Episode 36 Pomp and Circumstance (part 3/3) (Patreon)

Jack Routh

“Just no.” He replied in a flat tone.

“But you have to admit, being in close proximity to the contestants will give us more information.” Agent Angela Page, now using the name Angela Rose Freebush replied while her hair was being cut by a stylist. The FBI was taking the threat to the pageant seriously and had gone all out by tapping a veteran pageant coach and her team to prepare her for the one-week event.

“Just think about it, Routh.” Page added when he remained silent. The pageant organizers requested that he be a judge in one of the events in the preliminary rounds when they learned he was part of the task force. He knew they just wanted to use his fame to attract interest in the beauty pageant.

Garza, acting as the task force commander, did not reject the organizer’s request right away. DHS agent Jessica Russo even commented that it was actually a good idea. He knew she had a point, since no one would question his presence in the pageant, and most would just think it was a publicity stunt to gain more viewers.

The domestic terrorist remained silent for now, and there were no follow-up letters despite the recent announcement from the pageant organizers of the confirmed date for the coronation night. They still didn’t have a solid lead, and analysis of the letter showed there were no traces of DNA.

“I’ll think about it.” He finally replied. He looked at the undercover FBI agent with pity. She was currently being attended to by a manicurist who was taking care of her nails, while another was placing some green goop on her face that made her look like some swamp creature with foils attached to her hair. He couldn’t talk to her seriously with how she currently looked, and that was the reason he stared at a spot about a foot above her head whenever he talked to her directly.

“You find my look amusing?” Page asked. She was scolded by a beautician when she raised an eyebrow.

“Hilarious.” He grinned. “Anyway, I just passed by to let you know I’m done taking a look at the profiles of the pageant contestants.”

“Is there anything that stood out?”

“A few.” He replied. “The Fresno representative has a bad credit rating, and she's swamped with student loans. The one from Orange County has a record for trespassing.”

“That’s not enough.” Page frowned.

“The woman’s an activist. She and her group stormed a poultry farm and tried to sabotage the farm’s operations.” He shared. “She’s extremely passionate about women’s rights and a radical feminist.”

“Why would a woman like that join Miss California?”

“That’s the question. Is she here to sabotage the pageant?” He revealed. “We need to keep an eye on her too.”

He spotted a figure out of the corner of his eye heading his way and turned to the FBI agent. “Anyway, I’ll head back out.”

“You’re just avoiding her.” Page let out a laugh.

“She’s very… persistent.” He shook his head in resignation. The pageant coach the bureau hired was very demanding and didn’t take no for an answer. A former Miss USA a few decades ago and the current editor in chief of a fashion magazine, the woman in her fifties and constantly tried to engage him and kept trying to force him to attend fashion events with her, or appear on the cover of her magazine. “Anyway, I have to go check on the other candidates.”

He barely made a dozen steps when he heard his name being called. He put on a smile on his face as he turned to the woman with the immaculate hair, expensive designer clothing, and stylish Prada red heels.

“Mrs. Priestly.” He gave the older woman a polite nod.

“Jack, how often should I tell you to address me by name?” The woman smirked.

“Miranda.” He sighed and stuffed his hands in his pockets in resignation.

“Better.” The woman nodded in satisfaction. “Come, we have much to discuss about your role as a judge.”

“I haven’t even accepted the offer.” He replied as he walked alongside her.

“As if you would reject it.” Miranda scoffed and looked at him as she took off her expensive-looking shades. “You have to thank me for that, you know. I just whispered in a few ears and they immediately agreed to my suggestion.”

Devious. The woman brought in by the FBI was supposed to be an expert on pageants and the fashion industry. He heard that she was very influential, and right now, he was seeing her power and influence in action right in front of him.

“So what do you think about that Hugo Boss piece I suggested?” Miranda asked. She held out a hand, and one of the two personal assistants who constantly followed handed her a thick binder. She opened it to a particular page and allowed him to see the concept.

“I took inspiration from Tom Ford.” The woman shared. “Interested?”

“I’m not really a fan of the brand.” He explained. The woman acted as if he had already agreed to do an exclusive interview with her magazine, complete with an elaborate photo shoot. He tried to explain to her that he wasn’t interested, but the woman seemed deaf whenever he refused her offer.

No matter, he could just brush her off if she pushed too hard, though he had to admit that thanks to her manipulations, placing him as a judge would allow him a valid reason to be present during the duration of the pageant. No one would suspect that a task force was already present to ensure the security of the public and those participating in Miss California 2018.

He pulled out his phone and sent a message to Garza, agreeing to the organizer’s proposal.

