The Killers: A Love Story

I'd have a high-noon shootout and move on to the next gun fight.

Motel stay was a total pain in the ass. And there was always the problem of Buster, who would put anybody's "pet friendly" policy to the test.

Most of those kind of places are thinking of a customer with an eager Yorkie. Not a muscle-bound brute who looks like the hound from hell, constantly slobbers and smells.

So I sold our old place in Georgetown and dropped $350k on a brand new 43 foot Entegra Motor Coach.

After that Buster and I toured in style.

We meandered around the Country depending on where the engagement was. It was a nomadic existence. But it perfectly fit with my detachment from the human race.

I was never a part of anywhere.

That's the reason why Buster and I were parked at the Tombstone Territories RV Park one February day.

It was ironic. Given what I do I knew I would end up in Tombstone eventually.

The town of Sierra Vista is a charming little place. It is up in the Arizona high plains. But I wasn't a High Plains Drifter like Eastwood.

I was there to do a covert penetration at Fort Huachuca.

That is the Army's main Enterprise Network Technology Center, even if it is located in old Apache territory.

Like Cochise, I was interested in seeing if I could take the place down.

Sierra Vista has maybe 45,000 residents, which in that part of Arizona can look sparse. But there are perhaps 18,000 on-base. So you get the sense that the Army owns the place.

Since this was a clandestine exploit I had a contact at the Fort.

He was a bright-eyed-and-bushy tailed snake-eater, with that strapped down West Point glint in his eye.

I charge the client upwards of a quarter-million for one of these kinds of gigs. Nevertheless, they can be a bit dangerous.

I was about to commit a criminal act that could get me shot and would definitely have me sent away for a long time.

That is, if I didn't have an iron clad get-out-of-jail-free card from the Pentagon.

Major Charlie Rafferty was that card.

Of course we had to be surreptitious about our meeting.

So that Friday we got together at a place called "Linda's".

Linda's is an archetypal off-base honkey-tonk that claims to have the prettiest bartenders in Tombstone Territory. They serve a very decent Four Peaks draft so both Rafferty and I had a 20 ouncer in front of us as we went over the ground rules.

Basically I was on my own with the penetration. The objective of the exercise was to "count coup" on the 9th Signal ASC's network control room.

That was an old Indian concept of warfare where the point was to physically touch your adversary in battle rather than kill them.

Nonetheless, if I successfully counted coup the Army was in deep shit. At least that was the idea.

I was not anticipating any problem getting through most of their standard defenses. I have been doing penetration exploits since I was sixteen.

But as I got into their core areas I might run into something that I couldn't get around. And so Charlie was there to bail me out if I had problems.

I didn't tell him what I was planning, except the entry part. The reason was that I still had no idea what I was going to do. I have to study the nooks and crannies to find the holes.

We talked while Charlie ogled the bartenders. He was a single 32 year old guy and I didn't blame him. If I wasn't totally neutered by life I might look at them too. They were indeed very attractive.

Then, a woman came through the door. She was with a flock of secretary birds from the base.

I have no idea what drew me to her. But it was like seeing an oasis of cool sparkling water in the middle of the Sahara Desert. I could almost hear celestial music.

After six years of feeling nothing I was spellbound.

She had long blond hair, huge blue eyes and a deep golden Arizona tan. The tan contrasted perfectly with the classy white silk blouse and the businesslike pencil skirt.

She looked like she was a little older than the rest of the women but her body was superb.

I will admit that I am fascinated by nice big titties. Janet had an amazing rack. And frankly that item is something I absolutely have to have if I ever want to kick the tires so-to-speak.

This new woman had exactly the same kind of perfect boobs that Janet had. And suddenly, after six years of nothing I felt a stirring.

Charlie noticed my glance and said, "She's gorgeous isn't she? But you can forget about her. That one's the ice queen. She'd make the princess from "Frozen" seem like a slut.

"She has been hit on by whole infantry brigades. And her answer is always 'back off!!!'

"I've tried her myself and she acted like I wasn't even there.

"She never goes out. Either she has the world's most powerful vibrator, or she's a dyke."

