dress uniform. I now had several pairs of boots and sneakers as well as army issue underwear and exercise gear. I took everything off and had a shower before redressing with the army issue outfit only. I knew that lacy bras and pants did not work in this environment. I then unpacked some of my own clothes, especially my nightwear and various bottles of creams and lotions. I then sat down with a pair of nail clippers and shortened my fingernails to a workable military standard with the Anita me getting a little upset at this before I visualised some situations where long nails could get her killed in the field.

I had one thing in my favour here, and that was that they saw Anita as a dainty young woman while inside there was a veteran combat soldier. I was sure that there would be a concerted push to be very nice and helpful with the target to spit me out of the system as quickly as they could, perhaps on my own two feet but maybe in a body bag. It mattered not to the particular part of the army I now lived in. I was lucky that Anita had been a fitness person and we had a chance when it came to the physical side of the training.

I walked to the mess hall for early chow and as soon as I sat down at a vacant table, I saw my driver getting his tray. Either I was being watched or else my kit had trackers sewn into it, probably the latter. He came over and asked if he could sit with me and I said that it would be all right as long as he found the time to introduce himself. He laughed and said that it was an ingrained trait around this base to be secretive and that no-one wore any insignia of rank or a name badge. He told me he was Major Quinn and that he had been assigned as my trainer while I was here. As we ate he said that we would be going through weapons training first, then some physical fitness evaluations and then I would start the other training once I passed the initial basics.

He looked sad when I said “Oh, I see I am not really wanted here and you would like me out of the base in a week or less.” He then thought a bit and said “Major Jackson, what I am going to say is not to go beyond this table. You are not the first with a particular permit that has crossed my path recently. Someone must be looking for a ‘true patriot’ for a particular job and I am sorry to say the ones that went before you did not pass the first day. They were all ‘friends of friends’ and had been given their permits more as a joke between the supporters of the administration rather than any actual ability. You do come with your CIA and Homeland Security background so you are a long way ahead of the others already but I fully expect to be driving you to the gates before the week is out.”

When we had finished our meal and took our trays back to the counter for washing he said “We start now, maybe you can be somewhere nicer tomorrow night. The range is not far away but you and I will do a five mile jog to get there, OK?” I had expected something like this so had limited my intake during the meal. We left the mess and he broke into a jog with me alongside him. I know that he expected me to keel over soon but I stayed with him the whole way. Both of us inside my brain were happy to be running, me especially with this fit young body at my command.

When we reached the range he stopped at the indoor shooting range and stood for a few moments getting his breath back. He finally smiled and we went inside. We were shown a vacant spot where there were targets set up at various distances. On the table there was a selection of side arms with ammunition. He ordered me to take my time as this was not a race but to select a weapon for the closest targets, load it and fire. Then I was to select a weapon for each of the targets going away. He then said that when I had finished firing I was to field strip each weapon and lay them on the table stripped. He then gave me a set of ear protectors and a pair of safety glasses and said “Go ahead, make my day.”

I looked at the targets and then at the weapons. There was a short-nose .38 so loved by the earlier G-men because of the ease of carrying but useless unless you were standing next to the barn door. The .45 Glock was a lovely weapon and would be perfect for the middle range targets but the H&K automatic pistol had the longest barrel and, in single shot mode, would be good for the longer ranges. I put on my protective equipment and called for the range to go live and the range officer, who had joined us, called it live. I picked up the .38, loaded it and took out the first three targets – heart and head, heart and head, heart and head.

While I stripped the weapon the range officer hauled the targets in and took them off the clips, marking them with ‘Major J’. I then loaded the Glock and did the same to the next three targets which were reeled in while I stripped the weapon. When I loaded up the H&K I noticed that they had supplied high-load ammunition which gave an extra kick when fired so was ready for that when I took out the furthest three targets. While these were being reeled in I stripped the H&K and was then told to stand by as, when they had been unclipped, there was a single target right at the end of the range, far too far away for any of the guns supplied.

The range officer handed me a .44 magnum, the ‘Dirty Harry’ model, and one bullet. He said “This is just a little game of mine, no pressure. I have a standing bet with my fellow officers that one of the recruits will hit the target somewhere. So far I have lost every time and no-one will be upset if you follow the tradition.” I hefted the gun, a truly large lump of metal, to get the feel of it and then loaded the one round. Cocking back the hammer I took the marksman stance and brought the gun up at a steady speed, firing as the sights hit the centre of the target and keeping the upswing with the recoil. I then ejected the case and put the gun on the table, stepping back and taking off the glasses and protectors.

Major Quinn reeled the target in while the range officer smiled at me. I had put the shot inside the rings, not at the centre but close enough for his bet to be won. He looked at Major Quinn and said “I think this is one-nil to Major J, Q, I may follow you out to round two, care to double the bet?”

Marianne G 2021

Jacked Up Part 6

Round Two was, of course, outside on the long gun range. As we left the building the range officer gave a trooper the bundle of targets and told him to start a file for Major Jackson and then tidy up in the range.

It was early evening and we still had an hour or so of good light but the better thing was that the evening stillness had started. This would make it much easier to put a long shot into the rings. Major Quinn led me to a firing point where there was a standard issue assault rifle and a long gun with a big telescopic sight that I realised was a sniper weapon. The Major said “This one is straight forward. We want you to field strip the rifle and reassemble it before loading up a full magazine. You are then to take the prone firing position and we will allow you one test shot. I will be looking through the telescope and will advise you of the placing. You can then adjust the weapon and put another five shots into the target. This one will be timed.

He gave me a count down and at zero I field stripped the rifle. It was a good job I had taken some care with my nails this afternoon. After reassembling it, I checked the sights and reset them to what I thought would work, pushed in a magazine and dropped into the prone position to line up and take the first sighting shot. “Low left inside the fourth ring” was the report so I made a click adjustment on the sight and laid down my next five. Getting up I ejected the magazine and the one in the breech before laying the gun on the table. Major Q beckoned to the range officer to have a look at the target through the lens and he whistled when he looked. “All five inside the middle two rings” he said, “Well done Major Jackson, admirable shooting.”

“One last task tonight” he then said. “You have just given me another win in my betting spree and I will show my regard for your shooting by doubling up on the result of your long shot ability.” He then showed me the workings of the sniper rifle, something I had never shot in my thirty years in the service. The ammo was humungous! He pointed out the target which looked as if it was set in the next county and told me that I would get three shots. He had already calibrated the sights this afternoon and I should be able to put the first on the target if I try hard.

I got down in the prone position and took my time making myself comfortable. The weird part was that having breasts helped slightly as it raised my upper body slightly. Putting the first cartridge in I took a good look at the target. The sights brought it into high relief and I settled myself and calmed my breathing. I knew it would have kick seeing the size of the ammo so was not totally surprised when I did fire. The first one was level with the bull but on the outer. There must have been a slight breeze during the afternoon. I made a very slight adjustment and then fired my second, which was inside the second ring. My third was almost opposite on the other side of the bull but both holes were on the edge of the bull. At that distance I thought I had done well.

When I stood up and put the weapon back on the table the range officer held his hand out to shake mine. He said “I think that you are a killing machine pretending to be a tabby cat, young lady. If the rest of your basics go like this old Q here will not be getting any furlough for the next six months. I thank you for leaving me with a big win.” I said “thank you, Sir” and we exchanged salutes. Not to be outdone completely, Major Quinn and I had a five mile jog back to my quarters. When he left me at the door he said “O five hundred, here, in full combat kit. You’ll get breakfast afterwards.”

I stripped off and showered, got my nightie on and went straight to bed, setting the alarm for O four hundred. After the two runs I was really tired and went off like a light, only waking to the sound of the alarm and needing a trip to the toilet. I had another shower and started to dress. It does not pay to take short cuts when getting into combat gear; there are times that you may be wearing it for days on end. I put on the heavy duty sports bra that almost flattened my breasts and made sure I had a pad in my panties. A plain grey tee shirt followed and then a bullet-proof vest and a camo shirt over the top. I put on two pairs of socks and the camo pants with lots of pockets. I took a lot of time getting the boots right as you really do not have time to rearrange them under fire and you do need to be able to move quickly.

The Anita in me was a bit querulous when I put on a second flak jacket and followed it up with the usual weapons harness and I assured her that everything will reveal its usefulness when we get out there, I was sure that Q had a real test for me today. Its not that we chat, it is a feeling I get from her memories that I can offer a feeling in reply. By O five hundred I was ready and standing outside when Q pulled up in a Humvee. He got down and inspected my appearance. “Major J,” he said “you are something else again. There is nothing in your docket that shows time in the military but you have now turned out two days in a row in the correct kit for the task I am about to put you through. Is there anything that you have done in your short life that isn’t in the paperwork?”

I said that the CIA did not note all of the things I had been trained in and I had not remained a secretary all the time. That seemed to placate him and he motioned me to get into the Humvee and we drove out to the edge of the base. We stopped at the base ‘playground’, the assault training range. Pulling up at a cabin we got out and went in. There was a table with a selection of weapons, including grenades, as well as a helmet with a go-pro camera mounted on it. He took me to the window and said “There is a barn over there, it is about a thousand yards away and, between here and there is a killing field. We will be using live ammo and you do need to stay alive today if you want to continue. I promise that, after this, we will go to more normal training. Your task is to make it to the barn and get inside. However, on the way we will be putting up targets that you need to eliminate.”

I took my time looking at the ‘suicide run’. To the left there was a water tank about two seconds from the door and then about two seconds to a high wall that ran about a third of the way to the barn. On the left was a low bank about twenty inches high that stopped a little before the other one. It looked like it would need about four seconds to get down behind it. The rookie would take the water tank and high wall but that would leave you in sight of any fire coming in from the high ground off to the right. I looked at the table and put on the helmet. There was an item that looked like a mobile phone and, when I turned it on, along with the go-pro, I was rewarded with a picture of what was in front of me. Major Q stayed quiet while I did all this.

I clipped a couple of grenades to my weapons belt, around the side as I knew I would be spending some time on my belly, and strapped on a sidearm after checking it. I noticed that it had wad-cutter rounds on it that did not have penetration power. The only thing needed now was to check out the assault rifle, load it up and get going. I took another look outside; now looking at the firing points up to the right, then went to the door. Major Q said “It opens outward J, good luck. The incoming is all automated and whatever you do will not kill anyone.”