“You have something against Hugo Boss?” The older woman asked.

“It’s brand tarnished by its history.” He explained. “There’s a reason the Wehrmacht had the best-looking uniforms during the Second World War. Even George Lucas, the creator of Star Wars, took inspiration from it and formed the Empire to match their color tones and general aesthetic.”

“Wehrmacht?”

“It’s composed of the unified armed forces of Nazi Germany, made up of its Heer, the army, Kriegsmarine, or Navy, and finally the Luftwaffe, their air force.” He explained. “The name Wehrmacht originates from the German words Wehren which means to defend, and Macht, meaning power.”

“I find it ironic that the Wehrmacht was used to invade other countries, despite the original meaning of its name.” He accepted the plain black coffee from Emily, one of Miranda’s assistants, as they both sat down at a nearby table filled with snacks.

“So, not just a pretty face.” Miranda smirked. “I think I’ll be the one to conduct and write your interview. It’s been years since I’ve done one, but I believe you’re worth it.”

He was about to open his mouth to reply when the woman raised a finger.

“I know, I know. You’re shy and you do not care about publicity.” Miranda snapped her fingers and a moment later her own personal drink was placed in front of her by the other assistant. “Emily, get in touch with Armani. Tell them to submit a draft to my proposal.”

“Yes, Miranda.”

“I thought the other one was Emily?” He asked.

“I’m actually Andy.” The younger brunette smiled. The smile vanished when the other assistant leaned over and whispered in her ear, and the two quickly left the area.

“What you’re doing is naïve, Jack.” Miranda continued speaking as if she wasn’t interrupted. “You can’t just ignore the attention you’re gaining. You have to manage it properly, or else it can drown you.”

“How?” He asked.

“Through carefully selected interviews and media appearances.” The older woman replied. “You did well to limit your media appearances. That first interview with that reporter in Baltimore was a good start, but you need something that leaves a lasting impression. This is where the exclusive piece with me comes in.”

He had to admit that she did have a point. The woman clearly knew what she was doing, and it would be stupid of him not to at least heed her advice.

“What's in it for you?” He asked.

Miranda smiled, leaned over, and patted him on the cheek.

“Darling, you’re one of the country’s famous sons with a heritage far older than the rest.” The woman explained. “And with your feats of heroism, thanks to your job as a police officer, you have the fame and adoration that the useless prince and his wife desperately crave and failed to get from the public.”

“So that’s the reason they’re here.” He mused.

“Like a pair of lost tourists in the desert for days, they’ll lap up any trickle of publicity like water.” Miranda nodded. “I actually find it distasteful, and I’m not the only one who notices that.”

The prince’s wife, a woman called Meghan, would be judging the Miss America pageant next month. Whoever won the state competition would represent California in the nationwide pageant, and it was strange for a judge to be present for the local competition.

“I’ll agree to your interview.” He saw the first genuine smile on Miranda’s face, ever since he met her. “But Zoe has to be there.”

“Naturally.” The older woman agreed instantly, and he could see the approval in her eyes. “That’s what a faithful husband should do in the first place anyway. Anyway, I have to go now and see if Miss Page can walk this time in heels without tripping.”

“She’s not that bad.”

“She walks like a frightened gazelle waiting for the lions to jump her at the Serengeti.” Miranda replied. “We’ll work out the details later. I’ll have Emily contact you later.”

He didn’t bother to ask which Emily and watched the woman’s confident stride back to their undercover agent as the team she brought with her avoided crossing her path.  He finally breathed a sigh of relief. That woman was the most dominant and intimidating person he had ever met, and that included a notorious serial killer.

She didn’t even have to raise her voice even once. Once she started speaking, the people around her shut up and listened. She just had this presence that screamed that they obey her instantly, like a medieval queen of old.

Zoe Andersen Routh

This would not do.

She wasn’t a jealous woman. If she were, she would have cut off friendships with half of her friends, seeing as how they each had a crush on her husband. She even gave them a gift on the yacht, and that was how generous and confident she was.

But this was something else.

She narrowed her eyes as women, younger than her and in skimpy bikinis, strut their stuff in front of the three judges. Jack was on the right side, and she could see from all the TV screens that most of their gazes were on him.

They smiled, winked, and a few bold girls even gave flying kisses towards him, practically ignoring the other two judges. As expected, her husband’s presence catapulted the state pageant to new levels. More news crews arrived, each one hoping to get an interview with her husband.

“Santa Clara County!”