I stared at the woman. I watched the animation and good humor play across her very intelligent face as she interacted with her group.

And mice began to nibble at my brain stem.

I felt like I knew her.

Of course this was a Base that specialized in what I did. And since she was clearly a General Schedule employee I might have come across her at some other time in some other facility.

But the feeling wouldn't go away. Even more amazingly I was captivated by her.

I hadn't as much as noticed another woman since Janet's death, let alone wanted to talk to one. So my reaction was a fucking miracle – no pun intended.

Did Janet have a long lost sister, or a cousin?

In fact this new doppelganger reminded me so much of Janet that I had to get away ASAP. The profound feeling of longing and regret was like slowly ripping the scab off a wound.

I dropped a couple of twenties on the table and bolted.

On the way out I told Charlie that the next time he would hear from me would be to announce that I owned their systems; or for him to call off the provost marshal.

Either way I was going to get very well paid.

One of the nice things about traveling from place-to-place is that every town has something neat and interesting to experience.

In the case of Sierra Vista it was – and I kid you not – the annual Cochise Cowboy Poetry and Music Gathering.

It is the sort of event you might expect in Monterey California, not in a place located less than twenty miles from the OK Corral. But there it was.

And it was really neat.

The following morning, which was a Saturday, Buster and I prowled around the various venues. We even sat in on some of the poetry reading. It was cool.

The local population was giving us a wide berth. Buster does that to people. Even if he is just walking next to me like a little lamb.

That was when I saw her wandering around the front of one of the downtown stores. The local merchants must love the annual Cochise Cowboy Poetry and Music Gathering.

She was alone, which was a crime against nature. Somebody that hot ought to be accompanied by a man. Maybe she WAS a dyke.

She was wearing a demure pair of flared white boating shorts that showed off gorgeously muscled legs. The cork three inch heels on her sandals only made her calves look even fuller and rounder. And the yellow spaghetti top made that splendid bust look like two huge elegant mountains with a deep valley in between.

She radiated "antisocial", just like me.

She seemed to be killing time by browsing the Fair, which was exactly what I was doing. I kept following her trying to remember where I had seen her before.

Inexplicably, I found myself wanting to actually tap her on the shoulder and ask her. That was a disquieting reaction.

I had not felt the need to interact with a female in six long years. In fact, in that period of time I had not felt any emotion at ALL except loss and grief.

This new sensation was totally unexpected and somewhat unsettling.

Maybe it was the fact that she reminded me so much of Janet. She had the exact same general configuration but all of the details were different.

This one had a long sheaf of thick blond hair. Janet's hair was auburn and cut in a preppy bob that practically screamed Stanford MBA. This one was a blue eyed blond with the same kind of perfect features as Janet. But Janet was Italian while this one looked like an ex-California beach bunny.

I finally walked up behind her. I just wanted to politely ask her where we had met before.

She turned abruptly around with that pissed-off look that women get when they think they are being stalked.

So maybe I wasn't so stealthy after all??!!

I saw the "back off creep" in her eyes. Then they widened. She let out a little shriek of terror. Covered her face with both hands and fled at high speed.

I have had women turn me down before. But I have never had one act like Satan himself had just materialized in front of her. It was totally bewildering.

I said, "Buster, stay here."

He said in his low rumbling voice, "Whatever you say boss." And sat.

I took off after the mystery woman.

She was fleeing toward the parking lot like she was being chased by Cochise and his entire band of renegade Apaches.

She almost made it to her car. But remember I'm a runner.

She turned to face me, chest heaving with passion.

AND IN THAT INSTANT I KNEW WHO SHE WAS.

But my brain was telling my eyes that they were totally full of shit.

Was I having some kind of stroke!!!? I thought that ghosts only came out at night!!!

She was breathing, actually gasping for breath.

I hesitantly said, "Janet?"

What do you say when the person who you have been mourning every minute of your life for the past six years suddenly turns up in a backwater cow town in Arizona?

She said with real fear in her voice, "Davey – you have to get out of here."

I was still processing the input that my brain was telling me was erroneous data.

So my speech was limited to single syllable words.