Taking a few deep breaths I barged through the door and headed a bit further right and then veered left, diving to get behind the low bank. As I expected, the incoming took a couple of seconds to calculate my direction and the first bullets hit the ground along my original direction, passing through the space I would have been if I had not veered. I crawled along for several yards and then took my helmet off to pop the camera above the rim of the bank. Panning around I saw the target that had popped up showing the source of the first incoming fire. As I panned I saw another on pop up very close to me and bullets kicked up dirt as they ranged along the top of the bank. As I had a good idea of where this target was I rolled on my back and pulled a grenade from my webbing. I pulled the pin and threw the grenade from my lying position and quickly went back on my stomach and, as the grenade went off on the second target, I popped up and gave the first a short spray before diving back behind my cover.

I used the camera again to check that I had eliminated the two targets and saw that there were no more yet to be seen. I crabbed my way to the end of the bank and then used the camera to look to my left first without seeing any danger. To the right the ground now sloped away so the enemy no longer had high ground. In front of me were a variety of wrecked vehicles between me and the barn and, more of a worry, the ground seemed to be pockmarked with what looked like filled-in bomb craters. It looked like I needed to do the final distance at a run with likely gunfire from the left and either mortar fire coming down or maybe just explosives already set in the ground to throw me off.

Now looking at the barn I saw that a door was ajar and this would be my destination. I didn’t trust Q as far as I could throw him and it could be that there was more danger when I got inside, thinking that I was safe. The whole thing was a way to mess with your mind and the only way to defeat them was to never consider yourself safe until you were told you were able to stand down.

Marianne G 2021

Jacked Up Part 7

Inspecting the ground in front of me I saw that there was a nice big tank just off to my right and a closer truck to my left with a couple of other trucks beyond that. The trucks were tempting but there was space underneath them where bullets could easily take out your legs.

Beyond the tank it was a straight run to the door of the barn. The only real obstacle was a water hazard. The ground either side of this was clear and I knew it was another trap for the lazy. It looked as if I was going to get wet today. I popped my head up and then dropped again to the ground, hoping that I would not get shot at again. I then did the ‘trench periscope’ thing with the helmet cam and did not see any other targets that had popped up.

Getting up on my knees I braced myself for a sprint to the tank, with a bit of zig-zag thrown in. As I launched the first of the explosions happened in a depression to my right. This was supposed to draw my attention because, as I looked to the left, I saw three targets pop up and incoming rounds that seemed to assume that I was heading for the first truck. As I ran for the tank I fired several two-shot bursts at the targets, being grateful that I saw the last one fold down as I reached the lee of the tank. I reloaded the rifle with a new magazine but kept the old one in a pouch. All the time now there were spouts of dirt flying up around me as the mock shelling carried on.

I didn’t stop but set off again straight for the water hazard which only proved to be a foot deep and also the right way to go as the space either side of it erupted in explosions. As I cleared it I saw a couple of targets pop up on one side of the barn so I took these out on the run. As I got to the side of the barn I allowed the rifle to be carried on its sling while I pulled a grenade and my sidearm. I pulled the pin from the grenade and tossed it through the door, following it after it had gone off. Inside there was a stack of straw bales and a guy in a bullet-proof suit and a balaclava was at each end, both looking a little hazy. I did not hesitate and fired two into each body which knocked them on their backs. Those wad cutters did not penetrate but they did have a hell of a kick to them.

Just then I heard Major Quinn call out for me to stand down as the task was over and he walked out of a side door taking off his ear protectors. He had one of those big grins on his face that says that he was enjoying this and I found out why when we helped the other two to their feet and they took off their balaclavas. One was the Range Officer and the other was the Commanding Officer – I had shot a two-star General! A couple of troopers followed Major Quinn and he ordered them to take all of the weapons from us and give them a clean before returning them to the armoury. The one who took my weapons gave me a big wink as he did so. I guess that the new legend of the General-killing dame was just about to start the rounds of the camp. I should think that everyone would know about it before we even got out of the barn.

The Range Officer and the General were both having a hard time hearing; I guess that they did not expect to be sharing a room with a grenade. While Major Quinn fussed over them I took time out to inspect my own body. As to be expected I was wet to the knees and the dust had collected there as well. I had dirt covering most of the rest of me and, when I took off the flak jacket, I noticed nicks and tears where I had been hit with bits of shrapnel. I had a few nicks on my neck below the helmet rim but, otherwise, came through it unscathed. I waited quietly until the officers were able to get some idea of what was going on and the first words the General said was “That is the last time you talk me into these games, Q, my reputation will be mud by now and I may have to take some stick from the guys at Elgin when they hear about this. You, Major Jackson, are death on legs and I bow to your skill. I am just glad that we were behind the hay bales when that grenade dropped in our laps, I think that I need to go now and change my underwear. Come and see me in my office tomorrow at Ten Hundred and I will give you the gist of what I have been told about your future task.”

We saluted him as he made his way through the door leading to the back of the barn and his waiting transport. The Range Officer then held out his hand for me to shake and said that the morning had given him almost enough winnings to retire on but none of it had been as good as seeing a decorated General being knocked on his arse by a wad cutter in the chest. “We are both going to have some livid patches for a couple of weeks, thank you for not putting a round into our heads.” He then gave us both a salute as he followed the General to his own transport.

Major Quinn looked at me and we both broke down laughing. “Oh, shit!” he exclaimed “this has been the funniest couple of hours I have had in a long time. Those two had been Unit Commanders in Afghanistan but I don’t think that either of them had looked at death so closely before. ‘Mad Bull’ Johannsen is going to have a hard time living this down and there are a few around this mans’ army who will be happy to bring it up whenever they can. Today made it worth signing on for another five years. Now, J, how about I drive you back to the hospital so you can have those cuts looked at and then you had better go to your quarters and change into hot weather camos and get your breakfast, I am sure you will need it by then.”

“Thank you, Q,” I said, “I will take your advice. What is my schedule for the rest of the day?” “You get the rest of the day off but I suggest you go to the base library and look up all you can find on the Middle East, especially terrorist activity, for the period between 2017 and 2023, because that is the base of what you will be told tomorrow” he said “I do not know of the detail but that is the subject matter that we have been told to teach whoever got this far.”

We went out to his Humvee and he drove me to the hospital, telling me to leave the helmet and flak jacket in the vehicle as I got out. He drove off and I walked into the reception where a nurse took me by the arm and said “I have touched a legend!” before leading me to a side room to check me over. When I left I had some band aids on the cuts and some liniment where we could see I would bruise, especially on the elbows and knees. I walked back to my quarters carrying the bullet-proof vest. The shirt had gone in the bin. I had a good shower and redressed in clean kit and then went to the mess. When I walked in there were about twenty troopers there who all stood up and applauded me. I grinned and gave an exaggerated bow before going to get a hearty breakfast.

Thankfully, they left me in peace while I had a well-deserved feed. It didn’t stop them throwing me salutes as they slowly left, leaving me alone at my table. It was then that another soldier walked in and came up to my table. Although he didn’t have insignia, I could tell, by his aura, that he was high ranking. I made to stand but he waved me to sit again and then asked if I wanted another cup of coffee as we would be having a little chat. I said I would and finished the one I had in front of me and put the mug on my empty plate. He went to the counter and an orderly rushed out to take my plate, giving me a smirk as he did so. This was getting a bit much!

Before he came back with our drinks, the officer had a few quiet words at the counter and we were suddenly alone in the mess. He sat down and offered me his hand and we shook. “Major Jackson” he said “I am General Xaviour from Military Intelligence. The boys all call me X. I sometimes think that I am a bit actor in a bad version of Men in Black around this place, with Q and M that you have already met.” When I said, “M?” He said “General MacMurtrie, the Range Officer. He has a soft spot for you now as you have made him a tidy sum in bets, much to the dismay of several others on this base. There was not an officer here who thought that a Yellow Peril Permit holder would make it past the first morning, let alone ending up shooting two battle hardened Generals.”

Taking a sip of his coffee he went on “Of the list that we were given, you did not even get considered to be brought here until you survived that blast in Detroit. We have ‘entertained’ six others before you, all gung-ho rebels who were friends of the Yellow Ones’ family. Most of them could not hit a target if it was a foot in front of their face and one even fainted when he fired his first shot. You, on the other hand, have gone through to now like a thirty year veteran. This leads me to believe that there is more to you than meets the eye, perhaps extra skills that you may have gained from Jack Ryan, who was a thirty-year veteran. Are you really Jack Ryan?”

I contemplated lying but thought better of it. “I am not Jack Ryan, as anyone can see; but I did get his memories when he died.” “Yes” he said “I believe the Switcher killed him. We have been kept in the loop from the FBI and they told us that the Switcher was no longer a threat after that explosion.” He took another sip of his drink and then asked “I believe that what the Yellow One has in mind for you is to tidy up a few loose ends, especially in regard to odd bombings that he actually instigated to kill off people who were a threat to him. One bombing was the one where your parents died.”

Marianne G 2021

Jacked Up Part 8

I sat, in a state of shock, and he allowed me a few moments to consider what he had said. “My parents were certainly no threat” I said “They were loyal, unlike myself. Being given that permit was a joke, a party piece for the in-crowd. It did stand me in good stead in the CIA as it allowed me to be privy to a few things better left unspoken about.”

“I certainly did not expect to have the skills I have been given and it was a shock to the system to be shot at this morning. I think I learned that if you ignore incoming it won’t hit you and, if it does, it really doesn’t matter after that.” I took a sip of my own coffee and carried on “I gather, from what you have said, that every bombing that took place will have to be looked at to pinpoint someone who had been a threat.” He nodded. “We are not allowed to look into this as he is still covered by the trappings of his previous office, whether he walks a golf course or languishes in a prison cell. Any orders he may have given during his time in office would have gone through cut-outs and double cut-outs. Not even he knows who it was that did the deeds, just that the deeds got done. There are a lot of us who would like to see justice prevail before we die of old age.”

