The Bridge Ch 15 2 Peace No More

The Bridge -- Chapter Fifteen pt 2. --Peace No More

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. This work is copy written by the author. All sexually active characters are eighteen years of age or older.

This work will, at times, contain instances of pregnancy, interracial sex, lesbianism, romance and affection. There is also threats of Non-consensual sex, violence, intrigue, some Dominance and submission, and a fair amount of heroism and family love and fun.

This chapter, given its contents is in the Interracial Love category, This overall story has been in the NonConsent/Reluctance category, the Romance category, the Lesbian Sex and Interracial categories will probably continue to move around if it progresses. Which it will do if enough people like it. There is enough sex in this chapter without going overboard, At times, there will be more orgasms, and some pretty rough sex.

Peace No More

I was in a bit of a fog when Celeste and Georgia disturbed our peace. It was a bit after seven, which is practically sleeping in for us these days. Oddly enough, as soon as Celeste woke Holly, they were putting Celeste together. This was the first time since her assault that Holly, independently and without prompting, got out of bed and helped. I immediately dragged Georgia into her room to get her dressed. When we finished and stopped by Celeste's room, she was sitting at her little vanity and Holly was brushing her hair and putting it up in a ponytail. And doing a fine job of it.

The four of us, Holly needing no assistance and appearing to be very much in control, headed downstairs where Georgie was eating his oatmeal and OJ, along with Lizzie. When we four gals sat back on the high tops at the kitchen island table, Duane came walking in from the living room with Ronnie. They each had a coffee in hand and were discussing the state of the property and its people. And they were discussing what they just saw on TV, as Ronnie was pointing back at the television as they walked into the kitchen. I looked over at Duane, and he gave me a big wink.

At nine-thirty, Herman and Caroline collected the kids and off to the Untermyers they went, to play with neighbor kids and do some swimming. I rushed back inside to confront Duane.

"What was going on in the living room with you and Ronnie?"

"We were just watching some early news. They had a report on the goings on in Chester last night."

"Anything I should know?"

"Nothing you don't know, and a whole lot they don't know that you do."

"Whatever happened to Arnold Polansky?"

"Let's just say he, along with the drugs, disappeared from the scene. Only one brick of the cocaine was left behind, broken into, and spread all over the ground. I think that was the brick they used to sample the drugs. I expect old Arnold dropped it when the shooting started and he hit the deck."

"And where is Polansky?"

"I expect in time his location will be revealed. In time, all will be revealed. Please trust me."

"As always, with my life."

"Holly," Duane said, "It's wonderful to see you up and about."

She said nothing, but she did smile at him as she poured herself a cup of coffee, as Bertha looked on in surprise with eyes wide open.

"You just take your time, Holly. We're all here to help when you are ready."

Again, she looked at him and smiled. Lizzie and I looked at each other in wonderment. But we both smiled. As we all chatted, Holly sat around, apparently listening, but she did not contribute to the conversation, other than as its subject. But she nodded and smiled and frowned at the appropriate times and gave us all hope that she was coming back to us.

As we were talking, I gently grabbed Holly's arm and pulled it toward me and whispered, "Holly, Duane and I have a mission tonight, so a little after the kids get home, we will be leaving for Philly. Is that okay? We should be home by midnight." She dipped her head down and gave me a sad look. But she nodded her head in the affirmative and the conversation moved on.

I poured myself a second cup of coffee, and Duane called us to come into the living room. The morning news was just starting, as usual, with today's weather and then jumping to today's bleeder. We were tuned to the local NBC affiliate when the report came on to catch up the curious about what the hell happened up in Chester last night. They went right to the on-site reporter, who was talking about the bloody scene and how many bodies had been carted off last night, and the one set of remains, which is still unidentified, that differed from the rest.

Bertha and Aggie were holding Holly back in the kitchen as she ate her breakfast. We didn't want her to see the news reports yet. I wanted to filter that news to her in a way that would not send her over the edge. There was not much to report that we didn't know, but they announced that there would be a news conference at noon, given by the Chester Police Department and various governmental agencies. You know, the ones with all the alphabets.

