Sunland

By mid-afternoon, I realized that, even though I suspected that a dangerous nutcase was close by, I was more relaxed than I managed to get on my, infrequent, clothed vacations. Andy put my thought into words. "This is way too nice," she said. "We need to stay on our toes." An hour or so before dinner, we went back to the cabin to check our weapons just to remind ourselves why we were there.

Saturday night dinner was a shrimp boil. Much beer and wine was consumed and the atmosphere was festive. Barb Stamper explained to us. "We know that madman is out there, but if we change what we do, he's won." Andy and I, of course, stayed completely sober.

The club members were having a dance that night in a sheltered picnic area. That was a potentially attractive target, so Andy and I went on full alert. It was dark enough that I thought I could risk bringing my gym bag with my weapon in it. The problem was that the music meant we had no chance of hearing anything that might alert us to his approach. We really sweated until the dance broke up around 11:00 p.m. without incident.

Everyone was pairing off and heading to the cabins, so Andy and I did the same. We quickly worked out a "watch schedule" by which one of us would stay alert for two hours while the other tried to catnap. I took the first watch. By 1:00 a.m., when Andy relieved me, the resort was completely quiet.

The clock on the nightstand said 2:15 when I glanced at it as Andy whispered in my ear, "Harry, someone's out there."

I probably wouldn't have noticed if Andy hadn't said something, but I knew that she was right. Whether it was sound or just vibration, I didn't know, but I knew for certain that someone was moving around outside.

We quickly and silently put on our belts. Andy's had her gun, extra clips, a taser, and a small radio with a wire running to a headset which she put on. I had one too. They enabled us to communicate at only a whisper for a range of, if we were lucky, a quarter mile. My gun was too large to holster. My belt had extra rounds, handcuffs, and a more powerful portable radio that would reach the Sheriff's dispatch. We each pulled a set of night goggles over our heads. I grabbed my revolver. Apart from that gear, we were both naked. We had forgotten to get dressed.

The goggles were older and rendered everything in shades of green. Still, the image was pretty clear. I was shocked at how erotic Andy looked, moving stealthily, wearing only her gun belt.

We moved slowly and quietly. Andy had point. I backed her up, very frequently turning to scan behind us to avoid any nasty surprise. We were coming around the corner of a cabin towards the pool when Andy moved her left hand back to stop me. Her hand touched me right on my dick. Andy squeezed it quickly and nodded forward. I moved slightly to my left to see around the corner.

What I saw was a man kneeling, planting something small, dark, and curved into the ground. It looked to me like an anti-personnel mine. The man had fatigue pants, dark boots, what looked like a flak jacket, and a belt with an automatic on it and what looked like grenades.

Andy and I silently spread out so that we each had a clear field of fire. Our guns were up and aimed before Andy yelled, "Police. On the ground."

The man looked at us. I saw a hand move. Before we could do anything, there was an explosion. For just an instant, I thought that the man had committed suicide with a grenade. Then I processed that it was only a stun grenade. I could hear the man running. We took off after him, even though my vision was still ruined.

My vision came back quickly. I guess that the goggles protected my eyes from much of the flash. I could see our suspect moving a full speed towards the marsh. Looking up, I could see a vehicle stopped on the county road. Glancing to my right, I could see Andy running full speed with her bare breasts bouncing. She looked like some fantasy warrior princess, naked and well-armed.

I quickly worked out the angles in my mind. Assuming that the suspect was headed towards the vehicle, I should be able to intercept him if I broke right, went through the marsh, and got up onto the roadway. I told Andy that was what I was doing. "I'll stay behind him," was the response.

I ran into the marsh. The soggy ground sucked at my bare feet and the weeds whipped at my bare skin. I hoped none of it was poison ivy. I had calculated the angles correctly and was up on the road first. Looking to my right, I could see two areas of movement in the marsh, one behind the other, both moving more directly towards what I could see now was an old Nissan sedan.

I sprinted up the road until I was just a few feet from the car. I was positioned so that I should have a clear shot as he came up the slight embankment. If something went wrong in the marsh, if he turned to attack Andy, I'd have higher ground above him. It wasn't perfect, but it was the best I could think of.

Our suspect came charging up the embankment towards the car. As soon as he was in the clear, I shouted, "Freeze. Police." The suspect dropped into a crouch and turned to face me. I had my gun aimed and was already putting pressure on the trigger.

Just then, Andy broke from cover just a few feet behind the suspect. He glanced at Andy and, I assume, assessed her as the more immediate threat. He turned about 90 degrees to face her. As he did, he unholstered his weapon. I shouted again, "Police. Drop the gun!"

