Saving Cheryl's Butt

Chapter 1

Corporal Guy Richards was discharged from the Australian Army and boarded a bus for Sydney, bewildered.

At last it was sinking in why his intake of recruits had been urged periodically to study for higher qualifications during their term of service, with perhaps Army study subsidies and concessions available.

Well it was like this, Guy thought. The ultimate discharge day appeared far off and that led to an attitude of not to worry, and anyway he'd re-signed, pushing E-day (Exit Day) out even farther. They had been warned not to be lackadaisical, whatever that meant, about putting off their responsibility to prepare themselves for civvy life, whereas he believed that with Army training, he was prepared for anything.

But the first thing that hit him was when dressed in civvy clothes and having handed in his Army clothing, he realized he would really miss being dressed in uniform.

"Fuck," he murmured.

The woman sitting beside him said severely, "I beg your pardon?"

"Sorry ma'am,"

She sniffed loudly and that was that.

That emphasised to him that he was not prepared to fit back into civilian life.

Back home, his dad Robert asked what would Guy do now and his son answered confidentially, "Something good."

Satisfied, his dad went back to watching the news on TV.

But Robyn, his mother, typical of women, bored in and asked, "What post-school qualifications have you gained to achieve 'something good' in terms of employment?"

Fuck, she had him on a bayonet. Guy waited for the phone to ring or the TV set to blow up.

But nothing of any use happened.

"Well?"

"I have my Army service behind me, and I doubled that by signing up again."

"That counts for nothing, or at best, little in civilian life. You should join the Salvation Army. You have a good singing voice and muscle and they probably run a secret protection squad for those cute Sally girls but for goodness sake, don't get any of them pregnant."

"Why the Sally Army?"

"Because they'll feed you and provide you with somewhere to sleep."

"Oh."

"Don't listen to her, mate. Get off your arse in the morning and head down to the Job Centre. No one is unemployable to them. They'll find you something."

Yawning, Guy set forth next morning to the nearest local job centre in Sydney but took a wrong turn and missed it. He continued walking to the city centre, four miles away and eventually spotted an Employment Recruitment Centre and went in and was asked to register.

It was a classy place and registration was free and so he filled out the form and handed it in.

The receptionist turned snotty and said, "You have practically filled in nothing. You should go to an unemployment relief centre. They may consider being in the Army until recently qualifies as a vocation."

"It is."

"It isn't."

A babe in a dress magnificently tight around her tits and hips came out of a side office and said, "Keep your voice down, Gwendolyn."

Eyeing the tits of the intruder, Guy thought Christmas, Gwendo-whatever, what a stupid name and little wonder she'd bee snotty to him.

"This man is ex-Army with no other qualifications. I suggested politely he should go to an unemployment relief centre."

"Is that correct, Sir."

"Not at all. I have advanced qualifications."

"Oh, what are they?"

Guy thought it would be pointless saying supervising a detail mopping out the latrines. Come on Dummy, think. Oh yeah, sniper behind that wall at 11 o'clock, range 300 yards...

"Advanced protection skills, Ma'am."

"It's Miss. She looked at him thoughtfully until saying, "Please wait a couple of minutes while I make a call. I may have something for you."

Guy was fairly certain it wouldn't be pussy, but perhaps she had a client wanting protection from dirty old men or from a sewing circle, members of whom were alarmed that the member they'd who'd thrown out for always being drunk might retaliate viciously.

Miss Luscious returned and said, "I have clients interested in speaking to you. Be here at 9.30 in the morning and I'll take you to them. Please wear nicer clothes."

"Yes miss," Guy said, touching his forehead with a forefinger respectfully.

She barked, "Richards, if I thought you were taking the piss..."

"No Miss," he said hastily. "My gran taught me it was a respectful way to acknowledge a lady. I wasn't brought up to enrage my peers. I'll be here 9.29, Army time."

"Very well, and bring your discharge papers and anything else on paper that commends you on your behaviour and discipline. Here's my business card."

Guy walked away reading the business card. She was Miss Carla Schofield, of Surry Hills. That was of some interest to him as she had a cute first name and a posh surname. Wow, she had Master's degrees in both Human Resource Management and Psychology. That meant she could guess with accuracy what was going on in his head and would know he admired her face and tits.

