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From: "Bill Morgan" <morg105829@hotmail.com>
Subject: {Morgan} Repost: Susan Jennings 4 of 7; M/F Rom
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Author's note: If you are looking for wall-to-wall sex, look elsewhere. 
This book is a romance with a military setting. Beyond that, the sex is 
comparable to - or less than - what one would find in almost any work of 
popular fiction.

Permission is granted to post on any free site, as long as the copyright 
statement is included. Please advise the author of any such postings.

This story - or novella - was posted earlier in the year. Subsequently 
I've learned more about posting in the interest of downloading and 
readability. This is Chapter 4 of 7.

Comments are welcome and encouraged. Please address me at 
morg105829@aol.com.

Susan Jennings

Copyright by Morgan 1992, 1998; All rights reserved.

Chapter 4

The press began to arrive at the estate shortly before the appointed 
hour.  Ginny was pleased to see that two of the network-affiliated Los 
Angeles television stations had sent out film crews.  Moreover, in 
addition to the usual motion picture industry reporters, there were a 
few who were from the regular news desks.

Chairs had been set up on the pool terrace for the conference.  A 
rostrum with a microphone was set up in front.  Taking her position 
there, she opened the session.  "Good afternoon, everyone.  Thank you so 
much for coming.  I am Marcia Matthews," she said with a warm smile.  
"The reason for this press conference has nothing to do with motion 
pictures, but a great deal to do with me.  As many of you know, my real 
name is Virginia Cameron, known to my friends as Ginny.  I'm a newcomer 
here to Hollywood.  In fact, aside from believing myself to have been 
incredibly lucky, I'm still not sure how I got here.

"Before arriving in Hollywood, I was an officer in the Army serving in 
Vietnam.  Over five years ago I was captured by the enemy when a 
helicopter in which I was traveling was forced down.  I was held in a 
prisoner-of-war camp for over a year.  Near the end of my stay I met a 
person who I want you all to meet today."

Ginny paused, backed away from the rostrum and stood with her head up 
straight.  Only then did the reporters realize there were tears flowing 
in twin streams from her eyes.  Then she said, "Before I continue, 
though, I am going to do something I have never done before.  I am going 
to rely on your discretion about what you see and how you might use what 
you see and hear here today.  Of course, the news judgment is entirely 
in your hands.  I cannot and will not stop you from using it in any way 
you see fit.  I have been candid with you in the past," she said with a 
warm smile, "and you have never let me down.  I am counting on you again 
today."

Ginny took a deep breath and continued, "Now for the 'first'.  I am 
going to pass out the first nude pictures ever taken of me.  In a sense 
they are pornographic - what they depict is obscene.  I will come back 
to that after you have a chance to see them."

Then she passed out full-color photographs of herself - front and side 
views - taken in the hospital immediately following her rescue from the 
POW camp and return to Saigon.  All that was recognizable as Virginia 
Cameron was the hair color and the intense emerald-green eyes.  Mike 
Chapman, as a plastic surgeon, could recognize Ginny in the pictures but 
even he gasped.

"That's sort of how I looked when I first met the person I referred to 
earlier," Ginny continued, "Except, thanks to her, I weighed about five 
pounds more in the pictures than when the two of us first met."

Looking around the group of reporters she asked rhetorically, "Are these 
pictures pornographic?  I think they are.  They certainly depict man's 
inhumanity to man.  But God knows I was not in a sexy pose.  In fact, 
it's no pose at all.  Although it's been quite awhile since I saw these 
photos last, I can still remember when they were taken.  The 
photographer wasn't sure I could even stand up unsupported.  I could.  
At any rate, after I was released from the hospital, I slowly regained 
my weight, and then - as we love to say here in Hollywood - the rest is 
history.

"Now I want to tell you about the other person.  Her name is Susan 
Jennings.  While I was waiting for you to arrive, I was thinking about 
my remarks, and so I was trying to think of appropriate words to 
describe my relationship to her."