He then finished his drink and we both stood. I did salute him this time and, as he returned it, he said “I will see you at times while you are here, Major, and I will answer any questions that I can. It is now up to you to figure out what questions you want answered.” He then left me to finish my drink as the mess orderlies came back to clean up and ready the mess for the lunch crowd. I left my cup for them and went out into the sunlight with so much going round in my head that it seemed like I may burst. To think that my fathers’ friend killed my whole family as ‘collateral damage’ in order to eliminate someone who may embarrass him. I was angry at first but, while walking to the base library, I calmed down and started to think like an investigator.

The first thing I needed was a list of bombings and other ‘accidents’ that took place in the period and I decided to go beyond the dates to see if they carried on. Once I had that list I would need to get a full list of casualties and then eliminate all those who had no direct links before delving deeper into the backgrounds of those who may be the target. The hard part would be to try and find out where and when any bomb may have been planted and try to check hotel lists, travel lists and airport arrival and departure lists to see if I could create a list of my own. It was a daunting task and I would need to wait for the CO to give me his briefing before I could get into it.

I did manage to start with the first list by going through the papers of the time and noting all of the terrorist bombings on one side of the page and all of the unexplained accidents on the other. It was quite a lot of names and places. There would be hardly any chance to go any further if they had kept to simple assassination but I suspected that each death would need to be very public in order to keep waverers in place. If it all stemmed from the White House just the audacity of it all should convince anyone to stay true to the cause.

I had often wondered why some Senators had remained rusted on when all around them things went pear-shaped. Maybe they were just scared they could be next. Several came across as either stupid or brainwashed at the time, repeating what the Yellow Peril spouted as if it were gospel. None of it seemed real at the time and even less believable now, years later. I had a sandwich from the machine in the library for my lunch and worked through the afternoon. When I went to the mess for my dinner I was joined at my table by a couple of troopers who showed me photos on their phones of two Generals with livid patches on their chests, “Taken by their orderlies on the sly” one said. They turned out to be good company and regaled me with ‘war’ stories and some funnier ones that had taken place on their very own ‘playground’.

When I left the mess I had turned down several requests for a date and even two proposals, one of marriage and the other wasn’t, but was close to it. I told them all that I was here to work, not play, and said that when I had finished what it was I needed to do, I would be happy to reconsider. I went to my quarters alone and with a smile on my face. It is nice to be wanted, especially nice if you want what they wanted as well. When I reached my quarters I found Quinn sitting outside with a bottle in his hand.

“I thought we may be able to celebrate your outstanding success today” he said, “I know there are more than a couple of glasses in your room; that is, if you invite me in?” I considered it for a few moments and said “Of course, I would love to have a drink with you, Major. If it wasn’t for you I would not be as popular as I am tonight.” I opened my door and ushered him in. Of course, we didn’t get around to opening the bottle until much later and it was lovely to sip the drink while sitting up in bed, naked, and laying my head on his shoulder. “It’s a good job we are the same rank” I said “Otherwise we would not be allowed to fraternise.” “Is that what we did” he laughed “There I was thinking that we were having sex.” I said “Well, now we have the sex out of the way, why don’t we put these glasses down and make love.”

He dressed and left around midnight and I just went off to sleep as I lay. At O Six Hundred I woke up and went to wash the stickiness off my body before dressing and going to the mess for breakfast. I was not the centre of attention now, thank goodness, and realised that I may have had my few minutes of fame. At Ten Hundred I presented myself at the office of Major General ‘Mad Bull’ Johannsen to receive my briefing. In his office I was amazed to see a framed picture of his bruised chest and he asked me if I would sign it for him. “When handed lemons” he said ‘one needs to invent a cocktail or else everyone says you are just mean. Both M and I have decided that we were stupid to put ourselves into the position where we could have died. It taught us both that we are past playing with fire.”

He then opened a file and took me through a number of occasions that I already had on my initial list. He did have a break-down of the casualties with notations of their links to the administration. He also had a list of known terrorists of the time and their estimated locations in the week before and after each bombing. This was all good but I thought that I really needed to know if any CIA operatives were around at the time. It also struck me that it may be good to expand that thought to include Homeland Security.

When he closed the file he said “Major, I have been told to give you the following task. You are to investigate all of these bombings and, if you can discover who was responsible, eliminate them. I have been told that it is an operation of retaliation and revenge and, as such, I am to give you all the help I can. As such, you will get a crash course in Arabic that would be enough for you to read any paperwork you see. I also have people here who can give you details when you want them. You will also be given more time shooting and some unarmed combat. I will provide an office for you with computers that link to both the internet and to our own software and records of all police forces and security forces that we have. You will have a wealth of information to mine and I suggest that you keep everything close to your own chest.”

I thanked him and he shook my hand before we saluted. “Thank you again for not killing me” he said “I have faced the worst of the worst but none were as good as you at their trade.” “Thank you, Sir” I said “the pleasure was all mine.” He smiled as I left his office with the file under my arm. His orderly showed me my office and powered up the equipment. He gave me a key to the door and suggested that I go to the PX and buy myself a padlock of my own to make sure everything was kept doubly secure. After he had closed the door behind him I sat and contemplated my position. I was not a friend of the Yellow Peril and the notion that all of the death came home to him was not an unreasonable notion. After all, he had no qualms at allowing close to half a million of his own populace to die while declaring that it was a political stunt that he blamed on everyone else.

I had to make a decision. Was I looking for a mastermind Jihadi or was I looking for a fellow-traveller doing a favour for money. I decided that I would compare the second lists I expected to generate before I moved one way or another.

Marianne G 2021

Jacked Up Part 9

I spent the next weeks training in the mornings, being taught in the afternoons and spending my evenings on the computer, getting the casualty lists of all of the ‘accidents’ and bombings that I could. I cut and pasted all of the likely targets onto another spreadsheet for later use.

Using the police and spook data bases I then researched the more likely targets and found an alarming pattern. In about half of the deaths, there was someone who had links to the administration or else the opposition. On the plane my parents died on there was a member of the entourage that accompanied the President to North Korea and had stayed there to work with the dictatorship. I pulled up all of the paperwork I could and found that he had sent an email to a newspaper man, telling him that he was coming home with a bombshell of a story. This came to me from a government overwatch branch and was certain to have been noted at the White House.

I trawled the spook sites in the days after his email and found one that asked him to investigate something for the administration and to return to the US on the flight he had been killed on. I could see that the timing gave a window of opportunity for something to be set up. I think it was because I was looking at this in a certain way that I could create a time-line. Anyone else would have seen unrelated messages. With that in mind I looked at the other bombings and found three where the target was told to take a certain flight. It was starting to look like a conspiracy now. The other thing that was odd was that the messages to the media claiming responsibility from Jihadi groups all contained the phrase ‘death to the unbelievers’ in all four cases and the ones that I considered to be genuine terrorist attacks did not have that particular phrasing.

This gave me another avenue of investigation; the origin of the four messages could, hopefully, be tracked, if only to an unknown IP. When I looked at the ‘accidents’ that I had noted, I found only two that had anyone remotely linked to politics among the casualties. Again, when I researched the claims of guilt I found that those two also had the key phrasing among the emails and social media sites. I sent a message to General Xaviour to request a meeting along with the list of six names and asked if he could give me anything on these victims that was out of the ordinary.

While waiting for the meeting I carried on with my endless days of training. On the gunnery range I was being given the best of training by General MacMurtrie himself. M, or Mac as I referred to him, was teaching me the finer arts of a sniper. I was learning about a number of different weapons and becoming proficient in all of them. We sometimes spent late evenings on the range with me using a night scope to fire at targets that were totally unseen without the equipment. He considered that I had the female attributes of a slight body, good breathing and a settled temperament that enabled me to be a good sniper.

The classroom was, however, a different kettle of fish. Because of the remit given, I was being taught about Jihadi groups, their links, their backers and their methods. I became good enough in Arabic to get some idea of what was said, without becoming fluent. I had already come to the conclusion that this was all a smoke screen to muddy the waters. I had identified at least three different groups that were likely to have carried out the bombings and my chances of finding out which individual actually placed the bombs so I could kill them was pretty much zero. Even an Arabic looking man would never get close enough for the result that had been requested.

When I did get to meet with X we spoke about that side of it first and he said “Yes, we came to much the same conclusions as you. I can tell you that we think the bomb maker was one person in most of the cases and I can give you some idea of where we think he may be in another meeting.” I then asked him about the six names I had given him. He looked at me very seriously for a few moments and then pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and gave it to me. “This is not something we should talk about unless we were in a safe room. You will see my findings on the paper. Linking these names has put a firecracker under my trusted staff as we had never looked at them together before. Take care Anita; if the wrong person sees where you are going with this your life could be measured in minutes. I really do not want to see you in a coffin, if there is enough left of you to be in it.” Before we parted I asked if he could locate the origin of the emails with the particular phrase.

Back in my room I looked at the paper. One of the victims had been becoming vocal in his criticism of his boss; another had been a Pentagon official who was resisting demands to bring troops home, citing the chances of a powder keg if they were not where they should be. Of the rest, three were simply thorns in the side of a megalomaniac while the last, the man who died with my parents, was thought to have become privy to a plan to set up a trade-free zone in North Korea with an airport, casino, hotel and golf course where the local bigwigs could enjoy themselves along with any visiting dignitary. There was a note to say that this was unsubstantiated but overflights had noted that excavation and building works had been seen at the remote site. I made mental notes and burned the paper in the sink, flushing away the remnants.

All of the four flights I was looking at had originated, or touched down in, Ngurah Rai airport in Denpasar, Indonesia and had also stopped over at the Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj airport in Mumbai, India, before exploding between there and the Mediterranean. I rather expected that the bombs had been placed in India as it would be a doddle to bribe airport security to look the other way and, as it was supposed to be a ‘friendly’ country, it would not be a problem operating there. A few nights on the spook sites gave me a list of known mercenaries in and around Mumbai as well as a list of the known activists in the same area. To muddy the waters I also researched links between the Jihadis and the same activists.

The list of known mercenaries was, thankfully, quite short and I wrote an algorithm that requested all contacts with them prior to the four bombings. I put that into the system and then turned it off to go to bed. Over the last few weeks I had been entertained by Major Quinn, mainly on a Saturday evening, and the following Saturday was no exception. That night, however, he asked me about my investigation and how it was progressing. I was sure that he was in the loop and was not surprised when he asked why I was looking at India, rather than Arab countries. I told him that I was just trying to find out who placed the bombs and their links to known terrorists. I told him which groups I suspected for some of the bombs but needed to work back from the actual events where possible to find the trail back through the person who placed the bomb and then to the bomb maker and the one who ordered the attack. I told him that only these four had a common thread. He agreed that my logic seemed impeccable.

