A Christmas Story
- 1 year ago
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SargeChapter 7 free porn video
It took me almost three weeks to finish the raised planters filled with nothing but grass seeds and hay. The planters relied on the walls of the building as their defining points. The other parts were defined by railroad ties. My lot was a lot larger than it looked on paper. It was about fifty feet by sixty feet in a rectangular configuration. It was deeper than it was wide. I left a driveway with parking for one car beside the house and one more behind it.
The very first delivery I spent time waiting for was the used railroad cross ties. I figured it pretty close, so I only had one full and one partial cross tie left over. After they arrived, it took me almost all of two days to get them spiked down. It was late winter early spring, but I still sweated a gallon a day. Trust me driving long spikes into asphalt sounds easier than it was.
The dirt came in and was dumped into the large above ground planters. Again it sounds easier than it was. I was the one who had to spread it, and level it. I was patient enough to go with grass seeds rather than the instant sod. From all I read, I expected the seeds to lie dormant a month or so, then to do pretty well after that.
Even though I had minimal grass from the old days, I went ahead and purchased a small electric lawn mower. I paid less than a hundred bucks for a 14inch electric mower. I also had to have a fifty foot cord to make it work. I already had a twenty-five foot cord which I used for the trimmer. Believe it or not, I was looking forward to cutting my own grass. I expected to cut it in less than half an hour. Being outdoors in the summer was a pleasure for me.
The people next door were going hell bent for leather to finish their work. The only thing I could figure out from observing them was that they planned on a sidewalk cafe in front. I just couldn’t figure why they thought a tooty fruity coffee shop, in such a small town, was going to be a hit. Then again I was usually wrong when I tried to predict trends. I mean, I predicted the Kardashians wouldn’t last a season. Goes to show that my ignorance of pop culture had to limits, or that the stupidity of the masses was a bottomless pit.
Since completing my lawn project, I settled into a routine of riding my bike, eating breakfast in Sanford, then returning home in time to put a couple of hours before lunch into planning my next venture. I was not under contract to Force Protection, so I considered myself a free agent. When the building next door was finished, I had been in that ‘do nothing’ rut for about a month. All the remodeling crews were gone, and the building was bring prepared to open as Sadie Mae’s Coffee Saloon.
At least that was what the sign said. There was a second sign that read Grand Opening April Fools Day. I dreaded it, but I was also willing to give it the benefit of the doubt. After the owner thought about what a jerk his neighbor was, he had a garden wall erected at the last minute. It was the only thing separating the customers from a drive-by shooting. In other words the chance of a random terrorist attack, though small, was still there.
The grand opening came and went without any terrorist attacks. I supposed Siler City couldn’t support a terrorist cell. The question then became, would it support a frufru coffee shop. I was looking forward to finding the answer when Junior Martin called.
“Hey Sarge are you up for a job?” she asked.
“I don’t know, what is the job?” I asked.
“It’s another of those rock and roll gigs,” the Lt said.
“I think I’ll pass,” I stated flatly.
“It might get exciting,” the Lt said. “Get you your next Adrenalin fix.”
“You have me confused with someone else. I’m not a junkie, no matter what you’ve heard.” I replied.
“Okay, I can get Rex to lead your team,” he said.
“That won’t work either,” I replied. “But it should be Lucy2.”
“No can do. She took a permanent gig babysitting the princess,” The Lt said.
“Sorry to hear that, but there goes any leverage you had over me,” I said.
“That is true, but tell me aren’t you getting tired of having to buy everything off the net. All that just because you don’t drive?” he asked.
Actually I don’t mind it at all. If you really knew me, you would know that how I deal with shit like that is just part of my life. So give it up Lt,” I suggested.
“Okay when you are ready, I’m sure I can find you boring things for you to do,” he suggested.
“Fair enough,” I said.
I think that I honestly tried to be a good neighbor to the coffee saloon. I didn’t play loud country music, and I didn’t walk around nude, but nothing I did could make me like the people in designer clothes sipping white coffee. It was just obscene.
The management did declare the outside street cafe a quiet zone. They cautioned the clientele to keep the noise down. And that worked reasonably well, but it did nothing for the light pollution. Bear Creek after dark had always been lit by only a few street light and traffic lights. That is until the coffee saloon brought in their light show next door.
It was so bad that I had to pull my drapes just to get to sleep. Okay I had always pulled the drapes before I went to bed. That was to keep my light inside my own home, not to filter out bright lights from the coffee shop next door. I resented having to do that.
There were some perks though. I got to close my internet providers account. I just piggybacked onto Sadie Mae’s WIFI. I figured it was their payment to keep me from sabotaging them.
I did break down and buy a motor scooter made by some unknown, to me, company using Honda engines and other top shelf parts. It was billed as the most user, and repair shop, friendly scooter on the market. It was also pretty expensive. It was right up there with the Vespa and other imported European scooters. Why did I buy it you ask? As well you should, since I had always praised bicycle riding as a way to stay fit with out too much sacrifice. The reason was simple: time efficiency.
With that 200cc scooter I could get to Sanford in a half hour rather than two hours each way. A half day wasted, if I needed an item from the stores there. I was also able to adapt the bicycle trailer to work on the scooter. It slowed me down quite a bit, since it didn’t like operating at the higher speeds.
The scooter I bought was the same brand as the one Force Protection had bought. I had seen it operate and even ridden on it. I knew how it handled. I had to take the DMV test to get a scooter license. It also had to be insured and registered. I sure as hell hoped I would use it enough to justify the expenses.
At first I parked at the end of my drive way with a vinyl cover over it. I got up at 5AM for my bike ride to the Walmart store for breakfast, not in the store, but in the parking lot diner. When I got to the scooter, I found the cover removed had been removed. That told me that one of the Sadie Mae customers had visiting my building.
