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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

The Billabong - 4. Chapter 4

The hall buzzed with many conversations as the participants - sergeants and all ranking officers - awaited the colonel. At the appointed time, Colonel Stamins strode into the room, stepped up to the microphone, and surveyed all. His stern gaze subdued all conversation.

To the side were officers of the American (US) military, who were to be participating in the war game.

'My purpose today is to give you an abridged outline of the coming war game with the US Defence Force entitled ‘Tiger Sword'. For security reasons I won't go into meticulous detail; subsequently you'll be advised of your roles when you attend individual briefings. Accordingly, I will not be taking questions. (Pause; to marshal his thoughts)

Because terrorism is now a major world threat, the TS (Tiger Sword) scenario is based around a fictitious country somewhere to the north of Australia, that has experienced a coup d’état and installed a puppet government. The stricken territory is overrun with foreign troops as well as militia-style Islamist fundamentalist groups. A UN Security Council resolution has given Australia and the USA a mandate to enter this country, and set security conditions for a transition to free elections. While it is a fictitious situation, it is similar to the kind of real-world operations that have already occurred in East Timor and the Solomon Islands. Various elements are injected into the scenario to make it more realistic. An example is participation of a United Nations representative who will ensure the correct implementation of procedures for such a UN mission. Other government agencies such as police, will participate as part of the transition from military to civilian rule.

 

The first objective is a pair of features overlooking an inhabited town suspected of harbouring a large number of armed insurgents. The operation is complex, with numerous obstacles, minefields and enemy positions to overcome, but combat engineers, tanks, artillery, mortars, military police, armed Tiger helicopters, and F/A-18Fs will be fully utilised. Once the features have been secured, the operation to clear the town - scheduled for 0800 hours the next morning - could commence. By that time, a field hospital will be set up further back near the Brigade Headquarters, and should be ready to receive casualties.'

Then the Colonel paused and surveyed the room; there was an unusual hush as the group digested what the Colonel had outlined. Then he turned to a senior American officer,

'Colonel Billings, would you care to add something?'

The officer nodded and approached the microphone.

'My name is Colonel Arthur Billings and I'll be heading up the US contingent in the coming exercise. (Pause, as he cleared his throat). We regard the coming War Game as vital to counter terrorism, particularly of the Islamic variety. All of you would have read and seen the impact of Isis in the Middle East and would know how extreme these bastards are. They're a threat to world peace and we - the US - will not stop until they are either decimated or under our control. The coming exercise has been planned to achieve this objective. We regard this part of the world, with its density of Islamic followers, to be worthy of special attention. Australia, population wise, is a small nation with an enormous land mass that will, at some time, be coveted by extremists. We intend to stand by you Aussies as you, in the past, have stood by the US. I wish you great success in your endeavours.'

He then nodded to Colonel Stamins who returned to the podium.

'That’s all people; seek out your briefing groups and let's have a successful exercise.'

* * *

4.2

Mark and Sergeant Jack Reading left their briefing room and strolled back to Company Headquarters.

' Sir, are you disappointed that we aren't going to play a major role in the manoeuvres?'

'No not really; I've just taken over this command and I'm still getting to know the men, our strengths and weaknesses. When I was on Brigade staff, I had enough involvement; I know what goes on and frankly I'm glad the company's total involvement has been limited to just you Sergeant. How do you feel about being on the Assessment Team?'

'(Laughing) yeah, I've been assigned before. I thought I could dodge the bullet this time; seems they don't have too many non-coms with my experience. Anyway, it's a bit of a softie; mostly we sit around, watch the Status Board, and every so often go out on a field audit. The main problem comes in compiling a report for the big supremoes.'

'Why would that be a problem?'

(Laughing) no problem with compiling the report itself, it's the political sensitivities that are prickly. No commander can tolerate anything slightly detrimental to either his personal or team performance. I've seen respected senior officers go ape at anything less than a glowing report. (pause) If you stand yer ground, your own career can be jeopardized; some commanders have a long and spiteful memory.'

'(Smiling) That I can well believe, yes I can well believe; I shouldn't speak ill of my peers, but it seems some commanders get more childish as they move up in rank. Maybe it's just survival instinct, their only human after all.'

As they were nearing the NCO mess, Reading volunteered,

'Sir that reminds me of something I've wanted to talk to you about - careers and stuff. It's personal, so how about we slip into the mess here and I'll shout you a coffee.'

'OK yep, good to have a chat away from the office for once. I (smiling) hear the coffee's better than in the officer's mess.'

They entered the mess and whilst the sergeant went to get their drinks, Mark sat down at an empty table. The mess was very quiet at this time of the day.

'Here y'are sir, straight black for you and a latté for me; I could never stomach the stuff black - a bit severe on me guts.'

'Hmm (taking a sip of his steaming mug) this is good; how about you grab some of this stuff for our own use. (pause) Now what did you want to talk about?'

Silence. The sergeant took a thoughtful sip of his coffee, as Mark played with his mug. As the pause lengthened, Mark grew impatient.

'C'mon Jack you know me. I'd rather have straight talk than deferential bullshit. If you've got something to say, then say it. We were talking about officers’ careers when you suggested we have a brew.'

'Well it's not that easy sir . . .'

'Hey, if we're gonna talk personally, call me Mark . . . please.'

'OK umm, thanks for that. I've been thinking long and hard ‘bout what to say, and how to say it. I'm having a lot of difficulty . . .'

'OH, for Christ sake Jack, get on with it!'

'Yeah sorry Mark. (Cautiously) Umm, it's about this friendship you have with our corporal, Scott Garnett.'

'Why should that bother you; if there's anything to be bothered about. I try to be friendly with everybody and that includes yourself Jack. (Smiling) I mean the reverse of being friendly is to be antagonistic, and that's just not my nature.'

'Oh, c'mon Mark, I'm not stupid. I reckon your association with Garnett is a bit more than usual everyday friendship.'

'( Crossly) Well what of it? I like and respect him. I surely don't have to explain myself do I? Friendships exist all throughout the ADF, and they're OK as long as the rules of fraternization aren't contravened. (sitting forward and staring at the sergeant) Are you saying that I'm, err . . . we're breaking the rules - are you?'

'(Quickly) Well the point is I just don't know how you can be friends with a bloke like Garnett. (Carefully) I mean you come from very different backgrounds, and are wide apart rank-wise; what would the two of you have in common?'