I said, "Why!!??"

She said anxiously, "Because your life is in danger."

My brain still hadn't come back on-line.

Once again I said, "Why??!!"

Janet said, "Because I pissed off some very bad men. And if they think that Janet Witger is still alive they will kill me and everybody associated with me.

"The only thing that has protected YOU so far is the fact that they believe that I am dead."

Then her features crumbled she covered her face with her hands and she started to sob, "I did it to keep you alive baby. You have to forget that you ever saw me."

Suddenly it all fell into place. The drug-cartel, the financial planning, the FBI and the closed coffin – everything!!!

She was in WITSEC.

Running into her in Sierra Vista might seem totally implausible. But it wasn't like it was the 1 in 300 million shot that it might appear to be.

Fort Huachuca is a very small place.

Neither she nor her handlers might have thought about it. But she was working at the one place in the entire Country where I was practically guaranteed to eventually show-up.

Perhaps there was some subconscious wishful thinking going on.

I didn't know the details yet, But I DID know that I was not going to lose her again in this lifetime.

I said, "Is the Marshall anywhere around here right now."

Still sobbing she said, "No, it's been long enough that I just have to report to them every month."

I said, "So nobody in this immediate vicinity knows that we know each other."

She dried her eyes and through her snuffling she said, "Probably not. I have been dead long enough that they seem to have forgotten about me. But we can't associate or somebody will eventually put two-and-two together."

I said, "Look – I would rather be dead than spend one more second without you. There has to be some way. Can't we go someplace and talk?"

I could see the emotional war that was going on inside her.

It was obvious that she wanted that to happen more than she wanted to stay alive.

She looked around furtively and said, "Where are you staying? Maybe I can visit you there?"

I am an expert in clandestine operations and one of the tenets of good tradecraft is to make the lie bold.

So I told her, "Look, I'm a widower and you are a hot woman. So why don't you just mosey on back to the place that you so unceremoniously exited and I will pick you up like the lonely buckaroo that I am.

"It would be nothing out of the ordinary for a fellow like me to want to tap into some local action."

She gazed at me with THAT look. It's the one that never fails to melt the soles of my Topsiders.

I could see her figuring the odds in her head. Then she smiled with acceptance and said, "Lovely idea cowboy. I'll see you in a couple of minutes. Remember though, you are going to have to buy me breakfast."

She turned and went sashaying off, her tight white shorts showing off her marvelous ass.

I missed that intelligence. I missed her ass.

Buster and I sauntered up to her 25 minutes later. I said, "Hi – I'd like to introduce myself – I'm Davy Witger and this is my old pal Buster. We're not from around these parts."

She looked sentimental.

I said, "What?"

She said, "You still have Buster."

I said, "Who are you happier to see, him, or me?"

She said, "Why HIM of course, silly."

And she lightly touched my arm in that flirtatious way that all women use to indicate interest.

I also missed that fantastic sense of humor.

To anybody watching it looked like a guy and his dog were about to get laid."

I said loudly enough for the people around us to hear, "Well then perhaps I should buy you a drink. I have a place north of Huachuca City."

Stupid line I know. But exactly what it was going to take to convince people that I was horny and she was a local push-over.

Then it dawned on me that her name wasn't Janet.

I said, "By the way, what's your name?"

She said, "Janey Winslow at your service kind sir."

Clever, keep the name close so no slip ups.

All of the way to my car we talked and she flirted.

I haul a car behind the RV to serve as my local transportation. But that doesn't mean that it has to be frumpy. Mine is a John Cooper works Mini coupe with 230 horses under the hood.

It's convertible. So we rocketed out of town.

Buster sat posed magnificently in the small back seat with his ears and tongue coursing out behind him in the slipstream, like the pennants on a clipper ship.

It was a fifteen minute drive at 100 miles an hour. There wasn't much to say because it was hard to hear yourself think over the roar of the tuned exhausts and the wind noise.

We parked and Buster wandered off to do his business. We stood together at the door of the RV and watched him.

My heart was beating wildly and my emotions were tossing like the Atlantic in a hurricane.