She watched as the FBI undercover agent walked down the ramp, her blue-green bikini fitting her perfectly. She could immediately hear the comments from the agents from the task force inside the hotel room sitting beside her.

“Whoa! Is that Page?”

“Holy cow!”

“Damn, should have asked her out when I had the chance!”

Their woman on the inside merely smiled. She still looked nervous in her eyes, with her smile looking a little forced. Still, she earned a good round of applause from the audience, her toned physique making her stand out from the other contestants.

“Angela Rose Freebush is a Brazilian jiu jitsu black belt and is working as a kindergarten teacher.”

The voice from the announcer blared out from the speakers. Page gave a twirl and walked back to the other contestants and made a pose with her hand on her hip and a bright smile on her face, showing off gleaming white teeth.

An hour later, and the events for the day finished, she waited patiently for her husband to return. She didn’t have to wait long, though she noticed that Jack arrived at the room looking a bit flushed.

“Did you enjoy that?” She asked.

“Really?” Jack gave her a look. “Some reporters tried to ambush me after the event.”

She let out a small squeak as Jack engulfed her in a hug, not caring for the four FBI agents currently in the room.

“Jack!” She yelped when he felt her squeeze her ass for a moment. She breathed in his familiar scent and relaxed a bit as she returned the hug with one of her own.

"It looks like you had your own party here." Her husband noted.

She blushed and looked at the used food containers in the hotel room. She was a bit ashamed to use FBI agents to get her food, but they volunteered when she said she was going to the restaurant a few blocks from the hotel. It looked like she wasn't the only one bored during the hours of the surveillance operation, and they also didn't like the food served here.

Once they were at the hotel lobby, she waited as Jack validated their parking with the front desk. Just as they were about to head to the parking area, they were interrupted by two men and a woman with a folder in her arms.

“This way, please.” She raised an eyebrow as one of the men tried to guide them to a hallway by placing a hand behind Jack’s back. “Her Royal Highness, the Duchess of Sussex, wishes to give you an audience.”

Jack remained still, and she felt his arm around her waist slip off her as he confronted the two men and the woman.

“No.” Jack replied.

“No? But she instructed…”

“It’s quite rude of her to just demand a meeting without any warning.” Her husband replied. “We’re on a schedule. Please tell her Royal Highness that I decline her invitation.”

“But that’s not possible! The reporters…” The staff member argued back.

“Let’s go, love.” Jack guided her back to the exit, but they were once again stopped by the two men.

“Please!” The woman with the two begged. “This is really important!”

“We don’t care.” She replied in an icy tone, attracting three pairs of eyes to her.  “May I remind you that we’re police officers, and what you’re trying to do is bordeline coercion and kidnapping?”

“Besides.” Jack added and stepped forward, and looked down on the two men. “What are you going to do about it?”

The two men blocking their path looked at each other, shrugged, and stepped aside to clear a path.

“Consider this a warning.” Jack placed a hand on one of the men’s shoulders. “Clear?”

“Yes…. Yes sir.” The man nodded.

“The nerve.” She shook her head in amazement. “They must be really desperate.”

“Miranda did warn me about them.” Jack replied. She was still amazed that the intimidating woman, editor in chief of Runway magazine and private consultant for the FBI, was on good terms with her husband.

For the past few days, she was followed by one of the Emilys, named Andy, as they tried to prepare for the upcoming interview. The young girl was smart, a good researcher, and asked relevant questions about her and Jack’s job and hobbies.

She was there, acting like a personal assistant, as she met with Camille, Jack’s lawyer, as they hired a few more accountants and scouted new places looking for a viable office space.

“The interview will be scheduled next month, right?” She asked.

“Along with a photo shoot.” Jack replied, looking disgruntled.  “Miranda insisted on that one for us.”

“Andy told me we get to keep the clothes.” Unlike her husband, she didn’t mind the photo shoot, and she was actually looking forward to it. She hadn’t met the famous editor before, but Jessica Chastain did say she was very intimidating.

Once they got home, she jumped Jack in the shower, having passionate sex once again. Her emotions were in a state of flux, she was jealous, worried, and horny.

She shivered and moaned as Jack played with her nipples under the water spray. They were so sensitive lately, and even a light touch could cause them to stiffen.

“Faster!” She gasped. She loved the layout of their shower. With a seat designed in the wall of the shower area, they could have longer and more elaborate sexual positions. She moved forward, letting Jack slip off her, and pushed him into the seat. She adjusted the shower head so that it was properly pointed at the seat and slowly sat on Jack’s lap, facing away from him as she allowed his cock to slip inside of her.