Ginny's eyes were flowing with tears now and her voice broke, but she 
recovered enough to continue, "All I could come up with was a line from 
Charles Dickens' "A Tale of Two Cities", 'Greater love hath no man than 
he who lays down his life for a friend.'  Well," Ginny continued while 
using every ounce of her remaining willpower to continue to speak, "I 
guess Susan must be my friend.  She literally laid down her life to save 
mine.  Susan, would you please come up here?"

Susan walked up to the front of the area and joined Ginny.  Rick brought 
up a chair for her to sit on since Mike had urged her to remain seated 
as much as possible.  "This is Susan Jennings," Ginny Cameron continued.  
"When I first met her, I was literally hours away from death.  I 
remember vividly what happened next.  Susan had traded her bra to a 
guard for food bars.  The bars were taken from Red Cross parcels we were 
supposed to get but never did.  You see, the way things worked in the 
camp was that girls traded their clothing for food.  When there was no 
more clothing, they traded their bodies.  A couple of us were probably 
fools.  We decided it was better to go hungry.

"I am here to tell you that starving to death is not a pleasant way to 
go.  I didn't go the sex route.  When I realized I was going to die and 
changed my mind, it was too late.  By then I no longer had a body left 
to sell.  Since all the prisoners were in the same boat - starving - it 
was live and let live.  Or, more accurately, die and let die.  The only 
way someone could help another was by going without.

"That is exactly what Susan Jennings did for her entire stay in that 
prison camp.  She went without so that other prisoners might survive.  
To put it into perspective, I was imprisoned there for more than a year, 
while Susan was there less than three months.  Nonetheless, when we were 
rescued, she weighed even less than I did.  On the other hand, there 
were probably at least fifty more prisoners still alive than there would 
have been without her."

Although tears were still flowing, Ginny had now regained control.  
Standing up as straight as she could with her shoulders back and her 
tits upthrust she looked incredibly beautiful.  The news people were all 
hanging on her words.  Clearly, this was a very different Hollywood 
press conference.  "On that first day, Susan Jennings brought a 
nutrition bar over to me.  She fed it to me a tiny piece at a time.  She 
just put a tiny piece in my mouth, let it melt, and then did it again.  
She continued until the bar was all gone.  Susan saved my life.  And 
there was so much more.  One day Susan took on thirty camp guards 
sexually one right after the other.  Why?  To get some medicine to try 
to save the lives of some of our dying men.

"Finally, there was the last day.  The guards ordered us to assemble in 
the center of the compound.  I never did know why.  At any rate, I fell 
trying to get up.  The guard indicated I was to get ten lashes with his 
bullwhip.  My thought was that at least it would be a faster death than 
starvation.  But the next thing I knew, Susan's body was extended over 
mine, covering it.  She was doing what amounted to a pushup to keep her 
weight off me.  I could hear the whip crack and slice into her body.  
After five lashes the guard ordered her to turn over.  Then she bridged 
her body - sort of an upside-down pushup - and held it while the whip 
cut into her five more times.  She cringed at the cuts but didn't fall 
on me as the whip sliced into her flesh.  Meanwhile, I was below her 
with the blood from her back dripping onto my body.  When it was all 
over, she was ordered to be crucified!"

Now Ginny's eyes were blazing with an emerald fire.  The TV cameras were 
rolling and the still photographers were taking their pictures.  Ginny 
looked like an Amazon warrior at that moment.  "You heard me right. 
*Crucified*!  Sue looked at the cross and knew it was for her.  She gave 
me the last item of her clothing, the shirt off her back, with the 
comment that she wouldn't be needing it any more.

"They hung her from the cross.  They did not nail her to it the way the 
Romans did it two thousand years ago.  They tied her to it.  For reasons 
I won't go into, it is just as lethal with rope.  That was the last time 
I saw Susan Jennings until this morning," Ginny concluded.  The tears 
were now uncontrolled but she was able to gasp out, "She was hanging on 
that cross, dying for me!"

Ginny took a couple of deep breaths to try to regain control.  Then she 
reached below the rostrum, pulled out a khaki uniform shirt and opened 
it out.  "I found this in the back of one of my drawers today," she 
said.  "It is the shirt Susan Jennings was wearing that day.  You can 
even read the name inside the collar, neatly stenciled in indelible ink, 
JENNINGS.  This morning I found something else I had never noticed 
before."