He stopped for a couple of beers on the way home, only two because he was cutting back on his beer-guzzling ways that had provided relief from boredom in the Army or quietened the fear in the guy's bellies on the eve of commencing an operation in a war zone.

He entered the living room and flopped on the sofa and said "Hi mom."

Robyn was watching a TV soap before going into the kitchen to prepare dinner.

She cooed, "Aw, this is just like the old days with you coming home not long before you left school to become an Army cadet where you finished off your senior schooling."

"Yeah, lots of water has flowed under the bridge since then, eh mum?"

"Indeed, you appear jovial."

"I need a new suit and fancy shirt for a job interview in the morning."

Robyn told him to wear the clothes he wore today. The interviewer wouldn't notice what he was wearing, being only interested in whether his finger nails were clean, that his hair was brushed and that he didn't chew gum or belch.

"No details yet, but it would appear it's big time and I might be protecting some VIP."

Marion looked doubtful.

Guy handed her Carla's card and sat back, waiting for the explosive reaction.

"Omigod, the card is printed in gold and the agency is Benson & McKenzie Associates who provide recruitment services to the rich and famous. Omigod, you have been dealing with not just anyone but a Senior Consultant who is a Schofield."

"Mum, grab your handbag and let's go. I need new gear, not something used from an Opportunity Shop. You and dad pay for the gear for me keeping my promise to come home safely rather than be killed or having my testicles ripped out by an exploding grenade."

"Oh yes, darling, you came home to mummy all in one piece, though disfigured somewhat by battle scars or fighting in drinking holes or houses of ill-repute."

"They don't used that name in the Middle East, mum. They come straight out with it and call them brothels."

"But mummy's boy all grown up wouldn't go into those filthy places, would he?"

"I'd only go into classy brothels mum, simply to escape the flies and mosquitoes."

"Oh, that was sensible thinking, Guy."

Robert came home and his son handed him a tinny (chilled beer) and they clicked cans and said "Cheers".

"What's this then," Robert said, eying the two flash dark suits on the dining table, four business shirts, two pairs of dark slip-ons, and a casual and leather jackets."

"That's your son's business gear for performing his grand job."

"Oh, great so you got a job better than brooming street gutters for the Council?"

"Yes dear, a very important job," said his wife. "You and I are paying for this lot to reward our son coming home from war fit possessing his testicles."

Robert coughed and said he didn't get into that sort of conversation with females.

He looked at the clothes and said ominously, "How much?"

Guy had rehearsed his mother had to deal with this.

As Robert put his can to his lips suck in some beer, he raised his hand and lowered it stretched out, quickly.

Robyn parroted, "Four thousand, five hundred and fifty-seven dollars. They're mid-range in prices for businessmen's clothing."

Robert sprayed beer everywhere and was choking on his anger.

Clearing his throat, Robert roared, his face turned purple, "What the fuck?"

"Calm down dad, I have a deal for you," his son said with authority.

"I'm listening," Robert said, through clenched teeth.

"Mum thought I needed a home-coming present from you two in returning home in one piece from war."

"Yes, I hear you but where's the deal."

"Dad, I'm aware that mum dipped into your two's saving to kit me up in style and those savings are meant for your two to holiday in Bali next winter. Here's the deal. With this clothing and my Army endowed expertise, I'm confident I'll get this well-paying job because no one offers to perform personal protection on a shoe-string payment as it involves working long hours, being at personal risk and, err, missing out on one's sex life. That will mean I will not be living at home, that would have increased the family's cost of living, particularly if I remained out of work."

"Dad, I promise to repay half of that outlay on essential clothing for me, namely l will pay you a total of $2278.50 in 30-days from today, if not sooner, guaranteed."

"Guaranteed?"

"Yes, if I don't have a job, I'll sell my sexual services to the ladies of our local bowling club."

"Omigod, you would make a fortune doing that as most of them are divorcees or spinsters," Robyn said, but was ignored.

"Guaranteed?" said Robert.

"Absolutely,"

"Deal," said his father, smiling again. and his son went to the fridge for two more tinnies.