Silence; Mark stared hard at the Sergeant, who starting to feel uncomfortable, exclaimed,

'Look Mark, if you think I'm impudent or exceeded my authority, let's just leave it . . .'

'No, let's not! I don't have to explain myself to you, but I will. However, before I continue, do you believe I've broken the anti-fraternization rules?'

'I (shit, better be careful how I answer that) really don't know do I. Only you can answer that. To me it seems that the two of you are very close, but to answer you, I don't believe you've contravened the rules. No, I don't.'

'Well now (sternly) be careful, if you do suspect I've acted improperly, we enter a whole new ball game. If you have any suspicion, (now fixing the sergeant with a steely gaze) you'd have to report me, and I would have to give serious consideration to my position . . . to our position.'

Oh Shit!

'Geeze back off please, I didn't want this to be any more than a friendly chat. (Pausing to take a sip of coffee but wishing for something stronger) Now you're going all legal on me and I'm starting to get concerned. For the record, I neither suspect nor have evidence that you have acted in any appropriate manner. Will that clear the air?'

'Yes, it will, and I'm sorry I had to go hard on you. But you do understand that this can be a very serious matter. (The Sergeant nodded OK) Now I'll tell you why I've become friendly with Garnett. Whilst our social levels may be different, I found out that his family relations are as bad, if not worse than, mine. Just in talking with him, it seems he was tossed out of home as I was, at an early age. I not only lost all my friends, but my family turned its back on me.

Jesus, I wonder what it was.

I had to struggle along at a very impressionable age without any close support, and make my way in the world.'

'Umm, can I ask what it was that caused such bad trauma?'

'Yes, you can ask, but I won't tell you - it's personal.'

'Well, have you told Garnett? I only ask because he may use it to establish a hold over you.'

'No! I haven't told the corporal and frankly he hasn't asked; I don't believe it's in his nature to use anything against me. As I read him, he's a very honourable person and completely honest. If you can get him to talk about his upbringing, you'll come to the same conclusion I have. Anyway, he impresses me to the extent that I've asked him to consider applying for Officer Training. I happen to believe he'll make a good officer and, for the record, so would you.'

'(Laughing) Me? You've got to be kidding. Nah I'm happy where I am; you may think I would make a good officer, but I don't. Thanks anyway.'

'Noted. Well, have we addressed your fears about fraternization? I don't believe there's more to discuss. I hope you feel more comfortable with the issue now.'

Pause; Mark drained the rest of his coffee and sat back more relaxed. On the other hand, Jack Reading was struggling with the main issue.

Having gone this far I've got to mention that Garnett is gay. I know I'm gonna be unpopular, but best to have it all out in the open. I owe it to the captain to give him the whole story . . . don't I? Yeah, but I'd best be careful.

'Mark you just now said that Garnett's honest (Mark nodded). Well he hasn't been completely up front with you about . . .'

'Wow there; are you implying he's been dishonest with me?'

Yes, (feeling uncomfortable) there's one aspect of the lad that you don't know about, and I believe you should be told . . . he's err, ummm, . . . he's gay.'

Into the ensuing silence, Mark simply stared at the Sergeant; his gaze was piercing. Reading started to become very apprehensive. Eventually,

'(Slightly intimidating) And you know this because?'

'He told me.'

'Sergeant, (the use of his rank unsettled Reading) what happened to ‘don’t ask, don't tell'?

'What of it?'

'You know as well as I do. It's official policy, and is applicable to all ADF personnel. That includes you and me.'

Silence; the two men simply stared at each other. The atmospherics became slightly chilled. Eventually,

'Geeze I'm sorry Mark. OK I shouldn't have said anything; I'm out of line - OK? Forget it. I'm sorry.'

'No, I can't forget it. This discussion clearly contravenes the ‘don’t ask don't tell' policy of the ADF. I'm wondering why you should clearly ignore official policy. Why Sergeant?'

'(Agitated) If you'll recall the recent press conference , Colonel Stamins stated that, notwithstanding official policy, it would be his tactic to discourage homosexuals from enlisting in his command. I believe you were there Mark.'

'(Hotly) Yes I was, and am just as disgusted now as I was then. Y'see Jack it's all about discrimination. We've already had to endure painful prejudice against coloured people and women in the ADF. Thankfully sanity has prevailed, and these folks are not only accepted, but are now highly valuable members of the ADF. So, what's next? If we discriminate against gay people, what about left-handed folks, short people, tall people , religious people and politicals. On the latter, remember the witch hunt against communists. There was a time when Catholics were banned from holding any office. I could go on.'

'(cautiously) I take your point, but if it's what the Colonel decrees then don't we have to abide by his wishes; and what happens if the boss finds out about your defiance?'

'He already knows (did I tell him, I can't remember?). He also knows that his stance is directly against ADF policy, and if push comes to shove he'll lose the argument. To sum up Jack, where not talking about gay persons here specifically, we're talking about discrimination in general . . . it's very wrong.'

'(Sincerely) Wow, my admiration and respect for you Mark has gone up several notches. It's good to hear someone expound and defend their principles. I don't know if I've got the same guts as you do. T'me the Colonel's like a ship's captain . . . he's god.'

'You may surprise yourself Jack; now, let's get back and earn our pay check; I've enjoyed our talk.'

* * *

4.3

Scott pulled into visitors parking at the BOQ, still mystified why the Captain had asked him to come around an hour earlier than usual. He checked himself in the rear mirror, and then proceeded to Mark's quarters. Upon knocking, Mark called out,

'It's open, come on in Scott, just give me a moment.'

The BOQ digs assigned to the Captain were quite comfortable. Like an oversized motel room, the quarters comprised a separate large bedroom, a kitchen alcove, a decent sitting room and an ample front patio. They had spent some time sitting on the terrace just talking as two friends are wont to do. On several occasions, because of the heat, they'd stripped down to just underwear. Scott had to bear the sight of Mark's near naked sweat soaked body, so near and yet so far away. He turned and looked out through the patio doors past the garden in front.

