Opening Portals

Gus left Chicago within the hour.

* * *

Drifting between towns Gus had a free bed and meals clearing the overgrown half-acre property of an elderly couple, erecting a new fence around a cemetery (sleeping in the church but eating with the pastor and his wife), assisting to sell pickles at a farmers' market and then spent a month assisting a debt collector in his work fraught with danger. At times Gus wondered why he'd left the marines until remembering it was his decision. He decided to move on to the next city and attempting to enter found his way blocked by a traffic diversion.

"What's up?" he asked to the blonde red-eyed female cop who came over and ordered him to turn on to the bypass like everyone else.

"It's a hostage situation at a school. Two of our female offices went in to negotiate and now they are hogtied. The guys who we were chasing after they robbed a bank used the school video equipment to film their hostages and then emailed the clip that's now showing on one of those Internet tube sites It's humiliating the police, the mayor is furious and my darling is the teacher in there with the seventeen 7-year-olds."

"Your lesbian lover?"

"No you fool, my younger sister."

"Let my through. I'm an ex-marine who came out of covert action in Iraq alive."

"That's obvious," sniffed the cop, indicating she was thinking incisively.

"Look officer. Let me through and I'll take a look. My training is much more advanced than even what your Swat team guys receive."

"All right, but no weapons do you hear? We want everyone out alive."

"And the felons?"

"You can fuck and kill the felons for all I care."

Gus grimaced. "Steady on babe, the felons are guys."

The sobbing cop undid the tape and waved Gus through.

Gus stopped just short of a bunch of cops having a pow-wow in the middle of the road. Swat guys with rifles surrounded him. A police lieutenant emerged from the group huddle and faced Gus. "How the hell did you get in here?"

"The cop re-directing traffic up there a bit let me through. I said she had the choice of fucking me or letting me through."

"Baker and Moss, arrest this guy for obstructing the police in execution of their duty and putting a police civic emergency at risk."

"She said two female cops are hostages as well as her sister and her sister's second graders. I promised to get them out. Imagine the bad press if another two cops go down and half the kids die in crossfire if the Swat teams let rip."

"Wait, Baker. Who the hell are you?"

"Former Marine First Sergeant Argus Mitchell, ex Special Forces Lebanon, Palestine, Iran and Iraq. My ID is in my shirt pocket."

"Get it for me Moss."

The lieutenant examined the ID. "Okay, you appear to be who you say your are. What now?"

"I want to go in and take a look."

"Okay, you're passing through so if you get blown away that's no loss to this city. You are ex-marine. We can't arm a civilian."

"That's fine, I don't want to shoot up kids anyway. Just give me two cans of pepper spray and a mirror."

"We don't have a mirror with us."

Gus sighed. "Moss, wrench a mirror off a vehicle. No, not that one that's my car. Get one off that pick-up and keep the extension attached."

The cop trotted back with the mirror. "Well done Moss," Gus said. "You're promoted to temporary sergeant. Okay if I go in lieutenant?"

"Yes, try not to gut a bullet up your ass." The lieutenant called to another minion, "Elliot, advise all units we have a guy in jeans and a black shirt going in."

Gus eyed a detective in a flak jacket. "I want his white shirt."

"Give Rambo your shirt, Jacobson. We'll replace it."

Gus walked down towards the entrance of the school block where the felons were holed up, carrying a stick from which the white shirt flapped. He recalled the 1990 film 'Kindergarten Cop' and wondered if he would be as successful as Arnold Schwarzenegger had been. Of course this wasn't Hollywood. The lieutenant bellowed through his bullhorn to the hostage-takers, "We have an expert civilian negotiator coming in." Fucking amateurs, Gus thought. The lieutenant should have warned this was the bank robbers' last chance. An expert civilian negotiator was coming in. If that failed everyone in that classroom would be blown into pieces. Everyone." Two guys pointing sawn-off shotguns met Gus at the doorway. Before they could speak he said he was carrying two cans of water but had two .32s strapped under his armpits. The guys looked at one another nervously and then, as they looked in the direction of his armpits, he pepper sprayed them and dropping the cans clubbed both of them over their Adam's apple. Pulling police handcuffs hanging from his belt over his backside he cuffed them. Gus pulled a knife off one of the guys and nodded approvingly -- well balanced for throwing. Using the mirror Gus could see a guy across the adjoining empty classroom with a short-barrel rifle guarding the door into the next room. The bandit had earphones on, plugged into an I-Pod on his belt and movement of his head suggested the beat was Hip-Hop. Holding the two shotguns by the barrels Gus walked toward him and called loudly, "The boss wants these."