I looked everywhere I could without actually leaving the locksmith shop. I could not find a suitable packing case. Finally I found an international plastic shipping container which had been refurbished, I sent a pay pale payment for $300 and change. I sunk some posts in the asphalt jungle and screwed some hinges into the top of them. The hinges at ground level allowed me to put the scooter under it, then lower the box over it. It wasn’t pretty, but it was more secure.
Even so I continued to use the disabling locks built into the scooter, and a chain that I bought for the front wheel to prevent it being rolled off. I slept better when it was all done. When I traveled for work, I decided to roll the scooter inside with my bikes. Since I didn’t plan to use it often, the scooter should last me forever.
Three and a half weeks after I got all the scooter issues worked out, Junior Martin called again. “Look I know I promised to wait for you to call me, but we have a situation.”
“What kind of situation?” I asked.
“The kind where Lucy is being held prisoner in France. She and Tasha were picked up on the street there, two of the Prince’s bodyguards were killed. The prince was contacted immediately. An hour later he paid a ransom and his daughter was quickly released. He refused to pay for Lucy’s release.”
“Why did he do that? It’s only money,” I said.
“He might blame Lucy for the Princess’s being kidnapped. They were out shopping because Lucy and Tasha wanted to just see Paris. They told the bodyguards that they could take care of themselves. The Prince’s bodyguards gave them room. That was when they got picked up.”
“I’ll be on the next flight out of PTI check for it. Get me the tools I’ll need. Advise the others. If they won’t come, I know some people who owe me. I can call them.” I said.
When I hung up, I called Lucy1. “Can you drive me to the airport right away?” I asked.
“I’m sorry, I have a job booked. It’s a wedding I can’t get out of it,” Lucy1 said.
“Okay,” I said. I decided on the spot to ride the scooter. It would be the longest trip I had ever taken on it. It was an emergency, at least I thought it was. I wore a backpack with a change of clothes and the vinyl cover for the scooter. I also carried a wad of the prince’s cash from the window heat pump. I would like to carry it all and shove the unused portion up his royal, but I might need it later. There was no telling what the kidnappers had done to Lucy2.
It was two in the afternoon when I parked the scooter in the nearest parking garage. After locking and covering the scooter, I called a taxi to take me to the airport. I managed to convince the cabdriver to stop at a drive through burger joint on the way to the airport. I had checked on flights while I waited for the taxi, so I knew I had a long wait.
I was hungry again when I stepped off the airplane at 9PM at Dulles International Airport in DC. Martin himself was there to meet me.
“Do you have any luggage?” he asked.
“Just this backpack, so let’s get the fuck out of here,” I said. “What have you heard?”
“They reached out to me. I don’t have that kind of money. We are going to have to negotiate.” he said.
“Put your contract assets on finding something I can use. The intelligence is your expertise, not mine,” I explained.
“There is a plane leaving in two hours. You be on it and I’ll find out what I can. Is there anything you need in the meantime?” he asked.
“I need a bacon lettuce and tomato sandwich,” I replied.
“I can do that,” he said.
I found myself a few minutes later in a fancy sandwich shop in a strip mall a few miles from the airport. I choked down the sandwich with a coke. I would rather have had iced tea, however iced tea anywhere north of the Carolinas was always a disappointment.
I found myself back in the airport an hour before the flight. Martin offered to wait, but I told him to get back to his office and find me something to go on.
“You check into the Est Hotel in the Gare du Nord district. I’ll do what I can. Use your company card it’s the least I can do,” he said.
“It’s enough,” I said. “Get me some bodies.”
“I’ll do what I can,” he said.
“Martin, thanks in advance in case I forget to say it later,” I said shaking his hand.
“Be sure you come back,” he said.
“Do you want a souvenir,” I asked.
“I don’t think you can bring a head through customs,” he replied.
“Well maybe something smaller,” I said with a look as serious as hell.
I slept during most of the plane ride. It was an uneasy sleep. Some of it was due to my concern about Lucy2 and some of it was because I was uncertain about what I would do when I got to Paris. Also of course there was ever present screaming two year old.
Some of my discomfort was because my only weapon was a fake number two wooden pencil. It was a new improved version of my plastic dagger. There was a tiny graphite tip reinforced with a carbon fiber rod. An inspector could write his name with it, but it could also take his life in the hands of a trained and willing operative.
I got to Paris and took a cab to the Est Hotel. It was very near a train station which was nice, for tourist I supposed. I filled out the forms using my real name and gave the clerk my passport. I didn’t need a backstory. Hell I was a tourist. Just a retired soldier out to see the sights.
Since there were no messages for me, I checked in and went to sleep. My clock on the phone alarmed at what would have been 5AM at home. It was 11:07AM in Paris. I had been up after only five hours sleep. I didn’t even run, so I was in a foul mood.
On my way out of the hotel at 11:45AM for breakfast the desk clerk hailed me. “Another member of you party checked it late last night. She insisted I not wake you. I can give you her room number.” he suggested.
“I’m going to go to breakfast first. Recommend a good restaurant,” I demanded.
“The Bistro across the street is quite nice,” he said.
“I am expecting more members of my party. Have them call me when they arrive,” I insisted.
“Of course,” he said. He also called me Monsieur every time he spoke. I just ignored that.
After breakfast I returned to the hotel. The clerk informed me of the woman’s room number. I went to the door of the room and knocked. To my surprise Nita almost knocked me down. The hug took me completely by surprise.
“Sarge, what are we going to do?” she asked.
“We are going to find out who took Lucy and where they are. Then we are going to take her back,” I said.
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