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Dawn of Tears - 9. A Day of Firsts
Note to Readers: In the years that followed, many people took critical looks at the choice of James R. Jacobs for the Presidency in those first days after the nuclear attack. There were several people who under the 26th Amendment might have legitimately claimed the position, but they all deferred to a choice that was to be made by the last surviving elected members of Congress. It was actually one man who secured the selection of Dad, and that was Senator Crawley.
The choice was nothing if not controversial in those few days, but as you know from history, things did work out by and large exactly as was necessary. You might think Henry and I were shell-shocked by the sudden thrust into the national spotlight, and to a point we were. However, we were also thrown a challenge that really required us to use our intelligence and skills in ways we had never dreamed of before. All we saw was a real challenge, a real test of our abilities, and while we 'knew' what we did would impact people, I don't think we realized that the impacts would be as far-reaching or anything other than what we had intended.
Those days immediately after the selection of James R. Jacobs as President saw a lot of firsts for both of us, and sealed our feet firmly on the collision course with history itself. After that, there was no turning back for us, or for the world, and as much as we learned to control our environment and our abilities, so to did we become controlled by the path we had chosen. For all of our intelligence, we were blind to many things that would later come to haunt us forever, not the least of which was the responsibility for the events that would come later.
At 0430 local time, Sergeant Connors woke me up by knocking on my door. I was immediately awake and nodded as he told me General McFarland was waiting downstairs for me. He also told me to wear the dress uniform with sidearm and to hurry.
A quick shower later, and a few jealous thoughts towards Henry who was still asleep, I was dressed and heading out the door with Sergeant Connors leading the way and two unfamiliar privates behind us. All three had their rifles at hand and looked far more awake than I felt. General McFarland was waiting in the lobby downstairs and smiled as I approached and saluted him.
"Good morning, Jacobs." He greeted me familiarly, shaking my hand after returning my salute.
"Good morning, General." I answered him.
"I've got a job for you to do." He told me in a very grave tone. "I talked about it with your father yesterday and he said that if things went the way they did last night that you could do this. However, if you seriously object, you can turn part of it down."
"What is it, sir?" I asked curiously.
"Take this tape down to the local news station." He told me, handing me a video tape. I realized it must be the tape from last night. It was in a sealed container. "The news crew sealed it and it is not to be opened. The studio will be waiting for you. They go on air at 0700 and we're making sure they have power for operations all day. That's the part you can't refuse. The other part is that we know they'll want to interview you. We can't control what they may ask you, but you'll be able to refuse to answer or refuse to interview if you want. The President has said he trusts you to make the decision for yourself."
"I'll make my decision on the interview when I get there and assess the situation, sir." I told him in a firm voice, accepting the tape as I spoke.
"Good." He said with an approving nod. "Your brother will be sent to them tomorrow with whatever more tapes are ready for them and for interviews if he's willing so don't think he's going to escape the attention."
"I'll be sure not to warn him." I said with a slight grin and General McFarland laughed.
"There's some food and coffee waiting for you in your APC." He said. "Don't get a big head, but the vehicle is going to be assigned to you for the foreseeable future. Also, you are to go nowhere without a security detail. For the time being, Sergeant Connors is in command of your detail. That may change, but for now that's what we have arranged."
"Yes sir." I said and he dismissed me. I followed Connors outside and into a waiting troop transport. The vehicle commander, a Lieutenant, made it a point to introduce himself and ask me if I wanted to sit in his command seat. I told him no and sat next to Connors as the crowded vehicle took off.
"So how does it feel to be the son of the President?" Connors asked me after pushing a paper plate with a bagel on it and a thermos of coffee into my hands.
"Insane." I said slowly, sipping the coffee and feeling the caffeine working its way into me. "I keep wondering what the hell's going to happen next."
"Well, I need to make sure you understand some things, sir." He said, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "You may be an officer now, and able to issue orders, but there are some things that you will not be able to do. You will not be allowed to endanger yourself unnecessarily, and I determine what's necessary. You will not go anywhere without two of your approved guards with you. I've been told that the suite your family is in now will be your home for the foreseeable future. You can be in there without guards. You can be in any secure room with a family member without guards, anyone else you will have guards present."
"What if I get a girlfriend?" I asked plaintively. He just laughed.
"If you decide to get friendly with her, you'll have people watching." He said, and I laughed as well. No, that wouldn't be happening anytime soon.
It was almost an hour drive to wherever we were going. I wanted to look outside several times, but my one glance at the open cupola earned me a glare from Connors that told me I wouldn't be doing that anytime soon. We finally arrived, and the crowded vehicle emptied out as the troops deployed in a defensive perimeter. Connors led the way, and the two guards that had followed me from upstairs were behind me as I went through the open door. An attractive blond woman in her early twenties met me and immediately broke out into a big smile.
"You're Dylan Jacobs aren't you?" She exclaimed in an excited, chatty voice. I handed her the tape before replying.
"Yes, I am." I said slowly. "What's your name?"
"Paula Ackers." She told me excitedly. "Is this the tape of the ceremonies?"
"I suppose." I told her, smiling slightly. "It's sealed so I haven't seen what's inside."
"Oh, thank you." She said, and then she looked thoughtful for a moment. "Um, look, we weren't told you'd be bringing this. Do you think you might like to come up to the studio? I think a few people there might like to meet you."