The guy, obviously an amateur, opened his eyes and didn't even looked startled when he lifted his earphones and asked, "What?"

"The boss wants these."

"What boss?"

That's when Gus swung both unloaded shotguns and dropped the stupid guy, stone cold. He cuffed him.

Using the mirror again Gus saw a guy just inside the door with a long-barrel shotgun and was very happy about that. It would take the guy some time to lift it to shoot him. Another guy was ten feet away, just a little forward of presumably the teacher with a great looking bust. Gus knew he'd have to go for him first because the guy only have to take half a step back to shelter behind the adult hostage and he could pull the revolver in his belt and fire at Gus at will.

Steadying his breathing, Gus calmly pulled the glass door back, handed a shotgun to the guy with his back to him saying, "This is for you." The guy automatically took it. Gus took aim and threw the knife. It flew past the teacher and the lead-weighted handle struck the other felon between the eyes. He fell against the teacher who screamed, disturbing the kids who yelled. Gus turned and knocked cold the guy holding two shotguns who'd been unable to decide what one to use. Gus then kicked open the outside doors facing the police and sharp shooters and yelled, "The kids are coming out."

"Come on kids, no running. Walk across the playground and up the slope to those friendly policemen who want to save you. Walk quietly in one line. You darling, you walk in front. Start singing 'Baa-baa Black Sheep'."

"That's for little kids. We know better songs than that."

"Do as you're told dear or I'll paddle your butt. Go on. Um -- please."

"Okay. Everyone follow me. 'Baa-Baa Black Sheep...'."

Television news cameras recorded the exodus for the networks.

Meanwhile the schoolteacher slapped Gus when he kissed her and patted a tit.

"You fool," she screamed. "You almost killed me with that knife."

"If I had wanted to kill you, you wouldn't have seen the knife," Gus said, thinking what an ungrateful bitch. Perhaps it was shock.

There was only one set of handcuffs left, so Gus cuffed the teacher's hands behind her back so she couldn't slap him again and pushed her out the door after the kids, helping her on the way with a shoe pushed against her butt. He cut the two women cops free. They kissed him and promised him unrestrained sex. That gave Gus some erotic thoughts. He slapped both robbers awake and handed each policewoman a shotgun. "March them uphill and be on TV news as heroines."

Gus then disappeared.

The Swat team rushed the building and found the other two robbers and in the robbers' vehicle from which they recovered all the bank loot. But there was no sign of Grade 2 Hero.

Grade 2 Hero had circled around the school, watched by Swat team riflemen wondering what he was doing now, and returned to his vehicle still parked in the middle of the street. Gus drove off quietly, wanting to get out of town. He picked up the newspaper next morning aghast. There was a front-page picture of himself plus a picture of the sobbing teacher surrounded by her students. The heading screamed, 'Where's Grade 2 Hero ex-Marine First Sergeant Argus Mitchell?'

The story made him sound like a one-man-army who'd done what fifty police officers and two Swat teams had been unable to achieve -- the release without injury of seventeen second graders, their teacher and two female police hostages, as well as the five bank robbers who after treatment from the ex-Marine hero, were a little worse for wear but alive.

The reporter wrote, "Schoolteacher Sue White said she wished to reward the hero 'The best way I know how'. Amazingly the two freed policewomen, whom the hero had attempted to turn into heroines, used exactly the same words in separate interviews; they wanted to reward the hero the best way they knew how. All three women refused to elaborate."

The police lieutenant, who obviously had remembered Gus' name while someone had covertly photographed Gus, said the hero had gone in unarmed. "No wonder that guy walked out of Iraq in one piece. We'd like to pin a police medal on him and find out how he did it. Our arrested suspects seemed to be rather vague about what happened. There are also perhaps seventeen lots of parents and grandparents who'd like to shake super hero's hand."

Gus thought that squared up things after the incident earlier in the month when he'd bashed up two stroppy cops, but he rather thought those police guys and police HQ might not see it that way. He paid for his overnight accommodation and slipped out of Illinois, crossing state lines and ending up in Colorado.

Chapter 2

Gus had spent three weeks on leave in Denver a couple of years back, and had met a sweet gal called Debra, married to an airline pilot. Who knows, perhaps they'd had enough and had parted. He decided to visit Debra mid-afternoon, thinking a working husband was unlikely to be home then.

