The Transamerica Cell: A fast paced, gripping, action adventure, conspiracy thriller, with a superb, breath-taking ending (Hedge & Cole Book 3)

by Kevin Bradley

  A young woman was standing next to Hedge. She was craning her neck to get a good look at what the guide was holding.

  ‘Oh my god,’ she turned towards Hedge. ‘Can you believe it? That is the exact microphone that Elvis would have used. That’s so unreal.’

  The woman must have been in her late twenties. She appeared to be alone on the tour. Her eyes were full of life, and her face was slightly flushed. Without realising what she was doing, she had taken hold of Hedge’s arm, just above the elbow, and was squeezing it tightly.

  ‘It certainly is,’ replied Hedge. He didn’t find the antique microphone quite as exciting as she obviously did, but the smell of her perfume so close to him was quite intoxicating.

  Several people in the group had a quick go at holding the microphone. One elderly guy even did an Elvis style gyration as he did so. His wife eventually managed to pull him away, shouting at him as they left.

  The guide moved on to the next room. Hedge stayed for one final look at the various mementos on display. The young woman had also remained, and was now holding the long stem of the microphone.

  ‘It’s incredible,’ she was saying to no one in particular.

  Hedge looked across at her. Her eyes were glazed over and she had a big smile on her face. Her fingers were holding the metal pole tightly, and she had crossed one of her legs over the bottom of it. Her mouth was pressed against the metal of the microphone, and her lips were slowly mouthing some words. Hedge realised that she was singing. He could hear a gentle, melodic sound coming up from her throat, but he couldn’t make out the specific words, and he didn’t recognise the tune.

  With her lips continuing to move, she had now closed her eyes, and was gently pushing the microphone stand against the inside of her thighs, slowly moving it up and down. Her breathing had become fast and shallow, and Hedge noticed that her lips had reddened slightly.

  He suddenly realised what she was doing. Clearly, the idea that her hero Elvis had also held this microphone all those years ago had brought her to this state of arousal.

  He was momentarily embarrassed, and turned to leave.

  ‘Hey you, come here,’ she said softly. Her eyes had flicked open, and they followed him as he crossed the room.

  He tried to ignore her, and carried on walking away.

  She repeated her request, slightly more forcibly this time.

  He stopped, and turned. She was pointing at him with one hand. Her other hand was still moving the metal pole up and down, forcing it to rub hard against the fabric of her jeans, still in the area between her legs.

  ‘Come and hold this,’ she said.

  Hedge moved towards her slowly, and reached for the microphone pole.

  ‘No. Not that. I want you to hold this.’

  She had managed to unbutton the top of her shirt, and one of her breasts was clearly visible. The young woman took hold of one of his hands, and pushed it against her soft skin. Hedge quickly overcame his shock, as he was carried away by the passionate state she was in. He touched her gently, massaging her skin softly. Then he moved his fingers down from the top of her breast and touched her erect nipple. His hand lingered there, squeezing and caressing.

  Feeling his touch on that sensitive area, she let out a sudden gasp, and started to move the pole against her groin with greater urgency.

  ‘Do that again. Please. Touch me some more.’

  Hedge was also aroused now, and so he needed no further encouragement. He squeezed the breast again, harder this time. Then he leant his head down and placed his mouth over the woman’s nipple. He bit the soft skin lightly, and then wrapped his lips around the tip of her breast.’

  The young woman drew in her breath sharply. At the same time as pulling his head harder against her breast, she was also undoing the front of her jeans. Her breathing was very heavy now, and she had taken hold of his hand once more. This time she pushed it down the front of her panties, and guided his fingers towards the sensitive area between her legs.

  She was gasping for breath now, and her arousal had reached fever pitch.

  ‘Push your fingers inside,’ she ordered. ‘Push harder, do it quick, I’m coming now.’

  Hedge had several of his fingers inside her, and her panties were soaking wet. He was pushing hard against her sensitive skin, when suddenly she screamed loudly, and pushed herself hard against his hand. A long, gentle moaning sound then came from deep within her throat. Her head dropped and came to rest on Hedge’s shoulder, and he felt her whole body shudder one final time.