Lizzie and I tried to encourage Holly to come running with us, but in her way, she begged off. She just wanted to sit in the playroom and watch out the window. I expect, waiting for the kids to come home. Aggie sat with her, while Bertha worked her magic in the kitchen, producing a fine lunch for those of us at the house now and a dinner for all later.

With Holly taken care of, Lizzie, Duane, and I talked to Bertha about our plan for a party on Saturday. She said it would be no trouble and that we would make it a fun affair. The first thing she did was get on the phone and order a keg and three cases of Ram's Head Ale; then she called Chadd's Ford Winery and ordered three more cases of wine. In her kitchen she still had that big old hunk of top round for chip steak and ground beef, and figured she could grill cheese steaks, and burgers. She also has an order coming in today for Hot Dogs from a local guy who makes his own, so she called and tripled the order, insisting it be here by ten tomorrow morning.

Duane and I went up to the office for a little while, as Lizzie and Bertha were working on the details for tomorrow. We immediately snuck into the video conference room and pawed at each other like a couple of playful monkeys. When we came downstairs to view the news conference, Lizzie looked at me with my puckered lips and shook her head. "Duane, can you ever leave this girl alone?"

"No," was all he said.

At Noon, we were all huddled in the living room, except Holly and Aggie. Holly had expressed how tired she was, so Aggie took her up to bed and sat with her. No surprise. But when the news conference came on, we got a bit of a shock of our own. The mayor of Chester came first to report on what he believed took place here last night. Well, he got some of it right. Then they introduced the Police Commissioner who calmed everyone down by saying this was an isolated incident and that every investigative path was being taken to assure it does not happen again. Yeah, right.

Then they started naming off the alphabet agencies and their representatives stepped forward and gave their short speeches. It all seemed kind of boilerplate until the representative from the FBI stepped up to the mic. As he approached the microphone, all our eyes focused on him. He was somehow different from the rest. I looked at the man at the microphone and I looked over at Duane, and I swear that had he not been standing there right beside me, I would have sworn it was him on the television.

"My name is Special Agent Davante Royce of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. We are taking the lead on this case, as we believe it has national implications. Millions in drugs will never make it to the streets because of what happened last night." And he walked away from the mic and back into line.

"Alright, Duane,"I asked. "What the fuck is that all about?"

"Sorry, ma'am, I don't know what you are talking about."

"Tell us all about Davante Royce. Same face, same last name. You're amongst friends, Duane. Give it up."

"There's nothing to give up. The question answers itself when you just look at the screen."

"Figuring out who he is isn't the problem. It's what he had to do with our operation that's got me itchy."

"Well, let me scratch that itch for you."

"Mmmmmmm. Scratch away, big boy."

"Keep it in your pants there, Hannah. You know I have a brother who is my twin and happens to be an FBI agent. What I haven't made public and prefer to keep it that way outside this room is that Vante gave our little operation a little nudge."

"And what is a little nudge?"

"Well, we talk every month or two. We haven't seen each other in three years, when dad died, but talking regularly helps. We both have pretty busy lives. But some of that shit is coming to a head, Hannah, and I want to talk to you about it."

"Oh, they'll be time for that conversation. What I want to know now is what the FBI has to do with this operation?"

"You could say that they sponsored it."

"And what does that mean? I thought I sponsored it."

"Well, they supplied the drugs and made the connection through Arnold Polansky."

"I'd say that's a pretty substantial contribution. Why am I only now learning this?"

"When I went to Vante with my plan, he wanted my commitment that I would not share the source of the drugs or the contact with Polansky if he helped me." He paused and looked down and away from me. When he lifted his head, he had a half-smile on his face.

"He said that you were the only exception, Hannah. He said that I should tell you. But not until after the operation was over. I would say it's over. There's only one more thing we're waiting for."

"And what's that?"

"The announcement of Peace Dunbar's death. My brother is aware of it, but is keeping it to himself. The rest of them are waiting for DNA results to identify the oozing hulk of human stew we left behind. What you left behind."

As he said that he was looking right at me. All I could do was stand there, shrug my shoulders, and shake my head. Lizzie sat on the hearth, under the TV, stunned. She still hadn't seen the video of the battle, but the more we talked, the more she took in. I think the more she heard, the less she wanted to see that video.

