The Ring Game
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SargeChapter 19 free porn video
Two weeks and two days later Tasha showed up at my door, just before I would have contemplated lunch. I hadn’t heard a word from her since our meeting with Lucy and Tonya, I hoped the deal had gone away. I was wrong. The deal had closed and Tasha came down armed with a digital camera that probably cost more than my scooter.
She had come to town to close the deal and take pictures of the 2nd story part of the building which she had just bought. Part of her preparation was to discuss it with me. That. in her mind at least, would lead to my help in coordinating the work on her loft. She explained that she wanted the building complete as soon as possible.
“I have decided to move a bed into the downstairs space and live there while we work on the second floor. I’m going to have my kitchen appliances set up in the old restaurant kitchen down here,” she admitted. “That is the only decision I have made so far.”
“The smart thing to do would be to move out, and let a crew come in to build it all turnkey. You have plenty of money,” I explained. And by the way, I suggested that to begin with, but plan was for you to make it permanent.”
“Yes I’m in line to be taken care of forever, but I do not have access to a box of money. The only reason is simply because I’m a woman. I could ask my father for the money, and he might do it, but everything would have to be in his name. It is how things are done in his world. If I want it to be mine, I have to be crafty. I have to get presents from him, then convert them to cash. Most important. I have to hide the cash, so that the people who work for my father can’t find it.
“So how much do you have?” I asked.
“I have maybe a hundred thousand dollars. I also have the minimum amount a member of the royal family receives from our government. Like you, I just have to balance how I spend the extra money. So will you help me,” she asked.
“Okay help me understand. How badly do you want to live upstairs? Everything you need is down here. You can do some renovations on it a hell of a lot cheaper,” I suggested.
“But if I want it to be self supporting, I need to rent half of it. The downstairs has a lot more possibilities for that,” she explained.
“It’s good to see that you have done your homework. So, have your range and refrigeration installed down here. But no ice maker and no exhaust fan over the range. You can at least live here now, if you do that. Then have a cheap, free standing shower stall installed into one of the quit two bathrooms down here. Since we will probably want to undo it later, do as little as possible to the structure of the bathrooms.”
“Okay lets decide which bathroom first,” she suggested with a smile. “I am dying to get moved in.”
The men’s room needed painting badly, but the ladies was pretty much needed only a wash, dry, and fold service to make it usable for Tasha. I called in the lady who had cleaned my house after the fire. She agreed to come two days in the future and stay or come back until the downstairs was clean. I was on site on Thursday when the lady showed up.
“Hello Rosa,” I said.
“Where?” she asked. Her English was not good, but my Spanish was nonexistent.
I walked to the ladies bathroom where she scrubbed the walls, the floors, and the fixtures. When she was finished I put her to work cleaning the kitchen area.
I stood out back to make the call to the plumber, who had worked for me on the lock shop. “Thomas when can you come to install a shower like mine in the building next door,” I asked.
“Two days,” he said in his also not good English. His first language wasn’t Spanish. My guess was that it was some bastardized version of the Russian language.
“Bring the shower cabinet like mine, and be here on Saturday,” I demanded.
“Yes very early,” he demanded in return.
“Good,” I agreed.
Rosa quit at five, so I took the bike for a ride. I was up to eighteen miles morning and afternoon. I spent my time between Tasha’s place and mine. She was calling me every couple of hours to see what I had done.
Rosa came back the next day to clean the upstairs floors and walls. Not heavy scrubbing, but she ran a wet mop over them both. It made quite an improvement. She also cleaned the windows, at least the insides.
I called Tasha Saturday after Thomas left. “Okay Tasha you can move in now. Stop and get a couple of bathroom throw rugs on the way.”
She must have called in favors for everyone at the SJL. Because before the sun went down on Sunday, she had the throw rugs down. Not to mention all her Raleigh apartment furniture in place. Everything she needed was in place in the first floor of Sadie Mae’s saloon.
Tasha had only the one fully functional shower, and a working toilet in the same bathroom. The second toilet Thomas had removed from the ladies room, was stored in the men’s room. The whole place looked pretty comfortable to me. But I wasn’t a young woman.
