Double Team
Chapter 205
“It’s lies. It’s all lies. Some of them are just prettier than others, that’s all. People see what they think is there.”
—Terry Pratchett, Monstrous Regiment
15 AUGUST 2022
Is it over? I don’t know. I’m home, but somehow, I don’t think it’s over. I stay up on the third floor, looking out the window, watching to see if my team is out there ready to capture me and return me to the boss and the cabin. As much information as he had on me, you know he has to know where I live. I should go somewhere else so I don’t endanger my family.
Yesterday at six-thirty in the morning, Cindy ran into the bedroom, stripped, and crawled over Nanette to lie on top of me. I guess they have to be in the dorm between midnight and six so she was standing at the door ready to bolt as soon as they unlocked. She just lay on top of me, sniffling and kissing my chest. For a while. Of course, eventually, she wiggled around enough to get me hard and inside her but her orgasm was surprisingly muted. She just wanted to know I was back and was still her lover.
I think we all want assurances. I tried to make time to at least hold each of my wives and tell them how much I loved and missed them. It tore my heart apart to be so isolated from them. From them and from music. I still haven’t opened my guitar case to attempt to play. I have to do it today. A month without practicing wouldn’t be too bad if my hands didn’t feel so stiff from all the rough use they’ve had. Blisters healed and turned into callouses. Most were in places I didn’t have callouses before and the tips of my fingers softened and peeled.
And today I have to face the OCS and Dr. D. I still don’t know what to think of all this. Why didn’t they try to find me? Why were they willing to believe I’d run away? I’m still pretty pissed off about the whole thing.
“Do you really expect us to believe you were kidnapped from the induction center by a gang dressed as National Service members and were swept away to a cabin in the mountains with no way to contact anyone? That you chose to escape on the exact day your wife happened to choose to rescue you? That you didn’t just get cold feet and run away from the service we’d agreed to?” Jo demanded. It seemed like she was the most critical in the room. Will Forsythe had sat back and just observed as I told my story. Rachel, Em, Joan, Donna, and Nanette all sat with me. Simon was scribbling notes on a pad and Dr. D had her arms folded and was glaring at me. Ron Starling had been introduced as head of security at OCS and had been squinting at me the entire time. I took a deep breath and released it.
“No. I don’t expect you to believe me, Jo. I don’t expect any of you to believe any of this. You know why? I don’t expect you to believe me because I spent the past month cursing you all as liars every morning when I woke up. I cursed you for breaking the promises you made to us to keep us together in basic training where we’d work on our music. I cursed you because I was afraid I’d led my pod into a false sense of security about their future. I cursed you because I didn’t believe a company of fucking terrorists could walk into an induction center and kidnap me, so they had to be real National Service members and I had to have been lied to by the people in this room. I don’t expect you to believe me, Jo, because I didn’t believe you. And you know what? I still don’t.”
“Why do you still not believe us, Jacob?” Dr. D asked softly. “We want you back in the program where you belong.”
“I think I was taken to a legitimate training camp with others in NSO training. I don’t know about the boss, but I think every one of my teammates—with the possible exception of Dana, but I’m not sure about that—believed they were being trained for an elite search and rescue team. I think the boss was on the take, but I’ll bet he’s on National Service payroll somewhere. My papers have a WABATU cover page, but inside that, it specifically spells out my service objective as SSR—Survival, Search, and Rescue. Those papers could only have been put there by someone inside the office. My bus card was specifically for the bus that I boarded and rode to Tennessee. I don’t believe you because someone in this office made sure I was routed away from WABATU and out into the wilderness.”
“May I see your papers, please?” Ron asked. I shoved the bag I’d been carrying everything in over to him. He examined the bag without opening it. “Why are you carrying it in this bag?” he asked.
“What? It’s just what they threw all my stuff in when I changed clothes. It’s been sitting in my unopened duffle until this morning. Why?”
“This is a double-layered military grade Faraday bag. They put your ID in here as well?”
