• Home
  • /
  • Stories Hub
  • /
  • Loving Wives
  • /
  • Claim It! Pt. 02

Claim It! Pt. 02

123

Fictional story, et al. Any misspellings and or grammatical errors are solely mine (I wish they weren't but there you have it).

*****

Don had had a tension filled week. Since he had spoken to Pete about being followed, the idea of being monitored, had slowly eaten away at him. Pete had fairly ordered him to continue on as he had before, to act ignorant of the monitoring. Pete promised as soon as it could be verified, Don would know whether his house and truck were bugged.

Don, busy with running his jobs, had spoken to Pete frequently, strictly about their construction business. Pete gave no indication that anything was amiss and continued to be his usual self each time Don had spoken to him. Which grated on Don's nerves. Don knew part of his unease was due to his impatience, he wanted to know everything yesterday, and to do something about it. Donna wasn't too far from his mind, either, but he felt helpless in that regard.

It was Friday afternoon, Don's crew had just knocked off work, and the last of the men had left, when Pete drove up. Pete drove a raggedly looking older Chevy truck with darkly tinted windows, a couple of dents, some scratches and badly peeling paint, but upon closer inspection, the truck rode on new tires, the engine purred with power, the steering was tight, it could stop on a dime and every dash instrument worked, including the radio.

Don stepped out of his small job trailer to greet Pete, but he hadn't exited the truck. Don saw his partner waving him over.

"What's up?" Don asked, somewhat apprehensive.

"Stow the long face, mi amigo! Get in. I think we might have another job, but I want you to look at it before we bid on it. You can ride with me. Shake a leg, hombre!" cheerfully hollered Pete out the truck window as he shown Don a large note held just below the window's edge. The note read, 'Leave your cell phone in the trailer. Don't ask questions, just do it. Don't react.'

Don eyes widened as he read the note. He had expected something else from Pete, but shrugged his shoulder's and said, "Sure. I just need to lock up."

In the truck, Pete discreetly waved some sort of electronic wand over Don. As Don started to protest, Pete shook his head slightly to negate any response. Once on the road, Pete drove slowly and with utmost care. The route was a new one to Don, but then they usually picked up jobs all over town, so it wasn't unusual.

"There is no job. Is there?" asked Don as he idly stared at the passing scenery.

"Nope. We got some info on the bozos that have been watching you."

At Pete's words, Don perked up. "Really? There's no job?" Not stopping to allow his friend to answer, Don plunged ahead. "Do you know who they are? Why are they doing it?" he asked impatiently.

"Whoa, there, partner. One thing at a time. First, we are going to see the guy who's been on top of that. He'll explain what he's discovered. Two, I don't know anything myself, other than what I've told you. Three, don't expect too much at this time. If the guys watching you are pros then we have to move very cautiously, otherwise, they'll know they've been made and get spooked. Okay?"

"Yeah. I get it. I'm just so frustrated. You know? I've been thinking that whomever is behind this got to Donna somehow, using faked proof. If that's the case, then I have to find Donna and explain it to her. But, I need some sort of evidence to support what I suspect happened. Dammit! This is so fucked up!"

"I hear you, man. I really do. We'll do what we can to get to the bottom of this. I promise you that." replied Pete, feelingly.

They rode another twenty minutes when Pete abruptly pulled in between two buildings and into a dark alley, putting a finger to his lips, he motioned Don to exit the truck. In front of Pete's truck was parked another vehicle, a late model dark blue Dodge Charger. Pete fairly ran to it, waving Don over.

"Get in! Hurry!" hissed Pete as he himself climbed into the car.

Right before Don got in, he looked back and saw two men entering Pete's truck. One man had the same build and complexion as Pete, the other guy could have passed for Don in a police line-up. Wonder momentarily filled Don, but quickly dissipated as understanding set in. Pete had thought of everything, including how to ditch Don's tail.

Once under way and back on the road, Don turned to Pete, saying, "Smooth move."

A grinning Pete, barked a harsh laugh in response.

They drove in relative silence until they arrived at a gated dirt drive that disappeared into a thickly wooded forest. Pete had taken them out to what was basically, wilderness. A lush line of various trees edged the main roadway, with towering hills surrounding the area.

Pete opened the gate and drove in, stopped and relocked the gate before driving further along the narrow road. They drove for a couple of miles before coming to the base of a hill, surrounded by another heavily wooded area. There stood a small house, a shack really, nestled between some large trees and the bottom of a hill. There was nothing obvious indicating anyone lived out here. Yet, Pete drove right up to the trees and stopped, shutting down the engine.