"That's certainly doable." I said with another smile. This time Connors walked behind him as I followed her deeper into the station. We went through a soundproof door and I found myself inside a television studio for the first time.
"What the hell are armed troops doing in here?" A very angry and rotund man yelled as he saw us walking in the door with Paula.
"They're my guards." I said immediately, walking towards him with a smile on my face. I stuck my hand out towards him as he stared at me very suspiciously. "I'm Dylan Jacobs; it's nice to meet you. I've never been inside an actual television studio before. I hope you don't mind."
"Uh…Dylan Jacobs as in…uh, I hello." The man finally said through his surprise. He took my hand limply. He then took in a deep breath and yelled "TRAMONT! Get your pansy ass down here."
"Connors, can you find me some coffee please?" I asked, shaking my ear out with a finger. Connors chuckled and smiled at the pretty Paula and asked her if there was any coffee in the building. Apparently there was, hoarded by the station manager standing in front of me, who grudgingly told her to make me a pot. Connors left with her, leaving just the two guards behind me when the man I'd seen on T.V. the night before came trotting up. He was wearing a different suit and stared at me for a moment before his eyes went slightly wide. This was either going to be fun or very tiring.
"Dylan Jacobs." I said shortly, raising my hand to shake his. He at least had a decent grip.
"Daniel Tramont." The television anchor said. "They sent you with the tape?"
"Yeah, they did." I answered back, and he smiled.
"Any chance of an interview?" He asked me, trying not to look anxious.
"Depends." I said. "I'm not going to tell you what you can and can't ask. The only thing I require is that if I say I cannot or will not answer a question, you will drop that line of questioning immediately."
"That's it?" He asked looking surprised. "Nothing's off-limits?"
"I'd advise you against using poor judgment with your questions." I told him. "I'm a thirteen year old kid whose dad just got hit with a major job he never expected."
"Ah, I see." The man answered, and I noticed the station manager was still frowning at me. "I heard you were smart."
"Thanks." I said with a smile and he laughed.
"Okay, you have yourself a deal." He said. "Make up is through that door over there. We'll do your interview segment after we show the tape and announce your dad's…er…promotion. We also have a tape on some survivors they pulled out of Dallas early this morning. We'll be running that. Did you know your Dad's addressing the nation in two hours?"
"No I didn't." I said.
"Okay, go get make-up done. Have you done that before?" He asked me.
"Yes, once, yesterday." I said.
"Okay, see you in a bit." He said, moving off.
"No extra personnel allowed in the studio." The Manager said as soon as he was gone, nodding towards the guards.
"They leave, I leave." I told him.
"You don't want to be on air wearing a gun." He said flatly, his lips curling as he looked at the gun on my waist.
"I have no problem walking out of here forever." I told him flatly. I didn't like this man with a control problem. "I'm not going to pull my gun out and shoot you or your anchor just because he asked me a tough question. My guards aren't here to shoot him if he makes me cry. They, and my side arm, are here because if someone tries to kill me, I intend that they end up dead before they succeed. Any more stupid questions or comments?"
"No." He answered flatly, moving off. I noticed the two soldiers behind me were smiling now as they followed me into the make-up room. I had to go through the whole surprise thing, are you really Dylan Jacobs once more with the woman, but I took pleasure in telling her a completely ridiculous and untrue story about how my brother loves to have his head patted when he was in make-up. The thought of her patting his head tomorrow while putting the icky stuff on his face had me ready to laugh.
The make-up lady directed me to another room where I could wait for my time to go out into the studio. There was a television here, and Connors finally showed up with the coffee I'd ordered. It was in a large mug with the station logo on it, and he was wearing a very silly grin on his face.
"You sly dog you." I muttered as he sat down next to me, watching the tape of last night. I hadn't been in the room when they'd actually voted on dad, and I was surprised at how fast it was. Most of the time they'd taken had been in deciding that they wouldn't split 'leadership' of the event along party lines and that they'd operate as one group instead of two political parties. In my opinion, that was actually more important than picking dad as President, and offered the most hope.
"What?" Connors asked, trying to look innocent.
"Don't play with me." I warned him. "I may be thirteen but I'm not blind. Did you actually screw her or was it just a blow job?"
"I'm not discussing stuff like that with a thirteen year old kid, or a superior officer." Connors said seriously.
"Then discuss it with your friend, Paul." I said softly and he looked at me sharply.
"Friend?" He asked.
"I think of you as a friend, as well as a mentor and fellow soldier." I said seriously, and was pleased when he smiled slightly.
"Blow job." He said softly. "Not bad either. First time in four months. I don't fool around with other people in uniform."
"Cool." I said softly, smiling. I wondered if he knew how much he'd revealed to me with that statement. A small voice wondered if I should be worried, what with dad being a preacher, and my own beliefs, but I realized that I hadn't totally rejected the things I'd grown up believing. We watched the screen in silence after that, and when it got close to the end of dad's speech, Paula appeared, waving me to get ready. She smiled coyly at Connors and I had to resist the urge to smirk. I wondered if she thought I was blind and stupid.
I missed the anchor's reaction to the video because Paula was leading me into the studio. It was dark except where the lights shone on the anchor's curvy desk. I sound technician came up to me and began to attach a microphone and battery pack. When the anchor saw me in position and ready he smiled towards one of the cameras and continued speaking.