Robyn said, "Thankfully, that stand-off is settled. Guy, when you were in Afghanistan, just how close to danger were your testicles? I'm thinking of your prospective production of babies, my grandchildren."

"Fairly close. That scar on my left leg near my groin was caused by an exploding mortar bomb and the knife wound on the thigh opposite was received in a brothel in Iraq."

"Liar, you told me you didn't go into brothels to use women."

"Mum. I said I went into classy brothels to escape from flies and mosquitoes. In that brothel, a jealous husband attacked a guy seated next to me who was mauling the knife-thrower's wife. The knife the enraged husband threw deflected off the soldier's watch and dug into my leg."

"Oh, I apologise for disbelieving you," Robyn said, and her husband rolled his eyes in disbelief at her naivety.

Chapter 2

Carla came from her office following the call that Mr Richards had arrive punctually, right on 9.29.

"Where is he," she asked, glancing at the five males and two females sitting around the waiting room."

"Right in front of you, in the process of standing," said Gwendolyn, smirking.

Carla's bosom had pushed the open sides of her bright pale jacket wide and Guy said, without thinking, "Nice boobs."

"Thanks. I'm struggling to get over shock at the dramatic change in your appearance in a little less than 24-hours. You've gone from tramp to gentleman in an unbelievable transformation."

"I did my best because you are bestowing on me preferential treatment"

"Oh, how sweet," she said, blowing Guy a fleeting kiss.

They entered Carla's small but posh car and headed to Double Bay.

The stopped outside an impressive dwelling with trees and gardens and not much lawn surrounding it.

Guy said, "This home looks rather posh. Will I be expected to remove my shoes?"

He then began thinking that the two-level dwelling was large enough to comfortably bunk down his former platoon plus a couple of others.

Carla Schofield, the recruitment agency branch manager, sighed and said, "Just wipe your shoes on the mat at the front door on the veranda that is provided for that purpose."

She regarded her new client as being rather naïve but she'd been fascinated to learn from Guy during the journey from the office, that the vehicle she'd been driving since new for two months had three cylinders plus turbo power instead of four cylinders and yet developed 140 brake horsepower.

She'd asked was that good?

"Yes, it obviously has very adequate acceleration for yours every-day use, Miss."

"Call me Carla. What car do you own?"

"I've never owned a car, only motor-cycles and sold my last one when I was last home on a furlough. I just read a lot about cars, especially new releases. I'll buy a used car soon, possible a Mazda 8."

"At least you have a plan. My fiancée tends not to think beyond his next meal," Carla said, pushing the doorbell.

"Dump him."

"Omigod, you can't say that to me."

"I just did, and anyway you should be married by now at your age, which I guess in the early thirties."

A smartly dressed woman nearing fifty opened the door and said, "Ah, good morning Carla and this is the chap, I presume?"

"Yes, Mrs Shirley. This is Guy Richards."

"Come in both of you, please."

They sat at the dining room table and Mrs Shirley asked, "Do you have character references, Mr Richards?"

"Yes, ma'am. Please call my Guy," he said, digging into his crumpled plastic shopping bag and handing across his Army Discharge papers and three old character references plus a medal.

"Ah, a medal. What was that for?"

"I collected several awards, mostly service awards, but this one commended me for bravery in going out amid crossfire between our Australian force and rebels on Afghanistan to collect a solider from my unit who was injured by the ambush that caught us before we retreated to cover to return effective fire. I crawled out the 150 yards but had to return upright, carrying Private Winter on my back and we made it safely, thanks to the barrage of gunfire from our guys hoping to provide me with cover."

"I agree, that was incredibly brave of you, Guy."

Mrs Shirley said, "Guy, my husband Carl is in Canberra at present. We wish to provide protection for our daughter, a university lecturer, during the university break beginning on Monday for the summer, or until this dreadful situation is resolved. I must point out that Cheryl, who is twenty-nine, is totally opposed to this plan, but I have to insist on putting it into effect. I cannot allow her independent streak and belief she can take care of herself to cloud her thinking."

Guy said, "Mrs Shirley, I apologize for interrupting but I would like to first hear what the problem is directly from your daughter. I'll then return and give you my opinion if this is indeed a job for me with my specialisations. Is your daughter here somewhere?"