Here I am alone in the same room again and it's killing me. His presence pervades the whole apartment, from his lingering masculine aroma, to the comfy untidiness, and the lack of any feminine décor. (Sigh) I love him, I know I love him, but it's not enough; I need physical release to soften the pain. (Now watching someone walk past). . . What are you doing to yourself Scott? Jason was wrong; sometimes you just can't settle for things as they are. If the other party can't satisfy your needs, you need to forget him, move on, move away and put the memories aside. OK so it's hard, so it's painful, so it's stressful to even contemplate but, . . . I'll have to do it. I can't wait around forever for someone who can't return my love; I have to be selfish and think of number one. . .

Without warning two bare muscled arms encased him and a voice whispered,

'Don't move Scott, (pause) just let me hold you, I've wanted to do this since I first met you. Oh, you feel good . . . so good.'

Scott's heart began to pound loudly, he was in a state of mild shock. Somehow it wasn't registering that he was being held in a loving embrace, but there was no doubt about it, the voice belonged to Mark, to Captain Mark Peters . . . his Mark!.

'Wha . . .'

'Shush, don't say anything, I've dreamed of doing this, holding you, breathing in your aroma, listening to your heartbeat, and telling you how much I love you.'

With that, Mark took hold of Scott's chin and turned him so they were facing each other; to Scott's astonishment, Mark was naked except for his boxer shorts. In what seemed to be slow motion, Mark pulled Scott close, raised his face slightly, and gently kissed him. At first the kiss was mild, even exploratory, but soon unrequited passions erupted, and both mouths mashed together. Tongues duelled in open mouths seeking dominance, and the need to taste the essence of each other. Eventually they parted; with incredulous eyes Scott gasped,

'Mark . . . Mark; I don't understand.'

For a few seconds Mark just stared into Scott's beautiful blue eyes,

'Scott, I've been longing to hold you close but was afraid my advance would be rejected. However now I don't care because I do care . . . I care very much about you. The lonely nights I've lain in bed thinking about you, wanting to touch you, wanting to kiss you, wanting to smell you, and wanting to caress you; you have no idea, you've captured my heart Scott . . . I love you Scott.'

'But . . . but why now? I mean, I don't understand.'

'Shit, I don't know. I just felt we couldn't go on hiding our feelings for each other. Someone had to make a move, and . . . well, as I'm senior in rank I thought it better if I took a chance and made the first move. (anxious) You do care for me don't you Scott?'

‘Mark, Oh Mark, care for you? I believe I've loved you since the day I walked into your office to meet you. I'll never forget the feelings that soared through me when I first saw you. (Breathlessly) I was gone, I was bewitched.'

For these two souls the atmospherics had subtly changed. It was as if they were in a cocoon sheltered against the outside world. They existed in a world which only contained positives such as, happiness, love, desire, well-being, caring and intimate silence. Gone were all the negatives, and they were free to give vent to their most intimate and primitive feelings.

Looking into Scott's eyes, Mark slowly began to undress him. First he undid the shirt buttons, and then stripped the garment slowly over Scott's shoulders. Then, still holding eye contact, Mark cautiously undid Scott's trouser belt and buttons. With maddening slowness, he undid the zipper and giving a gentle tug, the garment fell to the floor. To complete the process, Mark gently levered Scott's undershirt over his head and discarded it. All that remained were his trousers and shoes resting on the floor. In one simple movement Scott stepped out of these, until he stood in only his army issue boxers.

Now they were both naked and . . . hard, very hard. Without hesitation, they melded and ground their bodies together, experiencing the joy of venting pent up urges. Scott was in a daze as Mark's body pressed against him and their penises touched. The sensation was exhilarating; pure bolts of pleasure surged through his body as he strained to get some relief from his primitive need. As they blended together, they kissed again, and then breaking contact looked into each other's eyes. A question asked became a question answered, and as one person, they moved into Mark's bedroom. There was no need for dialogue, there was no need to say anything, but there was a need to find relief.

As the taller person, Mark lay atop Scott and let nature prevail. They kissed again, and with a sense of urgency their bodies moved as one. Too long had desire been thwarted, too long had emotional need been frustrated, and too long had they been denied their basic need for release. Time ceased to exist, and desperately they individually careened towards climax. Scott was not of this earth, he was not aware of his surroundings, he was only aware that the man he loved was giving him incredible pleasure.

All too soon they both reached a plateau where all control was abandoned, and they surged towards a desperate climax. Too soon Mark began to moan, too soon Scott began to groan, and in a fiery meshing they erupted, spilling their juices between each other, and soaking their underwear which in their haste they'd forgot to remove.

They lay clasped to each other until all the juices had been discharged and the waves of pleasure subsided. After several minutes of companionable silence, Mark raised himself up with his hands, so he was looking down on Scott with their lions still joined together. Scott was confused as he silently gazed up at Mark.

God, he's so beautiful, his brown curly hair is looking a bit dishevelled, but his eyes are so deep and black they mesmerise me. Whatever! This has been so sudden . . . I need answers.

'Mark as much as I could look at you all day, I think we need to talk; no, we definitely need to talk.'

Mark rolled over and then lay on his side facing Scott.

'Yeah I reckon, but before we get heavy I just want to say I've been wanting to kiss and hold you since I saw you on the ground fighting that cretin. Something inside went ‘Oooops'; Somehow I knew our paths would cross.'

'But why now? I mean we've become close over the past few weeks, so close that it nearly killed me . . . the frustration I mean. I so wanted to touch you, to feel you and hug you that I almost became sick with apprehension. I, . . I, . . . had reached such a low a point that I was going to tell you I . . . I loved you, and then end our friendship . . .'

'Maybe I sensed you Scottie; maybe my subconscious was talking to me, and I just knew the timing was right and . . . it was now or never. I'm not a very brave person - emotionally I mean; I've had to endure some really bad emotional crap in the past, so I tend to be ultra-cautious on emotional issues. Umm . . . err, how am I doing?'

(Laughing) Fine, you're doing fine. (pause) If it's possible, I'm falling more in love with you. (Reaching out and running his finger across Mark's lips) Can you tell me more about your past emotional issues or am I asking too much? I'll understand if it's too soon to talk about sensitive issues.'

'No, it's OK. I need to tell you anyway, but we'll have to watch the time; with the Sarge away you and I are the only one's holding the fort. So, I don't want to cause suspicions about the two of us being late . . . together.'

(Smiling) So you asked to see me an hour earlier. Hmm, what a schemer you are lover boy . . . OUCH!'

'Have respect for your superior, Corporal, otherwise I'll have to take disciplinary action in the form of a severe spanking.'