On Sunday, when I logged on, I found my reply from the algorithm. Looking back through the messages that had been captured, there were four to one of the mercenaries that tallied with the bombings. Each one told him to expect a friend on a certain flight and to be ‘hospitable’. At no time was he given a name or a direct order so I expected that the arrangement was already in place. I copied the bulk of the email with the flight number X’d and rewrote my algorithm to find what other emails he had received with the same message. I sent it out and sat back to think about things. It looked as if I needed to find the true origin of those emails so copied all of the sender details and wrote a short algorithm to find the location of each one and put it in the system. That answer came back pretty quickly – they all originated in or near Washington DC.

Now I was worried that I may have got too close, too quickly. I deleted all of the answers from my system and did a disc clean-up to remove them completely. I was sure that my dealings with the spook systems were good as they were all encrypted but it did not stop anyone having a look at my system while I was not in the office, I was certain that even with a padlock, it wasn’t secure.

Tuesday, when I logged on, I had a reply to my last query. There were three other emails with the request to be ‘hospitable’ and the dates were some years in the past. I did a search on the web for bombings in the days following, using the flight numbers given, and, in one case, there had been an explosion while in the other two there had been a bomb threat phoned in before the plane had taken off. In both cases a bomb had been found but there were no other details available. I made a note of the dates and flight numbers and left a message for a meeting with X before purging the computer again.

The General wanted us to meet at a safe place as he was starting to worry about where this was heading. On the Thursday morning at the gunnery lesson, Mac told me that tomorrow I was to go for a long run, making sure that I stopped at the barn in the ‘playground’ for a rest. He gave me a sidearm with standard rounds to carry ‘as I needed to get used to it where I was likely to be going’. He then said to make sure I carried all of my paperwork as I may not be going back to my quarters.

Marianne G 2021

Jacked Up Part 10

Thursday evening I looked through my belongings. The bulk of my clothing was army supplied so that would not be a problem. The stuff I had brought with me added up to not much at all. I packed a bum-pack with my credentials and then a small back-pack with spare underwear, a tee shirt and a few other light items.

On Friday morning I woke early and dressed for a training run as an infantry soldier, sports bra and pants, strong trousers and shirt and boots over two pairs of socks. I put on a webbing harness and attached the sidearm and a water bottle. I did not have a helmet but put a cap on with my hair in a pony-tail. I clipped the bum-pack around my waist and slung the back-pack on. Looking around at what had been my home for the last few months I made sure that I had not left anything and walked away from there.

I broke into a trot and then got a steady pace up. It was a good four miles to the barn so it would be a while. I would not be getting breakfast in the mess this morning. As I ran I wondered who had organised my future and if I really did have a future at all. I stopped a couple of times to have a drink from my water bottle and felt pretty good when I arrived at the barn. The door was ajar as before and I drew my gun and made sure it was ready to fire as I peeped in. No-one seemed to be there and I went inside, stopping to allow my eyes to get used to the gloom. Just then there was movement from the back of the room and General Xaviour walked in saying “Bad tradecraft, J, I could have shot you while you were adjusting to the light. You should have shut your eyes outside for a few seconds before coming in at a rush. Never mind, you survived and you will learn something new from this.”

I acknowledged the lesson and we both holstered our weapons. He took me through the back to a hidden Humvee and we got in. As we drove away he told me that my line of investigation had got someone worried and that he had intercepted orders to Major Quinn to arrange an accident. “I had always worried about that man” he said “whenever he had a few he would get carried away with what was wrong with the country and I had the idea that if he was in charge we would only be left with correct thinking white men and compliant women.” He then told me to get into the back between the seats and pull a blanket that was there over me.

I listened as he drove to the main gate and told the sentries that he was going to town for a little while. He hardly stopped and the poor guys could just look as we went though. As he accelerated from the base he told me to stay low for a while but to take off my back-pack and weapons harness but to put the gun in my waistband at the small of my back. He got me to stay in the back as he drove, telling me that I was to disappear into spook clouds and that he had arranged for a few things to happen that would make Q and his friends too busy to worry about me. He asked where I was with the investigation and I told him about the mercenary and the email links to DC. I passed him the list with the name, the email addresses and the dates and flight numbers of the earlier emails. I suggested that it would be interesting to locate the reports of the two ‘failed’ attempts, especially just what explosives had been found.

He congratulated me on doing too well to the point where I was now a danger. He said that there was a hold-all behind the seats and I was to grab it. He then instructed me to get out when we got to the next gas station and to take everything I had into the ladies toilet. He said there was an outfit for me in the hold-all which I should change into and to put all of my army gear into the hold-all but to hold on to my gun and spare ammo. When I came out I was to leave the hold-all behind and there would be a blue car outside the toilets waiting for me. I was to get in to the passenger side and greet the driver like an old friend.

When we pulled up he wished me good luck and good hunting and said he would let me know more later on. I carried the hold-all and back-pack into the toilets and locked the door. The hold-all had a nice big shoulder bag, shoes, underwear and a skirt suit. I stripped completely and redressed. It was odd to be wearing civvies after so long in fatigues. I combed out my hair and put on the cosmetics in the bag, looking at myself in the mirror I thought that the army life had been good to me as I was leaner and fitter than any other time in my life. I transferred all of the stuff I had brought with me into the shoulder bag and packed the hold-all with all the army stuff, including the water bottle. I zipped it up and left it in the waste bin as I walked out into the world with a skirt swishing against my legs for the first time in months but with the added feel of a gun in the waistband at my spine.

The blue car was there and I got into the passenger side saying hello to the driver in a loud voice, like two old friends. We pulled away and I noticed another woman going into the toilets as we left. The driver was a woman I had met in the CIA and she greeted me with “Well Anita, you have certainly stirred the pooch this time.” She then told me to put on the dark glasses that were in the glove box and we drove north for a while before turning towards Pensacola. She then told me that I was to be given a lift to a small airfield where a plane would be waiting for me. It would take me to Atlanta where I would stay in a safe house for a few days while my new identity was raised. She didn’t want to know where I was going after that but wished me well, saying “I’ve worked with X a few times and that man can move mountains when he tries. He has pulled out all the stops for you so, whatever you are up to, it must be very important.” When we arrived at the small airport she pulled up next to a plane and said “Stay alive” as I got out. I thanked her for the lift and walked to the plane steps.

At the top of the steps I looked back and she was already leaving the airfield. The cabin crew pulled the steps up as soon as I was in the plane and the pilot started the engines as I was shown a seat, next to a stranger. With my shoulder bag put up in the luggage locker I sat down next to this man and buckled up. The plane was already taxiing to the threshold and the man waited until we were in the air before speaking.

“When we arrive in Atlanta” he said “you are now called Anita Ryan, not a brilliant change, sorry, but enough to muddy the water. There you will brief a small group on your investigation so far at a safe house we have in the outskirts. That group will be me, a couple of high level FBI officers and an equal number of CIA operatives. As far as your own credentials go, consider yourself to be back in the CIA as well as being a Special Agent in the FBI. I am afraid that your temporary assignment as a Major in the army has come to an end as there is going to be an unfortunate accident on that base which will kill off Anita Jackson as well as a certain Major Quinn. I believe that X has organised something in the playground with rather a lot of explosives.”

I stayed quiet while I took all this in. Then I asked “Have you been looking at these bombings for a while?” He nodded as he said that there had been suspicions but it wasn’t until I linked the six names that a pattern had emerged which had galvanised the flight I was now on. “You did well, Anita, I am sorry that one of the flights had your parents as passengers but I do believe it gave you that extra spark that allowed the truth to emerge, it was a real mistake to have launched you down the path that you have taken. Those who launched you will, hopefully, think that the danger to them has now been negated but we are going to have you appear as a completely new person when you leave Atlanta. That is something I think we are rather good at.”

The cabin crew brought around some food and I remembered that I had missed breakfast so tucked in with gusto. My companion ate sparingly, saying that he had already eaten this morning. We stayed quiet until we landed at Atlanta where the plane was taxied to a secluded part of the airport where a limo waited with dark windows. When we stopped I reached up for my bag and he got a briefcase down. As soon as we were down the steps and into the car, the plane made ready to leave again. We drove out of the airport and into the countryside, entering a gate and along a driveway to a place that looked like a stables complex. At the house we got out and the car went off around the back of the house.

“In we go, young lady” he gestured to the door and we entered the house. He led me to a large sun-room where the expected four people were waiting for us. There were no introductions. A maid asked if we needed any drinks and I asked for a coffee and she left us in peace. My travelling companion asked me to relate my recent experiences, starting with boarding the bus in Detroit. It took a while, only stopping when the maid brought my coffee. When I got to my findings, especially the latest ones in regard to the messages and their origins, the FBI guys looked uncomfortable in their dark suits while the casually dressed guy and gal from the CIA had smiles on the faces. I told them the name of the mercenary I thought was the bomber and then said that there had been two attempts that had been aborted and the dates of the flights.

When I had finished my host pressed a button and, when the maid came in, said “Maisie will take you to your room, you will find enough of a wardrobe to choose from. I expect that you will like to wash off that army persona and have a rest. We will dine at seven and we dress for dinner. Maisie will show you what would be suitable and also help you dress. I wasn’t sure how far you had gone but when X told me that you had put a firecracker under his most trusted aides I knew that we needed to hear what you had found. You have done rather well; have a rest and I will see you at the dinner table. Thank you, my dear, you have done us all a considerable service but I do expect that we will ask more of you in the future.”

Marianne G 2021

Jacked Up Part 11

I followed Maisie to a bedroom which was huge and very well equipped. She said that she would be back in time for me to get ready for dinner but all I need to do now was have a good bath which she had already drawn, then pop into bed and have a good sleep as she was sure that I had already had a full day.