Everything suddenly seemed to be in slow motion. I saw the suspect raising his gun hand towards Andy. I saw that he had some sort of protection around his chest. I figured that my best stopping shot was a head shot. Even if I missed, it should screw his aim. His arm was almost level at Andy when I fired. The heavy gun's recoil forced my gun arm up violently. As fast as I could, I brought it back down. I aimed at what seemed like the suspect still standing, and fired a chest shot. When I recovered from that recoil, the suspect was down and Andy was crouched at the top of the embankment.

Into the radio, I said "You ok?" as I walked toward the supine suspect, gun arm still extended, my sight still on his torso.

Andy replied to me, "I'm fine. You definitely got him. He's down."

As I stepped forward some more and took up a covering position, Andy picked up a stick and carefully dragged the suspect's gun away from his slightly twitching hand. I moved forward some more and saw that my second shot at his chest had been gratuitous. My ammunition had a powerful charge and the range had been closer than my weapon was designed for. I had blown away the top half of the man's head.

It hit me and I started laughing. After 22 years of law enforcement, I had just had my first shooting incident. I had been stark naked.

Andy walked over to me. She had taken off the headset and said in a normal voice, "Are you ok?"

I pulled myself together. "Yeah." I pulled the radio off of my belt. "Let me call this in." I radioed the situation and our location to the Sheriff's dispatch. "The subject is probably dead, but we still need medical. Also, please send out some clothes."

Confident that the suspect was at least immobile, I finally lowered my gun. Andy walked up with her gun lying sideways in her palm. Heavy grass was wrapped around it. "Thanks Harry," Andy said, "I got his shit chasing him and couldn't get a shot."

In about 15 minutes, the scene was bathed in flashing blue and red lights. The deputies had been told that officers were in control of the scene, so they didn't exit their cars with guns drawn. However, the fact that Andy and I were both naked did not escape their attention. Naturally, the deputy bringing us something to wear arrived last. He had scrounged two of those orange jumpsuits which they issue to jail prisoners. Modesty was irrelevant at this point. Andy and I shed our goggles and gun belts, bent over, and pulled the jumpsuits on.

We were at the Sheriff's office writing initial reports, still in our jumpsuits, when someone bothered to tell us that the Nissan was registered to an Eric Wentz. Calls to the phone number found for Wentz went unanswered. The address which the deputies pulled was a ratty apartment behind a convenience store in the county seat. We were told that the apartment looked occupied, but no one was answering the door. The deputies decided to wait for a warrant.

Not long after, we learned that the fingerprints on my corpse matched an Eric Wentz, recently separated from the Army with a less than honorable discharge. That was enough to get a warrant. The sun was up now. While deputies went to execute the search warrant, I called Bishop's office number and left a voicemail describing what had happened. I left my gun in the custody of the Sheriff. A deputy gave us a ride back to Sunland to get our clothes and my vehicle.

We walked up and into our Sunland cabin in our jail jumpsuits. Once the door closed, Andy said, "Are you ready to face the world?"

"Not really," I replied.

"Me neither," Andy said.

We stripped off the jumpsuits and embraced each other. After just holding each other for several minutes, Andy took my hand and led me into the bedroom. She lay down on her back on top of the bedspread. I climbed on top of her. Andy used both hands to guide me into her.

Despite what we had been through, this was not frantic fucking. While I slowly and rhythmically pumped, trying to find where she was most responsive, we kissed, nibbled, and giggled. We kept eye contact. At that moment, Andy's eyes were the most beautiful things I'd ever seen and I wanted to be in her forever. We were truly making love.

It was a long time, but not long enough. Andy started having very short, shallow breaths. She closed her eyes and gave a low moan. Her body shuddered. Then, she reopened her eyes, which were gleaming, and smiled. I felt myself about to come and started to back out. Andy wrapped her legs around me and held me in. I came inside my partner.

When I rolled off of Andy, we lay beside each other. She kissed me. "Damn, we should have done that a long time ago," Andy said. "That was fun."

A serious look came across her face. "Thank you Harry. Thank you for all of it." Andy pointed to an old, fading scar just below her ribcage. "I got that in the Marines when my teammate didn't act like you did. Damn near died."

Just then, we heard someone knocking on the cabin door. Without thinking, I got up and answered it. It was Carol Timmons and Barb Stamper. Their eyes immediately went to my groin. I looked down and saw that I was still semi-erect. My dick was wet with Andy's fluids and my semen. Barb giggled, "I hope we're not interrupting."

