Date: Sat, 2 Apr 2016 17:45:43 +0000 (UTC) From: Ty Stoner Subject: Lift and Let Die. Chapter 4 Hey All, Since 3 is rather short - I'm not going to make you wait for 4. So here it is. As always, hope you're enjoying it. The story is all mine, all fictional, not based on anything else or any persons real or whatever. As I said earlier, I have read a few "action/spy" novels lately - and this is my version...full of hot guys, doing stuff hot guys do! :) If you like, drop me a note: Ty_Stoner2002@yahoo.com Chapter 4 : The Escape..................... Captain Jake Stinson was not a man touched by failure. Graduating at the top of his class at South Carolina's famed Citadel Army training college, Stinson quickly rose up the ranks of the Army serving several times overseas, in wars that appeared on the front page of USA Today, and more than a few wars that didn't appear anywhere. Stinson was a proud serving member of "...the U.S. Army's special operations unit organized for the conduct of missions requiring rapid response with surgical application of a wide variety of unique special operations skills..." The Army never referred to it by its common name "Delta Force". Several years of successful service and multiple awards and commendations had earned him an invitation to further training at the USA's most top secret training facility, located about an hour's drive south-west from the Pentagon in Warrenton Virginia. A semi-rural town located nearer to historic civil war era battle fields than modern shopping centers, yet the neighbourhood contained some of the largest and most sophisticated communications equipment ever invented. Visitors to Warrenton should have been surprised to see the massive power handling and transmission lines entering what looked to be ordinary office buildings on the site fenced off by tall barbed wire fences, but those who knew of the many floors of top secret underground training facilities knew there was much more to this facility than you'd expect. Captain Jake Stinson knew enough to know many of the secrets of the Warrenton Training Facility, he knew how to kill a man in over 130 specialized ways and always make it look like an accident, but right now he didn't know the one thing he needed to know. He didn't know the location of David Tatuaggio and the vial of altered stem cells now missing from the laboratory at Dr Tyler Stone's home. "Call Langley right now and get satellite tracking on that car," Stinson barked as he surveyed the wreckage of the Stone laboratory. Rubble and broken medical equipment was strewn around the room, much of it still smoking leaving an acrid, bitter smell in the air. Several of the security men in black suits continued to stand around seemingly looking for something more to shoot. On the ground, Lars was bleeding from an apparent gunshot wound, his weapon kicked from his hand after he had been felled with the barrage of gunfire. "Now tell me," Stinson leered over Lars' fallen body, " where did they go?" Squatting down beside Lars, he jabbed a finger into an open bullet wound and twisted it as Lars shrieked in pain. "Tell me what I want to know and you'll be fine. Don't tell me, and..." his voice trailed off as he withdrew his finger from the hole and blood poured out. "You thought you could live forever with your science, now it's your decision if you live through the next 5 minutes." The Doctor knew science and medicine, but the Captain knew pain and how to get needed information. Many in the intelligence community now believed torture an unreliable technique, but to Stinson, people were always unreliable - he decided it shouldn't matter in this situation any more than someone who was chronically late for an appointment. Either Lars would be useful, or he wouldn't. It wouldn't matter either way in the long run, Stinson was going to get what he wanted. "I won't tell you anything," Lars said defiantly through the pain, adding, "...I don't know anything!" when he realized this might be the end for him. "No," Stinson said thoughtfully. Casually taking out his pistol, he put a .40 through Lars' head. Turning to another agent standing nearby, Stinson ordered, "Clean this damn place up would you. It's a mess." then he stepped over the body and walked out. ==================================================== Jordan Jerusco wasn't your ordinary bio-science lab tech, but he was an extraordinary high speed driver of a fleeing maserati. He had spent much of his life volunteering in some of the harshest environments on the planet. From Ghana to Tanzania he had seen the ravages of poverty, disease and civil war and this wasn't the first time he had seen a gunshot wound. He knew from the location of the bullet, some surgery would be required to repair internal damage, but none of that mattered if David continued