"…as you just saw, the surviving elected members of Congress chose former National Guard General James Jacobs to assume the duties of the President of the United States. The tape was delivered to us, sealed and untouched by a special courier who I would like to introduce to all of you. Ladies and gentlemen, it is my very great pleasure to welcome to our studio, Dylan Jacobs, son of our new President!"
I took that as my cue and made my way on stage and behind the curvy desk. I noticed there was a backless stool sitting near his, and shook his hand as he stood. He motioned me to sit on the stool, I did, careful to keep my back straight. I remembered my first dad talking about news interviews he'd done, and he'd said once to always look at the interviewer, never the camera, so I followed that advice now.
"Dylan Jacobs, I must say that it is an honor to meet you." Daniel Tramont said and I smiled back at him.
"It's nice to meet you as well, Mr. Tramont." I said. "I must say I never expected to be on national television before yesterday, and even now I'm kind of in shock."
"Please, call me Dan." He said in a very friendly tone. "I think right now a lot of people are in shock. Things seemed to be shaping up there for a bit, and now it's like we've been punched in the gut."
"Well, we have been punched in the gut." I replied and saw his eyebrows go up. "We've suffered a great loss, something unparalleled in history. Yesterday many people, including me, were worried because the leadership of our country had been eliminated. That problem was solved last night."
"I'm sure many people are glad to see it solved, even if the manner was rather unusual." He said in a tone that cast obvious doubt on the legitimacy of dad's Presidency.
"How could it be anything but unusual?" I asked him very seriously, leaning slightly towards him, hoping it projected an earnest image. "A few months ago, our economy, our way of life collapsed as a result of vicious attacks. Our armed forces have been fighting the militaries of other countries to get the oil we needed to get our country back on our feet. Even if your cameras weren't there to record the pilots being shot down, the ships taking their crews to a watery grave, it doesn't change the fact that thousands of our soldiers and sailors died trying to get us the resources we need to put our country back together. Those that died, though, didn't die in vain because we did get the supplies we needed. In my hometown, our factories were reopening, people were working, and food was flowing out to our neighbors. Much of the fuel that made it possible came from our neighbors in the Bakersfield area to the south, and when their help got us back on our feet, they got food in return to help them get back on their feet.
"That's what the core of our success was. We stopped trying to focus on what would get us through the next day and looked at the big picture, we looked at we needed, and what we could do to help our neighbors and when we had enough to work with, we helped our neighbors. That's how this country is going to get back on its feet, by helping each other, by uniting together. The answer to our problems is in the name of our country itself, the United States of America.
"Last night, the surviving members of Congress got together to pick someone who could help lead this country out of the problems we are suffering. Three months ago, these people from two different parties would have argued about the time of day it was, much less who should take the most powerful job of this country in times of such peril. Last night, they put their differences aside, united together and made a decision based on the needs of the country, and the abilities of different people for the job. My father has shown that he understands how to get our hometown, the area he was responsible for, back on its feet and working. That city of over two hundred thousand people now has power continuously for over sixty percent of its population. There is food for anyone who needs it, and instead of eating in a shelter or a church, most families are now eating together in their own home, and watching broadcasts like this in their own home instead of huddled together with thousands of other people.
"Last night, the people in that room, chosen by the people of the United States, voted to allow my father to do for America what he did for his own District. No one told them who to pick, no one threatened them, and no one forced them in any way to pick him. They did what this country is based on, and voted for him to take this job on, and I believe that he's the right person for the job, and for the times we live in now."
"You're thirteen?" Dan's voice was full of surprise.
"Yes. I'll be fourteen in January." I answered with a shy grin, praying I wouldn't blush.
"You're probably the most eloquent thirteen-year old I've ever met." He said with a grin.
"You might try talking to more teenagers." I retorted and he chuckled.
"Okay, so let's talk about you." He said, switching targets. "You're sitting there in an army uniform, are you a member of the JROTC?"
"No, I'm a Warrant Officer in the US Army." I stated. "Mom and dad signed some paperwork, allowing my brother and I to join the army. We are both Warrant Officers with the same responsibilities as any other member in uniform."
"So the military is now recruiting people in the what, seventh grade?" He asked in a shocked voice.
"No, they're not." I said firmly. "My brother and I are special cases."
"Because of your father?" He pressed.
"No." I answered. "It's because of us. You see, both my brother and I are a little smart. God gave us a gift of unusual intelligence. When we were in the third grade, we both tested in the top one percent of all children in the U.S. Our parents wanted us to skip a few grades, but we declined, preferring to live relatively normal lives. It's a good thing we did too, or we wouldn't have ever met."
"Excuse me, met?" He asked and I grinned.
"Yeah, we met in the sixth grade and became best friends." I said.
"I'm sorry, I'm missing something here." He said, shaking his head very slightly.
"Oh, I thought you knew that they adopted me." I said. "I mentioned it yesterday at the church service that was broadcast across the country. My birth parents died in the first days of the crisis and the Jacobs family took me in, treating me like one of their own. Henry's been my best friend since we met and really I don't think of myself as anything but a part of the Jacobs family."
"Oh, sorry." He said.
