In a voice tight with emotion, he said, “I feel guilty about having been given credit for killing that terrorist. I tried to deny it, but nobody listened. The guys who identified me won’t look me in the eye. They know that it was your kill, not mine.”Hating to be reminded of that day, Mike said, “They needed a hero and you were chosen to play that role. Don’t feel guilty about that. You played the role well and I thank you for that. The President feels that Homeland Security is the cause of all the terrorism. We aren’t supposed to interfere in local matters. I wasn’t supposed to be there. We are supposed to sit back in our offices and give warnings rather than be involved.”“That sucks,” the policeman said.Mike laughed at a phrase that had become all too common amongst those who were charged with protecting the American people against those who wanted to harm them. He asked, “Who are you voting for?”“Anthony Archer,” the cop answered with a grin. He added the campaign slogan, “He’s. "It's funny, you know -- how we've never talked about it since then." Ellie nibbled nervously at her lip as she studied her sister. Taking a deep breath, she spoke. "I was watching your ass move all night while you were walking around... all I could think about was how much I wanted to touch it." Her voice faltered, but she soldiered on. "I... I wanted to take you into the basement and feel you up." Sally arched an eyebrow. "Wow... you really have been giving this some thought, haven't you?" Her heart was now throbbing steadily, and there was a restless warmth building between her legs. She shifted in her seat, murmuring, "It's been a long time..." "It has," Ellie sighed wistfully. They sat silently for a long moment, listening to the whispery caress of Miles Davis' trumpet, sipping at their wine. "So, El... let me ask you something," Sally finally said, setting her glass down. "What?" She gazed evenly at her sister. "If I was to pull up my skirt and take off my panties... would you.
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