Author's Note: This is the fourth Angel story and he needed lots of help for this mission. Even when I threw in characters from my previous work into the mix, we still needed more. I then reached out to other authors who had created heroic figures with a similar purpose. You will see a series of works attached to this story, all launching off the same assignment detailed in chapter 20. I can tell you we had fun doing it- Tyrone Slothrop
I Can See For Miles
By Tyrone Slothrop
Chapter 18: Land Down Under – Cairns, Queensland, Australia, October
"Do you have her location?" Angel; said, attempting keep the Paseo squarely down the left side of the road. Off to his left, Trevor Olsen grinned, waiting for the Yank to make a driving faux paus. Larry Elger sat in the back seat and slept.
Rolling north of Cairns, the major town in the north of Queensland, the Mitsubishi four wheeler was headed for the beach resorts in rain forest country. Angel had never driven right hand before and Larry and Trevor had indulged him.
The Captain Cook Highway winds past the shore of the Coral Sea, past beaches with tree cover, into the shift from open fields to hills and denser vegetation.
"Yes, we do. We've kept an eye on her ever since you asked us to. She's been doing small con, wealthy shithead marks, nobody gets hurt. Greedy sods who out to know better. And this part's rich, mate. She married one of us. A CD. The guy's really good, too. Looks just like Sigourney Weaver when he wants to. They use it in the con, saves them having another split.
"They are staying up in Port Douglas, and expect to meet their mark tomorrow on the Kurunda sky tram. A Middle Eastern type. Looks like you can do a passable Arab gentleman, Mr. Elger." Trevor said, knowing full well Larry was awake enough to follow along.
Angel pulled into the entrance for the Beach Lodge.
Breakfast arrived in the open air pavilion, soft sun lighting azure and turquoise water. Out there lay the Great Barrier Reef, then the deep deep water beyond. Trevor was delighted.
"You Yanks certainly have the expense accounts. Remind me to entertain you more often."
"Remind me to let AFP pay for the next dinner in LA, Trevor." Larry said, eating his soft boiled egg.
"Never happen, mate. Very stingy."
The Sky Tram is one of those semi practical things which all tourists must do, complete with a town as the terminus whose sole purpose is to separate money from people in a pleasant fashion. Kurunda sit smack in the middle of the rain forest, along a genuine crocodile infested river, and is rife with small shops and restaurants.
The Sky Tram leaves from a spot along the Coral Sea coast, a continuous cable of suspended four place cars, up from the flatland to the canopy of the jungle, up in the treetops. At the apex, it connects to another continuous loop down into the jungle, over the rivers and falls on into Kurunda. A great way to spend a few hours.
That morning the queue waiting to board the tramcars at the coastal terminus turned out to be sparse. Larry, wearing an expensive sports jacket and slacks with an open collar silk shirt, a mustache adorning his olive tinted face, his black hair combed straight back from his forehead, gold pendant around his neck looked the part of Abdul Aziz. He made a show of playing with his Serengeti sunglasses and studying the brochure while he waited in queue.
Angel was hanging on his arm, hair in a Trevor inspired upsweep, emerald earrings dangling, very large breasts straining at his silk blouse, silk pants billowing around his sandals. He made sure to wear flats to avoid being taller than Abdul, like any good woman hanging onto a rich man. Angel's face was obscured by large sunglasses and very tasteful but expressive makeup. He carried the typical large carryall women do on holiday, and had a sweater slung over his arm. His nails were red, well shaped but not very long. He wanted full dexterity for the foreseeable future.
Angel saw Victoria Prentille stride towards Abdul. Five foot ten, she was statuesque, beautiful in face and figure, and wore one of her trademark white pant suits. Her red hair was even longer now than the last time Angel had seen her almost three years ago, falling over her shoulders and caressing her ample breasts.
Trailing behind her was a very handsome man, slender and matching Victoria in height. Dark hair, cut short, with painfully pretty movie star features. He was dressed similarly to Larry, and carried the clothes with the assurance of a fashion model.
"Abdul Aziz? Are you Abdul?" Vicky asked in a melodic voice.
Larry nodded, with a dismissive hand wave to accent his apparent boredom.