'Sir, please Sir! (Becoming serious) Yeah, I agree it wouldn't look good. (Checking his watch) We've got about a half hour . . . is that long enough?'

'Let me make a start anyway. (Scott nodded). I guess you'll understand when I say that growing up I always felt different from other boys. I was too young to understand what was going on. The only mention of homosexuality was at church, at Sunday School, and offensive comments by other kids. On a family level the subject was never raised - it was like a taboo, an embarrassment, a shame, a subject never to be raised in polite company. (Pause) It was when I was about 9 or 10 that I noticed I lacked enthusiasm and interest in girls. Other kids my age were starting to make suggestive comments about their sexual desires towards females; I couldn’t understand why I couldn't join in. Then, I realized my feelings for guys went way beyond just mateship; I started to have sexual fantasies about guys at school and males in general. I guess this doesn't come as any surprise to you Scott. I reckon it's a familiar story that all young gay guys go through.'

'Umm, yes and no. I mean some of us realise that they're different like you, at an early age. For others, the late bloomers, sometime the penny doesn't drop until they're much older, say late teens or even early twenties. Either way it's still an emotional shit heap.'

'Well anyway, having only had negative responses from both family and society about gays, I was petrified to find out I was gay. I was alone, I was frightened, I was confused, and I panicked. Y'see, our family was part of the local landed gentry, and I was expected to keep the family name unbroken and the property thriving. Of course, this meant I had to sire kids, and for that (pause) y'need a wife, . . . a breeder. (Sigh) I can't remember how old I was, I'd just started studying Animal Husbandry at Uni when I had to face my predicament. I've never felt more wretched; on the one hand I had my duties and responsibilities, and on the other - the real me. They were totally irreconcilable.'

Mark paused, and a far-off look came into his eyes; Scott could almost glimpse the destructive emotions tumbling around in Mark's brain. His fingers lightly kneaded the taut muscles that joined Mark's neck and shoulders.

'I'm sorry Scott, is this too heavy? I didn't want to introduce a sour note given that our relationship is just beginning; you must think I'm a big sook'

'Woo there, don't even think that. I love you Mark just for who you are. We all have problems to face and I firmly believe that a problem shared is good medicine. Keep going, I really want to know all about you, who you are and what you've gone through to be the person you are. But I'm thinking of time; shouldn't we get going back to company office? As you said, best we're not late.'

'Yeah, I lost track of time; you're right, if you still want me to tell, how about we do it this evening over dinner? If that's OK?'

'Deal! But before we go (Scott gently kissed Mark, at first with closed lips and then with mounting passion) don't misunderstand me lover, whilst I love just being with you, and listening to you, my body is craving for carnal relief. I want you Mark . . . No, baby I need you; don't make me wait too long.'

'Oh no I won't, I won't. I don't care what happens, but you're gonna stay the night with me. I'll show you what physical love means.'

Reluctantly, they both got dressed; as their boxers were heavy with semen, Mark had to find two clean shorts for them. They sensibly declined to shower as that would have undoubtable led to more love making.

* * *

4.4

'Thank you, this'll be fine. Umm, can you bring some water and bread rolls soonest?'

'Yes sir, I certainly will. In the meantime, here's your menus and beverage list. Take your time to select what you want, and I'll be right back. Our specials are listed on the chalkboard, or you can order from the menu card. Personally, if you like seafood, the Snapper with asparagus spears, avocado chunks, and served in a peach balsamic dressing, is my particular choice.'

'Thank you, it sounds wonderful.'

'It's always an honour to serve our military people. Now I'll go get your water and when I come back, if you're ready, I'll take your orders.'

Mark and Scott spent a short time making their food selections, and then turned to enjoy the view over Fanny Bay, Darwin. The restaurant itself was small and intimate; it was carpeted in a blue / green soft pile and the walls were basically cream. It had a marine atmosphere with nets hanging from the ceiling and photos of impressive catches adorning the walls. The faint aroma of jasmine mingled with the mouth-watering fragrance of cooked food. They were seated at the front with remarkable views over the Bay.

'It's beautiful isn't it? I'm glad we came here Mark, I love the atmosphere and the scenery.'

'(Laughing) Are you talking about the waiter of the view? On second thought, don't answer that. I only suggested here on recommendation from one of my fellow officers, who came here last week with his missis[1]. I only regret we're in uniform; it may have been better to change into civvies.'

'(Cheekily) No, I reckon we're OK; at least the waiter approved of our uniforms. Do you think I can get him to suck my dick?'

'(Laughing) you slut, that's a definite no! Not unless he sucks mine first . . . OUCH! that hurt!' Anyway, have you decided what you want?'

'Yep, I'm gonna go for the Prawns with avocado dressing, and then the medium rare Scotch filet steak; I think I'll pass on dessert. And you?'

'Sounds good, ummm . . . I'll try Morton Bay Bugs[2], and the fish dish the young guy mentioned; what wine do you want red or white?'

'White . . . I'd like a Riesling or something like that if they have it; I don't like a too dry wine because sometimes the wine can taste a little tart. I'll leave it up to you . . . my main man.'

Mark went back to studying the wine list just as the waiter arrived back.

'OK gents, have you decided what you want to eat?' Scott nodded yes.

'Prawns with avocado and a medium rare scotch filet steak. Please.'

'What about side dishes? They are listed at the foot of the menu.'

'Umm . . . I reckon the scalloped potatoes and spinach puree, please; and can you bring the bread rolls first?'

'Sure can; you look like you're still growing Corporal. I must say though you're growing very pleasantly.'

'Yes, he is, isn't he (peering at the waiter’s name tag) . . . err, Simon. We're very close; now can you take my order.'

'Certainly (a bit embarrassed) what would you like Captain?'

'I'll have the Morton Bay bugs and the Snapper dish you mentioned before. I reckon it’s a good rule to follow, especially from someone so good looking.'

'(Blushing) and the wine sir?'

'Ahhh, the Lindeman's Pokolbin Riesling . . . I reckon one bottle to start.'

Just then a young waitress appeared with a wooden plank on which was a log of some kind of sliced bread together with a dish of unsalted butter. She placed the log down, and at the same time filled their water glasses; the aroma coming from the warm bread was sinful. Seeing Scott's silent query, Simon (the waiter) explained,

'I've taken the liberty of giving you our special mixed grain sourdough bread which is still cooling down; it’s a house specialty and I hope you'll enjoy. If you still want Bread rolls just ask'.

