New World Order - 4. Chapter 4: The Cell

We were awakened by a knock on the door. Captain Bob poked his head in. We were still tangled up with each other and could barely raise our heads to see who it was. “Sorry boys, we’re about an hour from Tom’s drop off point. You’re going to have to hustle to be ready. We only have a short time before sun up and I have to have this ship out of here as quickly as I can. Jack do you want to go along in the dinghy when they drop off Tom?”

Jack didn’t answer, he just took my hand in his. I leaned in to kiss him. “Yeah, I’m going,” he said at last.

Bob left. We got out of bed and then much as on the first day we were together, Jack helped me to clean up and get ready. His face was stern, holding any emotion deep inside. Tears occasionally escaped my eyes, but I continued on with the task at hand and got quickly ready.

Before leaving the room, I held Jack to my chest with all my force and again kissed him. “Now none of that, you know what happened last night when you kissed me,” Jack teased.

He took me by the hand and led me out of the room and up on deck. Once on deck we could make out the dim outline of a flat shoreline, shrouded in fog. All my equipment was stacked by the embarkation station. A small, inflated dinghy hung in the davits. We loaded the gear, and got in with two of the crewmen. We were lowered to surface and the crewmen took oars and immediately propelled the boat to shore. Their motions were cautious and practiced, making barely any noise.

We reached the shore, a deserted beach lined with palms. Jack helped me get the gear ashore. He took me into his arms and said softly in my ear, “Share your love.” I held him tightly, beyond words, beyond tears. He kissed me quickly, turned and got into the boat. In only a minute it had disappeared into the mist.

I was alone on the beach, staring out to sea, wondering what would happen next. I heard the faint rumble of the ship’s engines as my home of the past few months, the place I had trained for my mission, the room where I had known Jack moved away.

While I heard no distinct sound, I felt something in my gut, and in one motion grabbed my rifle, dove and rolled behind a fallen palm. Peering above I not so much saw as felt a presence. Suddenly, a man stood up, just where I was looking. He called softly, “Mr. Tom?” and motioned for me to join him. As I stood, two other men came from the undergrowth and picked up my gear. “Come,” said the first man. I followed him away from the beach into a thickening jungle. We walked for some time in silence. Once we had crossed a small stream, I could see my guide’s shoulders relax. The men carrying my gear began a quiet conversation. It was in a language I couldn’t understand, but I could tell they were talking about me. The guide didn’t join the conversation, but occasionally chuckled at things that were being said.

After another hour’s walk we entered a clearing. It was clearly a rough camp. A dozen or so men were going about the tasks of cleaning and repairing weapons and other equipment. On a campstool, apart from the others was a small woman, reading a map. As I came into the clearing, the woman looked up. Her eyes raked over me, then with a stamp of disgust, she threw down the map. “Sonofabitch. I ask for some help and they send me a fucking gorilla.”

I was dumbstruck. There was no doubt that she was talking about me. She strode across the clearing toward me. Almost standing on my toes, she looked up at me, and in my face spat out, “Sonofabitch. It’s too late to send you back. What the fuck were they thinking?”

“Excuse me,” I said taking a step back. “I am to report to a Captain Marjorie and assist in reconnaissance and escorts. I’ve had a lot of training and some experience. I don’t have a clue what the problem is here.”

“Well honey, I’m Marjorie, so you’re in the right place. But you’re clearly the wrong guy.”

Even before I could restate my credentials, Marjorie said, “Look around you, Mountain Boy.” As we had been talking the entire unit had assembled in a group around us. All the men and Marjorie were Asian and about the same height. I stood in their midst, a pale, albeit tanned, Caucasian, head and shoulders above the crowd, weighing easily 50 percent more.

Marjorie turned and walked back to her stool muttering, “How the hell do I run a covert operation, maintain invisibility with that hulking, muscle-bound giant? Well you’ve got to use what they give you, dammit.” The diatribe died out in time. I stood, unsure what to do next.

The men of the unit cautiously approached me. They reached out their hands to touch me, all talking the unknown language among themselves. A man on each side placed their hands on my biceps. Others touched my chest and back. I felt like some kind of exhibit.

Marjorie hawked and spat. “You may as well drop your pants. Lord knows nothing is going to happen around here until you do.”

From among the sea of touching hands, I called out, “What on earth do you mean?”