Pete hadn't made a move to exit the car. "Aren't we going to-" began Don.

"No. We stay inside the car until we get a signal. And, it's best we don't talk." broke in Pete before Don could finish his question.

Darkness hadn't quite set in, but already, with the heater off, the approaching night's frost was beginning to seep into the car's interior.

As the minutes passed, night closed in, and soon, it was too dark to see beyond even the sedan's hood.

Don, now shivering from the frigid cold, whispered to Pete, "How much longer? I'm fucking freezing!"

"Hang on a little longer. Hopefully, the wait won't be too much longer." Don heard and sensed Pete rummaging around a bit then he felt Pete pushing something at him.. "Here, mi amigo, a blanket I brought just for you. It's old, but it's wool. It'll help keep you warm."

Don hadn't seen Pete carrying anything when they changed vehicles, but gratefully accepted the blanket, quickly wrapping it around him. The stiff heavy blanket smelled old and musty, but mostly it retained the odor of old oil. His body heat, now further trapped by the added insulation, began to warm him enough to calm his shivering.

"Ah, here he is." said Pete,.

Don squinted through the fogged windshield but failed to see anyone. "Where?" asked Don curtly, annoyed at being unable to see anything. "Are you sure, I don't see-"

"Shh! Don't talk so loud. Yes, I'm sure. Soon, he'll be waiting for us at the shack. He'll signal us when he's ready. Have patience, my friend, the wait is almost over." replied Pete in a loud whisper. "When we get in there let me do the talking. I know you have questions, but these people don't know you yet, and they are less likely to be cooperative."

"Yeah. Whatever." said Don, curtly.

Don's patience was at a end. He was cold and hungry, and mostly tired. Right at the moment, Don didn't care about knowing whether his place and his truck were bugged. All he concerned himself with was to go home and sleep. If anyone wanted to watch him sleep and hear him snore, then it was their good fortune, because Don was ready to aid them in their endeavor.

Don sat sullenly, as he waited on Pete's friend to signal them. A few minutes passed, and Don was ready to tell Pete to call it a night, when he saw a quick flash of a dim red light.

"Okay, let's go." ordered Pete.

As the two men approached the shack, a large shadowy figure separated itself from the small building and approached them.

"Stop!" said the figure in a low harsh male voice.

Without replying, Pete came to a sudden stop, while grasping Don's arm and pulling him to a stop, too.

"Wha-" began Don in sore indignation.

"Be quiet. Just do what he says." whispered Pete, harshly.

Don couldn't see beyond the darkness, yet, up close he could vaguely sense the mysterious figure running something up and done their bodies.

"You're both clean." grunted the man.

"Thanks." said Pete simply.

"Enter." invited the unknown man.

Without a word, Pete moved forward toward the building. Don followed along.

The interior of the shack was even darker than being outside. Don sensed another person in the room and for some inexplicable reason that had him feeling far more concern than he had a had so far, and as his concern escalated he felt a sudden urge to bolt,

The sound of the door closing snapped Don out of his growing dread. After all, he was here with Pete and Pete wouldn't let anything happen to him. Would he?

"Each of us is going to place our hand on each of your shoulders. We are going to guide you to another location. Remain calm and do what you are told." explained the harsh voiced man. "Okay, let's move out."

Each of us? How many were there? Don thought as felt a gloved hand land on his shoulder and with a gentle squeeze and a slight push, directed him to start walking.

They walked in the darkness for what seemed like hours, but were only a few minutes. Don's spine had begun tingling from the minute he walked into the shack, and as they walked in complete darkness, with each second that passed, the tingling began to feel like an electric shock. To offset this feeling, Don began to count his steps and note the turns they took.

"Relax. We're almost there." whispered the person guiding him. The voice was not the same voice as Don had heard previously, it was soft rather than harsh, and the person spoke with a slight lilt and not with a grunt.

Shortly, Don and Pete were lead into another room. Also, without lighting. But, this room felt different to both of them. For one thing, it was no longer freezing cold, although it was still cool. Also, there was a slight dampness to the air. And, the noise of their footfalls sounded strangely echoed.

"I'm going to turn on a light. Shade your eyes." gruffly said a man's voice.

The hand that had been on Don's shoulder suddenly dropped off, and a moment later a light came on.