"Liz, I think if you want to deal with any of this at all, you should take it in small doses. All at once, it could put you on your ass."

"I'm already on my ass, Hannah. That thing the press keeps trying to describe is Peace Dunbar?"

"It is, Liz."

"And you..."

"Yes, I did. But do me a favor and don't spread it around."

"You, you, y..."

"Yes, Lizzie. I had the boys dump a gallon of gasoline on him and I lit him up with a flare gun. Boy, was that a sight."

Lizzie, the gal who has something to say about everything, was speechless. Her mouth was open, but nothing came out. "See that, Liz. That's just the way I want you. Keep your mouth as open as you want as long as nothin' comes out." She sat there nodding her head, seeming endlessly.

Duane was getting a little antsy regarding Lizzie's apparent step off the deep end. "Lizzie, you're in this meeting for a reason. You are and have been part of the team. Not everyone has a combat role, although it pleases me you are prepared for one. But what everyone on this team has that nobody else does is the need to know. When we talk about the mission, and for that matter all things Peace Dunbar, it is only between us and the members of the team, those who have the need to know. Does anyone here not know all the members of the team?"

Lizzie looked at Duane quizzically. "I think I know all the members, but..."

"Don't worry about it, Miss Lizzie," Duane said. "You'll see them all today. Till then I wouldn't discuss any of this outside us four."

"Four? There's only three of us."

"Oh," I said, "And you think that something happens in this house that Bertha doesn't know about? Who are you kiddin'?"

"You watch yo mouth there, missy," came calling out from the kitchen. The woman has eyes and ears everywhere. God bless her and thank God for her. Another one I trust with my life. With my children's lives. She already saved them once.

Well, we all got a good laugh out of our little eye in the sky, Bertha, watching down over us; seeing everything we see, knowing everything we know. Well, the news conference was over, and I asked Lizzie if she would check on Holly and help Bertha if she needed, and Duane and I were going to the office to do some work. "You know, work." When I said that, I got laughs all around. "Where's the loyalty people? Where's the love?"

Well, I say fuck 'em. Duane and I went up to the office and dithered around at my desk for five minutes, then dragged each other into the video conference room and ravaged each other for about half an hour. Did we have sex? Oh yeah. Was it conventional? Not so much. Did it feel good? Oh. So. Good! Am I ready for more? You betcha.

Once we'd had our fill, we ran downstairs and grabbed a couple of beers to try to hide the cum and pussy smell that was coming off our faces. Today, I needed a little more than soap and toothpaste. We would tell everyone, as we swigged our beers, we were just tuning up for our night out tonight. Night out.

"Call Linnie."

"Hannah, is everything okay? I hope you're not blowing tonight off; I'm so looking forward to seeing you."

"Au contraire, my dear, just calling to hear what you're wearing. It's hard to get a read with Parc. It's easy to overdress. I've got this black bodycon minidress that I deserve to fit into. If I'm gonna go downtown and I'm not pregnant and looking as good as I do after running thousands of miles, I'm going with that."

"Ooooh, sounds sexy. And Duane?"

"Oh, boring old Duane will probably just wear one of his many black or blue suits. With a tie, of course."

"Boring? Duane? Who are you kidding? Do you ever watch other women when he walks into a room? I could almost smell the pussy churning."

"Linnie Lawrence, that is so unlike you to say."

"I think I've spent too much time stuck at home. I need a release. More than anything, Larry and I need a vacation. Away. Together alone. I need some time when I have him all to myself. A law practice can be a cruel mistress, Hannah. I've seen lesser men chewed up and spit out of this system. But my man is sound, and he endures. And right now, I need my piece of him, if only for a little while. Or else maybe I'll come out to Chester County and defect to the dykes."

"Linnie, when did you get so bad? Before you tell me what you're wearing, I'm gonna ask you if Mr. Dunbar tries to cancel tonight's dinner don't let it happen. Tell him you will take the reservation over and will attend ourselves."

"Why would he do that, Hannah? What is with the mystery? Talk to me, Han."

"I will. Tonight, at dinner. All will be revealed. You haven't spoken to him, have you?"

"N-no. Should I have?"

"Absolutely not. It wouldn't be protocol. The date is established, the place is reserved, and it is expected that the parties will show. I'm in if you are?"