“Drop your pants means drop your pants. They all want to know if your cock is a giant-sized as the rest of you. Do me a favor, drop ‘em and burst their bubble will you?”

I pushed my way clear and approached Marjorie. “I know you’re in charge, but what the hell is this?”

“Look, in case you haven’t noticed, I’m the only woman around here – these guys are all interested in you, as you know, new meat.” She laughed openly at my discomfort. The crowd of men moved in a group again surrounding me. One stepped up in front of me and began unbuckling my pants. I pushed him back. “You might as well get it over with, you ox,” Marjorie taunted.

“All right, damn it.” I angrily unbuckled by belt, opened my pants and shoved them to my knees. All hell broke loose as the group of men howled, laughed, and chattered. One of the men feigned fainting, dropping at my feet.

Marjorie got up off her stool to look past the men at me. “Shit. I don’t know how you compare back home, but around here, that thing of yours is going to be a conversation piece.” The men again closed around me, running their hands in the hair of my legs, squeezing my ass. I stumbled forward, pulling up my pants.

“What is all this? And you, how did you learn to speak English so well, if profanely?”

Marjorie held out her hand, waiting for me to fasten my belt, then shook my own. “I’m from LA, got assigned here about two years ago. I’m kind of following my lover who came a few months before. Haven’t found her yet. And watch what you say. These guys all speak English, too – when it’s convenient. They’re a loyal enough group, just a little independent in their actions. They’re local boys, for the most part, have family near by, as much defending their homes as working for the cause. We’re going to have to move our camp before nightfall. Hope you’re up for a hike.”

At Marjorie’s signal, the men spread out to separate tasks, quickly packing up the camp, putting in packs and lining up. The man who had guided me again took the lead. Marjorie placed me in the middle of the unit, walking toward the front of the line, muttering loud enough for me to hear, “Goddam, if he isn’t the hulkingest monster? How am I going to hide him? Hell, how am I going to feed him? I sure hope he’s gay, ‘cause I’m not going riding on that moose cock, not that I want cock anyway. Goddamn, Goddamn.”

***

So I was part of the unit, even if unsure what part I would play, or what I’d do about Marjorie. I walked along in the line, ducking under low hanging branches the others easily cleared. I began to wonder if the route was chosen specifically to give me trouble. At length we arrived at another clearing, a few huts to one side. Everyone seemed to recognize the place and went to their tasks of setting up.

I had no tasks, so sat on a log, taking off my shirt in the extreme heat. Almost immediately, the men dropped their tasks and again stood around me. The same bold man reached out his hand and tugged at my chest hair.

Marjorie approached, “Well, Mr. Prime Beef, you’ve got no end of admirers.” Several of the men talked to Marjorie at once, shyly looking at me. “They want to know which of them you want for your boy.”

I stammered, “I don’t want, I don’t know, I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“Whatever did you think I meant?” she said with a wink. “It’s a custom for every officer to have someone help with laundry, keeping gear straight, you know, what ever needs doing.”

“Can we just play it by ear?” I asked, not wishing to offend anyone nor really sure what to do. The camp was quickly setup, a meal prepared and served, and preparations made for bed. I was assigned one of the huts at the edge of the clearing. On entering, I found all my gear neatly arranged and a bed prepared. The sun was already below the trees, the camp darkening. With no other assignments, my thought was to get rested for whatever the next day would bring. I heard Marjorie walking through the camp, setting a guard and checking security, all the while muttering in English and the local language, guessing by her tone that I was the object of her comments.

I was just beginning to drowse when I felt a presence in the hut. Before I could react, I felt someone slide into the bedding beside me. A moment later, I could tell it was a man by the small hardness pressed against my leg. As I began to speak, the man hushed me, saying, “Please no talk. Let me stay with you. You’ll be happy.” I felt his hands reach into the opening in my boxers, the only clothing I wore in the hot night. Despite my alarm and confusion, my cock grew in this man’s small hands. Even as I brushed his hands away, my cock was already hard, slapping solidly on my stomach.

“Don’t send me away. It’s my job to take care of you. I will be shamed if you send me away.” His voice quavered, he was near tears.

I grabbed my flash light and shown it on his face. He was one of the men of the unit, I did recognize him. He smiled anxiously though blinded by my light.

“I told Marjorie that I didn’t want a ‘boy’,” I explained softly. His lower lip trembled.

“Every officer has a boy. You’ll like it. I promise.”

