As I finish being digitally stripped naked and humiliated going through security check, I notice a group of distinguished well-dressed men being escorted around the security scanners.
“Colonel, who are those men?”
“Mr. Jackson’s board members, they have a special clearance.” Colonel Tarver replies.
“No kidding, I notice they’re not being electronically stripped naked and turned inside out. violated in every which way like I was.”
He breaks a smile while looking at me with those sexy deep brown eyes, “Lieutenant, I love your sense of humor.”
'I’m known far and wide for that, you know."
“Well, you have a new fan Lieutenant.”
Was that some light flirtation going on there? Why do I feel so very comfortable with him, maybe why I am not self-conscious of my every word coming out of my mouth. Maybe because we’re both military. But I’ve gone out with a lot of military men in the past, and none made me feel so comfortable with them. At least we’re not having a jousting match for control like I usualy end up doing.
Colonel Tarver escorts me to a transport platform. A capsule shaped transport vehicle floats toward us and hovers above its launch pad. I kind of feel like a child at Disneyland for the first time waiting to board a ride.
“Uh-Colonel, there are no wheels or track under this thing,”
“Electromagnetic bubbles,” he replies.
“Like I said, you re seeing the tip of a very large technological iceberg.”
Oh God, the way we just gave me that super sexy wink.
We board the vehicle and the hatch electronically closes. Seated in the cockpit he manipulates transparent holographic tunnel network maps.
Mother’s voice comes over the sound system. “Shuttle is ready for launch,”
He quickly explains the base layout “The central hub is all military, it houses a Deep Underground Command Center, Armory, and Base Security. At the deepest levels, are storage bunkers, eight miles deep. Our military contractors have R & D underground facilities in the outer ring all joined by these hyperspeed tunnel transport systems.”
Buzzers sound and warning lights flash. A giant hatch opens revealing an endless metallic tunnel. Our vehicle begins to glow, then suddenly the shuttle port widows become a blur. Then the blur snaps to dead still. I flinch expecting a jolt.
A faint smile appears as he notices my confusion, “Inertia cancellation.”
“Did we even move?”
“Oh we moved, about 250 miles.”
Colonel Tarver helps me out of the capsule, “Mr. Jackson will be briefing us – uh, just to warn you, he can be a little irritating to your female senses.”
“Okay, thanks for the warning. But I’ve read numerous articles about how this guy is a major jackass with women. Oh please, just because he’s some Multi-billionaire.”
Colonel Tarver breaks a small chuckle out, “Okay, I think you got the gist of things.” I quickly follow him out the small hallway leading out to a very wide well-lighted hallway, I notice the hallway decor changing from a corporate look to something a little more swanky. Marble bust of ancient philosophers: Plato, Socrates, Aristotle, they’re all here. We soon come to a set of expensive engraved wooden doors adorned with gold lettering and trim, “CEO Mr. Ron Jackson,” my God, just this guy’s door screams major money.
Colonel Tarver speaks into an intercom on the door, “Tarver here.”
I'm almost not surprised when two beautiful women open the double doors, both wearing gorgeous cocktail dresses, one of them says, “Please step this way.”
I notice the other girl is holding a mixed drink, “Really, isn’t it 9am in the morning, what is this?” Into the Colonel’s ear.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Colonel Tarver with a forced grin.
“Yes, you certainly did,” trying to keep up with the stride of this giant beef cake.
I think two of my steps equals one of his.
We follow them through an amazing lounge area decorated with well endowed Greek statues. Did he have the male parts enlarged on some of them? Believe me, I would remember something like that. I mean look at the size of these guys. Especially Hercules, he almost looks like he has three legs!
Strategically placed track lighting shows off the expensive artwork that adorns the walls. I would imagine millions of dollars are hanging in here. Lush indoor plants and a giant fish aquarium covering one whole side of the room adds to the luxurious atmosphere. And of course, more beautiful women dressed to the hilt, some sipping on fancy cocktails. This guy runs his office like Hugh Hefner. At this point, I’m wondering where the circular bed with mirrors on the ceiling are?
We finally reach a very large plush executive office with huge monitors displaying stock market reports, technical data and high-tech machine schematics surrounding the famous Mr. Ron Jackson, computer scientist, inventor, the worlds most wealthiest and successful man.
He's in his early 40's, chiseled facial features, football player build, he reminds me of Fred, "The Hammer" Williamson in his prime. A football star and actor from the 70's and 80's. Mr. Jackson is sitting in a high back leather chair behind a massive hand carved executive desk. Scar Face would envy him. But he certainly looks like the man who has it all, minus the pile of cocaine on his desk of course.
A stunning blond secretary walks in to his office with a cup of coffee and serves it to him, “Here you are Mr. Jackson, I just made it - freshly brewed, just the way you like it.”
“Thank you Natasha,” as she turns away to leave, Mr. Jackson pats her curvy behind. Oh no, he didn’t just do that in front of me? Natasha quickly turns around as if she were going to give him a piece of her mind, but instead she forces a smile and gracefully leaves. I would have decked him, but that’s just me.
Mr. Jackson has that “Look at me,” big grin on his face, “Damn, the things a Billionaire can get away with.” and follows with a grandiose laugh.
You wouldn’t get away with that crap with me jerk, billionaire or not. And at this point, I should just walk out of here, but I’m on a mission, and I cant let this man get to me. Colonel Tarver did warn me, and he wasn’t kidding. This guy has got to be the ultimate womanizer.
And then to add insult to injury, Mr. Jackson takes my hand and places a kiss on it. Oh my God, I just hate that when they do that, slobbering all over my hand. Thought for sure I was going to puke for sure!
"So very pleased to meet you Lieutenant Vickers.”
“A handshake would have been nice,” as I pull my hand from his slobering chops.