Adams’ Apples
18 If Not Me, Then…
“I THOUGHT YOU CUFFED HER to the chair!” Smith yelled at Smith.
“We weren’t really restraining her,” Ms. Smith yelled back. “I tossed the other end of the cuffs around the chair leg but under the rung. It was just a reminder to behave.”
“That is so stupid!”
“She still has one end of the cuffs around her leg and is dragging the other.”
“But did she take the President’s daughter with her?” Smythe demanded, shaking off his drunk and acting like a commander. “And did she go willingly or was she kidnapped?”
“We don’t have any choice but to put an APB out on her,” Mr. Smith MIB said. “Secret Service, Homeland Security, FBI—everybody.”
“We need to assume it is a kidnapping and go from there,” Lieutenant Smith declared. He was already on his phone to his Army Intelligence contacts.
“We could find out she just went upstairs and we missed her,” Sheila said.
“I want my sister found!” Kitty declared. “You said your people thought she was a Russian agent. Humpty, do something!”
They all went back upstairs where I was sitting against Jack’s door with Elizabeth in my lap. We were editing each other as I tapped out a message to Ed, outlining the missing person scenario. Ed was feeding it straight through to the wire services. By the evening news, the kidnapping of the President’s daughter was the top story of the hour. They even interrupted the football game between the Lions and the Bears.
People were very upset.
My phone rang and everyone gathered round as a video call came through. It was difficult to see who was who in the dimly-lit room where the call originated but Scarlett Muffley was crying and asking someone to just give Reba what she wanted.
“Now listen up! I have the President’s daughter in a place you’ll never find her. If you ever want to see her again, bring me Jack Adams. I will have his baby!”
The room was busy as the Smiths and the military men were getting every branch of the country’s defenses tracking the call.
“Where should Jack come?” I asked.
“Bring him by helicopter to the roof of the old Biltmore. Just the pilot and Jack. We’ll leave the girl on the roof for you to collect and fly to an undisclosed location to mate. As soon as I confirm I’m pregnant, he can go back to whatever games that whore of his plans for him.” Smith was frantically signaling me to keep her on the line.
“It will take us a few minutes to get transportation and get Jack to it. You won’t hurt him, will you?” I said, stalling as best I could. “I’m responsible for his well-being.”
“You want to watch? I might fuck him to death. Other than that, why would I hurt him? He’s the savior of the planet. I just want to get the balls rolling.” She’s definitely blonde.
“Can we make a compromise? Just come back here to the suite. We’ll leave you alone in his bedroom like you planned this morning,” I said. Smith gave a thumbs up.
“Do you think I’m an idiot?” There was a pounding at her door. “What the hell is that. Scarlett, honey, go answer the door, would you?” She returned to the phone. “I’m not going to just walk into your lair. I’m too smart… What the hell?”
Reba didn’t disconnect the call and everyone could see on my little screen, dark shadows moving in with guns raised. Scarlett screamed. It looked like the same squad that had broken into the hospital after Lily’s birth. Too many to count as Reba waved her phone around screaming about her rights. Finally, the phone went dark.
“Well, I guess the good guys got her,” Elizabeth said. “Uh… Those were the good guys, right?”
“It looked like a SWAT team, so we have to assume so,” Lieutenant Smith said.
“I have confirmation,” Smythe said. “The rescue has been completed with no casualties, though one of the team members suffered a cut from a steak knife, wielded by Scarlett Muffley.”
“She wasn’t a hostage,” Kitty sighed. “Reba must have talked her into it. They were probably calling from Mother’s suite in the Biltmore. I’ll bet she thought by getting Reba pregnant, all the attention would be off her.”
“The way they sounded,” Sheila said, “I think they’d developed something more than co-conspiracy. Reba called her ‘sweetheart.’”
I spent a long time that evening typing up a more extensive story for the Sunday edition on how the Adams family spent Thanksgiving. I did, of course, append the recording of Reba’s video call to Ed and had him handle distribution.
