A Rainy Sensual Night
- 2 years ago
- 18
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Mike sat down at his computer and logged in. Following his normal morning procedure, he opened his e-mail. Much to his surprise, he found that there was a message from root with the title, ‘An Important Intelligence Assessment.’ He clicked on the message and nearly fell out of his chair when he read the first two lines of it.
The email laid out the full intelligence estimate concerning a pending attack against the United States. Details about what groups were active in the states, what messages had been intercepted, and the kinds of activities that might be attempted were presented for all to read. Mike could see his own contributions to the assessment and the thought that others might recognize it sent chills down his spine. It was signed as originating from the leadership of the Intelligence 100.
Sanjay stuck his head inside Mike’s cubicle. Wide-eyed, he asked, “Did you read the e-mail from root?”
“Yes, I did,” Mike answered.
He looked at the screen and wondered who had signed onto the computer as the administrator and sent out the e-mail under that account. He looked at the message a little more carefully and saw that it was sent out of the White House. Someone at the NSA must have had a little fun during the night.
“This is very bad,” Sanjay said. He was informed enough to know that the assessment presented was accurate.
“Yes, it is,” Mike said not referring to the content of the message when he agreed with Sanjay. He thought it was bad that the Intelligence 100 had broken cover.
Sanjay said, “I’m going out to the telephone to tell my wife not to go anywhere today.”
“That’s a good idea,” Mike said.
The rest of the morning was spent listening to rumors about who the Intelligence 100 might be. Mike didn’t say a word, but listened as the speculations ran rampant. A few people didn’t know that root was the name of the administrative account on UNIX servers. As a result, there were a lot of people speculating that the user name root was significant somehow.
The atmosphere in the lunch room was very subdued. The normal distribution of groups was spread out around the room. The Chinese were eating together at a collection of tables. The Indians were eating together at another group of tables. Mike carried his tray past the tables and shook his head. In light of the email, he thought it was very stupid for them to isolate themselves from their coworkers like that.
On reaching the table, he sat where he could watch the rest of the room. Sanjay came out of the food service area carrying his tray. He walked past the Indian tables and headed over to the table where Mike was seated. Mike was pleased that Sanjay had decided to break with tradition, but knew it would cost him.
When Sanjay put his tray on the table next to Mike, a number of eyes turned to watch. Sanjay sat down and said, “I have decided to join you for lunch today.”
“That’s nice. How’d your wife take the news to stay home?” Mike asked.
Sanjay shook his head and said, “She is not very happy. She’s been scared for a long time. Now she’s terrified.”
“I know what you mean,” Mike said.
Another Indian walked by and said something to Sanjay. Mike didn’t know what had been said, but the expression on Sanjay’s face suggested that it wasn’t very nice. Sanjay rose from his chair and turned to face the tables filled with Indians.
Furious, he said, “Never speak to me in Gujrati again. I am an American. I sit with my coworker because we are fighting an enemy that wants to kill us! We are brothers in arms in a war against evil men!”
The entire room turned to stare at Sanjay.
Ignoring the attention he was receiving, he said, “You sit over there thinking you are so great and important. You are not! You are scum who think you are better than Americans. Every American in this room is fighting to save the lives of three hundred million of our fellow citizens and yet you chose to separate yourself from them. I say again, you are scum!”
Turning to face the Chinese, Sanjay pointed at them as he said, “You are just as bad. You sit over there speaking Chinese and keeping your words secret from the people with whom you work. Bah! No wonder no one trusts you. You don’t even have the decency to talk in English where everyone can understand what you say.
“You Arabs over there,” Sanjay shouted while pointing at another table, “Either you join the fight against the terrorists or get out of here. You sit together speaking in Arabic while men who look and talk just like you are planning to kill us. You bastards! Are you trying to kill us? I don’t know because I can’t understand a damned word that you are saying.
“We had more than fifty spies taken out of here last week. Where did they sit at lunch? There, there, and there,” Sanjay said pointing at the tables. He stood up straight and said, “Why should I trust you? You disdain the men and women who were born in this country. You harbored spies at your tables. For all I know, you are spies!
“You might have American citizenship, but you aren’t Americans. I know it! Every American in the room knows it! It’s time you became a member of this country or go back to where you were born. Join your coworkers at their tables and start earning their trust because you don’t have it. Stop speaking foreign languages that allow you to keep secrets from others. If you don’t, I promise you that you’ll never be trusted in this organization again,” Sanjay said.
Holding up his sandwich, he said, “Starting today, I am going to eat my American lunch with my American friends. I am an American, and I’m proud of it!”
As Sanjay went to sit down, the applause started. Within seconds it was deafening. Mike was the first to stand, but others around the room quickly joined him. Sanjay had said what many of them believed. Those individuals seated at the tables at which Sanjay had pointed shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Most of them looked embarrassed. Sanjay looked very embarrassed at the attention, but he appreciated the support.