Don was surprised to see they were in what appeared to be a cavern. The light emanated from a battery powered fluorescent camp lamp sitting on a small wooden table. There were three people dressed in black uniforms, wearing black caps with night vision devices strapped to their heads. Don half expected them to be armed, but he didn't see any sign of weapons, for which he felt relief. This entire thing was beginning to feel like a bad movie.

The largest of the three, spoke up as he removed his goggles. "Santos." he said in greeting with a nod in Pete's direction. It was the man with the now familiar gruffness. He was a truly massive figure of a man. Larger than any man Don recalled ever seeing. He was almost monolithic.

"Hughes." acknowledged Pete, in a flat voice.

The other two also removed their goggles. Don was surprised to see that one wasn't a man at all. It was a tall woman whose face seemed crooked somehow. She could have been beautiful, but Don couldn't tell, because her face was also heavily scarred. The woman's eyes noted Don's curious glance but her gaze remained unwavering and her expression, stoic.

Don broke off his examination of the woman's face when he realized she'd seen him looking at her. With his face heating in embarrassment, Don focused his attention on Pete.

"Mendoza. Rhodes." continued Pete with his acknowledgments, giving each a nod. Don saw that the other man was dark skinned, darker than Pete, and assumed he was Mendoza. Meaning Rhodes was the woman's name.

The air seemed filled with barely held tension, when all at once, the two men and Pete, unexpectedly grinned and began laughing. The woman remained quiet and unmoved.

"The years ain't been kind to you, Top. You're uglier than my wife's fat hairy ass." roared Hughes with a huge grin plastered on his face.

"Hey, Top. How ya been?" Drawled Mendoza in a southern accent.

"Sergeant Major." Rhodes acknowledged simply, in the same soft lilting voice Don had heard before.

"I'm glad you numb-nuts still remember me, it means between all of you, there are still a few brains cells left. That will certainly come in handy for what's coming up." cracked Pete in a voice Don hadn't heard him use before, but was reminiscent of his Army days.

Each one of the three, either guffawed, laughed, or smiled, at Pete's repartee.

"Okay, now that the warm fuzzes are over with, what have you all discovered?" demanded Pete. "By the way, this is the 'client', Donald Hudson. Don, this your team. Hughes, Mendoza, and Rhodes. They'll have your back through out all this."

Each nodded their heads in turn, as their name was mentioned. Don returned their nods.

Hughes stepped closer, rubbing his chin, explaining, "Well, Top, once we got the word from- "he quickly glanced at Don before saying, -from our mutual contact, with what you needed, we got busy."

Hughes stepped toward the table, moved the lamp to the side, and told Rhodes, "Bring the case here."

Opening the aluminum colored metal briefcase, Hughes started reading from a screen.

"Hudson's house is wired like a microwave tower. Both visual and audio monitoring are employed, using hardwired systems and short range transmission systems. The hardwired systems are using the house's main phone line on a second, and unregistered, number. The wireless transmission is broadcasting roughly two-hundred meters. The only location that fits the broadcast area is a empty house that is for sale. The house is one-hundred forty-five meters northwest of Mister Hudson's home. The address is-"

"Never mind that. We can return to the details later. What about his truck?" ordered Pete.

After hitting a few keys, Hughes, answered, "Mister Hudson's truck is also wired. Audio only. And the range on that system is about one-hundred meters. All the monitoring systems are low power, hence the short ranges. My guess is whomever is involved, is trying to hide their electronic presence by keeping the energy levels low."

"His phones?" asked Pete.

Hughes hit some more keys. "The land line to Mister Hudson's house is tapped at the pole. His cell phone is hacked and cracked. We uploaded a small sniffer application into it and we should be able to do a trace to whatever device is used for monitoring. We might even be able to get a geographical location."

"Anything else tapped."

"No, that's it." replied Hughes. "We checked thoroughly. If they're using anything else, it's beyond anything we know of."

Pete pondered that a moment before responding.

"Okay. What else do we know?"

Hughes looked at Rhodes, "Take it from here, Wanda."

Wanda Rhodes drew in a slow breath, turned to Pete and began speaking. Don couldn't help but be fascinated by the woman's lilting voice. Thus, his attention was riveted on her and what she would say.