"Yes, at the back of the house beside the pool. Go to her and Carla and I will have coffee."

"Hi Cheryl, my name is Guy and I'd like to chat."

"Chat as much as you like, Guy. However, my stance is the same. I don't want you or anyone else inhibiting my activity during this term break."

"Cheryl, your mother has wisely figured that you'll be at your most vulnerable to assault during the next two weeks from Monday, and if you think about it clearly, you may also agree with that."

"I propose lurking in the background as you move about and you may not notice me. This method of surveillance requires using you as bait to bring the person or persons intend on harming you out into the open. I'd want you to be fully exposed as bait for as long as it takes.'

"Carla Scofield of the agency that has recommended to your parents me as the person they should hire to work to protect your safety. Carol gave me a briefing paper on your situation to read as we drove over here. The police have one student in custody waiting for a High Court hearing on the charge of sexually assaulting one of your fellow junior lecturers and another student is awaiting the completion of investigations of alleged attempted sexual assault of another lecturer."

"The police believe only two students are involved, in this threat to you, but my suspicion is two or more others could be involved. There were seventeen males at that party, plus fifteen females where the threat was made to assault five female junior lecturers following the call by a junior female lecturer to the police to break up the noisy party."

"It seems to me that for any male to make such a public threat of serious assault would require more than just one associate behind him to be so darling, even if he were fired up with booze."

Cheryl, looking great in a bikini, scoffed dryly, asking did Guy really believe he could he could work things out better than the entire Criminal Investigation Department of the New South Wales Police when they would have various sections of the department on call as required."

"Cheryl, I've had professional Intelligence training to help hunt down or out-manoeuvre the enemy. Please bear that in mind."

She scoffed, "So you say."

"Cheryl, I've seen the victims of several forms of serious assault in the cities and especially the villages in territory occupied by the Enemy until we have routed them flee or we've over-run them. Also, there have been instances of females being seriously assaulted in our own camps by our own military personnel going rogue. Serious assault on as female is not for the faint-hearted. Listen, and I'll related some of the brutality involved that has left women dying or scarred for life, in some instances, women of child-bearing age that have been so heavily brutalized within their bodies they are unlikely ever to be able to birth children, if that was their longer term intention."

Cheryl said abruptly, "I'm going to vomit. Tell my mother I want you hired to protect me."

She then fled to the pool dressing room.

Guy returned to the dining table and Mrs Shirley felt the tea-pot under its cover, nodded, and poured him a cuppa.

Guy said, "I told your daughter about the grim side of serious assault that I heard about during my military service. As intended, my stark accounts horrified her and she raced to the toilet, hand over her mouth, but not before saying, "Tell mother I want her to hire you to protect me."

"Omigod, that was a cruel thing to do."

"Mrs Shirley, can you think of another way we could have convinced Sheryl to accept some level of protection against being molested?"

"I'm sure... No, probably not."

"Right, this is basically what I have planned but it will be subject to change as more information comes to light or the situation changes. There were five junior lecturers at the centre of the warning to expect to be seriously assaulted. Two have suffered, three including to go providing the threat remains real. Perhaps one or more involved in that threat by an unknown core have left the city for the two-week break. I have proposed to Cheryl she carry on normally to be used as bait under my watchful eye."

"Omigod no, I can't allow that," cried Mrs Shirley.

"Can't allow what, mother?" Cheryl said, entering the room, looking very pale.

"To be used as bait for entrapment of those fiends."

"Too late mother, I have agreed to that proposal. You pleaded to me to accept protection and now that it's on offer, the method proposed by this expert I find is acceptable, and yet you are not in favour. You can't have it both ways, mother. Just sign a contract; drawn up right now and agree to Guy's terms. I'm off to lie down as I feel unwell."

"No, Cheryl, bed in such circumstances is for the weak. Just do as many slow laps of the pool that you can completely comfortably."

"Very well, Guy," she said and headed for the pool, glancing at her gaping mother and the agency woman.

"Omigod, you have seized control of my daughter already."

"I have done nothing of the sort, Mrs Shirley. I have simply appealed to her good sense and convinced her that I can get the job done with her cooperation until I take them out or the authorities make arrests or are convinced that the threat has expired."