  Then she was still. Her breathing started to return to normal. Standing up straight, she stood the microphone against the wall to one side of her. She buttoned up her shirt, and pulled up her jeans. Smiling pleasantly at Hedge, she gave him a big kiss right on his lips.

  ‘We’d better rejoin the group. We might be missing something good,’ she said.

  Then she walked off quickly, with her sweet smelling perfume wafting in the air.

  Chapter Thirty

  They took Interstate 40 out of Memphis, still heading east. It was a warm day, the wind was light, and the landscape was much greener than it had been in previous days.

  Cole was driving the dark grey Mustang. He was pushing it along, and they were making good progress. Quite soon, they were approaching Nashville, still on Interstate 40.

  Hedge was reading from the guide book that they had brought along with them.

  ‘If you like country music, then this is the place to visit. We could go and see a live music show at the Grand Ole Opry. Just your sort of thing I would have thought.’

  Cole ignored the comment.

  Hedge continued to study the book.

  ‘Well, if that’s not to your taste, we could always pay a quick visit to the Johnny Cash Museum, or the Country Music Hall of Fame.’

  Cole finally rose to the bait. ‘Or what would be much more fun, we could go to the Nashville Zoo, find a hungry lion, and then I watch while we let it chew your leg off.’

  ‘So that’s a no to the Johnny Cash Museum then?’ Hedge was smirking slightly.

  ‘Of course it’s a fucking no.’

  As if to reinforce his answer, Cole pulled out into the centre lane of the Interstate as they passed the last turn off for downtown Nashville. He flicked the accelerator of the Mustang at the same time, and the V8 engine pushed the speed quickly up to ninety miles an hour.

  ‘Hey, what about the Grand Ole Opry’

  Cole ignored him.

  Hedge snapped the guide book closed and turned his head to watch as they bypassed Nashville. He was still smiling about goading his friend, when some ten miles later he took a turn at driving.

  As he settled into the passenger seat, Cole took the opportunity to get his revenge.

  ‘In the past you have told me a few horror stories about your boarding school days,’ he said.

  Hedge looked across at him nervously. ‘Yes. What about that?’

  ‘You still think that’s why you get so nervous?’

  ‘Maybe that’s part of it.’

  ‘What else then?’

  Hedge smiled across at his friend. ‘Another reason could be because I associate with complete dickheads, like you.’

  ‘Yes, that could be right,’ Cole said, and then laughed. ‘So have I heard all the bad stories now, or do you have a few more up your sleeve.’

  It was Hedge’s turn to laugh. ‘You don’t know the half of it. Even your army training wouldn’t have been as bad as what we had to endure.’

  ‘Go on then,’ said Cole.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Tell me what you bunch of pussies had to go through. Give me an example.’

  Hedge thought for a moment. He pulled the Mustang into the middle lane on the road to let another car join the Interstate from his right. Then he slowly drifted back into the inside lane.

  ‘Ok. Try this one then,’ said Hedge.

  He checked his speed, glanced into his rear view mirror briefly, and then began telling
the story.

  It was the start of Hedge’s third year at Upperdale. All the boys in the boarding house had breakfast together every morning in the large dining room. There were tables laid out across the room, and each table seated eight people. The senior boys would sit at one end of the table, with the juniors at the other end.

  On this particular morning, Hedge had arrived at the dining room feeling especially hungry. He had been playing tennis the previous evening and had worked up quite an appetite. Once the boys had sat down to eat, Hedge had immediately grabbed hold of the cereal packet and helped himself to a bowl of corn flakes. He had then topped up the bowl with a large serving of cold milk from the jug provided for each table.

  Hedge immediately realised his mistake. He tentatively replaced the milk jug and looked up at the senior boy sitting at the top of the table.

  Peter Green, or Greenie, as he was called, was staring directly at Hedge. ‘Let me know when you have finished with the milk Hedge, won’t you. You will save some for me I assume,’ he said in a sarcastic tone. There was also a hint of menace in his voice.

