John's Book: Sex Mogul

By H. Kundalini

I was the personal driver, bodyguard, driver, listener and finally friend of the Sex Mogul. Here are some passages we went through.

• Language: English
• Publisher: H. Kundalini
• Release date: May 9, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201812300

H. Kundalini

H. Kundalini writes about events that he has experienced or that he has known experienced by others. Especially, he likes to focus on social situations and human relationships.

Book preview

FAMILY TIES

The middle child of a typical dysfunctional working class family, I grew up watching my drunk father spanking my drugged mother for more money. He had random jobs, never cementing a living. She worked here and there as a waitress.

By the age of sixteen I was stuck between an older eighteen year brother who was the bully of the neighborhood, stealing things to sell in dishonest pawn shops and a fourteen year younger sister who was already the twenty bucks little whore of the neighborhood. I was nothing. Neither a bad boy nor a good boy. Just pushing life ahead. Just waiting for the next day to come.

The next day was just like the previous day, and again and again.

Until things started changing. For better and worse.

Brother started arriving home with better clothes, fancy watches and jewelry. Money in the pocket. Soon cars were being parked in front of our house for the night. Nice cars. Really nice cars like he would never afford. Every week he would give me money, usually a one hundred bill. Use it as you wish, he said.

Sister also started looking like she was making more than the twenties the neighborhood guys used to pay. Better clothes and the works. And she also went out with Bro more frequently.

Mom also looked more stoned than usual. I couldn’t guess how she was making money for her stuff. My father almost always arrived home early in the morning, dirty. I was sure he had fallen and slept drunk on the sidewalk. When he would show up. That had been my day-by-day family routine.

My off-family routine was that typical of a teenager. School, sports, nothing unusual. Not getting into troubles either.

The news ran fast. Bro was dealing drugs. He and Sis joined a dangerous gang. Sis was his cover up. That explained the fancy cars, clothes and money. And the gun. He also kept bags in a hidden space in the garage. That also explained the always heavily stoned Mom. Bro was flooding her with a constant supply. She didn’t even care about food for us. I had to take care of it myself if I wanted to put something in my stomach. But I made sure there would be food for her if she wanted to.

The weekly one hundred bucks that I would use as I wished wasn’t spent on me. The grocery stores got this job.

By the age of eighteen I joined the Military Service. I could have joined earlier, after concluding High School, but Dad would have to authorize. He wouldn’t, I knew that.

Anyway, I joined and had a fast progress. Due to my strong build, school record and average knowledge of two other languages, as my neighborhood had a considerable number of immigrants, I climbed up the ladder and was soon in charge of intelligence tasks, together with the usual fight training. A marksman, very good with all kinds of firearms, daggers, explosives, I also stood up in this field of expertise.

A phone call almost sent everything down the drain. My family had been murdered and the house was burned to the ground. If I were there, I would surely be killed too.

Apparently Bro and Mom had diverted kilos of drugs from the drug lord and sold out of the scheme. The heavy hand of revenge went down on everyone and everything there.

When my Captain was informed of what happened, why and how hard, he allowed me to go to the funeral but demanded me to take four chaps together, for safety. Civilian clothes, but well-armed. I did as told.

By that time, I had already gathered a good group of brothers in arms. Fourteen good guys, we supported each other, we trusted each other. We were almost an independent army inside the service.

I told them what happened, and that I was allowed to take four of them with me. All the guys raised hands and offered to go and do the cleaning job.

There won’t be any cleaning. It’s just for safety.

The difficulty was choosing four of my guys. The solution was having them deciding among themselves. Four toothpicks were cut and put together with ten uncut. Those who picked up the shorter ones made up my party.

THE FUNERAL

The neighborhood was quiet when the five of us arrived. Unusually quiet. There were always had that thumping sound of Rap that I hated. Now, silence ruled.

Could it be respect, could it be fear, I couldn’t tell.

The silence was fearsome. Like you couldn’t tell what was going to happen.

Funeral services were held at the city graveyard. No luxury, no black limousines, no funeral cortege. Just four low priced coffins aligned. The city hall was paying the expenses. No chapel, no chorus singing, just a handful of neighbors. Some came to me to give their condolences, some just stayed there, looking. Checking if my family was really gone, I knew.

Some guys I have never met before hanging around.

My chaps were very spread around the surroundings, the way we were trained to map what was going on in an operational scenario.