"It's nothing to be sorry about." I replied immediately. "It's just another example of the type of man that is now leading this country. He opened his arms, his heart, to me without a second thought, and he treats me the same as he treats Henry. We really are brothers. You see, during the first days of the crisis, he picked us up from school and took us to his church where we started helping out, providing food and shelter to those who needed it. We also reunited families that had been separated and did whatever we could to make those troubled times better for people.
"Dad was busy directing his troops in stopping the riots and restoring some semblance of order. Most of the troops were in the field, and there was not enough staff to keep paperwork in order. As anyone who has been in the military can tell you, paperwork is the lifeblood of any military organization. It's necessary to keep track of when supplies are used, vehicles are lost or in need of repair, what spare parts are available, and what people are assigned to what units. If that paperwork isn't kept up to date, troops in the field will run out of ammunition with which to fight, vehicles will break down and people will die because they can't get what they need where they need it. Now, no commander is going to keep troops he needs in the field back at HQ doing paperwork. Doing that is as dangerous as losing track of where his supplies are. Dad's solution to the problem he was facing was to bring Henry and I in to the HQ and help with the paperwork. We're both smart enough to handle the work load, and he knew that."
"So why are you now actually in uniform?" Dan asked with genuine curiosity.
"Because we wanted to serve our country." I answered. "God's given us both great gifts in intelligence and the ability to quickly learn a lot of things that many people our age aren't quite able to yet. When everything in our country was working fine, it was no big deal for us to let these gifts go unused. But in a time when everyone is needed to do everything that they can do, not living up to my, our, full potential would be a sin."
"So you think that all kids should be allowed to do the work of adults?" Dan inquired.
"No." I answered firmly. "But everyone should be allowed to contribute everything that they can. Back home, schools were about to reopen. When they do, kids going to those schools, and learning everything they can is just as valuable a contribution as what I, or my father, do in the roles we now fill. Every person working to their fullest potential is what we need. For me, it is the role I now play in the army and helping my father in whatever way he, and our country, needs. You sitting there, asking these questions and informing the people of what is going on in the world is just as valuable, if not more valuable, than everything I've done or will do."
"An interesting perspective." He said. "Now, I've got a nice surprise for you. We've arranged a special phone line to a nearby Red Cross facility, and we're going to take some calls from the people there. They're watching us right now. Do you mind hearing what people might want to ask?"
"I'd be honored." I said slowly, the butterflies were coming back to my stomach with a vengeance. A female voice filled the studio and I barely kept myself from groaning aloud.
"Dylan you look so cuuuuuute in that uniform." A female and obviously teenage voice screeched. "Please tell me you don't have a girlfriend!"
"I don't." I said with a soft chuckle. "Nor am I likely to anytime soon. Since Dad's now the President I have armed guards that go everywhere I do and that kind of makes it hard to kiss without someone telling on me."
"Poor guy." Dan said with a smirk. "Let's take the next caller."
"Hey Dylan!" A male voice said. "I was wondering if you might tell what your father's position is on gay rights."
"I love this." I said, feigning excitement while my mind raced. "My first two questions as the President's son and I'm being asked about my love life and what dad things about people's private lives. Tough questions are always fun. Let's see, Dad's a Baptist preacher, so a lot of people might expect him to say gay people should rot in hell, but I'll tell you this, I know for a fact that dad believes every American has the inalienable rights of liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Whether two guys or two girls can get married, you'll have to ask him about that. I do know that he will be very glad to see the day when that issue is the most important issue in this nation again, because at that point, Americans will no longer be worrying about whether there will be food on the table tonight, or whether they'll survive to see another day. Some people might point to issues like this as a sign of the decadence of a society, but I'd prefer to think of them as a sign that a society is doing a decent enough job at feeding their people that those people don't have to worry about things other than the basic necessities of life."
"So you really don't have an answer for the caller?" Dan pointed out.
"Dad and I never have discussed this topic." I said firmly. "If the caller wants to know, I encourage him to ask dad, who can answer. However, I might want to remind the caller that dad's current focus is going to be on keeping that caller alive, making sure he has food to eat, and even has the opportunity to earn a living. Once those things are taken care of, I'm sure he'll be happy to focus on the caller's issues."
"So you don't think minority rights are important?" The caller said, sounding hurt.
"Tell me," I said, now looking at the camera, and hopefully the caller. "which is more important to you right now: Having food to eat tonight or worrying about who you are going to marry?"
"It doesn't matter if there's food to eat if people discriminate against me or beat me up because of who I sleep with." The caller said, and I could hear angry sounding people behind him.
"It sounds like you're pissing people off behind you." I said slowly, and calmly. "I want to tell those people to calm down because your questions are very relevant. The President, my father, is focusing on getting America and its citizens back on their feet. That means every single American, regardless of their religion, their skin color, their background, and yes, even who they sleep with. When Americans have power in their homes, when they go to sleep at night not worrying about a mob burning them down before they wake up, and when people have to stop wondering if there's going to be food available tomorrow, then we will have the luxury to debate whether the ability for two men to marry is a right or a privilege.