“A lot of our guests arrive tired” she said “it is up to us to revive them and send them back out to save the world, usually. From the excitement I have felt around here in the last twenty-four hours, I rather believe that this could actually be one of those times. Sweet dreams.” When she had left I did exactly as she suggested. The bath water was nicely hot and laced with softeners and a perfume and I luxuriated in it until I started to feel wrinkly. When I got out and dried I found a nightgown on the bed and put it on before lying down, dropping off to sleep like a true battle veteran.

I had not realised how strung out I had been for the last few days and slept well, only dreaming that I was looking through a telescopic sight with a certain yellow tinged head in the cross hairs. When I woke up I wondered if that would be a premonition or just wishful thinking. I was just resting when there was a knock on the door and Maisie came in, pushing a trolley set up like a beauty salon. “Good” she said “you’re awake. It’s time that we started your transformation.”

By the time that I was deemed ready for dinner I had become a rather good looking, auburn-haired and sophisticated lady in a long designer gown and impossible heels. I had to practise walking up and down for a while as I had not worn heels for too many weeks to remember. Maisie gave me a matching clutch with some basic supplies and the lipstick she had used. We left the bedroom and she took me to a dining room that had been set up for six diners. My host was there, along with the four people from earlier in the day and someone I knew quite well, my old AIC from Detroit.

He came over to me quickly and took my hand, saying “I was so worried when you disappeared from the hospital, you vanished like smoke and no-one would tell me anything until getting me on a plane today. I have been given a synopsis of what you have found out and I must say that I am astonished where it all led. Our host has grilled me about our suspicions with Homeland and it seems to be very close to the group that you have unearthed.” Our host joined us and said quietly “Those email addresses you gave us this morning included two that are used by the FBI for their less-than-overt business and two were similar ones from HS. However, we will not discuss any of this at the table; it is time for a good meal with interesting company so let’s eat.”

As we ate there was some chatter around the table that you would never hear at the usual dinner. I heard about some hilarious and horrifying happenings from different spook worlds. It sounded like a horror movie mixed with Gilbert and Sullivan misunderstandings. As we ate I realised that I had not had an elegant meal since the bombing and had to stop myself scarfing it down as if I was in the mess. I had a couple of glasses of wine with a very nicely cooked beef wellington followed by a small serve of a dessert that would kill a diabetic in seconds.

After the meal we moved to the room where I had given my briefing and my host stayed standing as we sat down. “Good lady and gentlemen: he started “tonight we have to decide if we move forward to negate the danger that our country faces or just stand back to see where it goes. I am sure that you all realise that there is someone on the loose who has plans for a dictatorship that he was denied in 2020. All we have seen so far has all the hallmarks – enemies and those who are no longer friendly have been eliminated taking hundreds of innocent folks with them. The man has neither concept of rules of engagement nor any shred of conscience. I can see no other avenue except moving to stop the rot.” We all nodded; well I did slowly as I knew that when push came to shove I was likely the one doing the shoving.

He carried on “while Anita was recovering from her busy day, we have put all of the resources we have on to the problem. We now have a location for the mercenary who is almost certainly the one who delivers the bomb to whoever puts it on the planes. We have even been able to link him to a terror group based in Pakistan that has links to the Jihadi. The mercenary has a relative who works in baggage handling at the Mumbai airport. Our biggest problem is that we have intercepted an email to him from one of the addresses that instructs him to be ‘hospitable’ to a friend on a flight that will pass through Mumbai in four days. We have checked the passenger list as it stands but there are no names that raise any flags. Of course, there may be someone being told to be on that flight as we speak, it still has several empty seats.”

“I propose that we send Anita, in her new guise to Mumbai with the right equipment and knowledge to put a stop to the plan in any way she can. We have put our people on notice to monitor the bomber and his relative. Taking out the relative will be easy and can be done after the mercenary dies.” He took a sip of his drink and asked if there were any questions. The CIA woman aske “What happens after?” He stood for a few moments and replied “We just have to see what happens when this plan is thwarted. We have all of our antennas focused on POTFUS and the various agencies where his followers are embedded. We can decide a course of action after that but we now have to move fast with the task at hand.”

He looked at me and I raised an eyebrow. He laughed and said “President of the Fake United States, my dear, in the spook world we have called him that since 2016.” With that we all retired to our rooms, some, I expect, making a series of phone calls. As I was leaving my host came close to me and said quietly “Anita, this is the last time I will use that name. We have a set of credentials for you to take in the morning. There will be an information pack on the dressing table in your room with your new ID. Read it and memorise it as I expect that it will be yours for a while, depending on how successful we are over the next few weeks. Get as much sleep as you can as we will fly you to the west coast tomorrow to get a flight to Mumbai. One of our operatives will meet you there and show you where you will be staying. Good luck and good hunting.”

When I went to my room I found Maisie waiting for me. “I will help you undress madam, and then you can watch and comment while I pack you a case for your travels. She helped me disrobe and I then put on the nightdress and she pulled a case from the wardrobe. Firstly, she showed me the secret pockets for my credentials. Then she went to the drawers and started packing for me. There was a good selection of underwear and hose, then some nightwear, followed by a couple of skirts, a range of tops and a cardigan. She said that Mumbai is hot and steamy but can be cool in the evenings and if there was anything else I needed it would be supplied in the field.

After she shut the case I went into the toilet, washed my face, creamed and then dived into bed. I woke suddenly in the early hours with the target in my cross hairs. I found it difficult to sleep after that so put the light on and studied my new history. In terms of dates and places it was close enough to my old history to be easy to talk about, with the added bits of Jack Ryan history that would be easy to remember. I was now to be Augustina Juliette Hamilton-Baker of the Hamptons Hamilton-Bakers which allowed me to be naturally aloof and haughty, while intelligent and endearing. Ha! An easy role to play for a spook in training. I noticed that I was called Tina by my friends.

Obviously Maisie considered herself as friend as she breezed into my room with a tray at six am greeting me as Tina and talked about my history. This, I realised, was a test and I chatted as if it was indeed my life. After breakfast I was dressed in a very good skirt suit with a silk blouse and medium heels, made up and looking a million dollars. My host gave me my tickets through to Mumbai and my new passport. It had quite a good picture of me as I looked now and the photo-shop work was worthy of the government department that issues passports. It showed that I had travelled widely and the places matched my history. I was driven to the airport at Atlanta and my host carried my case to the first class check-in where he gave me a peck on the cheek and wished me bon voyage.

I flew to Los Angeles where I had a short wait before boarding a flight to Mumbai. It was early morning when I arrived and the heat was already stifling. After I had collected my case and cleared customs I found a uniformed chauffer with a sign that read ‘Lady Augustina” who carried my case to a nice Bentley waiting at the kerb outside. So much for flying under the radar! He drove me to an outer suburb where we pulled up at a smart spa resort. A pleasant looking man opened the door for me and, as I got out of the car he said “Welcome to the Mumbai Wellness Clinic, my Lady. I am Alfonse and I will show you to your room.” He picked up my case and we then proceeded through reception and up in a lift to the top floor.

Opening the door of a suite he beckoned me in and, putting my case on the rack and the door card on the dresser, he went to the window. I joined him and he said “Tina, I will be your contact while you are here. If you look out to the opposite slope of this valley you will see a house with a red roof. That is where the mercenary lives. We have used a laser range finder and the front door is three thousand one hundred and fifty metres from this window. I have operatives who will monitor his movements twenty four hours a day so you do not have to sit here and watch for him. There are lightweight jeans and a suitable top in the wardrobe, as well as runners and a hat. If you freshen up from your flight and have some breakfast, your driver will convey you to a private estate a little way from here where you will be able to acquaint yourself with the weapon we will provide. If you look to the right you will see a house with a flag. That will be your wind gauge. I leave you now and will see you later.”

I stood at the window and took in the scene. The distance was not a record one but not too much short. I hoped that the weapon they provide would be up to the task. I stripped off and took a shower and then dressed in the jeans and top. They had also provided a casual bag and a water bottle so I would be comfortable in the heat. I went downstairs and had a light breakfast before going to the door of the complex where I saw the car and driver waiting in the shade. I walked over and he opened the door for me. He had obviously been sitting there with the engine ticking over as it was beautifully cool in the car. I admired the scenery as we went on our way; India had its beautiful places but so much poverty,

Marianne G 2021

Jacked Up Part 12

We drove for about an hour and arrived at a secluded estate where Alfonse was waiting for me. As soon as we arrived he led me to a sturdy table and chair. There was a McMillan TAC 50 on the table with a bipod mounted at the front and a noise suppressor, exactly what would be needed at the window.

He pointed to a line of melons in the far distance and told me that they were exactly the distance required and to take my time getting used to the weapon. I firstly stripped and cleaned it, putting it back together with some ultra-light oil. When I looked at the ammunition there was a box of 50 calibre standard rounds and a small box of explosive rounds that you used when you wanted to make a head disappear completely. There was a good scope on the gun and a night scope in a padded box. I dry-fired a couple of times to settle the action and then loaded a standard round before getting comfortable on the chair with the bipod on the table. I picked up a melon in the sights and fired the shot, seeing it hit the ground a couple of feet from the target. Adjusting the sights I fired another round which looked like it hit the melon at the base which made it jump into the air. After a couple of clicks, the third shot blew a second melon off its stand. Just for the experience I loaded an explosive round as I had not had a chance to play with these before. Taking careful aim at another melon I was amazed to see the target disappear in a spray of juice and shredded skin.

I then took off the day scope and set the night scope on the gun, making the same adjustments that I had already proved. With a standard round I lined up another melon through the very strangely coloured lens and made my shot, the target being blasted off its base. All in all, the whole operation only took less than an hour. I stripped the gun again and cleaned the action and barrel before stowing it in a case that looked like a large beauty case, along with the two scopes and the left-over ammunition. Alfonse had a different look in his eyes as gave me a device that looked like a mobile phone along with a pair of blue-tooth buds. He told me to put them in and I would be listening to the secure channel that the watchers were using. I would be able to act when needed while staying cool in my room.

He then told me that the Wellness Spa had been told that I was in a period of grief over the death of a friend and that as far as they were concerned, to leave me alone until I was ready to take part in the activities. I was driven back to the Spa with my new toy beside me on the back seat. My driver carried it up to my room for me and I stowed it in the wardrobe. That afternoon, after a light lunch, I wandered around the resort, looking at the facilities and chatting to a few of the staff while checking the treatments they provided. I let it known that I was not up to taking any for a little while but that I would when I was ready.