“So Tasha, make a list of what you want to do upstairs, and in the order you want it done. Right now, you don’t have to be in any hurry. you have a place to live.
She gave me a friendly kiss, then said, “It’s fucking awesome.”
“Good, don’t rush the rest of it. You have time now,” I said. Even though I said it, I expected her to go all hell bent for leather to finish. She surprised me for the several hundredth time. Her surprise for me was she did nothing.
She did borrow my street bike. At five in the morning she was waiting in the parking lot behind her new home. It was where I had told her to be, if she wanted to ride with me.
We rode out of town. Her on the sleek easy to pedal road bike, and me on the clunky mountain bike. We still managed ten miles out and ten back. The ride took us out to the county high school where we made a loop around their stadium. Then we reversed our earlier course to end up behind Tasha’s home again ninety odd minutes later.
“Come on to my place for breakfast, I have some coffee and muffins,” I offered.
“Done,” she said. “Do you have strong coffee? I have heard your coffee is undrinkable.”
“You can make your own coffee next time,” I suggested with a laugh.
“Actually, I like strong coffee. I love Turkish coffee houses,” she demanded. “The muffins are also good. Where do we buy these.”
“Slow down, I’ll show you all my secrets, just give me a few days,” I said quietly.
“So I get to keep the bike?” she asked as she headed for the door.
“You can keep it, if you promise to buy a new helmet. That pink one is an embarrassment,” I complained.
Tasha was busy around her new place I assumed. She was also making her plan for the work going forward. She didn’t know so much about planning, but I planned to have a consult with her before our ride the next morning.
It was after lunch when I got the call from her. “Sarge I badly need a nap. I have the air conditioning going full blast, but I do not have you in my bed. I would like for you to come hold me while I sleep. In exchange I promise that I will hold you when you need it.”
“Okay, but no pressure,” I said.
“No pressure,” she agreed.
When the phone rang, we were ninety minutes into the nap. Tasha woke first to answer her phone. I could tell it was her phone by the ring tone. She managed to unwrap herself from me. I was surprised how much I hated the loss of her hard body pressed against mine. By the time the call from James Mason reached me, I already knew from Tasha about the standoff.
“When can you and Tasha leave for Lumberton?” Mason asked.
“I will have to check with her, but I can be ready in fifteen minutes,” I said.
“She said thirty, so let’s make it thirty,” Mason said. “Don’t worry about your expenses, I’m sending a company credit card down with Maurice your lawyer liaison,” Mason said.
“Just so you know, I make the decisions, or I’m out of there,” I stated bluntly. “I’ll take everybody’s opinion into consideration, but I make the final decisions.”
“You guys have to work that out among yourselves,” Mason said getting himself out of the middle.
I rode with Tasha to the little town of Lumberton. It was the closest we could get to the scene without Local law enforcement clearance. Maurice met us at a local diner where I was right at home. Maurice, an obviously gay male, was trying his best not to bring attention to himself. I couldn’t blame him for that, since I had no idea how Native Americans felt about the rainbow crowd.
“So Maurice,” I jumped in after the began his hello nice to be working with you speech. “How about we skip the ass kissing and get right to it. What we got here?”
“Five or maybe six local ‘Native Americans’ have occupied a federal office built on traditional Lumbee tribal land. The offices were built to help the government coordinate assistance projects.”
“They have hostages?” I asked.
“Five employees and two clients,” Maurice replied.
“How many of them are Indians?” I demanded.
“Four of the seven are Native Americans,” he replied in a slightly belligerent tone.
“So what is on their list of demands?,” I asked. “Do we have a map and photos of the building and grounds?”
“They demand full recognition and treaty rights for the Lumbee Indian tribe. Yes we do have a map and a couple of photos,” Tasha replied for him. That came from the reply of the hostage taker inside. The maps are the same ones being used by the FBI.”
“Okay, let’s find out how much juice the SJL has. Maurice get me permission to go in there. Don’t worry about the people inside. Just tell the Fib-bees not to shoot my ass full of holes.