Under his breath, he said, “That was for you, Donald.”
Sanjay pushed the glass of Scotch around on the bar. He ran a finger through the wet spots left by the glass. He said, “I got a little carried away.”
“No, you said something that needed to be said,” Mike replied with a smile. He took a sip of his beer and chuckled thinking back to the stunned faces around the cafeteria.
“Do you think I will get suspended?” Sanjay asked worried that his actions were going to get him fired. Donald had been fired for saying even less.
Shaking his head, Mike said, “No. I think that those days are over. The guys who were using political correctness to eliminate analysts are gone. I don’t think people will react too well if you have any problems.”
“You reassure me,” Sanjay said. He took a sip of his Scotch and chuckled. He said, “My wife is going to be very surprised when I tell her what I did. I may have to spend the night where the dog sleeps.”
Mike laughed and said, “You mean the doghouse.”
“Yes, the doghouse. That is where I’ll be sleeping tonight.”
Not having met Sanjay’s wife, Mike was convinced that she ruled the house with an iron fist. He said, “Tell her that she doesn’t need to worry about your job. You won the respect of hundreds of people today. That’s not quite right. You earned their respect today.”
“Thanks, Mike.”
“That was a brave thing you did, today,” Mike said.
“I was more angry than brave,” Sanjay said. When Utpal had asked him why he was bothering to sit with the Americans, Sanjay had gotten angry. He’d heard a number of the Indians talking about sending their families back home; meaning by that, to India. It was at that moment when he realized that very few of them considered themselves Americans.
“Very few brave acts occur when people are calm and relaxed. It requires a lot of emotion to be brave. Anger is often a great source of emotion that can be channeled to good ends,” Mike said looking down at his twisted left hand. He knew all about doing extraordinary things while angry.
Thinking about it that way made Sanjay feel a lot better. The conversation changed to topics much less emotional like fishing and barbecues. The conversation died when Mike looked over at the television set playing in the bar. The evening news was on. Splashed across the screen was the caption, ‘Spies Freed.’
In a sharp voice, Mike said, “Bartender, turn up the sound.”
Stunned, Mike and Sanjay listened to the news report that the President had released the spies so that they could return to their home countries. The news commentator on the station was talking about what a grand gesture it was and how it would help reduce international tensions.
Mike said, “That man is like Nero. He’s playing the fiddle while Rome burns.”
Sanjay said, “My neighbor has a son who has a pet rat. I hate rats very much. They are filthy animals that spread disease. I always tell my neighbor how much I hate his rat. I think that at this moment I like that rat better than the President.”
The full implications of the President’s actions crashed down on Mike. He leaned over and, in a very soft voice, asked, “Do you have a gun?”
“No,” Sanjay answered looking at Mike with wide eyes.
Mike pulled a twenty out of his wallet and put it on the bar. It was more than enough to cover the Scotch and a beer. He said, “Come with me. We need to get home right now.”
Sanjay followed Mike out of the bar. Mike pulled Sanjay over to his car and opened the trunk. He pulled out a pistol that was wrapped it in a towel. He unwrapped it and checked out the pistol. His twisted hand made it difficult. Handing the package over to Sanjay, he said, “Take this home with you. It’s loaded with a round in the chamber, but the safety is on. Don’t open the door to anyone unless you know who it is, and you trust them. If someone tries to break in, turn the safety off, cock the hammer, and put as much lead into them as possible.”
“What’s the matter?” Sanjay asked staring at the package in his hand. He wasn’t sure that he could use the gun.
“Chang is out! He’s been freed, and I know for a fact that he’s a killer,” Mike answered.
Thinking about what would happen if Chang thought he was the one who had turned him in, Sanjay felt sick to his stomach. His forehead broke out in a sweat when he recalled what Chang had shouted from the holding area.
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(This is my first story so feedback is appreciated.) Ever since you were young, you really enjoyed reading mythologies whether it be Norse, Egyptian, what have you. You were a great admirer of the stories that came from them and the Gods they spoke of. Your favorite mythology however, was Greek Mythology. Mostly it was the Greek Demigods in the stories which you enjoyed the most such as Heracles, Theseus, Orpheus. You tried to imagine being the son of a God, the power you could have if it were...
IncestThis is a short tale of infidelity that has no end. The premise I was working on when I started writing these Nemesis tales, was the discovery of infidelity, not really its consequences. Okay with some of them I have strayed into that area as well, but not on this case. So if you are looking for everything to be all tied up in a neat little parcel, you’d better give this one a miss. My thanks go to SH for proofreading this one for me. Oh yeah, an old mate of mine is into what he describes as...