The aroma from the bread was mouth-watering, so Scott and Mark attacked the bread slices with gusto; all conversation ceased as they consumed the bread, and in the process emitted cries of 'fantastic', 'bloody marvellous', and 'incredible'. The wine soon arrived, and after taking a sip, Mark nodded to Simon who proceeded to fill both Scott's and Mark's glasses.

'Good choice Mark, it's exactly what I wanted. It's got a real fresh after-taste and perfectly chilled. I didn't know you were a wine connoisseur but my compliments, it's perfect.'

'Thanks (nodding) Scott, I'm not really; I just enjoy a good glass of wine with meals. It's been a family tradition for many years to have wine with meals. If I'm thirsty I prefer beer, but to just sit back and enjoy special company, wine is the best beverage.'

In the following silence, both men simply looked at each other. It was a companiable silence, a meaningful silence, a silence that gave proof to the bond they had established with each other. Into the silence both guys simply smiled, secretive smiles that conveyed a depth of meaning. The intimacy of their recent physical contact was the glue that joined each to the other.

The moment was broken by the arrival of their first course.

'Here you are gents, Prawns with avocado for the Corporal and Morton Bay Bugs for the Captain; any problems just call me. Now enjoy your meal.'

Scott gazed incredulously at the dish before him. A large Avocado had been chopped into chunks and mixed with fresh peeled Prawns and the result put back into two avocado half shells. Some king of sauce (seafood) was sprinkled around the plate. It was an enormous entre, and he doubted if he could eat it all. Mark's Bugs were more sedate but still colourful and appetizing. They attacked their food with gusto.

'How're ya going Scott, reckon you'll finish all that?'

'It tastes so bloody good. I wish I hadn't had so much bread; the prawn dish is more of a main meal than an appetizer, but it tastes great. What a about yours?'

'Better than expected. (Laughing) I think Simon our waiter arranged that entre exclusively for you; he must think you need extra sustenance, and yes we enjoyed too much bread. It's always the way isn't it? Because you're hungry, diners tend to load up on bread, forgetting that the main meals are filling enough. Anyway, I have the feeling that we're being specially looked after.'

By this time Scott had almost drained his Riesling, so Mark leaned over and refilled both their glasses.

'A toast to . . . us. I have this wonderful feeling whenever I look at you Scott; I can't help marvelling how lucky I am to have met you in the first place, and secondly that you return my feelings. It truly is magic; this is the happiest I've been for a long, long time . . . all thanks to you.'

Scott reached over and squeezed Mark's hand.

'I've been so afraid of love Mark, I've been hurt so much, that I've erected natural defences against loving anyone. People tell me I'm good looking and would have no trouble finding partners; that’s maybe what they see outside, but inside, in the very depths of my being, I'm just a scared young man, who now finds he's in love and . . . marvelling at the wonder of it. I'm wary, but . . .'

Scott was interrupted by the arrival of their main meals. His steak was thick and heavily crusted on the outside whilst Mark's fish looked too good to eat. When the side dishes arrived, the waiter smiled knowingly,

'I reckon it'll be too much for a growing boy like you, Corporal. I asked the chef to make yours medium rare to rare so cut it (Scott was in the process of doing just that) and if you need more cooking I'll take it back.'

'No, no it's perfect; look Mark, look at the inside colour and all the juices running out. I can't wait to taste.'

'OK then, I'll leave you to enjoy; Bon Appetite!'

Mark simply stared at the dish before him. A whole snapper lay on a bed of couscous with Asparagus spears lying along one side. A half avocado had been sliced expertly and lay on the other side with the Peach balsamic dressing liberally dribbled over the entire plate. Mark took one forkful of the fish and sat back with a look of pure bliss.

'Oh god Scott, you should taste this it's incredible; here (transferring a forkful to Scott's plate), try this, it's so good.'

Scott momentarily abandoned his munching and tried Mark's fish.

'Oh wow! That's sensational Mark, utterly delicious. I can understand why Simon recommended the fish, but (sigh) the steak's great too; I'm not gonna finish my meal - I'll bust. At least I'll ask for a doggie bag.'

Silence descended on our twosome as they both tried to do justice to their meals. Finally, they pushed their half-eaten plates aside and signified surrender. The wine bottle being empty, Mark signalled the waiter over.'

'Simon, I reckon I can speak for Mark when I say that's the best meal we've had for a very long time. (Scott nodded his agreement) can we have a refill (looking at Scott for confirmation) and maybe coffee in about a half hour, OK?

'Glad you've enjoyed, really glad. I suppose the foods just marginal at the barracks (both nodded yes) so we're only too happy to oblige. By the way, are you involved in the war game exercises that are in progress?'

'No, only our Staff Sergeant is involved; the Corporal and I are holding the fort, so to speak. Why do you ask?'

'Well, I heard that there was big trouble between the Aussies and Yanks; seems that one of our soldiers seriously assaulted a Yank and there's been hell to play. I don't know any more details; I thought you may be able to enlighten me, but it's obvious you can't. Sorry I raised the matter; I hope I didn't spoil your night out.'

'No, no of course you haven't; Scott and I have thoroughly enjoyed ourselves, and we'll be coming back for sure. As to the issue you raised, we're both in the dark and appreciate you telling us. With these War Games there's always something that goes wrong; we just leave it to whoever's involved to sort it out. Thanks again.'

' OK, let me know if you want more wine or anything to drink with coffee, which I'll bring in about a half-hour.'

'What do you think about that?'

'I don't know Scott, I really don't know. We'll have to wait until our Sergeant gets back to find out what's going on. Even he may not know anything, but let's not spoil our dinner - let's just forget about it.'

'OK, but I'm not gonna let you forget you're promise to continue with your past. I really want to know all about you soldier-boy, what footy team you follow, what your favourite colour is, what music you like, and even down to how often you wank.'

'OK . . . but where was I?'

'You were just starting Uni but were under pressure from your family. I think you were talking about your family and community responsibilities.'

