The Warren Files 01: Jim and Donna

The Warren Files 01: Jim and Donna

The following was inspired by Castlemania's 2016 four-part series, "What the...?" in which the husband was cuckolded by a wife who had sex with co-workers who threatened to extort him if he rocked the boat. The initial premise remains the same, but the characters have been changed.

This story is a spin-off of my "Revenge in Advance: A Sequel" series, made up of "Revenge in Advance, A Sequel," in which Oscar escapes his wife's plot and gets his own revenge, followed up by "Revenge in Advance, Derby's Dose," a tale of what happened when one wife's revenge went too far, "Revenge in Advance: Pat," in which Oscar arrests and confronts the woman who started his odyssey and continued with "Revenge in Advance: Mona," in which the Task Force finally takes down the top conspirators.

The final story in that series is "Revenge in Advance: The Briefing," in which Oscar and the Task Force stop a plot against the president.

The last two stories alluded to memoirs written by Oscar about his service in the Task Force.

This is the first story in those memoirs, and is written from his perspective and in his voice.

Chronologically, the events of this story take place somewhere between "Derby's Dose" and "Pat," however, the story (as presented by Oscar) was written after his retirement from the Force.

Many thanks to edrider73 for giving me permission to write this sequel and any others that may come from his original story, "Revenge in Advance."

I would also suggest reading Colinthedog's story, "Retreat," in which Oscar plays a role.

And finally, many thanks to those who offered comments and constructive criticism on my previous stories.

For those who want to say this or that would never happen, remember this is my universe, a place where nearly anything can, and often does, happen.

At least on paper...

Please refer to my profile for more on my personal policy regarding comments, feedback, follows, etc.

And please remember, this is a work of fiction, not a docu-drama...

Prologue:

My name is Oscar Warren. I served with the HomeFront Security Task Force for 35 years, and retired after serving as the organization's first Cabinet-level officer in the White House. My personal story has already been told by other authors -- at great risk to themselves, I might add -- so I won't rehash that here. Simply put, I was once a normal American husband who loved my wife and was targeted by a vicious organization that irrevocably changed my marriage and ultimately, my life.

From that point on, I worked as a federal officer for the task force, working with Bill Jackson, my friend, mentor and later, my father-in-law. Our battle against the entity known as MMAS was eventually won, but the ideology that drove it and others like it continues to this day, and in all likelihood, will continue long after I am gone.

Over the years I have been personally involved with hundreds of what we call "interventions." In the beginning, a "successful" intervention was one in which (a) the bad guys were caught; (b) the targeted husband was spared bodily harm, and; (c) the marriage was restored. In short, the officers of the Task Force were a combination of enforcers and marriage counselors.

But as the methods used by the forces arrayed against us evolved, so, too, did the metrics by which we measured success. By the time I retired, a successful intervention was one in which (a) the bad guys were caught, and; (b) the husband was spared death or serious bodily harm.

Over the years I have personally witnessed many vile acts of degradation and humiliation, all in the name of sex and control. I have seen many good men die and many more become vegetables, retreating to the quiet recesses of their destroyed minds. It is only by the grace of God, and the love and support of my friends and family, that I have not ended my own life. One simply cannot witness what I have for so long and not be affected.

And so it is that, under the advise of my counselor, I present my memoirs -- my recollections, if you will -- of just some of the many interventions where I have been personally involved. I have done my bit for humanity and now it is up to humanity to either get its act together or go into that quiet night.

The following story has been culled from my own recollection, case files and notes. Where applicable, the names of the innocent have been changed. All the information presented here has been cleared for release by appropriate authorities.

HFSTF Case File #A01992754, Winters, Jim and Donna:

I walked into the office of my good friend, boss and mentor, Bill Jackson, wondering why he had sounded so urgent on the phone. As I entered, he motioned me to take a seat in front of his large wooden desk and handed me a folder emblazoned with the official Task Force seal.

I opened the folder and did a quick scan of the executive summary. I looked at Bill, somewhat confused.

"I don't see any mention of MMAS in this case," I said. "Do we have jurisdiction on this?"