When the burial ended and the graves were filled, people started going out. A girl came to me. Her eyes were wide open, pupils dilated. She handed me a note.

You are free now. Leave the military and you are gone too.

I got the tip. I will surely get into a war. Not a war that I was prepared to face. Not a war at some far country. An underground war in the city I lived. The city that killed my family.

A quick glance to one of my buddies warned him to keep an eye on the girl. He acknowledged. Later he reported. The girl got into a car that had a guy with a camera, those long shot cameras, taking pictures. As soon as she boarded, they left.

Got the license plate? I asked.

Got it.

Good.

What next?

I don’t know. Maybe Captain will help.

Back to the base, I reported what had happened to Captain Jones.

Well, well, what do you think it is, Private?

They are following me up.

Right. Preparing your portfolio, a dossier about you. Be smart.

I’ll be, Sir.

In the meantime, the best option is to keep you away from here. They must be informed of your location.

Any plan, Sir?

Yes. Colonel Benson runs a specialized training camp for special men. Every year I send the best boys I have to join his party. I was about to choose this year ones. You are among my best boys, so I’ll send you there. You’ll join a Special Task Force few people know that exist. You’ll be trained in skills no regular soldier is. And you’ll be assigned to secret missions no one would dare to take. Missions that no one will admit existed. Do you want to join it?

Captain stopped talking and looked at me, waiting for reactions. No one came out of me.

Any questions, Private?

About what, Sir?

About this Special Force.

What Special Force, Sir? I have never heard about that.

Nothing at all?

Nothing at all Sir.

You are smart, I like that. I knew it the moment I put my eyes on you. I’ll tell you what. A plane will take off from the airfield near here in three days. You’ll be in there. You and nineteen other buds like you.

Do I know them, Sir?

Only those from here. The others surely not. Why?

I’d be more comfortable if I had some of my buddies with me. You know, Sir, trust.

You truly trust them, don’t you?

I do, Sir.

I’ll tell you what. Benson required twenty. I have thirty to choose from. I am aware you are a leader among the boys, even not having a formal leading position yourself. You are a natural leader, and that’s what we look for when it comes to these Special Tasks. You can choose your buddies to go with you.

I’d take them all, Sir.

OK, take them all, but be warned. Training is hard. Some of them may not succeed and will be brought back here. Captain lowered the tone.

And what if they do not succeed? What if they come back here? Who will know?

Only them, you, the upper command chain and me. No one else will know. If they fail the training they’ll take back their career here with us and life will go on. For all purposes, you guys were temporarily sent to other facility.

If you allow me, Sir, I’ll accept the duty.

I do. Pick up your trustful buddies and report back when you guys are ready.

Yes Sir, thank you Sir.

Dismissed

Thank you Sir. With your permission Sir. And I left.

I invited the guys and we met not at the usual place, a pub a little far from the base.

We were a total of fourteen, so the meeting was held at the stadium stands. The pub would not fit.

When I laid the cards, explaining the plan, two of them dropped off.

I can’t. Our computer nerd almost fainted. Simply can’t. As soon as I leave this shit I’ll get a job in the software industry. I really can’t.

No problem. I understand that. But hope you’ll help us if we need.

I will, you know that, the way I can, but I can’t go with you.

I respect that.

The other buddy that didn’t want to come with us had a different reason.

Girlfriend is pregnant. I can’t go. I need the government money.

Agreed. You’re right. Take care of her. And take care of yourself.

So, we were twelve. Twelve operational. I was sure the two left out would be operational if the moment came. They would surely be there for us.

And they were. Not now. Not soon. We needed them later. Not a few times. Many indeed.

HERE COMES THE HELL’S LOBBY

Three days later, at the end of the afternoon, a chopper took the twelve of us to the airfield nearby. There, we were escorted and sent to individual rooms. Obviously they didn’t want us to have contact with each other. I was told to remove my former uniform, including trunks and boots, hand everything to the escort and was informed that from then on, I would wear a different one. I was left there, alone, naked. The room was spartan. Single bed, side table, small wardrobe with hangers inside, an interphone on the wall, a small bathroom with shower, sink, toilet. A pack of hygiene supplies under the sink. Also, a pair of rubber slippers, generic size. Soft towels too.

I stayed there, lying on the bed, looking at the lone light bulb above, empty minded, just waiting for things to happen. Minutes later, a knock on the door. A guy pushing a cart