'(looking wistful) OK, yes I remember now. I needed a wife - no a breeder, to keep the family name going. (Sigh) but who? This was a terrible time as I recall; I got sick just thinking about the dilemma I was in. Y'see, out in rural Australia the gay pride movement was non-existent. Our moral code was still controlled by fundamental Christians who would use the pulpit frequently to condemn homosexuality and homosexuals. Abusive language like 'Poofter', 'Queer', 'Faggot' and 'Pansy' was commonplace, even amongst people who professed to being 'Liberal'. I had to put up with it Scott, I had to sit and endure this abuse because there was no alternative. Well that's not quite true is it? I could've come out and moved elsewhere to live a life as my true self. Yep, I could've done that - but I didn't; I was a coward and took the coward's way out - I got engaged. Her name was Helen, Helen Livingston, and she was from another respectable social family. Everyone in the community applauded the match, and it seemed our lives were to be bound together . . . except, whilst she loved me, I didn't love her. (Pause) God I'm so ashamed Scott; I knew our relationship couldn't last, and yet I ploughed ahead concerned only for my own selfish interests, and completely ignoring the hurt that I was going to cause. I . . . (choke) I'm so ashamed.'

'Mark, (reaching out and squeezing his lover's hand) Mark, don't be so heavy on yourself, It's not your fault! It's not your fault Mark; you said yourself that you didn't have any gay safety net to fall back on. You did the only thing you could . . . and that's to survive. If you want a long discourse, it's society's fault by holding homosexuality and gays in contempt. If only they would leave us alone we'd be happy, and no one would have to get hurt. Please Mark continue, and just tell the facts without any morality issues.'

Pause.

'Ok, ok. Yeah, thanks for that. (Pause, while he sipped his wine) Well about two months before the engagement party, my father hired an Indigenous boy as a Farm and Stable hand. His name was Matari, Matari Waruwangul; he was 18, and he was very good looking. We connected, not physically at first, but somehow we knew each other's secret. I've heard about gaydar, but dismissed it as being fanciful, yet it seemed to work with Matari and me. At first we just kissed but, as you can imagine, this led to much more erotic physical endeavours. (Mark stopped and looked intensely at Scott) I don't want to hurt you Scott by going into gory details; I would prefer to talk only in generalities (Scott nodded OK). Well, (another long sip of wine) all this was happening whilst I was getting ready to marry Helen. Matari was devastated when I told him of my plans to marry; if anything, this intensified our relationship and it became very emotional. It also increased my guilt factor; (sigh) now I was planning to hurt two people - and hurt them bad . . .'

' . . . pardon for interrupting, but stuff the other two, what about you Mark? What about your feelings and emotional health? (Scott reached out, grabbed Mark's forearm and have it a gentle squeeze) From what I've heard so far you haven't done anything wrong, except try and reconcile two utterly conflicting lifestyles just to please other people . . . just to please other people Mark - not yourself.'

'That may be Scott, but my forthcoming actions would mean misery for three people, and I did nothing to avert this coming calamity. I was on auto-pilot, I was drained of any emotion, and I carried on like a zombie. But it all came crashing around me on the night of my engagement party.(Mark paused as painful memories consumed him)'.

'Mark, did you love Matari? Had you made any commitment?'

'Well it's easy to say to respond after all this time. I thought I did, I really thought I did, but I was very confused. Looking back, I believe Matari did love me, but did I love him? I'm sorry Scott, I can't honestly answer that question.'

'OK, just thought you may want to unburden yourself of what are - obviously - painful memories. Please continue, sorry for butting in.'

'OK, as I recall, all that day Matari tried to ignore me . . .'

'Sorry guys, but would you like your coffee now and perhaps a brandy to go with it?'

'Umm (Scott nodded OK) yes thanks Simon; yes, a cognac for both of us please.'

'Now where was I? Oh yes. On the day of the engagement party, Matari kept avoiding me; wouldn't talk to me, but just stared accusingly. By the end of the day I was a mess inside, because the more Matari ignored me the more I wanted him. As a strategy I guess it was brilliant. I was so close to tears, I was so close to losing it, that I locked myself away in my bedroom for several hours. My mother was getting suspicious because, on what should have been a happy day, I was obviously distressed. She knew something was wrong, but I refused to talk to her - to anyone. . . .

'Wow, you poor bastard!'

. . . So, when I arrived at the party, which was held in a disused barn, I was drained of any emotion except the need to be with Matari. I felt nothing, nothing for Helen; even my family responsibilities became non-existent. I just wanted Matari. (Pause)(choke) It was while I was dancing with Helen, I looked outside and there was Matari leaning against an old hitching post. He wore tight white jeans and a tan shirt open enough to show his hairy chest. He was smiling with sad eyes and once our eyes locked together, he indicated with his head for me to join him outside. I wasted no time, I suddenly stopped dancing with Helen and rushed outside - no explanation, no apology and no justification.'

'Jesus Mark, (leaning forward with concern) what were you thinking? From what you describe . . . '

Just then Simon arrived with their coffees and liquors.

'Here you are fellas, enjoy your coffee and cognac. I've taken the liberty of providing a selection of chocolates to go with your drinks. I hope you like. Let me know if I can help anymore.'

'Thanks Simon. My boss here was just relating something unpleasant, so the brandy is most welcome.'

Wow, what's going on here? They both look sombre; they must be talking about something heavy.

After taking a sip of his brandy, Scott nodded to Mark,

'You'd just run out of the party, leaving Helen and the rest of the guests astonished. What happened outside?'

'I couldn't control myself, we couldn't control ourselves. Alongside the barn was a small tackle room used for bridles, bits and other saddling gear. The floor was strewn with hay so, without a word we stripped each other naked and indulged in a frenzy of love-making. At some stage Matari penetrated me and I accepted him into my body . . .

Wow, I can't believe it! He's unknowingly told me he bottoms. Wow fantastic! At least we don't have to have an awkward conversation about that. I just hope that my big cock won't hurt him; I guess we'll have fun finding out.

. . . clinging to him desperately. (Taking a sip of coffee followed by cognac) Whilst experiencing the joy of love-making, I was also experiencing the need to never let him go; it seemed the night resulted in a catharsis of emotions and I knew I could never look back. But life sometimes has other plans; we weren't prepared for the cataclysm that ensued nor for the consequences. So lost in each other were we, that we didn't hear Helen come into the room. The first we knew was when she screamed and screamed so loud that others came running. Still entwined, we just lay there in shock, for all to see . . . Fiancé, parents, friends and acquaintances. I don't think . . . '

'My god! OH Mark; that's bloody awful. I've been in bad situations and done ill-advised things, but nothing - and I mean nothing - can come close to the shock you and Matari must've experienced. To have people see you so intimately, would be devastating. I don't believe I could survive that. Go on, take a man-sized gulp of alcohol; this must be painful to tell. What happened next?'