Tasha get me a bike of some kind. Oh yeah while we are here ask the waitress for a hamburger steak and fries. Put it on the expense account Maurice,” I demanded.
“Where is our other street cop?” I demanded of Maurice.
“He quit when he heard he wouldn’t be running this team.” Maurice enjoyed giving me that news a little too much.
“Okay, Tasha, it’s on us,” I said not batting an eye or saying anything.
“One riot, one ranger,” she replied. “I always wanted to use that line.”
“Let’s try to end this peaceful huh?” I asked.
“Of course, but six of them and two of us, hell the odds are on our side,” she said.
“Bloodthirsty bitch,” I whispered.
“Too bad we can’t get Lucy down here,” she laughed.
I had finished my late lunch and even my sweet potato pie by the time Mason replied. Maurice gave me the good news. “The locals are in charge and the governor likes the SJL. It’s good PR for him.”
“Maurice, I don’t need to know all that, just who the fuck I need to talk to here,” I said.
“That would be me,” a large dark skinned man in a dark brown uniform of the Sheriff’s office replied for him. “Sheriff John Oxendine,” he said extending his hand to me.
“Ray Selfridge,” I said standing in a show of respect. “What can you tell me about our hostage takers?”
“Some of the Lumbee tribe can’t wait for all that federal money to flow. Actually most of it already is, but they want to get the treaty, so they can build a casino, I expect.” he suggested.
“Sounds reasonable. Let’s get the people out, then you can work on the rest of it.” I suggested.
“Sounds like a plan,” he replied and immediately turned to leave.
“Oh will you pass me through the road block?” I asked.
“Sure,” he agreed.
“Okay Tasha get me that map of the area,” I demanded.
“You are not going in there alone?” she suggested.
“Sure I am. How else am I going to prove how valuable I am?” I suggested.
“Bullshit, I am going with you,” she said.
“If you go, we are going in cold,” I replied.
“Then I guess I’ll find out how good a sharp number two pencil is in a gunfight.” Her laugh had wicked sound to it, especially to Maurice. He had never heard a SJL operative act so brazenly, I was sure.
“There were two twenty inch kid’s bikes sitting in front of the diner. Why are there two? I just ordered one,” I demanded.
“If one’ll do ya, two will improve you,” Tasha said with a laugh.
She was loving all this macho bullshit. I could tell most of it was for show. She wanted to start her own legend and Maurice was the messenger.
Tasha and I rode the several blocks on the grossly too small bikes. Without gears, and in the early evening heat, the bikes were a heart attack waiting to happen. I knew better than to complain in front of Tasha. I would get no sympathy from her.
We cleared the check point easily, then rode the hundred yards to the building. I heard the shot, but kept on riding until I was within easy speaking distance.
“Hello in the building. It’s time to start talking. You don’t want an attack, and we don’t either. We all want a peaceful settlement of this dispute. Let us come inside to talk.” I asked politely.
There was a couple of minutes delay before the door opened. Tasha and I walked inside. I went in first to assess the situation while there was still a wall between the gun-toting young men and Tasha. They didn’t look like gun thugs, so I allowed her inside.
“So who is in charge?” I asked.
“I’m Marty Mcfly,” one of the twenty something, year old kids in dirty jeans said.
“That was a good movie, but not a classic,” I replied. “So Marty, tell us what you want, so we all walk out of here without guns being fired?”
“We want full treaty rights for out tribe and all that goes with it. The original lands owned by our people, and reparations for their theft,” Marty said.
“So forty acres and a mule won’t be enough?” I asked.
“You think this is a joke?” he asked.
“Well let’s put it this way. I am not a government agent, so I don’t give a shit how it looks in the press. Bottom line, what is it going to take for you to allow those people to leave.
You have your own little Alamo here. but if you take the hostages with you, then you won’t be martyrs you will be terrorists. Send them out and you die as the new American heroes. You could also come out with us. That way you are still the new American heroes, but you will also be alive.”
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