"I'll tell you this right now, if someone wants to take a gay person out and beat them up right now while times are bad, or hunt down someone who is Jewish so they can have someone to blame, they better look over their shoulder because the police, the National Guard, or the Army will be watching for them. If I were to see you, the caller I'm talking to right now, being assaulted by people because you sleep with guys or because of your skin color, those assaulting you will have nightmares for the rest of their lives, if they live. When I received this uniform, I took an oath to protect and defend this country, and that includes everyone in it. So long as you're not breaking the laws, or hurting your fellow citizens, I, and my father, will do everything he can to help you live, and give you the opportunity to fulfill your god-given potential. Is that enough to help you feel a little safer?"
"Yes." The caller said and it sounded like someone else was picking up the phone.
"I was wondering if you and your brother are born again Christians." A middle-aged woman asked in a high-pitched tone.
"Yes, we are." I said with a laugh. "That's all I'm going to say on television right now. If you want to know more, meet me in person or see me in church."
"God bless you son." The woman said sweetly and another caller could be heard grabbing the phone. This was sounded like a kid my age.
"Is that a real gun you're wearing?" The kid asked.
"Yes, it is." I said with a smile. "But I promised not to shoot anyone here so I can't scare Dan."
"Funny." Dan said with a smile. "Next caller."
"Have you ever shot someone?" The next voice asked, this one sounding like an older teenager.
"Yes, I have." I said, my face clouding over. "Dad referred to the incident last night and I'm not going to go into more details than he did. Suffice it to say that my brother and I found someone who was about to shoot a high-ranking military officer and we used the tools we had at hand to stop him."
"You've actually killed someone?" Dan said in a horrified voice.
"I've also seen a very kind, caring, and loving woman who was a National Guard Captain killed right in front of me." I said in a stony voice. "Captain Overton was teaching me mathematics at HQ and we were in the field at a job registration site. A neo-Nazi who had seen me there and knew who my dad was took a rifle and tried to kill me. He missed me by an inch. I felt the bullet pass right by above my head, and I watched as the bullet killed one of the nicest, most caring women I've ever known. The squad of soldiers I was with managed to capture the man. I faced him as close as we are now, knowing he tried to kill me, and that he killed a woman I cared about and knew personally. Last I heard he was in prison waiting trial for murder. If he's found guilty, he faces the death penalty and I hope he gets it. I probably could have pulled my gun out right then, and shot him, but I didn't. I know when the use of deadly force is necessary, and when it isn't. I've been given the privilege of carrying a weapon, and I will never abuse that privilege, nor will I use deadly force when it's not necessary."
"A very adult answer from a very mature young man." Dan said in a more normal tone. Okay, we have time for one more caller before the new President's first speech to the nation"
"Hi Dylan." A woman's voice said sweetly. "I want to say I'm sorry about you family but so glad the President adopted you so quickly."
"Thank you." I said softly, a soft smile on my face.
"You're welcome, sweetie." The woman caller said. "I was wondering what you think you're father will do when he finds who murdered our people yesterday."
"Well, first I think he's going to make sure we know exactly who did that." I said slowly, knowing the full answer, and knowing I could never share that. It was dad's place to really answer that question. "When we find out who, we have to find out why, and then my father and his advisors will figure out the best way to respond. I know he won't want to destroy the world for revenge, but I do believe he'll want whoever did this to pay a price similar to what we paid. I have a sneaky suspicion, call it a gut feeling, that there is much more than any of us know going on here, and I know that my dad will figure out what is happening."
"Does that answer your question?" Dan asked.
"Yes, and I still hope he nukes the bastards that did this!" The woman said before the sounds of the line went silent.
"Well, Dylan, I want to thank you for being here today." Dan said.
"It was fun, Dan." I said with a smile.
"I hope we didn't scare you away from the media." Dan retorted.
"No, you didn't." I answered.
"Well, thank you those who watched, and thanks to our callers. We'll be signing off here as the President prepares to address the nation from Huntsville, Alabama."
"And we're clear!" The voice of a man echoed through the stage.
"You really are an uncommon teenager." Dan said with a friendly smile.
"Thanks." I said feeling really stressed out all of a sudden. "I hope I didn't do too badly."
"Just be glad we don't have commercials yet or interruptions." He advised me and I almost chuckled.
"I'll remember that." I told him.
"You look like you've got some post-show jitters." He said in a concerned voice. "You want someplace to relax?"
"I'd actually like to watch dad's speech." I replied. "But maybe somewhere private, if that is possible."
"Come with me." He said with a smile. I followed him deeper into the building, my guards following us slightly nervously. Dan led me into an enclosed room with a comfortable looking couch, several chairs and a couple of tables. A television rested on a counter and he turned it on. The seal of the President was the only thing on the screen.
"Thanks." I said.
"No problem." Dan replied. "Stay as long as you want. We'll be in the main control room watching the speech from there. Just stop by before you leave and say bye."
"Okay, Dan." I said softly.
"Do you want us inside or outside, sir?" One of the guards who hadn't spoken before now asked me.
"Where's Connors?" I asked him.
"He's at the APC checking with command on what they want us to do now." The same guard replied. I looked the room over. There was only the one entrance, and there were no cameras in the room either.
"Can you wait outside please?" I told them. "I really don't want to see any of the people that work here, but Connors or anyone from the unit is fine. Oh, and if I can get some more coffee, I'd love it."