Opening the shirt, she spread it over the front of the rostrum so the 
reporters could see more clearly and pointed out marks on the shirt that 
appeared to be rust stains.  "These look like rust stains, don't they?" 
she asked.  "They are not.  It is Susan's blood.  It dripped off her 
back onto me as I lay on the ground beneath her.  Then it must have been 
soaked up by Susan's shirt when I put it on as she was being hung on the 
cross."

Turning to Susan she said quietly, "Sue, please take off all your 
clothes."  Without a moment's hesitation, Susan dropped her skirt, 
shrugged off her blouse and stood before the group completely naked.  
There was an audible gasp as the reporters and cameramen saw the vivid 
scars crisscrossing her body.  "You see the scars from that bullwhip," 
Ginny continued.  "I am asking if there is a photographer here today who 
can photograph her body better than that sailor was able to photograph 
mine in Saigon.

"You see, beginning tomorrow, Susan will have a series of operations to 
try to erase those scars.  But I don't want them forgotten.  There is 
some unfinished business here.  I heard gasps from many of you when you 
first saw Susan's body.  I don't know if you were reacting to the scars, 
to her emaciated condition, or to both.  You see, Susan Jennings is the 
reason I invited you all out here today.  There are a number of 
unanswered questions.  I will list some and my friends will add to the 
list.

"First, why is she still scarred?  Why wasn't she cared for in a naval 
hospital after she was rescued?  We just learned today that she was 
dismissed from the service.  That is the equivalent of a dishonorable 
discharge, but applicable to officers.  How, when, where, and for what 
reason was she court-martialed?  Only a general court-martial can order 
dismissal, but we cannot find out anything.  Keep in mind, the record of 
trial is a public document.  Why is it hidden?"

Turning to her side where Mike was now waiting she continued, "I would 
like my fiancé, Mike Chapman, to speak to you.  As some of you may know, 
Mike is a plastic surgeon practicing here in Los Angeles."

One of the reporters asked, "Is this Dr. Michael Chapman?"  When Ginny 
nodded agreement, the reporter spoke for the benefit of his colleagues, 
"For those of you who may not know it, Dr. Chapman is generally regarded 
as the finest plastic surgeon in Southern California, and many believe 
he is the finest in the world.  Doctor?"

"Thank you very much.  With my surgical team I am going to begin 
operating on Susan Jennings tomorrow.  I can't tell you how long the 
whole process will take nor how successful it will ultimately turn out 
to be.  But we are going to try like hell.  On the other hand, I will 
also say that this surgery should have been undertaken years ago, almost 
immediately upon her release.  What should have happened was she should 
have been physically built up from her starvation and then operated on.  
The probability of successful surgery was much greater then than it is 
now."

Mike Chapman took a deep breath and continued, "There's much more, 
though.  In addition to the scars that are so visible, I am almost 
certain that she is still carrying enemy bullets in her body from the 
day of her rescue years ago.  We have scheduled Susan for a CAT scan 
later today to confirm, but I am virtually certain right now what they 
will reveal.  We know Susan was hit by enemy fire just before she was 
rescued.  It now appears that the enemy bullets were never removed.  Can 
you believe that!?" Mike nearly screamed.  "They don't do that with 
murderers, for Heaven's sake."  His gray eyes were fiery as he 
exclaimed, "Do any of you care!?"

There was a growling sound from the assembled news people.  Evidently 
they did care, and some of them cared a great deal.  Meanwhile, a 
photographer had taken Susan away to arrange lights and reflectors to 
properly photograph the scars on her body.  When Mike introduced Rick 
Jackson, a newsman muttered to a colleague sitting beside him, "She may 
not have many friends, but the ones she has have enough horsepower to 
move an army!"