Gus rang the bell. A very pregnant Debra came to the door and was delighted to see him. "You're still married," he sighed.

She patted her stomach. "I hope so, but my best friend Betsy isn't and I tell her she should drop her current guy for you. Come in. She's on a chair beside the pool sunbathing."

Instantly, from what he saw, Gus didn't have to guess Betsy had great boobs -- they were bared and spread across her chest.

Gus stayed an hour and when it became apparent Betsy was not taking to him at all, he finished his drink and said goodbye.

"Where are you staying?" Debra asked.

Gus told her and Debra said she'd get someone to give him a call.

Two nights later a slightly breathless female said, "My sister Debbie thinks we should meet. Are you interested?"

Gus yawned and said, "I don't know why Debra is doing this?"

"She said she owes you one for giving her a whole heap of them."

"Of what?"

"It doesn't matter, you don't seem to be up to speed. How old are you?"

"Thirty-four."

"Oh, that explains it."

"Okay, how old are you?"

"Had my twenty-first birthday five weeks back."

"Oh."

The caller laughed. "This is not going to work is it granddad?"

"Cheeky bitch."

"Oh, the tail wags."

"Listen, do you want to fuck me or not?"

There was a pause; Gus could hear her breathing so knew she was thinking, probably working out how to kick his butt.

"I've never had anyone talk to me like that before."

"Well, my apologies. I'm used to talking to adult women."

"I thought it was the guy who did the fucking?"

"Depends who wants it most. Good lovers work in unison."

"I've never gotten to feeling of real urge. Being in bed with a guy has been rather ho-hum for me."

"Look, you seem rather too tentative for me. It was very lovely of you to call but..."

"My name is Farrah."

"Lovely name."

"Thank you. Am I permitted to change my mind?"

"Women expect men to say yes, so yes but just this once."

"You sound interesting. I'd like to meet you."

"Very well. At a bar?"

"No, my parent's home. They will be nervous about me meeting a much older man. My mom is touchy about such things. It's been a nightmare for my brother and my next oldest sister. However Debra was such a rebel she just ignored mom and dad and got away with whatever she wanted. I guess you knew Debra intimately?"

"Very intimately. It's great she's about to have a baby. She'll be a great mother."

"Mother doesn't think so."

"Tell you mother there's more than one way to skin a cat."

"I'm glad you care for Debra."

Farrah gave Gus the address and said to be there tomorrow at 7:30. "Mom and dad always have pre-dinner drinks them. That could lessen the shock."

* * *

Anticipating he'd be expected to make a good impression, Gus had his hair tidied next day and purchased a pair of very dark blue Italian kid leather shoes. He wore them with his gray suit, collarless white suit and the gold medallion he'd purchased to convince Farrah he was with it.

Daddy and mommy are in the money, Gus thought, as he skipped up the steps to the impressive white house. Debra had never talked about her family so he hadn't a clue what daddy did. Perhaps he printed money?

Electricity seemed to fire between them as Farrah opened the door. Gus knew he'd knocked her for a six because she stared, slowly put a hand to her throat and swallowed. He could be wrong, badly off center, but Gus thought that added up to a favorable impression.

Farrah was in a simple white dress, scooped neck that ended mid-thigh and topped by a gold pendant that seemed similar to the one Gus was wearing. Farrah was almost as tall as he was, a bit light in the boobs department but she had raven hair and a very beautiful face. Her waist and hips gave her a very slim look and her legs where looooong. She wore dark blue Italian kid leather shoes and when Gus looked up he realized she was staring at his shoes.

"Do we kiss?" he asked confidently.

"Yes, but I must advise it's not the done thing in this neighborhood to fuck on the doorstep."

Gus was only just quick enough to catch the wicked smile before she concealed it.

"That's good, I've stopped doing it on the doorstep. Too many women complain of butt rash from the stiff-haired doormat."

Farrah gurgled as she suppressed her laughter. She looked for signs that he was joking but met only a straight-faced stare.

They kissed gently, both with eyes remaining open. Then Gus dropped his hands over her ass and caught the lower secondary skin folds -- there wasn't much there -- and squeezed.

Farrah jumped a couple of inches and said, "Thank God, I had the thought I was plunging into disaster with a guy without hot blood pulsating through his veins.

"I'll give you something else hot and pulsating to hold later this evening."