"No problem sir." The guardsman said with a friendly smile before they left the room. I sighed as I lay down on the couch, waiting for dad's speech to begin. I hoped I'd done okay on television, and that I hadn't really messed anything up too bad. The screen changed finally, but instead of dad it was Dan's face that appeared. He announced that there were some technical difficulties and that the President would be on a bit later. I got up and turned the volume down as he started to talk about the survivors from Dallas and showed the video again. As I sat down on the couch again, the door opened and guy who looked about my age entered, carrying two cups of coffee. I was surprised when the guardsman just looked around the room before shutting the door behind the kid.
"Hi!" The kid said cheerfully. He was about my height, built pretty well also. He was wearing combat boots, camouflage pants, and a gray muscle t-shirt. "You wanted some more coffee?"
"Yes, thank you." I said, taking the large thermos carefully. "Um, who are you?"
"I'm Jimmy Connolly." He said sticking his now free hand out for me to shake. I switched hands for the coffee cup and shook his hand.
"Dylan Jacobs." I said.
"Yeah, I kind of know that." He said with a lopsided smile. "So you are waiting to watch your dad's speech?"
"Yes." I said carefully, wondering why the guards had just let him in and weren't in here as well. It was a direct violation of Connor's directions.
"You looked real good on television." He said. "I was lucky mom has the broadcast so I could come down here with her. Dad would never let me leave the compound alone. He's worried someone will try to shoot me."
"Connolly." I said slowly, realizing where I had heard that name before. "Your dad is the General in command of the Alabama National Guard."
"Yeah, and your dad is the President" he said, flopping down on the couch. I sat down as well. His hair was longer than mine, and brown, and actually framed his face very well. He was different looking than Henry, but I realized he was fairly attractive as well.
"So, how'd you know where I was and that I wanted coffee?" I asked finally taking a cautious sip. It was fixed just the way I liked it.
"Was talking to your troops at the APC." Jimmy answered with a grin. "I heard Sammy call down saying where you were at and that you wanted more coffee. Some guy name of Connors gave it to me when I offered to take it up. I wanted to meet you and since Sammy knows me he told Connors it was okay."
"Sammy?" I asked.
"Yeah, he's the taller guy outside the door." Jimmy said. "I think your Connors was happy to stay down there. That slut, Paula was out there as well."
"Probably wants another blow job." I snorted, and then wished I hadn't. Jimmy however, just laughed.
"Sammy's a really good guy." Jimmy said with an odd note in his voice. "I wish he hadn't been transferred out, but that was my fault."
"How's that?" I asked curiously. Jimmy just stared at me for a moment before changing the topic.
"Pretty freaky that you got a call from a faggot so soon, eh?" Jimmy asked.
"Don't use that word." I snapped irritably, feeling a headache starting. "Say 'gay' or 'homosexual'."
"What are you so touchy about?" Jimmy asked, but his voice wasn't hostile. "It's not like either of our fathers like people like that."
"I'm not my dad, and you aren't yours." I said. "I don't like words like that any more than I like the 'n' word and I could care less if my dad agreed or disagreed."
"But you don't like those people do you?" He asked in a curious tone.
"I don't like or dislike anyone based on who they sleep with." I said firmly.
"So if I told you the reason that Sammy got transferred was because my older sister caught him giving me a blow job and told mom you wouldn't like hate him or me?" Jimmy asked in a very quiet voice.
"I'd actually wonder why you were stupid enough to do that where you could get caught by your sister and how he didn't get kicked out." I answered him and realized he was telling the truth when he sighed with relief.
"Mom just told dad she didn't like him around the place and dad transferred him out." Jimmy said slowly.
"Lucky him and lucky you." I said. "You could have ruined his life like that."
"I know." He said softly. "I heard dad trying to figure out who to send for your guard detail and I told him that Sammy was really a good guy and that mom just didn't like him because he looked at her weird one time. Mom's weird like that at times. I was glad to get Sammy assigned to you."
"Why?" I asked, only half-paying attention to the conversation now. General McFarland was on the screen now, but it appeared to be an old tape, not something current. "You thought he'd be able to give me good blow jobs?"
"He is pretty good." Jimmy said with a laugh. "But I wasn't thinking about that. He likes being on guard detail with regular people and I thought he'd be more comfortable assigned with you than doing paperwork which is what he'd been transferred to after he left my detail."
"Oh, that's a good reason I guess." I said, still watching the television mostly. This whole topic was now making me uncomfortable. It was one thing talking about Connors getting a blow job from Paula. To be honest, there was something tingly about that, but the thought of two guys…that was just too…dangerous. I shifted on the couch and realized from the tightness I was wearing tight dress uniform pants, not the looser camouflage pants.
"So, if he wanted to, would you let him?" Jimmy asked, and I realized what I'd said earlier about why Jimmy had gotten his friend transferred to my detail. Okay, if I'd been thinking I'd have let this topic go on like this.
"Um, no." I said.
"Why not?" Jimmy said.
"Because I don't want him to." I said firmly.
"What if you were like really, really horny." Jimmy asked, his face showing excitement and he turned on the couch to face me properly. "What if you really, really needed it and he was there."
"I'd go jack off." I growled.
"Oh, c'mon, you're telling me you'd rather jack off when there was someone willing nearby?" Jimmy asked me, edging slightly closer.
"That's what I'd do, yes." I said.