Early Sunday morning, while the ink was still drying on the newsprint, Elizabeth and I had one more romp in the hay. Evelyn and Jack had a tearful goodbye. The two women and the baby left for the airport and their flight back to Orlando.
I sat with a Bloody Mary and began flipping through the 250 channels provided on the Blair House television.
Brothers and Sisters, are we bereft of our ability to reproduce? I tell you, no! God, in his infinite wisdom, has seen fit to withhold the blessing of children from us for this time. But consider Sarah’s laughter when she was told she would bear a son to Abraham. Did she not say, “I’m too old and can’t get pregnant?” Yet God reached down and touched Sarah’s womb and she bore Isaac.
I tell you, when man in his pride, fails to unlock the secret of our sperm, God will reach down and touch our testicles and the righteous shall bring forth children! This is God’s opportunity to weed out the proud and impatient. It will be those who show trust and patience for whom God will revitalize the sperm of the chosen and we will be fruitful once again and multiply and replenish the earth.
‘Why?’ you ask. ‘Why would God withhold the blessing of children in this age?’ Perhaps it is to show us once again the sanctity of life. I ask you, how many abortions have been performed in the past six months? Not one! I say, nary a one!
Now that we know how desperately children are needed in this world, we should be working on a daily basis to have the hateful laws that allow the killing of innocent babes in the womb repealed! This is the work God has set before us, brethren. When he sees that we are serious about the preservation of life in the mother’s womb, then may he look down upon us with the mercy God showed Nineveh and restore our masculinity. Restore the seed of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Once again make his people as the stars in the sky! Amen.
I switched stations again.
“Is it martini time?” Jack complained as Smith, Smith, and Lt. Smith sat at the table with him playing cards.
“Sorry, Jack. Doctor’s orders. No alcohol in your system when we go to the clinic tomorrow,” Sheila said, softly patting his arm. “Maybe one of these guys would take you down to the gym in the basement. Ramsey, you could use a workout, too. Colonel?”
“Quite right,” Smythe said. “Jack, we’ve been lounging and being lazy for a month. It’s time to clean your weapon and make sure it’s loaded. Tomorrow the battle commences!”
“I love it when you talk all soldiery, Humpty,” Kitty said. “Maybe if Sheila and I work out, too, it will give the guys something to motivate them. What do you have for workout clothes?”
“I have a leotard and high heels,” Sheila said.
“Oh dear,” Kitty replied. “All I have is this little bikini I was going to wear to the tanning salon.” She came out of her bedroom holding up two pieces of string.
“Um… I have my gym clothes in my bag,” Mattie said. “I never know when I’m allowed to go home.”
“Guys, I think we’d better change into APFUs,” Lt. Smith said.
“Hmm. I wonder what I have in my bag. I’m sure I have Yoga pants,” Ms. Smith said. There was a lot of grumbling, but in ten minutes all eight remaining participants headed for the basement gym at Blair House. Me included.
“Too much weight,” Colonel Smythe said, stopping Jack from pushing at the handle of the machine. In front of him were the four women jogging on treadmills while the men all busied themselves at machines in the back where they had a good view of the bouncing buns of the four women. Except Ms. Smith. She didn’t bounce much; her buns were that firm. No one had bothered to check the weight Jack was struggling with.
“Aren’t I supposed to lift something heavy?” Jack complained when the bar almost sailed out of his reach once the weights were removed.
“You want a little resistance training, but not too heavy. We’d put the whole project off if you got a hernia. Painful stuff. Could mean surgery. Have you laid up for weeks and unable to perform.” The colonel continued to lecture as he spotted for Jack and recorded his sets and reps. It did not escape my notice that Smythe didn’t actually lift any weights or run on the treadmills himself. He was busy coaching and making sure everyone was doing their exercises correctly and recording the results. “Don’t forget to hydrate, everyone. Now let’s hustle upstairs and order up some nice healthy salads.”