“Everything. My cell phone. ID. Documentation. I took my wallet out of it this morning.”
“That explains not having been able to track him through his ID or phone,” Ron said. “It might sound like we abandoned you, but we were searching. How did Nanette find you?”
“There’s a Lo-Jack tracking device in my guitar. I don’t think they ever opened the case. No one knew about it until Nan visited my parents last week. It’s for insurance.” I watched as Ron pulled my papers out of the bag. Will reached over to stop him.
“Leave the ID in the bag,” he said. “We might want to keep it shielded for a while.” Ron nodded.
“The papers are genuine,” Ron said. “All but the cover page that just says ‘Welcome to WABATU.’ These orders are completely legitimate.”
“Then Jacob is right. Someone inside manipulated the orders. Not only manipulated them, but assembled a team and created an NSO that would capitalize on Jacob’s athletic ability and physical condition. And if that is true, we have eleven other corps members out there somewhere still undergoing their training with their ID and electronics locked in a bag like this one,” Will said.
“And potentially a trainer who has taken them off the grid and may or may not actually be a service employee. This smacks of military involvement,” Ron said.
“Why would the military be interested in discrediting me?” I asked.
“One of the principles of service reform is removing it from military management and placing it in the hands of civilians. Even though we’ve got the OCS now and it looks like we’re in charge, we still have to report in to General Gerhardt. He has been less than welcoming of the changes we’re making and of reform in any manner. The message you’ve been spreading is targeted at elections and the big threat is to congressmen and senators. But if reform is put through, the military’s involvement in the National Service will come to an end,” Will said.
“I’m sorry, Jacob,” Dr. D said. “I’ve heard you play. I’ve seen you with Cindy. I should have believed in you more. I should have demanded an open investigation.”
I just nodded. Damned right she should have!
“What’s our status?” Will asked. “When are the campaign performances supposed to start?”
“Two weeks,” Jo said. “We have three venues locally and then a week off before they start the tour.”
“Twenty-eight stops in ten weeks.” Simon added. I groaned. Well, the difference was that this time we were on National Service Assignment and not contract. We were going to be on assignment someplace regardless.
“Not knowing Jacob’s status, we extended training for his wives,” Dr. D said. “Technically their training ended on Friday but we didn’t know Jacob would show up that day. Our intent was to work on molding Desiree, Cindy, and Remas into the deputation team so we could proceed without Jacob if he didn’t show up. Rebeca was to begin work with Joan on the multiple websites she’s developing to promote the tour and the pro-reform position. Brittany and Sophie are adjusting to life at the school but it was our intent to include them on the tour, whether they were dancing or not.”
“How many people know Jacob is missing?” Will asked. I could see wheels turning in his head.
“A few teachers but most don’t know the circumstances,” Dr. D said.
“Just our team here, as far as I know,” Jo said.
“Here’s what I’d like to see happen. Keep Jacob’s ID under wraps so he can’t be traced by it. At the moment no one knows where he is. Jacob? Are you okay with staying anonymous for a couple more weeks?”
“I’m nobody,” I quipped. “Sure.”
“During that time, set up a practice schedule at the school and move Cindy, Desiree, and Remas to the school instead of WABATU. Continue to make it look like the three are preparing to go out without Jacob. But as soon as Jacob feels ready, reintegrate him into the team. If you can make the local performances in two weeks, great. If it takes you another week, that will also be fine. We keep your ID shielded until you are ready to step on stage,” Will said.
“We need some security for both Jacob and the rest of his family,” Ron said.
“And I need to run,” I added. “I’ve gotten used to an extreme amount of physical exertion every day. I need at least ten miles first thing in the morning or I won’t be worth anything for the rest of the day.” Ron nodded.
“We’ll get you a running partner.”
“We can designate practice rooms at the school for the use of the team,” Dr. D said. “Remas can act as coordinator. I’ll get teachers in line.”