How could I convince him that this kind of treatment didn’t seem appropriate to me. I didn’t want to demean him nor cause him shame. He was clearly upset, not exactly fearful, but anxious about something. I asked him his name.

“I am called Kwan. If I do not please you, you can select another boy tomorrow, but you are my duty tonight. Please, do not send me away.”

“How did you get this duty? Did Marjorie send you?” I asked.

“No. Miss Marjorie is much too angry. I think she misses her friend. She lets us take care of camp things, anyway. We play bones – small squares with dots – you know. I won,” he declared proudly. “Not every man wanted to do this duty, but I wanted to.” As he talked I could feel his hand lightly touching my leg, then begin to stroke it, pausing to tug at the hair. “You are very hairy. It is so pretty.” He snuggled closer, his hand moving up my body, carefully avoiding my cock, running up my stomach and resting on my chest, fingers entwined in my chest hair.

I snapped off the light, confused about what to do next. I didn’t want to offend this man or make a cultural error, but it didn’t seem right to be assigned a ‘boy’. He said he wasn’t forced into this, and judging by the small hard cock pressing into my leg, he seemed to be happy to be with me.

“OK, I don’t know what to do, so I guess I’ll do nothing, not tonight. We can sort this out tomorrow.” Before I could finish, Kwan pushed up and kissed me on the lips. When I didn’t protest – I wasn’t sure what to do – he swung his leg over my body and lay fully on me, his head on my chest. He reached down and pulled my cock up, letting it fall heavily against his ass, stroking my cock with his hand. As he stroked, my cock swelled and hardened. The smallness of his hands gave me a strange pleasure. He was very attuned to touching, that raised my hunger. His hand ranged down to lift my balls, distended in the heat. He made a soft noise of pleasure as he tried to fit them in his hand. My cock pressed against his back.

As his hand returned to my cock, carefully stroking from base to head, he paused. He sat up and turned to face my cock, measuring it now with both hands. He turned back to face me, dropping to my chest and whimpering. “I cannot, I will not be able to make you happy.” I didn’t know if he was being coy and flattering or truly afraid. I certainly wouldn’t dream of hurting anyone. I placed my hand on his head, stroking it to calm him.

“Just sleep tonight. We’ll straighten things out tomorrow.” He slid off my chest and snuggled in my armpit, breathing deeply. I was still very unsure what was going on or what to do about it, so resolved to go to sleep, even with a stranger in my bed.

I awoke to the sound of soft voices. The dawn was casting early light, filtered by the surrounding jungle. I could see Kwan’s back as he crouched in the doorway of the hut, talking to a group of men outside. By his gestures, I could tell he was talking about me. The group urged him to tell more, it seemed to me they were pressing for details. Kwan looked over his shoulder and saw me looking at him. Even in the half-light and despite his dark coloring, I could see him blush. He shooed the men away with a wave and all but leapt to my side.

“Mr. Tom is awake. I will get food. I will shave. I will wash.” Almost as if by magic, a tray of food and a bowl of steaming water were thrust through the door of the hut. Kwan set up a campstool and table and lay the breakfast on it, gesturing for me to sit. He began sharpening a straight razor on a strop and raised some lather in a bowl. Camp life was not at all primitive.

“What the hell,” I said as I followed his directions, sitting down to eat as he finished preparations to shave me. When I had eaten, I reached for a cloth to wash my face. Kwan snatched it from my hand, and with great gentleness washed my face and neck. He lathered my face and reached for the razor. Here was a test of faith – for me. Sensing my concern, he simply kissed my shoulder, lingering over the kiss. He then took the razor and with greatest care shaved me, perhaps the best shave of my life, in the midst of a jungle.

As he finished shaving my face, a fresh bowl of hot water appeared. He gestured for me to stand. He dropped my boxers and took a step back, pretending shock over my cock, laughing with some delight. He took a cloth and washed my back and chest, tugging the hair in my armpits, muttering, “so hairy, so nice.” He washed my butt and legs, taking special care over my feet and toes. “Ooh, hairy toes.”

Then he knelt in front of me, raising his hands and began soaping my balls and cock. My cock remembered his touch from the night before and began to swell. I heard a giggle at my side and turned to see four faces in the small window of the hut. Apparently my bath was a featured entertainment. The four faces looked up at my face when I cleared my throat, then dropped from view. Kwan laughed with embarrassment, but continued to lather my cock and balls. My cock was extremely hard and standing straight out, Kwan’s touch was lovely. He washed away the soap, making sure none remained on my legs or feet.