Rick got up in front of the group and said, "I first met Susan on the 
day Ginny - Marcia Matthews - just described.  I commanded the rescue 
unit that assaulted the camp.  It was I who cut her down from that 
cross.  At the time I thought I was retrieving a dead body, but when I 
reached her I could feel her heart still beating and then her eyes 
opened.  Since the evacuation was in its last stages and there wasn't 
time to get her to a chopper, I carried her to a cave we had found and 
had used to store supplies before out assault.  On the way back up to it 
I was hit in the leg by a nearly-spent bullet.  We reached the cave, I 
put a combat dressing on the wound and then spent the next couple of 
days just feeding Susan.

"Then, in spite of her own emaciated and feverish condition, she noticed 
that I had a fever.  Under the circumstances, I must have had a pretty 
good one.  Anyway, she examined my leg and prepared to operate.  You saw 
the picture of Ginny.  That is roughly the way Susan looked except that 
those cuts across her body were new.  There is one you may have noticed 
that runs across her breast that was nearly half-an-inch deep.  
Nevertheless, she operated on me one night using our first-aid kit and a 
gasoline lantern.  When I asked a surgeon about the wound later, his 
reaction was that it should have been reasonably routine for a 
well-trained surgical team in a military hospital.  When I explained the 
circumstances of the surgery, he said that under such conditions 
successful surgery was impossible.  It flat-out could not be done!  But 
of course it was."

Rick turned, looked towards Susan and winked at her.  He was overjoyed 
to see her wriggle with delight and grin back at him.  God, I love this 
girl!  he thought.  Turning back towards the news people he continued, 
"I spent the next few days explaining to Susan how our demolition toys 
work.  She put out all our Claymore mines and wired a road bridge with 
demolition charges.  Just before we were due to be extracted, a patrol 
triggered one of the Claymores.  The next thing we knew, we were under 
heavy attack."

Rick stood back from the microphone for a moment and shook his head as 
he remembered.  Then he continued, "What does Susan Jennings do?  Well, 
she blows the bridge.  As neat a job as I have ever seen, by the way.  
She blew off both ends and the span just dropped into the river.  She 
timed the explosion so she could take two enemy tanks along with the 
span itself.  Then she opens up with machine-gun fire.  I didn't keep my 
head down the way I should have, so I take a big hit with shrapnel from 
a mortar round.  My sergeant told me later that she went berserk and 
charged the enemy with grenades and an Armalite.

"When the detail arrived, they counted seventy-seven bodies, not 
counting the tank crews and the infantry carried away with the blown 
bridge.  When the choppers got us all back to Saigon, Susan was whisked 
off and I was evacuated back to Pearl Harbor.  That is all I know - from 
back then.

"Today, I found out a few more things.  Someone in Washington is out to 
make Susan Jennings' life miserable.  If you try to check her references 
- as one of my people did earlier today - the word is, don't hire her... 
for *anything*!  In fact, one guy tried to substitute an ex-con with 
three felony convictions.  So Susan is worse than a felon who is a 
three-time loser.  But why?

"Another thing," Rick Jackson continued.  "How was she court-martialed?  
Who certified her as medically fit to stand trial and participate in her 
own defense?  What were the grounds for the court-martial?  Marcia has 
given you that list.  What I would like you to do is this: There is a 
toll-free telephone number that we would like to have broadcast across 
the entire country.  We would like to hear from anyone who was in that 
prison camp over the range of dates when Susan was there.  The dates 
will be given to you.  We want to hear from absolutely anyone!  There is 
another phone number at which we will accept collect calls from anywhere 
in California or from overseas.  We are trying to rectify a terrible 
miscarriage of justice.  I have here a sheet of paper with all of the 
relevant names, dates, and telephone numbers.  I hope you will use them 
in your stories, and I certainly hope that you do a story on today's 
events and that the stories run.  Thank you for taking the time," Rick 
concluded.

While he was concluding his talk, Susan had rejoined the group and was 
sitting behind Rick.  When he sat down and Ginny rose to close the 
session, one of the reporters asked if Susan would answer a few 
questions.  Ginny looked at Susan who smiled and nodded her head 
vigorously.  Susan rose and took Ginny's place behind the microphone.