“Speaking of teaching,” Jo said, “We’ve committed to making sure Cindy completes high school while she is in service. Her program needs to be structured and a tutor made available while she’s touring.”
“Jacob, you look a little distressed. Can you do this?” Will asked.
“Yes, sir. I just… I need to get my head back in the game. I need to decide how my experience is going to affect my message. Right now, I’m afraid I’ll say something really nasty about the service. I’ve got… a lot of anger to deal with,” I said. Honestly. Did they think I could just step back into being the President’s Poster Boy for the National Service? They failed. As far as I know they’re still failing. How many other secret teams are being developed?
“I’ll be happy to personally review any comments you want to make,” Will said. “But understand this. Your value from the very beginning has been your independence. I’m not going to censor what you have to say. I’ll suggest that before you say something you make sure you are speaking from facts and not from your sense of hurt and betrayal. But other than that, the message you develop will stand on its own without interference from any of the rest of us.”
“I’ll treat that responsibly, sir.”
Beca, Brittany, Cindy, and Desi returned home after training that day. They brought their regulation duffle bags with them, no longer needing to return to the dorm. I hadn’t gone to the school Monday afternoon, deciding instead to open my guitar case in our private practice room and see what condition my hands were in. One would almost think my training in Tennessee was designed to destroy my ability to play. My hands were stiff and hurt when I wrapped them around the neck of my guitar. This was different than simply having them idle as they were after the bus incident. My hands hadn’t been injured then. In my four weeks of training in the mountains, I’d had fingernails ripped, hands scraped in rocks, cuts, and two of my fingers smashed when a rock fell on them. Not broken, but bruised badly enough that I’d lost the fingernail on one of them. It was still hardening and just beginning to grow out.
The plunking on my beautiful guitar sounded wooden to me. Even the tone produced by my fingers was off. I wasn’t sure if I could do this. I wanted the music so badly tears were squeezing out of my eyes. This was as hard as learning to walk again—learning to run.
But I’d done it. I’d retrained my muscles and eliminated my limp. I learned to run. I raced. I could do this. It was just so damned hard.
Nanette had entered the practice room silently and stood watching before gently taking the guitar from my hands and placing it in its case.
“I need to practice, Nan. The schedule they’ve set up is impossible. We’re supposed to perform in two weeks.”
“I don’t know if you’ll be ready in two weeks,” she said, “but I can identify when a person is in need of physical therapy. The work your hands need is more than playing the guitar. Give me your hand.”
I held out my right hand since it was closest to her and she began to massage it. Her hands were so strong, she could easily press into the flesh of my palm. She gave me a tug and led me all the way to the third floor master. I sat on the edge of the bed and she pulled up a chair next to me. She reached in the drawer of the night stand and pulled out a bottle of almond oil. Now I understood why she wanted to come up here. With oil on her hands as she worked on mine, her fingers glided across my skin, still reaching deeply into the muscles. It felt so good I closed my eyes and lost myself in the feelings.
Even when she hit spots that were sensitive and sore, the massage felt good. When she switched hands after about fifteen minutes, my right hand felt relaxed and renewed. Working on the left hand was just as relaxing.
“You’ve spent a month using unaccustomed muscles and building your body. Let’s get your clothes off and I’ll give you a full massage.” I didn’t complain. I just stripped and lay on my stomach while Nan proceeded to massage my neck and work her way down from there. “Do you still have any clothes that fit?” she asked.
“Hmm? Why? What?”
“I’ve massaged these shoulders and arms and chest before,” she said. “I can tell they are broader and that you have more muscle. Has it affected your running time?”
“I don’t know. Since I was training others, I was working them down to a six-minute pace. One of the things the boss was adamant about was getting everyone to the same level. The group could only perform to the level of the weakest.”
“That must have been very hard on the one woman in your group. Dana?”
“Yeah. I mean she was incredibly fit to start with—all of them were—but training beside eleven guys was tough. I just can’t believe she’d go through all that to get me into a compromising position so someone could discredit me. When I found out that’s what she was supposed to do, I hated her. I contemplated killing her, Nan. Is it possible she was as much a dupe as I was? All of them?”