I was back in my room when the buds burst into life. I could hear Alfonse saying that the flight would be arriving, from Paris, the following evening and taking off again at midnight for the west coast of the US, via Sydney, Australia. A few minutes after that my room phone buzzed and, when I answered, he told me that the person flying was a Republican Senator with impeccable history who was going to announce that he would be running in the next Presidential election and would likely be the candidate. I knew that he was a moderate that would work with the opposition should he win. I could tell why he was slated for elimination. If we could get him home he would be surrounded by the secret service guys as a candidate.

Alfonse had supplied a pair of binoculars with the gun and I spent some time looking at the target area. I saw the mercenary go out and return, accompanied by the buds reporting the activity and where he went. He had a 4X4 which he parked alongside the house and he seemed quite the gent as he moved, he did move like a cat, though – a rather large cat. That evening a van drew up outside and a guy got out and rang the bell. My target came out and collected a rather hefty backpack from the back of the van and carried it inside the house, the van then driving off with the buds telling me that it was being followed. The package had arrived!

I realised that nothing more would happen tonight so left the buds off to have a good sleep. My dream that night had a melon in my cross hairs which turned into the mercenary just as his head exploded. The next day I dressed in a good skirt and top and put on the buds. I had breakfast and then went to reception to book myself a few treatments to cover the next few days. I stayed in my room for the morning, fending off the maids that wanted to clean my room, and ate a good lunch. In the afternoon I assembled the gun and made sure that it was fully operational. By dinner time nothing had happened so I put the weapon in the bathroom, out of sight, and ordered a light meal to my room, saying that I had a bit of a tummy trouble; something that was quite common among visitors.

When the meal was delivered I told them that I would leave the tray outside the door when I had finished. I made sure the gun was ready and ate. I had just put the tray in the corridor when the buds burst into life. The relative was on his way to work. I made sure that my door was truly locked and also jammed a chair against the knob. Setting up the gun on a table in front of the window it was nice and secure while the barrel did not protrude. I opened the box of standard bullets and put one in the breech. On reflection, I also opened the smaller box of explosive bullets. I then settled down to wait. The sun had gone down so I swapped the scopes and checked the vision. The flag at the house in the valley was hanging limp in the evening light. There was a momentary flare when the front door opened and the mercenary came out with the back-pack carried in his left hand.

I lined him up for the kill but did not pull the trigger as he had stopped and was patting his pockets. He put the pack carefully on the step and went back inside; he must have left his keys! I quickly ejected the standard round and replaced it with an explosive one. When he came back his wife was with him and I fired as he turned to kiss her. It took about six seconds for the bullet to reach my target, the back-pack that was big enough to be an easy shot. As they kissed the front of the building disappeared in a blinding flash of light that flared my sights before the optics stabilised. When I could see again the 4X4 was lying on its side and most of the house had disappeared, along with the loving couple.

I quickly disassembled the gun and stowed it away with the comms device and the binoculars before opening the door of my room and joining the throng of customers and staff that were milling about asking what had happened. Eventually it was decided that there must have been a gas explosion and we returned to our rooms as it did not look like there was any damage to the Spa. When I looked out of my window I could see a beautiful display of various colours of flashing lights. I closed the window and went to bed for a dreamless sleep.

In the morning I went down to breakfast and inquired if all of my treatments were still on. Assured that nothing can disrupt the service I went back to my room to change into the white towelling robe before submitting my body to the most wondrous attention. I had a light lunch and then another four hours of waxing and oiling before dressing for dinner. When I was shown my table, Alfonse was there. He stood and bowed to me, taking my hand and kissing the back of it before allowing the waiter to hold my seat for me. He poured two glasses of wine and proposed a toast “To a perfect lady with a skill that few have as well as a quick mind.” We tapped glasses and drank. I asked what happened last night as the whole resort had been in an uproar.

He said that the authorities had decided that the people in that house had been the victims of an unfortunate accident from a leaking gas line. He then said that the police thought that he had mishandled one of the items that he was famous for and it had been his last mistake. No-one had thought that his death had been carried out by anyone else. He smiled as he gave me a ticket back to the states which was two days away. I said that I would like him to take a bag away for me as, although the contents worked well, I did not need to carry it home with me. After our meal he came up to my room and I handed him the beauty case. Before he left I gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek, saying “Thank you, Alfonse, it is a pity that we had not met in better circumstances.”

He smiled and said “Maybe our paths will cross again without the need for security; I know what you can do and yet I am strangely attracted. I feel like a teenage girl with a crush on the local bully.” At that I gave him another kiss, this time it took a while before we came up for air. He picked up the bag and said “I can’t stay, unfortunately, but you will be in my mind for some time to come. Farewell Tina.” Then he left the room, pulling the door shut behind him. I took off my clothes and went for a shower before going to bed, taking particular care to rub certain parts of my anatomy. I slept like a baby and spent the next day being pampered.

Marianne G 2021

Jacked Up Part 13

By my last day at the Spa the activity across the valley had dropped to a few sightseers standing by the temporary fencing. The 4X4 had been taken away and there had been forensic specialists clambering over the rubble for a while. It would be interesting to know how much more they had taken from the scene but that was nothing to do with me now.

After breakfast I showered and dressed for travelling, packed my bag and went down to reception to sign the chit that they had. My stay and expenses had already been taken care of. The Bentley and driver were waiting for me and he drove me to the airport where he carried my bag to the first class check-in. I thanked him for his time and he told me that it had been a pleasure to know a true professional. I flew via Sydney and it was late the next day when we arrived in LA, having lost several hours along the way.

When I came out of customs I was met by General Xaviour, resplendent in a civvies suit. He took my case from me and led me to a car which was waiting outside with the engine running. He put the case in the trunk and we both got in the back seat. There were a couple of guys in the front who looked like troopers in civvies but I did notice a small machine gun in the footwell within the passengers reach. X did not say anything and I could see that my silence was also needed.

We pulled up outside a swanky hotel and the General and I got out. He retrieved my case and, as he closed the trunk, the car pulled away. “Good lads, but they don’t need to know everything” he said as we walked into the hotel. He was obviously already staying there and I had a pre-booked room so was given the key card and he took me up in the elevator to my door. When he had put the case on the rack he said “That was a fine job in India, a lot of our friends have taken note and I think that there may be more for you to do soon. Rest from your flight now, and I will see you in the dining room for breakfast. If you are peckish now I suggest that you order room service but there are already the makings of a snack in the room. Goodnight Tina.”

Left to myself I did examine the makings of a snack but stripped off and put on the supplied towelling robe before I made my selection. I had napped on the plane but knew that I now needed a good sleep to rebuild my body. I cleaned off my make-up and had a long warm shower before putting on a nightie and getting into bed, setting the alarm for six. I was just waking when the alarm went off, showing that my inner clock was back on time.

Not knowing what the day would bring I opted for jeans, boots and a loose overtop. I did my make-up as totally neutral and went down for breakfast. X was already at a table with a cup in front of him. When I sat down the waitress asked if he was ready to order now and he ordered the full English for both of us with two cups of coffee. When the waitress had gone he looked at me and said “Good morning Tina, you are looking a lot better this morning.” He then took a piece of folded paper out of his jacket pocket and handed it to me, saying “you do not need to know this but I thought it would strengthen your resolve in the weeks to come.”

It was the official report of an accident that had occurred a week or so ago. It surmised that Major Quinn and Major Jackson had been engaged in a sexual encounter in one of the munitions bunkers at Hurlburt Field and, unfortunately, something had happened to detonate the munitions stored. There had been bits of Major Quinn that were able to be positively identified but Major Jackson was only able to be identified from DNA samples taken from pieces of clothing found at the scene. It was listed as death by misadventure and was signed off by Mac and both Generals.

When I had read it he took it back and gave me another piece of paper. This was an intelligence report on a mysterious explosion in Mumbai that had killed a known mercenary and his entire family. The final paragraph surmised that it had been a mistake in handling explosives on his part and that no operations were current that included him. I handed that back as our food arrived and we both started eating. We had finished the food and sat drinking the coffee when X looked up and smiled. I felt, more than saw, someone come up to the table,

X stood up and gave a semi-salute, saying “Good morning Senator, or should I say Mr Candidate. May I introduce you to Miss Augustina Hamilton-Baker. She only arrived from India last night and I am helping her regain her energy.” I stood and the Senator took my hand and then pulled me to him for a hug, whispering in my ear “I believe that I owe you my life, young lady. It will not be forgotten.” He then stood back, still holding my hand and said, in a louder voice “Miss Augustina, how good to meet you, I believe that your parents were among my earliest supporters, bless their souls.” He looked at the General and said “May I join you for a few moments, there is something I want to say.”

We both nodded and we all sat down, the waitress now bustling about asking if we needed any more drinks. The Senator ask “Coffee?” and we both said yes so he asked the girl to bring up new cups and a hot pot of black with some milk on the side. We made small talk, mainly comparing our two recent long flights and, after the coffee had been delivered, he poured the three cups and then said, quietly “I have no interest in your politics but I do know that both of you are proud patriots, although that is a description that has fallen into bad usage recently. I have called in a few favours since I found out what had been planned for me and I have put together a small team of like-minded people who feel the same as you. I am not sure what your security level is, General, but I have a couple of servicemen who have sat on the General Staff and are able to use more contacts that I would want to know about.”

“I believe that there is another move to foment insurrection and expect that the Proud Boys and the other fascists will feature heavily in the action. I am prepared to bring the two of you into the loop so that we can, together, avert this likely disastrous event. I do not know what the time-line is, yet, but the instigator is not getting any younger or any saner. I want you to know that if I do end up as the Republican candidate I will work with the other side of the house to keep us moving back to civil discussion and good governance.”

He gave us each a business card with his personal contact numbers on it, saying that if we needed to talk to him he would make time, whatever he may be doing. He then rose and gave X another card with the name and numbers of one of the most powerful military men in the country. “General, my man will contact you soon. I think that you will find him very helpful. He does have good things to say about you so don’t let him bluster you when you talk, that is just his way.” We both rose and he shook our hands before he left the room.