  Hedge knew that dining room etiquette stated that senior boys took their food first, followed by junior boys. This often meant that with things such as butter and milk, there may well not be any left for the juniors once the seniors had taken what they wanted. Each table was given a certain allocation at the start of the meal, and no ‘extras’ would be forthcoming from the kitchen staff.

  ‘Sorry Greenie,’ said Hedge as he looked down at his bowl. It was almost overflowing with milk.

  ‘That’s alright, apology accepted Master Hedge. Eat you cereal. I want to see a clean bowl.’

  Hedge was relieved. It appeared that his mistake was going to be overlooked. He eagerly started to consume his corn flakes. When he had finished, he looked up to see Greenie and the other senior boys looking at him.

  ‘Now Hedge, you should have some more milk, as no one else seems to want any today,’ said Greenie.

  ‘Thanks, but I’ve had enough now,’ said Hedge.

  Greenie’s expression hardened. ‘I said drink some more milk. In fact, you will drink all of it. Pick up the jug.’

  Hedge obeyed and poured himself a full glass of the cold milk. The jug contained about two litres, and even after he had filled his glass, he noticed there was still a lot of fluid left in the jug. He slowly started to drink.

  Greenie pointed to what was remaining. ‘Finish it, the whole lot.’

  Hedge poured another glass and drank it down. He was starting to feel bloated, but realised this was not a battle he was going to win. He poured again, and continued to drink the milk until the jug was finally empty.

  Greenie and the other senior boys were laughing by now, but then they settled down and carried on eating their own food.

  Hedge was too full to touch any more breakfast, so he sat quietly, hoping that was the end of the matter.

  After a few minutes, he raised his hand slowly and looked up towards Greenie.

  ‘Can I have permission to leave the table and go to the toilet please?’

  Since consuming the two litres of milk, he had suddenly become aware of an acute need to pee.

  ‘Permission denied,’ said Greenie, and carried on eating a slice of hot buttered toast.

  Hedge looked at the clock at the front of the dining hall. It was almost half past eight, and breakfast would be finished in a few minutes. He hoped he could hang on.

  Greenie got up from his chair which effectively signalled the end of breakfast for the boys at his table. Hedge quickly got up and started off towards the main door, heading towards the toilets.

  ‘Where do you think you are going Hedge? I want you to report to my room, now,’ barked Greenie.

  ‘But, I just need to ….’

  ‘Right now,’ repeated Greenie, and he strode off towards the main staircase.

  Greenie’s room was on the second floor, and Hedge waited quietly outside. Eventually he shouted for him to come in.

  ‘Can I get you a drink of anything Hedge?’ This was said in a voice that was just a little too polite, but again there was menace lurking just below the surface.

  ‘I’m fine thank you.’ He was bursting for the toilet, so he definitely didn’t want any more fluids inside him.

  Hedge stood near the door to the room and waited. Greenie was sorting out some sports gear and packing it in his bag. It looked like he had rugby training that morning.

  There was a sharp knock at the door, and another senior boy entered the room. Hedge didn’t know him, but thought he had seen him around the boarding house before.

  ‘This is Murray,’ said Greenie. ‘Murray, meet young Hedge.’

  Murray held out his hand for Hedge to shake. As Hedge held out his own hand though, Murray took his arm and twisted it up behind him. He screamed as the pain flashed in his wrist, and tried to struggle against Murray’s hold.

  ‘Keep still, you little worm,’ said Murray, as he tightened his grip on Hedge’s arm.

  Greenie stood up and pushed himself around the back of Hedge. He had a short length of nylon rope in his hand, and he tied his hands securely together. The two senior boys then lifted Hedge roughly into the tall cupboard that stood at one end of the room. They secured the rope to the clothing rail at the top of the cupboard and knotted it well. Hedge was now securely fastened inside the unit. His hands were above his head tied to the rail, and he was forced to stand up by the tension of the rope.