to bleed at current rates. Reaching his arm over David's body, he felt for the entry wound. The bullet had passed through the car door, through David's lower arm and lodged itself right below the surface of his abdomen, possibly puncturing the cecum of the large intestine. Fortunately, enough force had been taken off the projectile that removal would be possible, as soon as they could find a location to safely perform some minor surgery. Holding his hand against the wound attempting to slow the flow of blood, Jordan knew he had little time to spare. David was unconscious now and slowly sinking into the abyss and needed a blood transfusion as soon as possible or the quickly diminishing blood supply in his system would begin to shut down other organs. If that started, it would be very difficult to stop. Looking into David's pale face, Jordan remembered Lars' promise from earlier, "...whatever happens...we keep you safe." Lars was certainly dead by now Jordan thought, so it was up to him to ensure this promise was kept. Jordan knew there was a veterinary clinic along the main road out of town that would have the supplies he needed to keep David alive long enough for the vitamin K+ to kick in, and hopefully save his life. He just needed to buy David a couple of days, after which the effects of the stem cells inserted into his liver would be permanent. Pulling off the main road into a gravel parking area, Jordan didn't waste any time stopping the car right in front of the clinic. He raced around the vehicle and lifted David's limp, blood soaked body out of the vehicle and carried him toward the wooden door. Barging through the door, there were no people to be seen, and for a moment he thought there was no one there at all. Old posters of dogs and cats, and flea medication plastered the sick light green painted walls. "Help me!" He called out. "Is anyone there?" His eyes raced around the room and realized that the medical equipment, if there was any, wasn't out here, so it must be in the back. Quickly he proceeded through the swinging doors at the back of the room and was met in the corridor by a woman in a lab coat. Her name tag read, Doctor Stephanie Zoshi. "We're a veterinary clinic, not a hospital!" She screamed. "I'll call 911!" she said as she quickly moved toward the phone on the nearby wall. "No you can't!" Jordan ordered. "Please you must trust me." The urgency of his voice, and sincerity of his face seemed to momentarily confuse her. She stopped and looked at him strangely. "Please Dr. Zoshi, tell me where I can put him. He needs blood." Jordan said commandingly. "Come through here," she motioned toward an operating room near the back of the corridor. Jordan quickly followed instructions and layed David down on a larger stainless steel operating table for large domestic pets. "But I don't know what we can do about blood?!" She said almost panicked. "I'm O negative," Jordan explained his plan, he would be the universal donor. Direct transfusion wasn't common since clotting was always a risk and usually it left scars on both the donor and the recipient. But Jordan knew his radial artery was strong and healthy and could handle the rapid transfusion of blood into David's receiving vein. Remembering his time in Africa, when medical supplies were difficult to find, he quickly fashioned a couple of heavy gauge syringes, needles and tubing into a channel that would push his blood into David's body. The woman had begun examining the wound in David's arm where the bullet has passed right through. She quickly cleaned the wound, and not finding much damage was able to begin closing the wounds. Then she moved on to extracting the bullet and further investigating the puncture on the side of David's torso. Jordan carefully took a scalpel and cut into his arm revealing the artery he was looking for. Bracing for the pain, he inserted the needle and blood began to flow through the tubing with surprising pressure. Quickly attaching the tubes to his arm with surgical tape so it wouldn't move or disrupt the flow of blood, he began to look for a place to insert the other end into David. Finding the perfect vein in his left arm, he expertly inserted the needle and blood was now flowing between the two men. Again, Jordan carefully stretched the surgical tape around David's arm with the syringe now giving David, his own dark red life force. Knowing how important it was to keep the blood flowing, Jordan immobilized both his and David's arms, keeping them close together to allow the blood to continue its flow. "You seem to know a bit about medicine," the Dr Zoshi observed." Are you a doctor?" "Mostly lab work," Jordan replied, " but I did a lot of volunteer work in Africa about a decade ago." "Your friend's had a bad day," she said as she began closing the bullet wound, " but