"Man, you aren't that smart after all. Don't you know how much better it feels to have someone touch you than to do it yourself?" Jimmy said, continuing to push.
"No, I don't know because I've never done it with in anyone." I said firmly, hoping that would end the conversation.
"You're a virgin?" He said in surprise. "Wow, I lost mine with my best bud when we were twelve! So, tell me, you ever kissed?"
"No." I said in a low, dangerous tone.
"Why not?" He asked instead of teasing me.
"Never really been interested enough to do that." I answered honestly.
"So, like if I really wanted to be your first kiss could I?" He asked, and looked extremely hopeful.
"No." I answered firmly. "I'm not going to have my 'first kiss' be because someone was curious. It'll be because I want to do it."
"So it's not because I'm a guy?" He asked in that hopeful tone that was wearing on my nerves.
"No." I answered, and wondered for a moment why I didn't just lie to him. I should have, I really, really, really, really should have.
"So it's because I've done it before." He said.
"No, it's because you got caught and just starting yapping away about the whole thing to me within a few minutes of meeting me. You don't even know me and here you are talking about someone that good a guy in a lot of trouble." I snapped angrily.
"You're the only person I've ever told." He said, pouting a little. I had to squirm again, but it didn't work.
"Then why'd you tell me?" I asked.
"Because of the way you handled that caller." He said. "We got to the studio just after you started and I thought that maybe there was someone at least I could meet who was my age and that I could talk to. My buddy Jay, he moved away about two months before the shit went down and now I can't even talk to him on the phone. He knew about me being gay and was cool with it. We fooled around like twice, maybe three times, but he's pretty sure he's straight."
"How old are you?" I asked him.
"Just turned fifteen." Jimmy said. "I'm sorry, I just got so excited at the idea of maybe having someone to talk to. Sammy, even when we'd do stuff, he'd never talk about it. He walked in on me jacking off in my room one time and well, I kind of saw his reaction to seeing me like that and I thought maybe if we fooled around he'd talk to me about…you know…stuff. He never really talked to me. I mean he was always nice, not telling dad when I did stuff I wasn't supposed to, but he never just talked to me. My sister is like four years older. She's supposed to be in college, but you know how that worked out this year. I just wish she'd gone to a school out of state so Dad wouldn't have brought her home."
"I'm sorry Jimmy." I said immediately, actually feeling sorry for him. I knew that if I wanted to, I could always talk to Henry. I just hadn't wanted to. "I'm pretty lucky. I've got a brother and best friend all rolled into one."
"So your big deal was that I told you too much so fast?" He asked me.
"Yeah, but you were right on with your assumptions." I told him and he smiled. I let myself enjoy that smile for a moment. "I am someone you can talk to. I know I wouldn't mind having you for a friend."
"You mean that?" He asked in a small voice and I wondered why someone who was older than me would act…so much younger.
"Yes, I do." I assured him.
"So what if I wanted to be your first kiss?" He asked me and I laughed.
"You're persistent aren't you?" I asked in return.
"Yes, I am." He smirked at me, flipping his hair ever so slightly. "You know, there's not too many people who could say they were the first kiss of the President's son."
"You're right there." I said, wondering if Henry had kissed Terry when they'd had sex.
"So, want a kiss?" He asked me, pushing some more. He even inched towards me on the couch.
"Henry, my brother told me something not too long ago." I said. "He told me that dad won't care who we kiss, or more, as long as we're smart enough not to get caught, and not to kiss someone who'll kiss and tell."
"Sammy's outside and he knows about me." Jimmy said softly.
"But he doesn't know we might be kissing." I said just as softly, my pants very uncomfortable now and a warm, tingly feeling filled every part of my body.
"Just tell him you don't want to be disturbed." Jimmy whispered. "He'll get the message."
"But.." I started to protest, looking towards the door. When I turned back towards Jimmy though, he'd moved and now our noses were almost touching. I noticed that he had the prettiest blue eyes.
"You worry too much." He whispered, and before I knew it, his lips were touching mine, softly.
That one, simple touch proved my downfall right then and there. Things I'd tried not to think about, things I wanted to ignore exploded up inside of me as those lips touched mine, and a low growl escaped my throat. My hands reached up and grabbed the back of his head, and I pulled his lips back onto mine just as he was starting to pull back. Our noses bumped each other, but I tilted my head to the side and covered his lips with my own. As if of its own accord, my tongue snaked out from my mouth and I tasted his lips.
They tasted like sweat, but a sweet sweat that wasn't the least bit repulsive. Instead it was intoxicating, and it grew more so when he moaned softly and opened his mouth, letting my tongue inside. His tongue met mine, and they battled silently. Another growl escaped my lips, and when he moaned in answer I leaned forward, pushing him backwards onto the couch. It almost felt like something inside of me, that warm and tingly feeling was pouring from me and into him, and that only made the feelings rushing through me become more intense.
He'd drawn his leg up under him as he'd been sitting, and now he spread the leg out on the couch as stretched out flat. I lowered myself on top of them, never letting our lips separate as my tongue won the battle between us. I could feel his excited boner pressing into my hip, next to my own, and he moaned again. My lungs finally screamed for air, and I pulled off his mouth slightly, taking a deep breath.
"Holy fucking shit." He murmured softly, and I noticed his eyes were wide. "What the fuck was that?"