"That's because MMAS isn't involved in this one, at least not so far as I know," he said, handing me a cup of coffee. "There may be some involvement, but not from what I was able to gather from Mr. Winters. I'll leave it up to you to figure that out. Besides, you do know that our mandate neither starts nor ends with MMAS, right?"

"Of course," I said. MMAS was our top priority and the initial reason for the formation of the Task Force. Still, I had questions. "Why doesn't Mr. Winters simply go to the local authorities?" I asked after taking a sip of coffee.

"Frankly, he doesn't know who he can trust," Bill said. "Personally, I don't blame him. If this isn't handled properly, he could find himself in prison for a very long time. By the time local LEOs figure it all out, he'll be eligible for Social Security, assuming he lives that long behind bars.

"Another advantage is that we're not as well-known as the local authorities, and we have federal strings they don't have. That gives us a leg up over everyone else." Bill set his coffee down and looked at me before speaking.

"This one is also a bit personal for me, Oscar," he said. "I've known Mr. Winters for a while now, and he's not one to make things up. I'm concerned for his safety and his mental well-being and I need my best man on this. Of course, you'll have all of the Task Force's assets at your disposal," he added. "Can I count on you?"

"Of course, boss, you know you can," I said. I left the office and drove to a nearby IHOP, where I ordered a stack of pancakes -- with peanut butter, of course -- and coffee. As I ate, I looked through the file:

Husband: Jim Winters, age 35, occupation: lawyer, employer: Law Firm of Dilbert and Greese

Wife: Deborah Winters (Donna), age 32, occupation: homemaker

Children: None

Suspect(s):

(1) Kevin Parker, age 39, occupation: lawyer, senior partner with Dilbert and Greese

(2) Brad Jenkins, age 36, occupation: lawyer, senior partner with Dilbert and Greese

(3) Peter Hurley, age 36, occupation: lawyer, senior partner with Dilbert and Greese

According to the synopsis in the file, husband (Jim) has been threatened with extortion, possibly drugged against his will, assaulted numerous times by suspects and others, including his wife (Donna), unlawfully restrained and forced to watch wife engage in sex acts with as many as 50 males, including the corporate mail boy. Almost all of the sexual activity has taken place either at husband's place of employment or at his domicile, husband says.

Husband states that suspects, including his wife, have said he would face charges of embezzlement and suffer a long prison sentence if he "rocked the boat." He also stated that a previous senior partner, Stephen Connor, was currently serving a fifteen-year sentence for embezzlement of client's money. Husband also says suspect Hurley admitted Connor's innocence, presumably for the same type of sexual situation. I made a note to have Ron Wiseman look into this ASAP.

Husband also stated that he has contemplated suicide multiple times, and nearly drove into a lake to drown himself. He was prevented from doing so by wife and the suspects, who assaulted him yet again.

As I read the case file, two things jumped out at me. First, if the suspects had done this to two of their own partners, they may very well have done it to other employees. Additionally, since the suspects were all senior partners, it was apparent that the firm's management not only condoned the activity, but encouraged it as well.

Second, it was clear to me that the first priority had to be Jim's safety and mental well-being. I contacted the administrative office at our base of operations, an abandoned Army base we call "Fort Apache," and made arrangements for Jim to stay there until the case was resolved. I also arranged for counseling and any necessary medical treatment.

My second call was to our team of private investigators. I gave them Mr. Winters' address and was assured the house would be covered with both audio and video surveillance. Nothing would happen at the house without us knowing about it.

I then called our main outside researcher, Ron Wiseman. He had received the case file Bill sent by email and had already begun to profile the individuals involved. I asked him to research the Connor case as well and forward whatever he got to me and the legal folks at Fort Apache.

From what I could see, this was pretty much a slam-dunk case. If all went well, the law firm would be out of business within a week and the suspects would be in jail, their law licenses forever suspended. I also thought both Jim and Stephen would have cause to file the mother of all lawsuits against the firm and its partners, but I would leave that to the legal beagles. The wife would also find herself behind bars very soon, perhaps within the next 24 hours.

With everything I had read in the report, I suspected that Jim and/or his car may be bugged with tracking devices. I considered my options and made my decision.