"No," I said. I stepped back from the door to let them in.

Andy walked out of the bedroom with her face still flushed, nipples hard, and hair everywhere. She smiled at Carol and Barb. "Just some stress relief," Andy said.

Obviously, everyone at the resort had heard the stun grenade go off in the night and heard the shots. Wisely, they had all stayed indoors. According to Carol, later confirmed for me, deputies had recovered the object which Wentz had been sticking into the ground. They had told Carol that it was a shrapnel mine, remote controlled.

"Did you get the guy?" Barb asked.

"We think so, but that needs to be checked," I said.

Andy and I finally got dressed and left Sunland late that afternoon. The next morning at work, I was greeted with (a) notice that, although I was not suspended, the State Patrol would investigate the shooting, which the County Sheriff had already called justified, and (b) a report that the search of Wentz's apartment had turned up a lot of things, including a launcher for the type of rocket fired at Sunland. Wentz's landlord gave a description of him that matched the body which we had.

Late that day, a deputy delivered to our office a box of items seized at Wentz's apartment. Of most immediate interest were several unsent letters threatening Sunland. There were also some old high school yearbooks and back issues of the weekly county newspaper.

A couple days later, we learned from the Army that Wentz had been a Ranger. He had been married with a young child. He was deployed to Iraq to train anti-ISIS fighters. During his deployment, a drunk driver ran a light and killed his wife and infant son. When Wentz rotated home, he began drinking heavily. Finally, he attacked an MP, breaking a rib and the officer's jaw. In consideration of his service and his life crisis, Wentz was not court-martialed, but he was discharged.

We also learned that, before the Army, Wentz had gone to high school in a town about halfway between Sunland and the state capital. That sent me back to the yearbooks. I noticed that Wentz had marked several pages with pictures of a cute cheerleader identified as Barb DeMint. The face looked vaguely familiar, but I put it together when I saw that Wentz had saved an article from the paper several months ago about Sunland. The article quoted and had a picture of Sunland vice president Barb Stamper.

Andy and I called Carol Timmons and drove back to Sunland to meet with her and Barb Stamper. We gave Stamper the yearbooks. After leafing through them for a few minutes, Barb exclaimed, "Jesus Christ! Eric!"

As I had surmised, Wentz had gone to high school with Barb. "I knew that he had a crush on me then, but he was just such a, well, such a nothing and his parents had him in that really bizarre church," Barb explained. She looked more than a little uncomfortable when I recounted Wentz's history in the Army. "He called me a few months ago, "Barb added. "He said that he'd been gone, but he knew that I'd been waiting for him. I told him that he was crazy and that I was very happily married. He yelled 'bitch' and hung up." Barb paused. "Shit. Was this whole thing about me?"

"No," Andy said. "Eric snapped. He may not have had too solid a foundation to start with. You're not responsible at all for what happened to him or how he reacted to it."

Barb had tears in her eyes. She looked at Andy. "Thank you," she said.

Although we had confirmed what we had suspected, it was still depressing. Wentz had risked his life, repeatedly, in the service of our country. Through no fault of his, his wife and child were taken from him. Instead of coping or getting help, he ended up harassing and endangering innocent people, and he tried to kill my partner. I didn't see any positive aspect to this story.

Andy took my hand as we walked back to the car. As I was opening Andy's door, I heard Carol Timmons call out, "Wait, just a minute."

Carol ran out to our car. She was holding a manila envelope. "I know that you are not supposed to accept gifts for doing your jobs. But, we've never had an issue like this around here. Most of us have never dealt with anything like this any time in our lives. We're very grateful for what you two did. We'd really appreciate if you will accept this. No one will tell your boss." She handed Andy the envelope. "We know that you'll probably never use it, but the board voted last night to grant you both life memberships in Sunland."

Andy smiled. She said, "thank you" to Carol. Turning to me, she said, "Harry, do you think that we can use this? What are you up to this weekend?"

"Going to a naturist resort with you, I hope," I answered.

Andy winked at me. "That was the right answer Harry."

Despite my earlier depression, I now realized that something very good had come out of this case. I kissed Andy.

Andy and I are still partners, just not professionally. We're very close to Carol and Bob and Barb and Carl. We go to Sunland every chance we get, even in winter, and try to go nude as often as possible. Barb was right, being seen nude is very nice. Andy is a few years older now. She's even more beautiful. More important, she is still the same very, very good person. I love her more than anything.