All I could hear was the little voice in my head prancing around yelling, "She's alive!!!"

But I said as casually as I could, "So what do you do for a living Janey?" It was strictly a way of carrying on the act while I got myself under control.

She said, "I am one of the lead auditors in the base logistics command. I do simple auditing and control tasks as a GS-14."

THAT was an extreme underutilization of talent but it would keep her under everybody's radar.

Buster finally finished and I popped the door.

Janet entered, proceeded by Buster who headed for his food dish.

I stepped up behind her and sealed the door.

I turned and she launched herself at me sobbing like her heart was going to break.

She turned her face up to me and we had one of those hot tongue swapping kisses that only Janet can give.

Six long years melted away like they never happened.

She was making loud wanton moans through our joined mouths. I swept her up in my arms, lips still fastened to hers and walked the 30 feet down the length of the vehicle to the bedroom at the back.

I tossed her onto the bed. We were both animals in heat.

Still loudly moaning, she tore off her top and unsnapped her bra. Those perfect tits fell out and rested delectably on her rib cage.

I thrashed my way out of my pants. She whipped her shorts and panties down her leg.

I literally ripped my shirt off. Then I was on top of her - and in her.

She screamed from the sheer sensation. I let out a groan so loud that it must have moved the needle of the people doing the seismic monitoring in Tucson.

She was as hot and wet as ever. And her insides were berserk.

She elevated her legs and locked them at the ankle around my ass humping back at me wantonly.

And I pounded her with six years of pent-up yearning and lust.

She had two monster orgasms in perhaps five minutes. Or maybe it was just one continuous one with two peaks.

Anyhow, the shrieking would probably have had the people in the surrounding RVs calling the police if it had not been for the excellent sound insulation of my deluxe unit.

I only came once. But you guys can probably imagine how hard you would cum if you had not had sex in over a half a decade.

With her and my contribution I was planning on burning THAT set of sheets.

Having gotten our absolute need for each other out of the way, it was time to talk.

She spent a lot of time in the lavatory. When she came out I had two cups of chamomile tea waiting for us.

She sat down in the galley booth opposite me. Needless to say, there was a lot to talk about.

I said, "Before you say anything I need to tell you that I know."

She looked horrified. Like that was the last thing she thought I would say.

But she understood what I meant. You could see the shame and hurt flash across her eyes. She was totally shocked. Then she focused.

She said, "I probably don't have to ask how you found out. But I still don't understand."

I said, "I overheard something in Chicago that made me suspicious. So I opened up the book that was Whitley Reynolds.

"I know that you fucked him and I know about the money laundering. I had your phone bugged as well but when I used the bug the only thing I found out was that you were dead."

She looked sad and ashamed and said, "He fucked me the second time we were down in Atlanta. It was the usual story. I had a little too much to drink and up to that point he seemed like nothing more than a good friend. I trusted him"

I said, "I know, I read all of your emails."

She blushed and then paled but she continued, "So you know that he got to me the same way you did when we first met. I thought of him as a friend first.

"I would have seen through a seduction. But there was never much of that stuff. It was two colleagues interacting, maybe the best term is 'flirtatiously'. I thought it was harmless."

I thought to myself, "I would call it more of an emotional affair."

But, the situation for both of us was totally different now. We had lived six years apart and attitudes and perspectives change a lot in that period of time.

Especially when you think that the other person is dead.

She said, "I did not expect him to attack me. I wasn't so drunk that I didn't know what I was doing. But my guard was down.

"It seemed natural to go back to his room to review the plans for the next day. The second he closed the door he was all over me.

"It was forced sex at the beginning. He had me plastered against the wall, one of my boobs out and his fingers in me just seconds after he started kissing me.

"I struggled for perhaps ten more seconds. But when he got his fingers working down there I was done.

"That seriously lit my fire. And from that point on it was a conscious act.

"It went on for some time. And I basically gave him the fucking of his life that night.

"It was not anything that I had planned. Or would have done willingly – at first, that is.

"Afterwards I was deeply remorseful and ashamed of myself. I knew what I had done. I am not THAT kind of person.