"For sure. It's been too long since we got together. The summer I think."

"It all goes by so fast. Who could remember? See you tonight at eight at Parc. I'm thrilled."

"Me too. See you then, and I'm bringing a trove of new baby pictures."

"I'm all eyes, Linnie. Speaking of which, what are you wearing?"

"An old lard bucket like me, Hannah. I should just drape a sheet over myself. I still have so much baby weight from Monique to lose. And..."

"And what?"

"Nothing. Anything else we can save for tonight. Go Hannah, I have lots to do before then. Love you."

"Love you back."

I couldn't remember the last time I saw that dress. As much as I loved it, I couldn't think for the life of me where I'd put it. I made a mad dash upstairs and into my room, where Lizzie and Aggie and Holly were sitting around passing a vape pen between them. It appeared they'd been doing it for a while. I just laughed, and being the potheads they were being, they laughed with me. Duane heard these goings on from the office and came in to make sure a bottle of laughing gas hadn't exploded in the bedroom. Then the nicest thing happened.

I was standing there in the bedroom, next to the bed, where Holly was sitting. When Lizzy passed her the pen, without taking a hit, she passed it straight to me. She gave me a good poke in the ribs with it till I took it and took a hit. And she smiled. Then she grabbed it away from me and took her own hit. She's coming back. Little by little, our Holly is on her way.

Duane gave himself the day and night off and assigned Ronnie to drive us and oversee our security downtown. Ron's our best driver and knows Philly like the back of his hand. He worked for a high security chauffer service in Philly for two years and he was everywhere in and around that town. He grew up in Chester, but spent half of his adult life working in Philly and has been in his share of shoot outs and rescues. Oh, and did I remember those five meritorious years with the Secret Service and the six years as an Army Ranger? Yeah, Ronnie will do just fine.

I finally found that outfit matched with some black lingerie, black hose and some four-inch heels, black of course. I hung it all up where I could admire how good I'm gonna look in it and then I kicked everybody out and ran a hot tub. But not before taking a couple of hits on that vape pen. Neither Duane nor I are driving, so we can be as carefree as we wish. And don't think I won't. But I have to be careful. I don't want to be too stoned and I don't want to be too sloppy when we see the Lawrences. I want it to be a joyous meeting, at least until I have to drop the hammer.

I laid back in that hot tub and let the jets run all over me. It feels soooo good. I tried to use this time to collect my thoughts and prepare for my talk with Linnie and Larry. In cases like this, Holly would make a list. I would just tell a story. I laid back and started to tell the story in my mind when... 'tap, tap, tap' "Who is it?"

"It's me, Hannah. Those bad girls are downstairs being silly. I gotta try to get them right before the kids get home." And Bertha put a plate with small sandwiches and a glass of her totally amazing limeade on the side of the hot tub. There's a greenhouse farm in Leola, out in Lancaster County, where they grow nothing but citrus fruits. Lemons, limes, grapefruits, several kinds of oranges and tangerines, and other exotic fruits. Some grown by special order. Bertha always makes sure she gets her share of limes when they are in.

"Thank you, Bertha. At least there is always at least one adult in the room when you are around." She was laughing when she left the room, but she was laughing at the truth.

Well, dinner is at eight, it's still plenty early. The kids won't be home for another two hours, but my manicurist and hairdresser are due in half an hour. I jumped out of the tub, threw my hair up in a towel, dried myself off and threw on my sky blue French terry romper and my big fluffy white robe. I went downstairs and Bertha was trying to herd the three misbehaving women. With little success, I might add.

"Lizzie and Aggie," I said. "You two go take a nap. The kids will be home in two hours, and I want you two right by then." Giggling, they ran upstairs and, I presume, jumped into bed; not together, however.

"Holly, you are with me. I am getting hair and nails done tomorrow and I think it would be a good time for you to get a nice mani/pedi. I think it will brighten your day."

She smiled at that and put herself in my hands to get her cleaned up and dressed. Holly and I have matching rompers, mine in blue and hers in pink, so I dressed her in that. She looked adorable, and it looked like her fixed, glum expression was fading. Was I detecting moments of joy interspersed between those long silences? It sure felt that way.