  ‘You can’t do this to me. I’ve got a History lesson at nine o’clock this morning. You’ll have to let me go. Also I need a pee real bad. I’m desperate. I need to go to the toilet urgently,’ shouted Hedge.

  Greenie picked up a dirty rugby sock from his floor. It was a knee length sock, so it was fairly long. It smelt of stale sweat, and was covered in patches of dark brown mud. He looped it around Hedges head and tied it tightly. The sock covered Hedge’s mouth, and so prevented him from talking further.

  ‘That’ll shut you up for a while,’ Greenie said. ‘My mate here will complete the rest of the tying up, won’t you Murray?’

  Murray looked at Greenie with a worried look. ‘Bloody hell, do I have to do it?’

  Greenie bent down and rummaged around in some dirty clothes that littered the floor of his room. He pushed several garments out of the way until he found what he was looking for. It was a white handkerchief, although it was no longer very white, more of a grey colour. It looked like it had been well used.

  ‘Use this,’ he said to Murray, and smiled.

  Murray reluctantly took the dirty piece of material. He was cursing under his breath, but Hedge couldn’t hear what he was saying. Murray rolled up the handkerchief to form it into a length of about twelve inches long. He then walked over to where Hedge stood tied in the cupboard. Murray winced as he put his hand down the front of Hedge’s trousers and looped the folded cloth around his penis. Hedge tried to pull away but Greenie took hold of him and held him still. Murray pulled the material tight and knotted it securely in place.

  Hedge was trying to scream, but the dirty sock was muffling his voice. The material around his penis felt very tight and it had immediately started to hurt. He now had the agony from the desperate need to pee, along with the pain of the handkerchief cutting off his blood circulation in his penis.

  ‘That will stop you peeing accidentally and ruining my cupboard,’ said Greenie. ‘Now you be a good boy and stand quietly. I’ll be back at ten o’clock hopefully after rugby training. See you soon.’

  Greenie closed the cupboard, and Hedge heard the door to the room being shut and locked as the two seniors left.

  Chapter Thirty One

  It was dark inside the cupboard, with just a small chink of light coming through the gap at the top of the door. Hedge felt utterly helpless. He was now desperate for a piss, and couldn’t even think about waiting until ten o’clock when Greenie returned. He needed to relieve himself right now. The pressure on his bladder was terrible
. It felt like something inside him was about to burst. He tried to pee. He wasn’t worried about the damage to the cupboard as all he was concerned about was trying to alleviate the pain in his bladder.

  He concentrated as hard as he could, and desperately tried to force himself to piss, but nothing came out. The handkerchief tied around him was doing its job. It had completely closed the tube leading from his bladder. No matter how much pressure he exerted, no urine was going to flow.

  He tried to free his hands from the rope, but they were tied tight. His wrists ached where the nylon rope was rubbing against them. After ten more minutes, his legs started to tire from standing up in the restricted space of the cupboard. The material around his penis was really sore, and he worried whether the lack of blood flowing would cause him some permanent damage.

  All this though was nothing when compared to the torment his bladder was feeling due to the pressure of liquid it now contained. He had drunk two litres of milk at breakfast, plus he had a glass of water when he had first woken that morning. A large proportion of that fluid was now bursting to get out of him. He wasn’t sure what capacity his bladder could hold, but he felt sure he had exceeded whatever it was.

  In fact the capacity of a good size human bladder is something like one litre. Obviously quite a lot of what we drink is used by the body in its normal daily functions. However, some of what we drink is waste, and so eventually finds its way to the bladder. Once the bladder approaches being half full, the brain starts sending out warning signals. We feel this as acute pain in the groin region. As the bladder continues to fill, the worse the pain becomes. It’s the body’s way of ensuring that the bladder is not damaged with excess volume. The likelihood of the bladder bursting is quite remote though as the first thing the brain will do to protect it is to release the muscle that prevents the human body from urinating. Therefore, if the bladder approaches being full, then the brain will override an individual’s control, and so you will piss yourself regardless of where you happen to be at the time. That is true as long as there is no restriction blocking the outlet of the urine, as there was in this case.