'(Putting down his brandy snifter[3]) I won't go into much detail. Use your imagination. My parents disowned me on the spot, the engagement ring was thrown onto the hay, Matari was fired and I was immediately shunned by the whole community. I existed only in a daze; in a fog of guilt, embarrassment and emptiness. I think emptiness was the worse. I became hollow, aimless, futile, and totally lacking in purpose; I had no future - none at all. And yes, I thought about calling it a day permanently. I don't know what stopped me; I just seemed to pass through that phase. What hurt most was Matari getting fired, and my family disowning me. I lost track of Matari after a little while; I hope he eventually found someone that wasn't going to give him pain. I suppose my parent's reaction was understandable, but what really threw me was my brother Rex; he (sigh) made it plain he wanted nothing to do with me for the rest of my life. My youngest Ken on the other hand, has kept in touch so I'm not completely isolated from my family.'

Mark sipped his coffee and after that he picked up his snifter and drank a healthy slug of brandy. Scott sat back and surveyed his lover who was showing the consequences of revealing such personal details.

'Shit Mark, I don't know what to say. I don't know how you survived such trauma; I mean, to go from being a favourite son to an outcast in the blink of an eye, would destroy most people. But let's put it all behind us now; I love you Mark, I respect you Mark and I'll make sure you're never hurt again. Let's finish our drinks, settle the bill and go home; I want to show you how much I love you.'

4.5

Fuck'em, fuck'em all! I just want to throw up every time I sees those shit-faced bloody Yankees swaggering around preening themselves, and acting superior, the term 'Ugly American' fits real good. These military goons come here to tell us that they knows best. Bullshit! Geeze I hate their arrogance. (Smiling) But theys not all bad eh? What about their bible thumping fundamentalist Christians who fleece poor people out of their hard-earned savings and get blessed for it; ain't that just the coolest? (Ha,Ha) Man ya gotta admire those dudes. But the thing I admire most about these geezers is their hatred of poofters for breakin' Gods law.

Why do our governments allow these deviants to enlist in our bloody army, and practice their disgusting habits without any fear of retaliation? These are the same sicko's that gave the world AIDS; the same sicko's that corrupted our religious folks, and made them pervert young kids in their care. I only hope that God will send them to burn in Hell. Geeze I hate them; the world would be a better place if someone like Hitler would come along and gas 'em all. Yeah Mr. Hitler, ya should've concentrated on Queers instead of Jewish folks, except of course any Yids who were poofters. They disgust me, they nauseate me, they are evil, and God agrees with me.

If our govermints doan kill off these mongrels, I'm gonna do it meself

* * *

4.6

The short car trip going home was excruciating; the atmosphere was rife with sexual tension.. Once back at the BOQ they fell into each other's arms and kissed, gently at first, but then with increasing passion.

With cautious haste they undressed each other, until they stood naked in breathtaking masculine splendour. They kissed deeply, hungrily and passionately, as their nude bodies gyrated together.

Breaking free, Scott led Mark to the bed, and then lay down atop him. In a repeat of the morning's episode, Mark wrapped his legs around Scott and pulled his head down for another searching kiss. Oblivious to the outside world, they revelled in the feel of each other's body; loins thrust against loins, thighs against thighs, penis against penis, and mouth against mouth. This would've continued until they reached orgasm, but Scott had other plans.

Disentangling Mark, he turned their bodies around until they both faced each other's penis in a classic 69. Mark shuddered as Scott took little Mark into his mouth and began to suckle the engorged head. Mark's vocal appreciation continued until he responded and started devouring Scott's erection. They gave and received such pleasure to each other that they writhed in ecstasy; then when Scott's fingers sought Mark's entrance, he moaned deeply, wallowing in the feeling and intensifying his servicing of Scott's penis.

It wasn't long before they reached the point of no return, and arrived at that plateau of pleasure which had only one outlet . . . orgasm. With much wailing, they deposited their seed into each other's waiting mouth, savouring the taste and volume of the other's ejaculation.

Eventually, as the intensity of their orgasms subsided, they made one final swallow and lay on their backs. Mark scooted around to lie alongside Scott, gathered him in his arms and waited till their breathing returned to normal.

'Hey young man, you could very easily turn me into whore; if all my future orgasms are as good as that then I'll happily become a slut - I'll be your bitch. I never thought I'd find someone who would pleasure me as you have, I never thought I'd ever find another man as beautiful as you; I never thought I'd ever be in love again - deeply in love again. I swear to never let anything, or anyone come between us.'

Scott looked dreamily into Mark's eyes and marvelled at how beautiful he was.

Oh, how I wanted to enter him, to feel the heat of his body encasing me and to empty myself within him. But too soon, it's too soon; there's plenty of time to explore and to experiment with our lovemaking. I know I'm big and don't want to hurt him; if I were to force myself on him it could do irreparable harm to him and to our relationship. I'll just have to hasten slowly, and talk it over with Mark; in fact I'll let him make the decision.

Scott rolled over and propped himself on an elbow facing Mark. Silently he drank in Mark's features from his brown curly hair, to his dark brown eyes and kissable lips. Mark looked serene and gentle. After a moment,

'Hey Mark, can we talk a bit?'

Mark rolled over on his elbow and faced Scott.

'I'm lying here remembering the most wonderful orgasm I've ever had, and you want to talk. Why spoil the moment; I'm recovering my strength so's to give you another blow-job, and you want to talk. OK, what about.'

'Us, I mean we've got a big problem don't we, just being together; well it’s a problem for the army. I'm talking about fraternization rules. It's hard enough being gay, but to flaunt the socializing rules could be a big problem.'

Silence, as Mark looked at Scott thoughtfully.

'(Sigh) yes, you're right we could be in trouble. I hadn't given it much thought before as we were only being friendly with each other. Now that we've made a commitment emotionally and physically to each other, I guess we'll have to find a way around then issue - any thoughts?'

'Nah, (sigh) I could talk to Jason (noticing Marks questioning) umm, Corporal Jason Meadows, but all he'll say is we're both mad - nothing new there. When I get into the office tomorrow I'll look up the rules and see if'n there's a way around them. That's all I can think of now; what about you lover?'