I made another call, this time to Jim's cell phone. He answered on the first ring.

"Winters," he said.

"Mr. Winters, my name is Oscar Warren. I work for Bill Jackson," I said.

"Oh thank God you called," he said. I could hear the nervousness in his voice. This man was clearly frightened.

"Mr. Winters, can you leave the office?" I asked.

"Yes, I can," he said.

"Good," I replied. "I need you to meet me on the Green level of the Parkade. Can you do that?"

"Yes, I can," he said.

"Alright," I said. "Here's what I need you to do. After I hang up, I want you to turn off your phone and remove the battery. Do you know how to do that?"

"Yes, I do," he said.

"Excellent," I said. "I'm on my way there now. I drive a dark blue Dodge Ram pickup. Park as close to me as you can. Once you get there, leave the phone and battery in your car. Got it so far?"

"I got it," he said.

"Alright, and one last thing," I said. "Do not, under any circumstances, tell anyone where you're going and do not contact your wife. Understand?"

"I understand," he said.

"Good," I said. "I'm ending the call. Once I hang up, you do what I said. Grab your briefcase and your laptop if you have one and leave. Say nothing to no one. I'll see you in a few minutes."

"I'll see you, Oscar. Thanks," he said. I closed everything down, put the case file in my briefcase and paid my bill, giving the waitress a nice tip for keeping my coffee topped off.

The Parkade was a multi-story parking garage in the middle of downtown that stayed fairly busy. I made my way to the Green Level, knowing that it was usually the least busy level of the structure. I found three open spots, parked in the middle space and waited.

About five minutes later, a white Camry pulled into the spot next to me and a slightly pudgy man got out of the car. I exited my truck before he closed the driver's door and approached, pulling out my credentials. I identified myself as a federal officer. He held out his hand and introduced himself as Jim Winters.

"You're a cop?" he asked nervously.

"I'm a federal officer with the Homefront Security Task Force," I said.

"I never heard of that," he said. "I thought you worked for Bill Jackson."

"I do," I said. "He's my boss. Do you have your phone and battery?" I asked. He nodded his head and pulled them out of his pocket. I took them from him and tossed them on the front seat.

"Why'd you do that?" he asked. I figured that was a reasonable question so I didn't take offense.

"I suspect that both your phone and your car are being tracked," I said. "Please, get in my truck." He got in the front seat after I took his laptop bag and his briefcase and placed them in the back seat. I got in the front seat and called for a tow truck to take Jim's car home, using a company the Task Force contracted for this type of work. I instructed them to handle this immediately.

As we left the parking structure, Jim pointed out a Mercedes he claimed belonged to one of the suspects. It looked to me like there were three men in the vehicle. My concerns that Jim was being stalked seemed to be correct.

"That's Kevin's car," he said.

"Don't worry," I told him. "We'll be long gone before they know where you are."

"Where are we going?" he asked.

"Someplace where you'll be safe," I said. "We call it 'Fort Apache.' You'll be in protective custody until this case is resolved."

"You mean, like jail?" he asked, his eyes wide. I shook my head.

"No," I said. "More like a mini-vacation from your wife and her accomplices." I pulled out a digital recorder and asked Jim to give me his full statement.

As I drove to Fort Apache, Jim told me his entire sordid tale -- how his wife was first drugged by the suspects and used sexually, then how she and the other suspects repeatedly cuckolded and threatened him. The last incident took place the day before with the obligatory threat of jail should he try to take any action.

"But this time, I did something different," he said.

"What's that?" I asked. He pulled out a digital audio recorder from his trouser pocket.

"I recorded the whole thing," he said. "I decided to do this after I spoke with Mr. Jackson. I knew I needed something to back up my story." I nodded my head.

"Good," I said. "I don't know if it'll hold up in court, but it might be enough to show probable cause."

"Listen to this," he said, pressing some buttons on the recorder. Soon, Kevin's voice boomed out of the recorder.

"Sign this, cuck," Kevin's voice said on the recorder.

"What is this?" Jim asked.