One of the reporters asked how she had been captured.  "I was in our 
operating room and something hit the roof," she replied.  "The next 
thing I knew I was in the POW camp.  I don't even know how long I was 
there before I regained my senses."  Looking around the area she asked, 
"Any more?"

Another reporter rose and asked, "Miss Jennings, Mr. Jackson says you 
were reported as going berserk.  Do you remember it?  If so, what 
happened?"

She grimaced and said, "I remember some of it.  I remember seeing Rick 
hit with the shrapnel.  I immediately decided that I didn't care to go 
on living so I might as well take as many of them with me as I could.  I 
may have been out to avenge Rick as well.  It was really a pretty stupid 
thing to do, I'm afraid."

A reporter from a TV station asked, "Susan, it's pretty obvious that 
your friends are working very hard for you.  In light of their efforts, 
what are your thoughts?"

"I don't really have any," Susan responded.  "Until a couple of days ago 
I was just wandering around LA, being rousted constantly.  Finally I was 
able to contact Mr. Jackson and suddenly everything changed.  It appears 
that I have some very good friends who want to take care of me.  There 
is really nothing more I can say."

The reporter followed up with another question.  "Miss Matthews believes 
you saved her life in the prison camp.  Do you feel that you did?"

"No, I really don't," Susan replied in a decisive tone of voice.  "She 
saved herself.  I did a couple of little things to try to help her, I 
suppose, but that's all."  Then Susan smiled an incredibly warm smile 
that instantly won over the audience and continued, "I remember vividly 
the first time I met Virginia Cameron.  She was in terrible shape - 
professionally, I gave her only hours to live - yet she could still 
crack a joke.  I said something stupid like, 'Haven't you carried your 
diet a little far,' and she came back with, 'I think I can still lose a 
couple of more pounds.'  That is an indomitable spirit we cannot afford 
to lose.  I just helped a little," Susan concluded.

The reporter persisted, "Did you cover her body with your own to protect 
her from the guard's bullwhip?"  Susan nodded.  "Why?"

"Because a whipping would have killed her," Susan replied.  "I thought I 
could make it.  And as you can see, I did," she concluded with another 
smile.

At that point the entire group rose to applaud while the TV announcers 
spoke quietly into their microphones.  There were few dry eyes in the 
crowd as they did.  In a short time the press had left and Ginny asked 
Maria to bring out more food for "the starving one."  Maria, who was 
close to two-hundred pounds, took it as a personal challenge to put some 
meat on Susan's bones.

The four were now sitting around the table beside the pool when Susan 
looked longingly at Rick and then said sadly, "Rick, could you do me a 
very great favor?  You have only seen me as a physical wreck.  Would it 
be possible for you not to see me for a while?  I've seen some of these 
plastic surgeons' work and it usually gets much worse before it gets any 
better.  I... I... I don't want to lose you forever, Rick."  She smiled 
at him warmly and he could see that her eyes were full of tears.  She 
was just moments away from breaking down completely. Nevertheless, she 
continued, "I must admit, though, you're awfully hard to discourage."

Before responding to her request, there was one question Rick had to 
ask: "Susan, girls have been making a living on their backs for a long 
time.  You used your body to help others survive in prison.  Why did you 
starve here in Los Angeles, now?"

Looking steadily directly into his eyes Susan replied, "There are two 
reasons.  First, I kept hoping, 'Today will be the day.'  I had no such 
hope in Vietnam.  Second, I have not been with a man since you."

As Rick remembered their one time together, his eyes misted and he could 
scarcely talk.  He just shook hands with Mike and kissed Ginny Cameron 
on the cheek.  "Take good care of her, please?  But I'm sure you will."  
Then he crouched beside Susan's chair and took her head in his hands.  
Turning her face toward himself, he could see the tears now streaming 
from her eyes.  Then he kissed her tenderly on the lips.  It was a kiss 
full of love and promise, and again he heard the bells.  Jumping up, he 
went through the house and out the front door.  Sitting behind the wheel 
of his car, he waited for the tears to abate enough for him to see to be 
able to drive.



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