“Oh, Humpty. You’re so good to us,” Kitty flattered him as she pressed her bikini clad form against his arm. It might not have been an actual bikini. It rather looked like bikini cut underwear. But no one was complaining. Sheila fell in beside Jack.
“How about a nice massage,” she suggested. “Get your shower and I’ll get my oil. In a few minutes, you’ll be all relaxed and ready to have a light dinner and sleep. We’ll get all those nasty toxins out of your body and make sure you have good strong sperm.”
Jack had not really relaxed since the women got on the treadmills. He’d been pointing straight at them. Nonetheless, he obediently got his shower and stretched out for what proved to be an expert massage.
After dinner salads for everyone but the Colonel, who had a petite cut steak, everyone retired to their rooms. I was no longer certain who was sharing a room with whom. I focused on making sure that neither Jack nor I were sharing. “Wives,” I reminded Jack.
I was awake early, having gone to bed hours before my normal two a.m. and having no liquor to help extend my sleep time. I was amazingly clear-headed. It felt strange. I wandered out to the kitchen and found Mattie already making a pitcher of Bloody Marys.
“I don’t think Jack is supposed to have alcohol this morning. We’d better take this someplace private to drink,” I suggested. My assistant was buttoned up tightly in her daily business suit, but I had a new appreciation for her after seeing her in spandex the day before. She silently handed me a drink. “This tastes a little odd,” I said.
“It’s a Virgin Mary. Sheila gave me strict instructions before she left for the clinic.”
“What the hell is a Virgin Mary?”
“Tomato juice.”
“That’s disgusting. Where’s my coffee?” I was getting a little testy.
“Why are you so mean to me?” Mattie demanded, turning on me. “I do everything I can for you and do I get any appreciation? No! Where’s my coffee? What’s in this Bloody Mary? Order breakfast. Tie my shoes. Answer all the email. All a girl wants is to have someone show her a little appreciation. I’m a highly qualified Administrative Assistant, not a slave.”
I was backed toward the couch during her rant and fell on it before she finished. She stood over me with the coffee pot and a mug. For a moment, I thought she’d just pour it on me. Instead, she poured the mug full and set it on the table next to me, then stalked back to the kitchenette.
I meekly picked up the cup and approached the rolling table with breakfast on it.
“Do I dare ask what this is?”
“Egg white omelets and dry whole wheat toast. It’s not my fault. The kitchen staff sent up the meal before I could order. Said they had a directive from the Clinic on what to serve.”
“Mmm. Sheila. Or the general. I guess we’ll just have to bear with it.”
“Do I smell breakfast?” Jack asked as he came out of his bedroom. He looked like he was in pretty good shape. He was showered and dressed.
“Egg white omelets,” I said. “Don’t blame Ms. Blaine. Nothing here is her fault. We’re supposed to be at the clinic at nine o’clock. Hey, Smiths! Where is this clinic?” The two MIB approached the table and began playing with their food.
“It’s just over in the Executive Office Building. We just need to go down to the garage and cross over to the elevators,” Mr. Smith said. “We need to leave in twenty minutes.”
I stood and went to Mattie’s little office area where she was busily sorting through my email.
“Mattie, I’m sorry I’m a pig. I’m way out of my element here and just want to go home. Thank you for all you do for me and for Jack. I really consider you part of the team.” She looked up at me, shock written across her face.
“We need to start for the Clinic,” she squeaked. I nodded and went to collect Jack.
“No!” Reba screamed as she rushed from between two cars in the parking garage at the relaxed entourage accompanying Jack to his first donation appointment. “If I can’t have him, nobody can!”
I dove across Jack, tripping Reba as she lunged. Mattie and Kitty walked behind us, effectively blocking Jack from the three men supposedly providing security. Ms. Smith had gone ahead to call the elevator. I felt the knife slice across my left arm and heard a painful wail from Jack just before he fell across me, pinning Reba down.
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