We remained standing and X said, quietly “I didn’t expect that! We had not spoken to anyone outside our small group about your actions. I guess that when you are an election away from being the Commander in Chief there are avenues of information not available to us mere mortals.” We left the hotel and took a walk along the street where the traffic noises would limit any eavesdropping. He took my arm and we strolled like a couple and he filled me in on what I was to do over the next few weeks.

He wanted me to use the spook web to look into the fascist militia and any likely places they could meet. “I am sure that one day there will be a rally organised to push them over the edge. It is the sort of thing he loves and I reckon a large crowd of gun-toting men shouting his name would almost make him cream his pants.” I asked if I still needed to look into the eastern terrorist groups and he told me that there were other forces at play at the moment and that when they knew exactly where the bomb maker was, there would be a cruise missile or a drone somewhere close.

His troopers drove by slowly and he held up a finger. “The boys will be back in an hour. We need to get you checked out and they will take you to a secure site with the right communications. I’m afraid that you will have to become an army Major again for a little while but I assure you that your current ID will stand up to any scrutiny. There are also a couple of healthy bank accounts in your name; I will give you the cards when we get back to the hotel.”

Back at the hotel we went via his room where he gave me a bag with an army kit in it and an envelope. He told me to be in fatigues when I went outside and the troopers will look after me. Back in my room I laid out the kit, stripped and had a shower. I dressed, once again, in the uniform and boots. This time the uniform had proper patches as a Major in the Special Forces as well as a weapons specialist badge. My name on the tag was Jacquie Ryan. There was also an ID lanyard and dog tag in the same name. The envelope also contained credit cards with the Tina name on them and I put these, along with my other Tina ID, into the secret pocket of the case, quickly packing the rest of my clothes. I carried the bag down to reception where they told me that everything was taken care of, and then went outside. As soon as I emerged the troopers pulled up and the passenger got out, saluted me, picked up my case to put in the trunk and then held the back door for me as I got in.

We drove to a quiet military airfield some way out of town where my case and I were made comfortable in the back seat of an Eagle F15D fighter and blasted at an indecent rate of knots towards the north. I think my stomach was left behind on the runway.

Marianne G 2021

Jacked Up Part 14

If commercial airlines could go this fast and this high there would only be a few very rich; or very busy people who would use it. We got high enough that I could see the curvature of the earth and above me there was a tinge of dark space.

It didn’t seem very long before the pilot spoke to me through the headset, “Make the most of the view, Ma’am, we are about to go down to Wright Patterson. I am told there will be someone there to take you on your next leg.” He then flipped the plane on its wing and we dropped like a stone. It was a good job my stomach was still back on the runway because I may have lost it again.

When we landed he taxied to a remote corner of the airfield where a tanker, an air force truck and a jeep were waiting. I was helped out of the aircraft after handing my case down. State of the art fighting machine and you get out using a stepladder; I suppose it was better than being ejected. I handed the helmet I had been wearing to a waiting serviceman and shucked out of the flight suit. There was an air force officer waiting to get into the F15 when it was ready to take off and she looked a bit like me. Ah! We are into the shadow worlds now, are we?

Once I was in the jeep we drove away with some haste, although it seemed very slow to me. I was driven to another part of the airfield where there were hangers and helipads. We pulled up next to a Chinook helicopter that was painted in US Navy colours and was being loaded. My driver gave my case to a seaman and told him it was to be stowed for immediate unloading. He then turned to me and said “This will be going to Fort Custer, Major. You should get on board now and make yourself comfortable, enjoy the trip.” With that he threw me a salute, got back in the jeep and drove away.

I got into the Chinook and said hello to the pilots who were doing their pre-flight checks. One pointed at a seat behind them that was used by a navigator on combat missions. I sat down, strapped myself in and went to put on the headset. As soon as I was strapped in the co-pilot swivelled in his seat and said “Welcome on board the ‘Dirty Gertie’ Major, I hope you enjoy the trip. I expect that you may have been in one of these before.” I smiled and said “A few times, usually they put me in first class by the big door.”

He laughed and said that this trip is a supply delivery to the Navy part of Fort Custer. He then said “We heard you come in with the air force on that F15, you had an army jeep deliver you to a navy chopper and we are taking you to a National Guard base; you certainly must have some powerful friends." I said “Be careful what you wish for, sailor, with friends like mine you have no need of enemies as they can send you somewhere you may die at the drop of a hat.” I thought a bit and then said “I suggest that the two of you should forget everything you have seen today. If my friends hear that you have been talking you may find yourselves delivering munitions to a battleship in the South China Sea. I have heard that it could get a little hairy there.”

It wasn’t long before the doors closed and the load-master came on the headphones to say everything was in and locked down. The pilots started up the engines and the two rotors spooled up then it wasn’t long before we got permission to taxi to a take-off point. With so much activity on a military airfield, you don’t just go vertical with a chopper, you have to get some distance off the ground and then follow a flight line as if you were a fixed wing aircraft. When we cleared the perimeter we headed slightly north-west, heading for Fort Custer.

It was a weird feeling being here. I had flown several times in a Chinook into a battle zone in Afghanistan but never up front with the pilots. I had not lied when I said that I had been next to the big door – the one you exit at a run in case someone wanted to shoot you. I had also been to Fort Custer before as the FBI uses the base as a site for weapons training at the range that the National Guard use to train their own members from several states. The base was pretty big and I expect that there were several buildings set away from the general areas where spook stuff was carried out. There was so many different units using the facilities a few odd ones would never be noticed.

I did not have much of a view from where I sat but it was better than the one down the other end of the chopper. Although the view back there, when the big door was dropped in flight, was usually something to behold, it lost its appeal when you could hear bullets hitting the underside of the chopper. Eventually we were over the lakes and approaching Fort Custer. The pilots got permission to put down and we landed on a pad near the navy buildings. As the rotors spooled down the pilot said “Thank you for flying Navy, I hope that you enjoyed your trip and we see you again on the ‘Dirty Gertie’.”

I shook their hands as I left the chopper to find my case already being loaded into an army staff car with tinted windows. As soon as I was in the back seat we were off again. I was now taken to an isolated building that bristled with antennas on the roof and all around it. There were even a couple of satellite dishes. I got out of the car, was given my case and the driver sped off again, no doubt doing a loop around much of the base before heading for his own quarters. I went to the main door where I was greeted by armed sentries who saluted me but made sure that my ID was good and that I had no weapons on my person or in my case.

I was given yet another lanyard with an electronic key on it which, I was told, opened any door that I was allowed to go through. They then pointed to a corridor and told me to go to the end, turn right and knock on the door marked ‘Mapping Centre’. Picking up my case I did as requested and the door was opened by yet another armed sentry. I could see screens behind him that showed the corridors I had just walked up. He properly compared my photo on the ID with me and then held a small scanner to the one on my lanyard. He then said “Sorry about the security, Major, but we are very careful in this building. While you are here you will be in room 273, which is through that door and on the right. There are no windows but we do have a big TV screen which you can tune to various outside vistas, most of them are quite soothing. When you have freshened up there are some officers who are waiting for you in Room 300, which is up the stairs to the monitor level. The stairs are a little further along from your room. I hope that you enjoy your stay with us.”

When I got close to the door of my room I heard the locks click and I was able to go in. As soon as I was a few feet from the door it relocked. I put my case on the bed and stripped off to take a shower. After I had dried I looked in the wardrobe and drawers to find army issue clothing in my size but with normal issue cotton underwear and anti-static flats. OK, I thought, we will be spending some time among a lot of electronic gear; it would be a real experience. I dressed in a light shirt and track pants, put on the flats and hung my various lanyards around my neck. At the door it unlocked and I went out into the corridor, hearing it relock as I walked away. There was a door about ten yards along marked ‘Stairs’ which clicked as I got to it. Going through I went up a flight of steps and then along another corridor until I reached Room 300. As I got to it I heard the locks click and so I went in.

The sight that greeted me was like something out of a science fiction movie. There were desks with big computer monitors, and big wall screen with lots of flags and text bars that were moving in small increments. Over to one side was a large computer unit housed in large cabinets. “Looks a bit old fashioned, doesn’t it?” said a man who had appeared beside me. “That’s a Cray but we only use it for temporary storage and running the monitors. The real computer is down in the basement in a cooled environment. I am not going to tell you my name and nor will anyone else here. You can see that my shirt says ‘Z’ as yours says ‘R’. I will show you to the desk you will be using.”

The desk was a little away from the others and the chair looked comfortable. There was a large monitor, a wireless mouse and keyboard. “There are notepads in the drawer with pens. Nothing gets brought into this room other than your ID and nothing else leaves the room. That means nothing at all. If you make notes you can store them by scanning and the physical note must be put into a burn bag. Any questions so far?” I shook my head so he carried on.

“You have access here to a data base that includes every member of every right-wing group we know about. It is in constant update as data comes in. If you have been looking at any particular person there will be an alert so you can see the new data. We also have the records of all the properties that the subjects own or lease in the country. Your job, while you are here, is to look at every property that could host a large rally and to use your particular skills to work out where a podium may be set up and where you could place yourself to get a clear shot at that podium. We will be feeding you a constant stream of social media posts that our guys in another place deem relevant. They will focus their capture should you give them names to listen to. We have already limited the search to properties of up to fifty acres so there are only about fifty that they already have access to, it would be good if you could start with those.”

He then showed me how to submit requests for further information as well as a satellite feed that was like Google Earth but in real time and live. He pulled up one of the properties and walked me through viewing it with normal light, infra-red and one that overlaid lines of height that you would see on an ordinance map. He then showed me how to access various data bases. He told me that if I needed any help to call on him. He then said “Good hunting” and left me to it.

Marianne G 2021

Jacked Up Part 15

I started out by searching through the drawers of the desk. I found a box of peppermints and a roll of fruit sweets. I had already understood that there would be no liquids in this room. There was a door to my left marked ‘Toilet’ and another that had ‘Kitchen’. I made myself comfortable in the chair and picked up the mouse. The chair arm had a hard surface so you could sit back and work the screen.

I began looking at the various properties with the survey lines switched on. My first thought was to find the ones that had the best killing possibilities. Out of the fifty there were just five that had an open area which was overlooked by high ground, some of which was outside the property. I highlighted these and brought up the names of the owners, highlighting them and the reasons I wanted them monitored; then I submitted this information to the listening post.