Sare sexy mundyan te sexy kudiyan nu mere wallo salam Namaste hor sathiyo lun te fudiya theek thaak ne saryan diya. ISS te sexy kahaniya pad-pad ke bot wari muth maari te bot vaari kahaniya to sikhaya le le ke bot sariyan kudiya dee seel todi te bot sariya bhabiya te auntiyan dee fuddi maari hun main sochaya ke apna ek experiecne tuhade naal share kar de a so eh story jo main likhan ja reha ek dam sachi te mere niji Jeevan nal samabdat hai mera naam avtar hai te main punjab da rehan wala ha te...
Best of Enemies By Ron Dow75 04) A Life for a Life The alien had set the _Mus musculus simulant it was in to automatically adjust its tertiary features to match its surroundings unless instructed not to. The humans would, no doubt, call it "chameleon mode". So, though upset, it was not surprised that it had changed the color of its skin and fur. The human that shared the _homo sapiens simulant with it had found out for himself her "chameleon mode". Carl Decatur had decided...
HumorTwenty seven dollars and sixteen cents. That was the balance of their check book. The net worth of two people, accumulated over 20 years of marriage. The number had rattled through his sodden brain for the hours he should have spent sleeping. He had wanted to count sheep, but instead all he could count were the pennies stored in the credit union. Their total wealth could more easily be stored in a ceramic piggy bank than a commercial establishment. Sleep had eluded him. Twenty seven dollars and...
I smiled to myself thinking yeah right, they were going out to dinner to take a rest and then going back to Paul's to probably continue their fun. Oh well, my daughter was having a good time and she was getting fucked by someone I knew and trusted. I followed my sons out into the garage. I opened the front door of the car, popping the trunk. I closed the drivers door and moved to the passenger door, I had left a bag on the floor in there, Ryan went around to the other side of the car walking...
We ended up returning to town in the same cars we came in. But this time Andi wormed her way into my lap before Krista got the chance. As the others got in and made themselves comfortable, Andi put her arm around my neck and said, "Everyone else spent the night screwing around and you were politicking?!" I laughed and said, "It's okay dear. I screwed her, too." Then I asked again if she had a good time. She sighed and said, "If anyone would have told me what was going to happen to me...
It was just before their usual dinnertime. Mark Jensen faced his wife in their bedroom, Sheila sitting on the bed while he listened with a shocked expression. "And that's what actually happened," the ripely curved housewife concluded, her crimson face avoiding his gaze. She'd told him everything, every sordid detail. The chains, the whippings, the anal rapes, virtually everything. For a few minutes, Mark was silent. He found it almost impossible to believe his own stunning wife had an...
Disclaimer: I know this story is not written very well, because english is not my native language and it's my first story but here you go.i tried to reduce spelling and grammar errors, please be gentle.I need more said Lindsey, Her Servant asked surprised: "you need more Miss Stirling? But that are 3 guys.""Yes I now and that's not enough and I need at least 15 guys so bring me 12 more guys." Lindsey angrily replies."Eh yes Miss Stirling, I am on my way."Lindsey turns around to the 3 guys who...
I was afraid he might try to carry me over the threshold and break his back, but he did something even nicer. He opened the door, wrapped me in his arms, pulled me close, closer, kissed me gently and then more forcefully, his tongue meeting mine in a wet sensuous duel. My whole body, tired and worn out as I was, came alive. I pressed my body—breasts, pelvis, mouth—against him, squeezed him, ground into him, felt almost as if I might achieve orgasm right there and then. But his grip loosened,...
Rubbing my wrists and ankles, I stared at the clothes that they wanted me to put on. There was a yellow sundress, some strappy sandals and a silver bangle and ring. I stared at myself in the mirror and anger filled me as I saw for the first time what they had done to me. My brown hair was now long like a girl's, and there were breasts on my chest, and only a soft patch of hair where my penis used to be. Tears came to my eyes and I sat there and howled at the thought that I could never...
I’m startled out of a dead sleep by the fire alarm going off across campus. Since I pay extra to have a dorm room to myself, I sleep naked and am extra panic driven. I spring from my bed and scramble to wrap my old robe around my lanky frame. In full panic mode, I run out the door forgetting even my keys.Once outside, I realize it’s only a drill. Figures, it’s been about a month since the year began at school. Adrenaline fades and leaves room for a dawning horror. I'm wearing nothing but a...
College SexSitting at home, late at night, surfing the AOL chat rooms way back when could bring about some interesting opportunities. This is one such story. I had put away a considerable amount of work one day and was relaxing by searching through some AOL chat rooms… back in the day when it was the thing to do. Titles of chatrooms was one thing, but screen names were another… and searching for one of interest was always a bit of a chore. I had been hopping around different rooms for a while until I...