I think you got him in here fast enough to save his life." With his free hand, Jordan checked David's vitals...breathing, heart rate, both weak but definitely rhythmic. He wasn't going to die today. Jordan sighed with relief as he smiled and put his hand gently over David's beating heart. Jordan knew that David's heart now was filled with his own blood, and that blood was the reason it continued to beat. It's a powerful thing to save someone's life. It creates a bond between the two people that can never be broken. Initially Jordan had looked at David as nothing more than a lab rat, now he had risked his own life to save him. Beside his arm, Jordan could feel David's cool limb receiving his own blood. He wanted to wrap his arms around David, to warm him to life faster, to will him to live over the universal law of entropy. Everything will eventually break down and deteriorate, but today, Jordan stood between that great law and demanded the forces of nature back down. An hour had passed since their escape from the mansion and Jordan knew they needed to keep moving if they were to survive. His mind was racing trying to decide what to do next. Would they know the car we were driving? It was very distinctive, it wouldn't hide well in any city. Would they know the direction we were travelling? How long did we have before... That thought was cut off quickly, when the doorbell rung, and it was clear that someone was coming into the clinic. Jordan's face shot a look of fright to Dr Zoshi who looked back with equal surprise. Shrugging off her fear, she said, "I'll go take care of the next patient. Your friend will be fine, but do not move him. He will need at least a full day of rest." Dr Stephanie Zoshi was not a woman who frightens easily. An immigrant from Somalia she had seen her fair share of death and violence and the sight that met her when she arrived in the reception room was one she recognized from her home country. A sight she had seen many times growing up a young girl in a town that was terrorized by men in military uniforms who always felt they could order people to their whims. There were 3 men carrying semi-automatic weapons slung over their shoulders and one man wearing a dark suit - yet seemed to be in charge of the others. He quickly pulled out his ID and flashed it to her. "Captain Jake Stinson, US Army Ma'am, " he said trying to muster a friendly tone, ", and I'm looking for the driver and passenger of that vehicle parked outside in your lot." "Why is the US Army making demands here?" Zoshi asked. "You have no authority to do that." She walked over to the door and looked out the front to see the bullet ridden maserati and a half dozen other vehicles driven by the army now milling in front of the building and in her reception area. "It's a matter of National Security, Ma'am." Stinson replied, clearly not wanting to be wasting any time with this woman. "Now, I've been patient enough. You'll take us to them, or I'll have my men search the place." Now it was clearly a threat. "They're in surgery now. One of them is almost dead." She said, angry at the threatening tone of the military man. "Give me 10 minutes to finish wrapping up the wounds, and then you can have them." An evil smile spread across Stinson's face. At that moment, Zoshi realized perhaps the Captain wasn't interested in capturing them alive. She had to do whatever it took to stall them. to give her patients a chance to escape. "You," she said indicating the Captain. "You come back with me to the surgery room and watch me finish up there. You can have them as soon as I'm done." There were no other options other than cooperate fully. Zoshi opened the door leader to the back half of the building and Stinson walked through, looking around quickly to survey the corridor. "Surgery is last door on the right, they're in there." she said resigned to the fact her patients were only getting out of here alive if she cooperated. Stinson quickly marched to the door and threw it open. The sound of the door flying open and Stinson standing there was enough to stop the beating heart of Jordan as he looked up. He knew his life was about to end here, and all he had done to save David would be for nothing. The only consolation was the David wouldn't see the final moments as he was still passed out on the operating table, the tube of blood still feeding his veins passed from Jordan to David between them. Still standing at the door, Stinson raised his handgun to eye level, pointed it at Jordan first and slowly pulled the trigger...but before the gun could fire, his eyes rolled back in his head and his knees buckled beneath him. Arm dropping down and his gun falling to the floor, Stinson dropped quietly into a heap on the floor. Behind him stood a petrified Stephanie Zoshi, holding a horse syringe