'Good plan . . . I'll do the same. If anything, we should know them thoroughly to see if'n there's any loopholes.

4.7

The temporary Command tent was quiet, except for the background sounds of electronic equipment. Sergeant Jack Reading was drafting his final report on the operations he supervised. All in all, it had been a successful exercise from his standpoint. He'd been tasked to assess the level of preparedness of all Aussie units participating, and he was pleased with the result. Just as he was about to save his report, a loud rumbling voice disturbed the quiet.

'Hello there, I'm looking for a Staff Sergeant Jack Reading; anyone know where I can find him?'

Jack looked up and saw a very large African-American Warrant Officer blocking the entrance way. He looked scary.

'That's me . . . can I help you?'

'Names (shaking hands) Bartholomew Madden - Bart for short. Anyplace we can have a private talk?'

'Sure (mystified), let's go to the canteen; at this time of day it'll be quiet.'

And it was; the two men obtained their beverages and retired to a secluded corner table where they could not be heard. The US guy was huge, well over 6 feet and probably 265 pounds all of which was pure muscle. He had a gold filling in otherwise perfect teeth, and although his size intimidated, he seemed gentle. They spent a few silent moments sizing each other up before Jack opened the innings.

'Well big fella, what can I do for you; should I be concerned?'

'Nah, nothing personal, (taking a sip of coffee) I just want to get some help from you if I can about an investigation I'm pursuing - and please call me Bart.'

'Well Bart, why don't you tell me what this's all about and I'll see if I can help; whatever you say it's just between us two. I guess that when a US Military copper comes calling it isn't about selling tickets to the Army Ball.'

'(Laughing) No It's not. (Becoming serious) Several weeks ago a body was found severely brutalized, in a part of Darwin known for gay guys trolling for other gay men. The guy was an American, so the investigation became our responsibility. There seemed to be no motive except 'gay bashing', but we had neither clues nor trace evidence to follow. My superiors were prepared to write it off as unsolvable, with the poor guy being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Except for me - except for me. Gays in America have had to endure as much discrimination as have we coloured folks, and I simply could not let this just get written off as a cold case. I had just started my personal investigation when last night another fella was found severely bashed; almost the same location and the same injuries as had our first case. The big difference however was that the victim is still alive - barely. He's in a coma at Darwin Base Hospital in intensive care, but before he lost consciousness he kept whispering, ‘Aussie', Aussie'.'

'So (carefully) you think the guy was trying to say his attacker was an Australian?'

'Look, it also could mean that he was with an Aussie when he was attacked; I guess there are several scenarios around the term ‘Aussie' and I intend to follow through any and all of them. But then I realized I needed some help and that's why I came to you.'

'I'm flattered Bart, but you realize I'm not an MP[4]. What about the Darwin police, surely they should be handling the investigation?'

'They are, in as much as they're letting me continue with the investigation. I'm under orders to pass the matter of to them and eventually your MP's as soon as I come up with anything substantial. It's complicated because, whereas the location is on Australian soil, the victims are US personnel.'

'Yeah I see the dilemma; please don't be offended when I say that our own MP's should join you in your enquiries. I've got a good mate that I can recommend; other than that, how do you think I can help?'

'Well, I'm sure it's the same in your army, but we find that Staff Sergeants are closer to the troops than MP's are. I mean, soldiers are more inclined to open up about personal stuff to their sergeant than they would to coppers. Am I right?'

'(Laughing) Yep that’s true, I know what you mean. So how do you think I can help?'

'Ok, I know it's a long shot, but do you know of anybody who may be prone to violence and is anti - gay, and anti-American?

. . Bloody Corporal Bert Kreek. Oh, how I'd love to nail that bastard.

'There are a few obvious ones, but I've got to be careful I don't drop someone in the shit unjustly. If, let's say for instance it becomes obvious that an Aussie is concerned, what will you US guys do?'

'Well protocol dictates that because the offense occurs on Aussie soil, we'd have to handle the case over to Australian authorities. I don't know what your conventions are, but in America, if a US serviceperson is the primary suspect or, if she or he is charged with a crime, the case is passed over to the Judge Advocate and thence to the Military Police. Is it the same with you guys?'

'Yeah, more or less. Some people are a little skittish about the military sitting in judgement on their own, but that's the current position. So, what do you want me to do now?'

'Well, I just need another set of grey cells on the job. If you could mosey around and pick up any gossip from the ranks, I'll do the same. The only lead so far is the mention of 'aussie' by the victim, and I can't do anything whilst he's in a coma. We couldn't find any satisfactory forensic evidence at the site so that's a dead end. (Sigh) It's a frustrating case to be sure.'

'Wait a moment Bart. What about the gay fraternity, maybe they can help? Maybe they've seen things but are too scared to come forward. I know a gay corporal who just may be able to help. I'm not talking about direct evidence, but just any observation that could lead us to the killer. Another thing, if he's already killed once and nearly twice, I reckon he'll still be on the prowl. We should, no must, get the word out to the gay community to be careful - to be careful and report anything suspicious. What do you think?'

'Yeah, that's right - you've got a damn good point. I can enlist the help of our gay people; I'm sure somebody, somewhere has heard or seen something.'

At that they paused and after taking a few sips of coffee sat back thoughtfully. Jack's mind was working overtime,

I'm outta my depth here, I don't know anything about crime detection, but I do know someone who can help.

'Look Bart, I reckon the next step is for me to introduce you to an MP who’s a friend of mine. His name is Grant Williams and holds the rank of Warrant Officer Class One. I've known Grant since we both enlisted at the same time, and I can vouch for him. As you said the matter is complicated in terms of jurisdiction, but Grant's a no-nonsense guy and won't get mired in red-tape. How does that sound?'

'I knew Jack, coming to you first was the right thing to do.'

 

 

[1] Wife

[2] A cross between a large prawn and a small lobster. Utterly delicious.

[3] A balloon glass used especially for cognac

[4] Military Police

I've long been uncomfortable with the military having a separate judicial system. As being both Judge and Jury, the Defence forces can cover up problems within the services that should be transparent.
Copyright © 2018 gsealbe; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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This investigation looks like it will have politics written all over it. What a bloody mess!😆

 

 

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Colored? American blacks today don’t use that word.

Edited by Geemeedee
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