Everyone having sex is at least 18. This story is a work of fiction. I made it all up. Check reality at the door and enjoy it for what it is. Special thanks to goducks111 for his help and making this a better story. This is part 1 of 2.
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Chapter 1 -- Caught
I wake up to someone nudging me. I hear the safety being released on several firearms. My family found me. FUCK! I have been avoiding them for years.
A deep, steady voice says to me, "Ken, take it easy there. No sudden movements. My teammates are each as good as you are. Your sister paid us huge money to bring you back alive. I can break every bone of your body and disfigure every square inch of skin; you just need to be alive. We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Which do you prefer?"
It must have been the truck repairs. The VIN didn't show up, and they figured it was me somehow. I am a retired (too old) CIA assassin. I was the best they had. I was ruthless and an expert in just about everything. It would take a group to get me. They must be outstanding for me not to hear them come into my motel room.
When I was younger and cocky, I would have tried to take them out. I have slowed down and gotten a bit smarter in my "old" age. I hate my family, but they won't kill me.
I open my eyes and see six men in full combat suits. Four have pistols, and two have Uzi's, a very dangerous weapon in such a small room. They throw a lot of lead for such a small weapon. They all look scared; their fingers are sweaty and quivering on the triggers.
I use my deep and silky-smooth voice, "I promise to go with you. I'll assist if necessary until I am sitting in the living room of the house my sister is living in or seven days have elapsed."
Most of them ease up. Only the boss doesn't.
The boss screams, "Hold!" All guns are on me again. "AND I will not try to escape, AND I will do everything in my power to get back to my sister's living room."
My trademark within the CIA is that I was an honorable man. I had a stint with the Marines, and they taught me a lot. The honor part stayed with me forever. It sure made for a rough life. Try being an assassin and honorable at the same time.
I snicker and say, "I will not try to escape, and I will do everything I can to assist you in getting me back to my sister's living room. I give you my word." I don't see that I really have a choice.
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24 hours later:
I am in the back of a black Suburban that has been heavily modified, a man on each side of me. The vehicle has bulletproof glass and a supercharged motor. I would bet anything that the doors are enhanced to stop launched weapons as well.
We are pulling up to a series of buildings on a large, gated property outside of town. It has a ten-car garage, a huge three-story mansion, a pool, tennis court, basketball court, volleyball court, and what looks like a nine-hole putting green.
One of the guys tells me, "Bowling, racquetball, and ping pong are in the basement. Inside the garage is a large car collection of old restored muscle cars and a few that are much older. Of those, two are show quality, and two are resto-mods (old body but new engine, suspension, power steering, power breaks, air conditioning, and of course, an FM radio)."
They sure know the stuff that I like. This can't all be here to lure me.
A few minutes later, we are in front of the house, and we walk into what looks like an empty home. I stand in front of the couch. All guns are on me again, I sit down. A few more men come in; one asks for my drink order. I ask for a Manhattan.
Finally, my sister Laura shows up with my mother and father behind her, one on each side. All three of them look to be dressed up for a night club. Dad has a tuxedo on, mom is in a long slinky dress, while Laura is in a knee-length satin black dress with a pushup bra. The bra is pushing out, which is odd because her tits are already huge and press out naturally.
Mom and dad sit down in a loveseat that Laura points to. She is eyeing me head to toe. I am in shorts, a raggedy t-shirt, my hair is too long, and I am dirty from living in the forest.
Laura starts the charade, "Welcome home, Ken. It's been ten years since I last saw you. The military let you go so that you could join the CIA. You didn't accept my offer back then. This time it will be an offer you can't refuse. I really need your help. I'm motivated, and you are exactly what I need.
I laugh at her. Her smile is gone.
Laura says in a chilling voice, "Mother. Get up and step forward. On your knees. Close your eyes. Hands behind your back." Mom did all those things. "Paul, if my brother moves a muscle, put a bullet in my mother's skull." I am frozen stiff. "Have I got your attention now?" I don't respond.
Laura continues, "If you don't agree to help me, my guards will kill mom, dad, and then me. You inherit everything. That's how bad I need you."
I relent, "I'll listen to your pitch, I give you my word." I don't trust my sister or my parents. They are despicable people while I am a man of honor. Well, as much honor as a killer can have.