By this time I was getting a little hungry and was happy when Z came by and said he would show me the dining area. At the door he had to go out first and I was not allowed to get close to the door until I heard it relock. I then went through the process as well. It could get tedious but it did track movements. The dining area was back down the stairs and further along the main corridor. The food looked good and Z told me that I could work my own hours in the monitoring room as it was active all the time. The meal was excellent and I went back to my room afterwards to get a good sleep. I had, after all, last woken up in LA.

I was awake and ready to go next morning about five, so went to the dining room where I had a good breakfast. I was glad that my stomach had caught up with me again. Up at my desk I noted that I had alerts for some of the people I had flagged. I had been supplied with a full dossier on each one, along with their current location. There was a note to tell me that if I looked at the big screen, I would find all of my subjects with a blue ring around them, with a yellow ring around our primary problem. I clicked on his icon on my own monitor and had a birds-eye view of a small group playing golf in Florida. I watched for a while and realised that, although he was supposed to love the game, he really wasn’t very good at it and I even saw him pull a ball out of his pocket and drop it at a good lie, kicking the one he had just hit into the rough.

I then opened up my search for smaller properties, again with rising ground and found another sixteen that would do. I highlighted them and called up the owners as before. I then asked the system to cross check my noted people with activities of organisation within the extremists, finding six that had the land and the links. I submitted a request for all available information on those six as well as a request for full oversight of their activities. I went into the toilet and then the kitchen to have a small drink of water and when I came back there was a message waiting for me.

I saw that one of the aides had telephoned one of my targets and asked for a meeting at a coffee house in Nashville, about halfway between their present locations. That was being too nice, I thought. It was for two days hence and that gave us time to set up surveillance on both targets as well as wiring up the coffee house. My target was one of the ones with less than fifty acres so it was good luck that I had flagged him the day before.

For the next day or so I continued to search the properties, working into the night using heat sensing. I located several places that looked like empty space where the owners, and their friends, would congregate in the evening and sit around. It looked odd so I asked for one to be looked at when the owner was in town, giving co-ordinates. I believe that a couple of Special Forces guys went in and they reported that although the site looked clean, at the exact co-ordinates I had sent they found a concealed trapdoor leading to a weapons cache. It looked like the boys spent some evenings just cleaning guns and shooting the breeze.

The surveillance on the aide and his companion revealed that they were planning a large rally some three months in the future, with smaller rallies being held prior. The aide wanted the smaller ones to invite local fascist groups where they would be asked to attend the big rally, which would be held on the targets’ property. Now we had a likely site we could start to plan for the big day. The thing that chilled my bones was that the aide had been accompanied by two guys who our people identified as two of the four pardoned mercenaries.

For the next two weeks I worked nights on the heat sensing coverage, pin-pointing the little ‘gathering points’. My co-ordinates were used by Special Forces after that to look at the spot, find the hidden weapons and place a charge under the munitions for future use. We ended up with about thirty such places, all on property owned by prominent leaders of various groups. We did have a few agents inside a couple of the gangs and I asked that they try to get their friends to fire off a few shots in the air at their gatherings like the Jihadist when they get excited. It was reported back that this had become quite a popular move as they could all feel empowered and then spend some more time lovingly cleaning their guns.

As things progressed it became obvious that things were coming to a head. The vicious tweets had got more insane and increasingly exhorting the populace to ‘stand up to the socialist evil’. The smaller rallies were getting bigger and the mercenaries were showing up all over the place. The police were having a difficult time containing the Antifa demonstrations that went hand in hand with these events. It was especially hard in ‘open carry’ states as the fascists were using every opportunity to march the streets with their weapons.

At the site of the main rally we could do nothing until they started to prepare for the event. It was like a big amphitheatre and the layout was perfect, all we needed was a focal point, helpfully given when they drove a big trailer onto the site and erected steps up to it with a couple of poles to hang a banner behind it. I was now able to trace the best firing positions but came up with very few good places. The rise of the land was so little that as soon as the attendees were standing in front of the trailer, I would not be able to get a good shot from a hide. I would need to be somewhere elevated.

Three weeks out from the big rally we had a meeting. I was driven to an entertainment venue on the base, my first time out of the building in a couple of months. It was not a big group that met but, except for me, it was only Generals and above plus one certain politician. There was a bit of soul-searching but I could see that it was only half-hearted as everyone had decided that we had to use the same tactics as our enemy and eliminate the problem at its source. I closed my eyes as it came home to me that my worst nightmare was going to come true and I was to be ‘the hammer of God’.

We had been oversighting the smaller rallies and a lot of the guys arrived in cars, busses and RVs. It was decided that my best chance of a good shot would be from an RV as that would put me above the crowd. Our plant in one of the bigger groups suddenly won the lottery and bought himself a new RV which he would attend the next two small rallies in, with his new girlfriend, me.

Once again I had a new identity. I was now Annie Scott, a far-right supporter and the new girlfriend of Roger Burlson, a member of the Patriot Prayer, a group based in Portland. I was kitted out in all the right clothing; OK I looked like a biker hooker. I had my very own six-shooter and a holster on a studded belt. I was driven, in a closed van, to a railroad station where I took Amtrack to Portland. When I got off my new boyfriend was easy to spot as he fitted the demographic perfectly, in fact, we made a good looking couple if you were looking for angry folks.

Marianne G 2021

Jacked Up Part 16

He led me to the RV in the station car park and I put my bag in the back. As he pulled away he told me that we were to be at a rally about a hundred miles south and that we would arrive at the camp site a day early. As we chatted I warmed to him as, despite his outfit, he was a good guy.

When we stopped at the rally site he pulled up near the edge of the meeting place, alongside a couple of other early arrivals. On the way he had asked me to make sure that I didn’t get out of character as it would get us both killed, When we got out of the RV he was greeted by a couple of other members and their wives. I was introduced as “Annie, my latest conquest” and smiled prettily. During the day I chatted with the other wives, obviously being probed into my own leanings.

When I was asked if I had a gun I said I had my old Colt that my Dear Daddy had given me as he lay dying. We had an impromptu shooting contest and, although I was better the other women, I let the guys win. This cemented my standing with the small group. I was expecting it but when Roger came up to me and said loudly that it was time for his daily screw I blushed and waved to the others as we went to the RV. “OK baby, it’s time to put on a show,” he said. The bed was at the back of the RV and was let down from the ceiling so that the back window became the bedroom window. We deliberately left the curtains open when we made love, much to the entertainment of the other guys. There was no doubt in their minds that I was anything but Rogers’ latest lay.

After my time since Quinn I was ready for it. Well, a girl needs to get her jollies when she can and he was certainly a Jolly Roger in more ways than one. After everything had gone quiet he showed me where my weapon was hidden, in pieces around the RV. The back of the RV had two vents that opened for air and it was one of these that I would use on the day. I asked him if he knew where he would park at the big rally and he said he would pin-point the location during the next week. The peace was so nice that I pulled him to me and we kissed before cementing our relationship again, this time with me being a bit loud.

The rally was as I expected and I shouted and fired into the air on cue. When we left we drove via a small farm which was a safe house come control centre. We were let in and used the computers there to find the final rally site. Roger pointed out the parking spot on the aerial map that I pulled up on the computer and then I overlaid the current scene and was able to get a distance between the two spots. We then marked out the distance behind the farmhouse and I assembled the weapon and made some test shots over the distance that allowed me to dial the sights in perfectly. We then left and went to the farmhouse that Roger was living in. We lived as a couple until the following Wednesday when we loaded up the RV and drove to the next rally site.

The same couples were already there and we ate and shot at cans together. The rally was bigger than the last one and everyone was looking forward to the big one the next weekend. Roger and I were seen as a good pair of supporters by now and no-one questioned my place at the rally. I knew that the big one would have better security and we both made sure there was nothing in the RV that would not pass inspection. The weapon was in bits all over the place and it would take x-ray eyes to find any of it. The ammunition was in a drawer along with other calibres.

In the week leading up to the big rally I was met, while on a run, by an agent who ran beside me for a while. He told me that the arms dumps would be destroyed while the owners were at the rally and the bigger properties would be raided on the day of the rally in a search and destroy mission carried out by the Special Services. There would also be Special Services in the woodlands behind my firing spot. Roger and I were to make a bee-line from the rally site and we would be looked after. After everyone had arrived, the National Guard would surround the site to stop anyone else leaving. The Special Forces would be first in to eliminate the four mercenaries. It was all timed to the second and those not in the loop had been relieved of all phones and confined to barracks until the off.

When Roger and I arrived at the big rally we had a couple of Proud Boys and one of the mercenaries look through the RV before we were allowed in. We showed surprise at the inspection and was told that there was to be a surprise visitor at the rally. We did all of the usual things except that when we were in bed I used a laser range finder focussed on the trailer, finding that I was only a few inches short from the computer figure. On the day of the rally we left the bed down but closed the window curtains. I assembled the gun and left it under the blankets. We spent much of the day with our ‘friends’ and was able to scream and yell with all the others when a certain figure climbed the steps on the trailer.

I clutched my gut and said to my new girlfriends that all the excitement was too much for my bladder and I wouldn’t be long. I pretended to stumble a bit as I turned and Roger swore at me but said he would help be to go back to the RV but to make sure we would be back before the end of the speech. As we stumbled up to the RV we could hear all the words we had heard before the election and all the ones added in the four years after. In the RV I quickly got up on the bed and brought the weapon into place with the barrel just inside the vent. I checked the sight and I had a good view of my target. Roger was making sure our escape route was clear and checking that his AK47 was fully loaded in case we needed to shoot anyone getting in our way. I would be carrying the sniper rifle.

The speaker wound up to the point where he told the seething crowd that they were the arrow point of his permanent return to power and that every man in front of him would be given the powers that they craved, the power to kill and rape and pillage as much as they wanted because no-one would be powerful enough to stop them when his seventy five million followers joined the uprising. At that the boys started firing in the air and I looked through the sights to a madman doing his little dance and boxing moves. He had a big grin on his face when I added my bullet to all of the others being loosed off. Mine, however, was not uselessly going into the air.

I could only hope that this one act would stop all the stupidity of the last six years. I was wrong - of course I was. Stupidity is the one pandemic for which there is no possible vaccine.

The End
Marianne G 2021