"You didn't like it?" I asked, feeling hurt for a moment.
"No…I mean….yes….It was fucking awesome." Jimmy stuttered softly. "It's the best fucking kiss I've ever had. And it's your first. You're not supposed to kiss like that on the first time. It's fucking scary. I almost shot in my pants."
"That good eh?" I smirked now, the passion I'd been feeling cooling to a moderate forest fire. "I guess I should feel complimented considering how experienced you are."
"I've only kissed two people, Sammy and Jay." Jimmy said softly, still breathing hard. "I don't think either of them came close to this."
"You talk too much." I growled, covering his mouth again. The fire in me started growing again, and soon my mouth was exploring his face, his ears, his neck and he writhed beneath me in a way that only made me hotter. When I started nipping his chin softly, he groaned aloud, and his hand brushed against my face, gently trying to push my mouth away from his sensitive chin. It succeeded only in getting me to suck two of his fingers into my mouth. He groaned aloud again and that only caused me to grow even hotter. He tried to pull his hand away, but I grabbed his wrist and began to kiss my way across his palm. I teased his fingers some more and he moaned louder this time. I sucked his ring finger into my mouth again, suckling on it gently and he moaned louder, bucking against me. I shifted slightly, pushing down against him and he moaned again, but this time very low, and started bucking against me wildly. At that moment, that warm, tingly feeling that had flowed through me and seemingly into him surged even more, almost like it was twisting something inside him and I used my weight to keep his bucking body down and kept up the pressure on him, moving my tongue over his finger still in my mouth and let out a moan that was very low, and very long. His bucking almost became spasms, and they lasted for a while before they stopped. His eyes were rolled upwards, and his eyelids fluttered.
I noticed then that he had very light brown eyelashes and they were definitely very attractive.
I let him slowly remove his finger from my mouth as his gasping breathing slowly returned to normal. I knew I was grinning like made, and I felt something inside of me had awakened, and like the genie from the bottle I knew that it wouldn't be something I'd ever be able to stuff back inside.
Thoughts tried to intrude into that perfect moment about God, about dad and how he would react if he ever found out. I wasn't worried about Henry. I knew he'd understand, but dad? Those thoughts left on their own though, as Jimmy opened his eyes with a look that was both extremely satisfied and extremely horny.
"That…I never even thought…and you said you'd never done this before?" He gasped out quietly. I just smiled.
"No, I've never kissed, much less make a handsome guy cum in his pants." I said in a very low voice.
"Did you?" He asked and I smirked.
"Check for yourself." I said in a sultry, low voice. "You'll be the first to touch the President's son through his pants as well."
He did, feeling me still rock hard and he gasped. He got a grin on his face and tried to squeeze me gently, but I moved my arm inside his and pushed it away. He whimpered slightly, and tried to give me a seductive look.
"Kiss first, more later." I said, taking the control back and kissing him on the lips. He moaned again, and opened his mouth for my tongue immediately. I felt his pants twitching against me already, and grinned as my tongue invaded his mouth. I liked this. I liked this hell of a lot.
That was when there was a thump on the door. I looked up at the television and realized that I had just missed my dad's speech. There was that thump at the door again.
"Shit, I bet that's Sammy trying to say that someone's coming." Jimmy said in a scared tone. He tried to sit up, but my weight on him stopped him.
"Someone's already come in here." I said, lifting myself off of him and straightening a very rumpled uniform. I looked at his crotch closely and breathed a sigh of relief when I realized the thick material of the fatigue pants he wore wasn't showing a wet stain. I just hoped my briefs kept any of the pre-cum from showing. Jimmy was still sitting there, staring at me in astonishment.
"You're…you're different." He said slowly. Okay, he might not be as smart as me, or Henry, but he wasn't stupid either.
"You've woken a very bad Genie." I told him. "Now sit up and look like we're watching a woman, who I assume to be you mother, on television while we're getting to know each other."
He sat up, and I sat back down, satisfied my uniform looked okay. There was a decent space between us. He squirmed for a moment, rubbing his crotch with the heel of his hand.
"I'm all sticky." He complained softly just as there was a knock at the door. Before I could say anything, the door opened and Connors stuck his head inside.
"You ready to go yet, sir?" He asked me in a formal voice. "Your father wants you to be back in time for lunch."
"Yeah, we can get out of here." I said, rising to my feet and turning to face Jimmy. "It's been nice meeting you Jimmy. If you can ever get away, feel free to come by and say hi."
"Sure thing Dylan." Jimmy said, taking my hand as I rose to shake. He almost lost control when my finger rubbed his palm briefly. "I…uh…you're a cool guy."
"Later bud." I said with a smile for him alone. I turned around and saw Connors looking at me a little oddly. He walked beside me as we entered the corridor, and I saw 'Sammy' giving Jimmy a long, wistful look before falling into place. I successfully hid the smile that wanted to form on my lips, but I found it hard to walk without an extra bounce to my step.
"So, you've made a new friend?" Connors asked, and I could have sworn I heard someone behind me cough slightly.
"Yeah, you could say that." I said lightly. "Jimmy's a pretty interesting guy. I don't think I've ever met someone quite like him. I never knew what was going to pop from his mouth."
From behind me there was the sound of someone stumbling slightly.
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