"We spotted two males entering a house- the same house we traced the transmissions to that are coming from Mister Hudson's home. We took video and photos of the two men using a dual function digital teleoptic system. Although our vantage point was at two-thousand plus meters, the still photo resolution was sufficient for identification. One male is identified as Barry Miner, a former SAS operative. The other male is one Malcolm Lewis, a professional contractor". Noticing the frown on Hudson's face, Rhodes added in explanation, "A gun for hire. Both men have respective experience in intelligence gathering, including HUMNIT and SIGNIT."

To Don it seemed, the way Wanda was talking, she would continue with more information, but she abruptly stopped speaking. It had caught him off-guard.

Pete eyed the tall woman for a moment before looking to Hughes and started to say, "I think-"

Don, urged on more by irritation than forethought, interrupted with, "I would like to ask a few-"

"Don! We spoke about this. Let me handle it." sternly admonished Pete.

"-questions." finished Don, ignoring Pete's rebuke.

The other three looked between the two men, as each respectively spoke. Although they were mildly interested in the verbal exchange, their overriding concern was if there was going to be a change in leadership.

Don turned his body toward Pete, to face him fully. Pete glared hotly at Don, but Don's expression remained set; a unreadable mask. However, his eyes burned with a unyielding passion. "Pete. I'm immeasurably grateful for all your help and the help provided by your friends." Don raised a arm to indicate the three silently but attentive, black uniformed people. "But, it's my life, not yours- or theirs- that is hanging in the balance here. I need to have input and make decisions about the things that will affect me. That means I need to have direct communication with the people who have the information."

Swinging his head to look at each of them in turn, Don made brief eye contact with all of the three, before doing the same with his friend, Pete.

Everyone heard, in Don's voice, the honest sincerity and the tenacity of his will. It also felt as if those things formed a solid substance, encasing Don in its impenetrability.

"I was blind-sided once before. I won't let that happen again. To insure that it doesn't, I have to be a active part of this team. Or else..." Don, looking Pete directly in his eyes, said, "I will shake all your hands and thank you for your effort and time- as I wish you farewell."

A tension filled silence echoed off the the small cavern's walls as Don finished uttering the last word.

Pete broke eye contact first, shaking his head. "Damn, amigo! You sure know how to give a speech. Maybe, I should be taking lessons from you." Although, Santos' words were otherwise humorous, he spoke with a stiffness that belied their superficial meaning.

"Pete, from what I've seen and heard, there is history between the four of you. I get that. I even think it's a good thing. Between you all, I suspect, there is a level of trust and loyalty that money can't buy. I understand. But, I also hear something else. I hear decisions will be made, actions taken, on my behalf to be sure, but with little or no say so from me. It's not in me to live my life like that when I can take some control. Dammit, Pete! I kicked out Donna because of something similar. What makes you think I'm going to be, or do, otherwise, now?"

Pete's intense glare softened a little as Don's words registered in his brain. With a more thoughtful expression, Pete said, "Okay, Don. I see your point. I respect that and your position. But, it really isn't up to me. It's a condition required by the team leader in order to get his team involved. It'll be up to the team leader to accept the sort of change you want."

"Okay. Who's the team leader?" asked Don in a voice with no less yield than before.

"I am, Mister Hudson." answered Hughes with his, seemingly trademarked, harsh voice. "To be straight up, I don't know you from Adam. I've read your history. I know you served, and that's fine and dandy, but the only one- other than my team- that I trust, is Santos here. I don't know how you'll react under a given set of circumstances. Whether you'll listen to reason or act out of passion. Even with Santos' high regard for you, I still wouldn't take his word alone, without knowing that you won't fuck up the mission or worse, endanger my team. By the way, our being here is a favor to Santos, not to you."

As Hughes began speaking, Don turned to look at the large man. Don listened with a sharp focus, weighing each word carefully as it fell on his ears.

Hughes looked at his team and at Santos, before continuing.

"I'd rather walk, leaving the mission before I operate outside of the conditions I've set down. If you don't like it, then-" Hughes shrugged his wide massive shoulders. "We'll gather our gear, load our asses, and fade into history. The choice is yours, Mister Hudson. We operate through Santos, or we go."

123
  • Index
  • /
  • Home
  • /
  • Stories Hub
  • /
  • Loving Wives
  • /
  • Claim It! Pt. 02

All contents © Copyright 1996-2023. Literotica is a registered trademark.

Desktop versionT.O.S.PrivacyReport a ProblemSupport

Version ⁨1.0.2+795cd7d.adb84bd⁩

We are testing a new version of this page. It was made in 17 milliseconds