in her hands. "Equine tranquilizer," she said with a shocked and hushed tone. "He's gonna be out for an hour, but his friends probably won't be that patient. We gotta get you outta here!". It wasn't a brilliant escape plan, but it was all they had. Quickly bandaging the wounds from both the gunshot and the blood transfusion, David's limp body was put inside a large dog carrying crate and covered with a sheepskin. Jordan found a change of clothes belonging to another doctor from the clinic and disguised himself as a vet, with the same white lab coat worn by Dr Stephanie. Had the soldiers not had complete and utter unquestioning faith in the ability of their Captain, the plan would have never worked. It simply never occurred to any of them, their fugitive could simply walk out the back of the building they had locked down, lift a large dog carrying case into the back of a vet ambulance, get into the vehicle and drive away. It looked exactly like anything you would see any day behind a Vet Clinic, but today was no ordinary day. ==================================================== The first thing I was aware of was the splitting pain in my head. It felt like my head was ripping itself in two. The next, was the dryness of my mouth. LIke I hadn't drunk anything in days, my mouth felt like I had fallen asleep face down on a sand dune, the skin of my tongue so dry it scraped along my parched lips. Lying in a bed on my back I could survey the room. Cheap old fashioned TV, dusty light fixtures yellowed with age. Peeling wallpaper and torn curtains told the story - we were in some roach motel somewhere along a secondary highway. Busy enough to have some motels - but not busy enough to keep the rooms clean. It was as far from the pristine living conditions of Dr Stone's beautiful mansion as you could get. Then I heard it. The quick shallow breathing of a man busy with one task. Looking over, I could see Jordan laid out on top of his covers. Naked body fully exposed. He was surprisingly muscular and his body had several different tattoos. Butterflies across his belly and chest and the bars through his pierced nipples glinted in the low light of the room. His left arm covered in a large tattoo of what looked like a rainforest, was now stroking his ripples across his tightly muscled abdomen. Fingers grazing his abs and gently playing with his own bellybutton. His right hand was firmly wrapped around his hard cock, slowly stretching and milking it making it harder with each stroke. When his cock was firmly laid out along his light hint of a treasure trail, the right hand took a moment to massage his balls. Stretching out his nutsack gently, tugging down against the erect phallus pushing upwards. His moist lips let out a quiet moan as his hand returned to its earlier position stroking up and down rhythmically along the smooth shaft of the heavy dick. The head of the penis was a darker color and I could see a thin spider-web form as a dew drop of pre-cum leaked out and fall towards his belly. The pace picked up quickly as he moved his left hand up toward his own nipples and gently pinched them between his thumb and forefinger, each in turn. He let out small gasps of sexual pain as he pinched and the veins in his neck pulsed as he arched his back and lifted his ass off the bed. He continued the punishing strokes on his man-meat as he shot a fountain of cum into the air, that quickly came back down and pooled on his belly and filled his umbilicus hole. His deep, passionate breathing now unrestrained, deeper and slowing clearly showed the beautiful afterglow he must be feeling now. I watched his alluring body come down from the heights of his climax, as his breathing normalized and his cock began to grow limp again, it lay down pointing sideways toward me. At that point I noticed a glass of water beside me. Quietly I tried to reach over to quench my terrible thirst. That was when I realized the terrible pain in my arms- I could barely lift them! My pain had caused Jordan to realize I was awake, and without any shame at all, he jumped up and came beside my bed to offer me the glass. "Here, " he said, "let me get that for you." He held it as I drank. "You lost a lot of blood and you'll need to eat and drink to get your energy back and heal." His naked, cum soaked body now just inches from me, I drank deeply from his glass. Looking up at his smiling face helping me drink, I couldn't help but be amazed at the kindness and beauty of this man. I could see his eyes looking down my body, and then his smile grew a little wider. "See something you like?" He asked with a wicked grin. `Oh no', I thought.. I probably shouldn't be wasting what little blood I had in my body on a huge inflated dick! That blood was needed in my head. That was the last thing I remember before passing out.