"It basically says that you agree to let your wife have sex with us any time she wants," Kevin said. "It also gives us full power of attorney over everything you own -- your house, car, bank account, medical records, everything. We can do whatever we want whenever we want and you can't do anything. If we decide to have you red-flagged or committed to a mental institution, we can, and there's nothing you can do."

"Why are you doing this?" Jim asked.

"Because we can," Kevin said.

"What if I refuse to sign?" he asked.

"Then we'll have no choice but to go to the authorities with evidence of your wrongdoing," Kevin said. "And you'll be in jail along with Connor. And we'll have everything you own anyway, including your wife."

"But you know that's all a lie," Jim said. "That makes this an illegal agreement."

"Of course it's all a lie," Kevin said. "But by the time you unravel it, it'll be too late. Sign it now, or else we'll destroy you forever." The next voice belong to a woman.

"Come on, Kevin, just sign it. It's just money and doesn't really mean anything," the woman said. "Besides, you know that I love you and I'd never do anything to hurt you." Jim paused the recording.

"That's my so-called 'loving' wife," Jim said before restarting the audio. I nodded my head. Jim's voice was the next to be heard in the audio.

"No, I'm not signing this," he said in the audio. "It's illegal and it's being done under duress." There were sounds of a brief struggle.

"Look, asshole," Kevin said. "You'd better sign this now, or I swear to God you won't live another week."

"So now you're threatening to kill me," Jim said. "Is this what you want, Donna? You want me dead?"

"Of course not, dear," she said. "You know I need you and love you."

"Fuck you," Jim said. "All of you. I'm not signing this." There was a sound of flesh striking flesh.

"That's just the beginning, asshole," Kevin said. "It'll just get worse until you sign this."

"Come on, Jim, just sign it," Donna said. "It'll go a whole lot better for both of us if you do."

"No," Jim said. "This is all very illegal. You'll just have to kill me."

"All right, asshole," Kevin said. "I'll give you 48 hours. If it isn't signed, there'll be hell to pay. And God help you if you try to inform the cops."

"Don't be stupid, Jim," Donna said. "Just sign it. Maybe I'll let you have sex with me tonight if you do."

"Fuck you, bitch," Jim said. "I wouldn't touch you with Kevin's dick and remember, you already cut me off from sex."

"I wish you wouldn't be like this, Jim," Donna said. "Things will be much easier for you if you just go along with us on this."

"Get away from me, bitch," Jim said. Donna could be heard crying in the audio.

"Forty-eight hours, asshole," Kevin said. "I'll be watching you. Come on, Donna, let's get out of here. I'll take you home." The audio ended with the sound of a door closing.

"I don't understand something," I said to Jim. "Why would Kevin and your wife want you to sign over everything to him?"

"I just landed a huge bonus from a project I finished," Jim said. "Plus, I got a windfall from some investments. Taken together, it would set Donna and I up for life."

"So this is all about money?" I asked.

"That, and sex," Jim said.

"Do you still have the document he wants you to sign?" I asked.

"Yes," Jim said. "In my briefcase."

"Good," I said. "When we get you settled in, I'll need that to help get the arrest warrants."

"You're going to arrest them?" Jim asked.

"Of course," I said. "We now have evidence of extortion, conspiracy to commit extortion, and I'm going to push for an attempted murder charge. Let the legal folks work it all out." Jim nodded his head.

We finally arrived at Fort Apache and I got Jim settled into his apartment. I reminded him not to contact anyone. We went to the tech center where he would work with our forensic IT folks. While there, he handed me the document Kevin wanted him to sign. Armed with that and the voice recorder, I went to the legal department to see our on-site magistrate.

After going over what I had, the magistrate issued arrest warrants for all the suspects, including Donna, for multiple charges. He also froze all of Jim's assets to keep them out of Donna's -- and by extension, her co-conspirators -- hands. The order went out electronically and the freeze was immediately put into place.

I decided not to waste any time and headed back to town. On the way, I contacted a field team the local FBI office had assigned to us and arranged to have them meet me at Jim's house. The surveillance team informed me that Jim's vehicle had been dropped off at the house.

The suspects arrived shortly thereafter and were in the house with Donna. According to the surveillance team, the suspects were busy planning their revenge on Jim. I was informed they would have audio available for me when I arrived.