“It’s possible. Did you do much study of the drug trade in school?”
“There was a unit in world history about social issues and how drugs traveled from country to country. Not much.”
“Do you know the term ‘mule?’ A person who transports the drugs.”
“Yeah. They’d hide drugs all over, including swallowing plastic bags of them and then shitting them out.”
“It came originally from spy networks. In espionage, the spies would use non-spies to convey messages to someone on the other side. It was said that the best mules were those who didn’t know they were carrying. They did what was natural to them and by doing that the message or the product got delivered. But the mule was also always disposable. Neither the drug trafficker nor the spy cared what happened to her.”
“Are you saying Dana was a mule?”
“Just that it’s possible. She—all your team—might have had no idea they were being used. Roll over. Let’s do your chest and legs.”
I rolled over and found myself looking up at a naked wife oiling her hands to rub my chest. I lifted my hands and rubbed her chest as well. Nanette, my oldest wife, was the one who followed the Lo-Jack signal and hiked into the mountains to find me. To rescue me. God! I loved her.
“Let me finish your massage,” she whispered, pushing my hands away. “When I’m convinced you are completely relaxed, you can massage me in any way you’d like.”
By the time she was finished, every muscle in my body was limp except one. I lifted my hand to guide her face to mine and kissed her. Nanette was the toughest and strongest woman I knew. Livy was probably faster, but Nan was fire-hardened steel. Nonetheless, when my cock slipped between her moist folds and into her center, she was soft and welcoming. We kissed as she set the pace for our coupling. She seemed to know when to speed up to keep me rigid or slow down to keep me from coming. Her pussy sucked on my cock and drew me ever deeper into her love nest. And then we were there, moaning our pleasure in each other and feeling the vibrations of each other’s climax.
I held Nanette to me and kissed her before we both slipped off to sleep.
At six o’clock in the morning, our doorbell rang and I opened it to find Ron and another guy standing on the steps.
“Jacob, this is Lyle Anderson. He’s a runner. I wanted to be here to introduce him personally so you knew he was really with OCS security.”
“I appreciate that, Ron. I don’t know who to trust anymore.”
“The answer to that is ‘no one.’ But Lyle knows his mission is to make sure there is no opportunity for an abduction. Besides, he’s been getting lazy and needs to pound out ten miles a day,” Ron said.
“I’m going, too,” Nan said. “Lyle can protect Jacob from abduction and I’ll protect Jacob from Lyle.” It was said with good humor and the guys introduced themselves as we stretched.
“I’ll run with you this morning if you don’t set such a fast pace I can’t keep up,” Ron said. “I’d like to know your route just so I can visualize where you are in the morning.” We took off and hit the trail along Rock Creek all the way to Silver Spring and looped back. By the time we reached the south end, we’d knocked out almost exactly ten miles and walked back to the house from there.
“You guys want to come in for coffee?” I asked. I thought Lyle was ready to say yes.
“Your house is your private space, Jacob,” Ron said. “I don’t expect any of my people to enter it unless there is a bona fide emergency. At your convenience, I’d like to have a consultation with you and your family on security measures and to check the space for vulnerabilities. We’ll install alarms if you’re agreeable to it. But other than that, we want you to have as normal a life as possible and when this crap all blows over, we’ll quietly withdraw.”
Just at that point a moving van came down the street and parked in the middle, followed by a black SUV. They all parked in the middle of the street and a guy got out of the SUV to go unlock the house. The movers opened up the back of the van and four guys immediately started carrying stuff into the house.
“It looks like you have new neighbors,” Ron said. “I’m glad we parked a block over.”
“I didn’t know the place next door was vacant or for sale,” I said. “Well, I hope they’re quiet.” We said goodbye to Ron and Lyle and went in the house. I was glad they’d turned down my invitation to come in. Every one of our wives was sitting at the breakfast table stark naked.
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