At that moment, Marjorie stepped into the doorway. “Well I see you’re ready. No need to salute, Tarzan.” My erection lolled. “Why don’t you get dressed and meet me in my hut. We can go over the day’s plans. Looks like you’ve had quite a night.” She turned, laughing, and left. Kwan, looked at me sheepishly. He then bowed, gave my cockhead a kiss, and fled.

I dressed and with pained embarrassment, joined Marjorie in her hut. She chuckled to herself, enjoying my discomfort. “I hadn’t heard Kwan won the lottery. Lucky boy.” I began to protest, she held up her hand to silence me, indicating she was unconcerned with the issue. I was frustrated at not being able to explain, fearing that I had gaffed yet again. Some great start.

Marjorie jumped right into a review of the day’s mission, a meeting with some underground agents who were to deliver some critical data on the opposition’s security measures. The meeting point would require a few hours hike and Marjorie was eager to begin. We were to go with only three of the men.

I went back to my hut to get some equipment for the mission. Kwan was there tidying things up. “Be careful, Mr. Tom. Come back. I’ll be here.” His expression was as much as anything like that of my late wife. I was touched, feeling somewhat surreal, but touched.

Marjorie led off into the jungle. I made careful note of the surroundings, trying to get my bearings by using all the woodcraft I had learned as a boy and all the training I had received on the ship. We crossed the distance to the meeting point with no incident. On arriving and giving the agreed upon signal, the agents emerged from the trees with a small package. They tossed this to Marjorie and disappeared.

No sooner had Marjorie placed the package into her backpack, then the air exploded around us. I was thrown to the ground. When the smoke cleared, I saw Marjorie and one of the men lying unconscious on the ground. A shrill whistle, followed by another explosion near by made it clear we were under attack. I crawled over to Marjorie and touched her neck, looking for a pulse. Happily she was alive. The man next to her groaned. I tossed the backpack to one of the unharmed men, crouching nearby, then picked up Marjorie and the other man, one on each shoulder and started at a fair run to get clear of the area.

The shelling continued but did not track us as we fled. I half ran, carrying the two limp forms, wanting a fair distance between us and the meeting point. After about ten minutes, I felt Marjorie’s body stiffen, then her fists pounding on my back. “Put me down, you lummox. I’m fine.”

“Lummox?” As I lay her and the man gently down, I questioned, “Lummox? Surely you can do better than that. It seems that the man-giant is good for something after all. And you aren’t fine, you’re probably concussed, but you will probably live.”

“Where the fuck are we? What the hell happened, anyway?” Marjorie swore.

“We’re on the way back to the camp. I think we should send the two intact guys back for some help. Somebody dropped a shell on us. Looks like they knew exactly where we were meeting those guys. If they hadn’t thrown the package to you, it might have been a direct hit.”

The two other men talked at once, making many gestures toward me. It seems they couldn’t believe I carried Marjorie and their comrade through the jungle.

Marjorie barked, “You heard him, go get back to camp and come back with the medic and somebody to carry Kim.” She pointed at the other injured man. Off they ran, more afraid of Marjorie than the shelling.

Marjorie started to rise, but fell heavily to the ground. I hoped my guess concerning her injuries wasn’t too optimistic. Kim sat up. I checked his eyes, they focused. His expression indicated that his head had cleared and he was able to stand.

My ears perked to a change in the jungle noises around us. I could see Kim become alert as well, confirming my feeling that someone was approaching us. With a nod to Kim, I scooped up Marjorie into my arms and led Kim down the trail as quietly and quickly as possible. Marjorie struggled for awareness but did not seem to comprehend what was happening.

After a while of running, I stopped to listen. I didn’t hear anything to raise my suspicions, but decided to keep moving. Now at a walking pace, I was more aware of Marjorie in my arms. She nuzzled into my chest like a child, her face relaxed. I had not seen her expression so vulnerable before, she looked another woman.

Somehow she must have sensed my observation. She suddenly struggled in my arms. I hung on to her and kept walking. “Jesus, you smell like a horse. Do you have to shove my face into your armpit, Christ. And could you relax the bicep, it feels like my head is hitting a rock.” Ahh, Marjorie, you must be feeling better.