She groaned in satisfaction and grinned as Jack started to massage her breasts. She leaned back on his shoulder, allowing her man to nibble and lick on her exposed neck. She loved this position since she could control the pace, and it was the most relaxing for them.

Jack was hers. All those women could smile and shake their tits all they want. He was her man, and his cock belonged to her cunt. She grabbed his hair, forcing him to look at her and spat on his mouth, and smiled in a show of dominance. She leaned forward and kissed him, hard, exploring his mouth and battling his tongue with hers.

They left the shower, both their skins wrinkly from being in the shower for too long, and after drying up with fluffy towels, she cuddled with her husband on their bed.

Miranda Priestly

Acceptable. At least the girl’s walk was leagues better compared to when he first started her training. Now she needed to work on her charm to work with the main judges for the state pageant if she wanted to go far.

She stared at Jack, the primary reason she had accepted the request from the bureau. He hadn’t had a real, proper interview with a large brand magazine before ever since the truth of his tragic past came out. The casual interview with that reporter in Baltimore was a good start, but that was just the beginning.

He came off from that interview like your everyday, humble man, without any airs or arrogance. From that moment on, she grew intrigued with the man and started to pay more attention to him in the news.

She was surprised to learn that her twin daughters, Caroline and Cassidy, were big fans of his music, and she spent the night with her girls on either side of her on her bed as they watched and listened to Jack’s songs that were available online.

When she learned that he was already married to a woman nearly a decade older than him, her interest grew. She saw the yacht party where the couple celebrated, a rare, yet to be released bonus video of the two that she knew would come out along when he launched his full album.

When she noticed how he behaved, surrounded by beautiful women, actresses, and pop stars, yet this man only had eyes for his wife, she became somewhat of a fan. And so, when the call arrived asking for some discreet help in one of their undercover operations, she leaped at the chance to meet him in person.

She brought her core team with her from New York, dependable, trustworthy and they knew how to be discreet. They were all eager to see the man of the hour, and so far, they were not disappointed.

She grew bored at the talent portion, as these twenty-somethings displayed unremarkable skills and let her gaze wander. Immediately, her eyes drifted to Jack Routh, and she stared at his profile. With his handsome face, he was born for the camera, and she knew his tall, powerful frame would be perfect for the fashion industry. It was both a pity and a blessing that he was so reclusive and obsessed with his job as a mere police officer.

Her eyes narrowed at the annoying, off-key singing by some of the contestants.

“What horrendous singing.” She heard Emily whisper to Emily number two. The rendition of Whitney Houston’s I will always love you by the contestant from Orange County was giving her a migraine.

“Like a cat in heat.” Her other assistant added.

As the talent portion had finished, she made her way to Jack, who was slowly being surrounded by reporters and other well-wishers. Besides the judges, the pageant contestants lingered, taking photos with fans and their supporters. As soon as she reached Jack, she heard a loud groaning sound, and turned around, thinking it was a malfunction with the sound system.

She gasped as one of the temporary scaffolding towers holding up the lights began to tilt and fall. People screamed and ran, but she stood still, unsure of what to do.

“Move that way!” She heard Jack’s voice yelling over the crowd.

She watched in horror as the metal tower started to fall towards her. She felt herself being grabbed by a pair of strong arms, and she closed her eyes in fear as a reflex. There was a loud crashing sound, and she opened her eyes a few moments later to see she was on the lawn beside the pool, with Jack Routh hugging her tight.

She realized that he must have sprinted to get to her, and with a strange sensation in her gut, she slowly realized what could have happened if he hadn’t acted quickly. Looking around, she saw the pile of wrecked metal poles along with the destroyed massive speakers. She couldn’t imagine what would have happened to her if she had been caught under that.

“Are you alright, Miranda?” She heard Jack ask.

“I’m… I’m fine.” She replied. She heard of the phrase of a deer in the headlights, of how one was shocked into paralysis due to fear, unable to move from the incoming danger. She fully understood the phrase now.

Around her was pure chaos, with contestants crying, and organizers trying to herd the public away from the debris.

“Miranda!” Emily ran towards them as Jack slowly helped her up to her feet. “Oh my god!”

She went to the other side of the country for a purpose, and in her determination to get what she wanted, she lost sight of why they were here in the first place and why the Bureau asked for her assistance. Could this possibly be connected to that threat?

It certainly looked like it. As Emily helped remove the blades of grass and dirt from her outfit, she watched as Jack examined the base of the fallen tower with an intense focus on his face. He looked up and met her gaze and gave her a nod, answering the question in her head.

The gentleman had struck again.