"Down boy," Farrah said, taking his arm. "Tell me where Gus comes from as mother will ask me. Is it from Augustus or Gustave or Gustav?"

None of them. It's shortened from my given name, Argus. Do you think you're going to like me?"

"I think so."

They walked into a room that wasn't the lounge, which was just beyond it, nor a den nor a TV lounge. Gus thought it must be the pre-dinner drinks room.

"Mother, this is a new acquaintance of mine, Gus Mitchell. Gus please greet my mother Miriam Ashton-Walsh."

Gus watched what he thought was rejection rise up to cover the woman's face. "Good evening Mrs Ashton-Walsh or should I call you Miriam?"

"Well I...Miriam I suppose."

"Hello young man. I'm Mr Ashton-Walsh but Clive will be just fine. A Martini?"

"Yes thank you, Vodka based."

"Ah, a man after my own taste. These women favor gin. Tell me Gus, how did you meet my daughter?"

"Our relationship is very tenuous. I saw her in a bar and asked around and a friend of Farrah's gave me the phone number."

"At bar?" asked the mother, almost choking.

"Yes, but Farrah wasn't one of the young women dancing on the table tops. I called Farrah last night, became my most persuasive, and here I am."

"Table top dancing?"

"Yes Miriam. It was a bit of a dive but the group Farrah was with stayed for only one drink. They were all women and appeared shocked to find themselves amid lesbians, divorcees and hookers."

"Oh God."

"I'm new in the city and my landlady recommended that bar. I only had one drink and was out of there myself. I assure you Mr and Mrs Ashton-Walsh, should Farrah and I connect I can assure you we will go very much more up-market."

"Connect" Miriam quavered.

"It sounds like sex, doesn't it Miriam, and now that you've raised the point that it's bound to happen because your daughter is a stunning young woman in need of the very best. No, by connect, I was just meaning if we find ourselves on the same wavelength we'll see where that takes us."

"Y-you mean bed d-don't you?"

"Very perceptive Miriam or was that also the way in your day you were a socialite gadfly?"

"I-I..."

"Another drink Gus?"

"Just iced water Clive. We'll have a glass of wine with dinner, which will be enough for me because I'll be driving."

The pause allowed Gus to look at Farrah, who was staring at him wide-eyed.

"Both your parents appear very modern Farrah, as you say, up with it."

"Y-yes."

Clive arrived with Gus' water and a plate of beautifully arranged nibbles.

Gus said no thanks to the food; he wanted to remain in fighting trim."

"I must say you have the figure of a gladiator Gus," Clive said. "What is your profession?"

"At present I'm unemployed."

Miriam spluttered into her napkin.

"Well what were you doing before that?"

"Oh blowing up bridges, recovering hostages, assassinating dangerous assholes, going in at night looking for missile sites, that sort of thing."

"You mean working for the Mafia," Miriam whispered.

"No dear. That sounds like Special Forces on foreign service," Clive said. "Ohmigod...just a moment."

Clive left the room. Miriam said what Gus had done sounded dangerous work

Farrah looked at Gus and said anxiously, "You didn't tell me you were without work."

"I will find something soon but there's no pressure. When I was paid off from the marines I also received three extra payments including one from Washington for performing extraordinary acts. But forget the bullshit about heroism. The payments swelled my bank account to almost $1.6 million."

Clive entered the room triumphantly. "Found it, almost at the bottom of the newspaper pile. This is you isn't it, First Sergeant Argus Mitchell?"

As Clive was pointing to the photographs of the successful ending to the school hostage drama involving bank robbers, he nodded and quietly said yes.

"Ohmigod, I'm dating a hero," Farrah said while her mother looked as if she'd been run over by a truck.

As Farrah and Gus were leaving, he kissed Farrah's mother and said, "Do you find me acceptable Miriam."

"The jury's out; I'll have to think about it."

"Well, just remember it doesn't matter to me what you think Miriam and I'm sure it will be Farrah who decides when and whom she dates. Good night, and thank you for the lovely hospitality. Good night Clive. Nice meeting you. I rated you as the perfect host until you walked in with that newspaper. You and I have given your wife a rough evening."

Gus received an earful outside the house. "I can't believe you dreamed up that story and lied to mom how we met."

"So you would have preferred me saying you called me because your sister told you I was a good fuck. You mom would have then wanted to know how did Debra know that, or the very least how did I know Debra. Where would that have left you?"