"I'm Lady Prentice. Your agent said we should meet. This is my friend, Jean Claude Reneau. " Vicky put enough hesitation before the word 'friend' to indicate that Jean Claude was to be considered her play toy, not to taken seriously. She knew that needed to be established quickly with people from the Middle East.
Larry went through the motion of limp handshakes in deference to Western custom, but not firm since Abdul would not accord much respect to a woman, even one with a title, and less to a consort. He then looked over to Angel.
"Oh yes, this is my special 'friend'…." He emphasized the pause as much as possible, as if struggling for a name " Bambi, yes Bambi."
Angel made a mental note to give Larry a large ration of insults for the name, but admired how well he was playing the role. He had also asked Larry to avoid requiring him to talk if possible. He did not want Vickie to have a clue until they were suspended in the air.
Angel giggled and extended a hand to Vicky. After a brief touch, Jean Claude took the hand and gave it a tongue tipped kiss.
"So pleased to meet you, Bambi." Jean Claude bowed, a hint of a wink in his right eye.
Angel cooed. He was very proud of his airhead bimbo presentation.
Their meeting interrupted by the arrival of their turn to board the tramcar, they awkwardly entered the swinging car, holding on for balance.. Larry and Angel sat facing towards the sea, touching knees with Vicky and Jean Claude across from them.
The fantastic view once they ascended up the mountainside spread before them. The 767 jetliner appeared below their altitude as it made its approach into Cairns airport miles away. The sun lit billowy clouds stark white against the deep blue sky. The sea stretched forever, a limitless horizon, disappearing into a vague haze.
Even to jaded agents and con artists, the gentle swaying of the tram, the stark display of sea , field, mountain and rain forest, the visage of floating over it all was a sight to absorb. Nothing was said for the first ten minutes.
"Lady Prentiss? My factor said you had a spot of trouble which I could profitably assist you with?" Larry said in flawless Arabic accented English.
"Oh my yes, Abdul. It is Prince Abdul, is it not? Let us dispense with titles. I'm Vicky, and I was told you prefer Abdul. Is that acceptable?"
Angel admired Vicky. She had been a formidable adversary when he, with the help of Spider had turned her badger game back on her. Distraught from the dissolution of her marriage, she had begun to prey on crossdressers in San Diego, ending with them losing all their money and being forcibly raped. Because of the latter, her operation had come to the Group's attention. Angel had twisted it back on her, recovering her accumulated cash and letting her go with a warning. She had been watched by the Australian chapter of the Group since she fled the USA, and had clearly shifted to a more traditional and non violent form of crime.
He also knew he would have not met Carolyn had it not been for his mission with Vicky. He owed her that.
She spoke flawless English English, with not trace of her Chicago roots. A perfect presentation of very minor royalty.
Trevor had set up the introduction of Larry as Abdul into Vicky's confidence game. Some kind of 'you swap your liquid assets so I can free up my frozen ones and repay you twofold' scam, with elaborate hooks and switcheroos. Angel regretted he would not get to see the whole scam play out, he was sure it would be masterful.
"So Abdul, it is really so simple. I need to move that property in New South Wales but that silly codicil to the will is in the way." Vicky began.
Angel removed his sunglasses, letting Vicky see his face, especially his eyes.
"You are looking well, Vicky. And Prentiss is so close to Prentille. I'm sure your pitch is wonderful, but Larry and I have another topic." Angel spoke in a tone he knew she would remember. People he had promised to personally kill never forgot his voice.
Vicky did a quick glance and calculated she would probably not survive a jump from the car. Jean Claude looked perplexed.
"You! Why are you here! We made a deal and I've lived up to it!" Vicky said coldly, indicating a temporary surrender. Larry was pointing a Sig Sauer 7.62mm directly at Jean Claude.
"Yes you have, dear. I'm proud of you. Many of my missions have not kept their bargains. I have a favor to ask of you. A significant favor." Angel said, clearly enjoying the interplay.
"You took all my money and you want a favor?"
"You can have it back if you are successful. And it's more than you'll make off Larry here as a mark. He's nowhere near as rich as you thought Abdul was. "
"You'll give it back?"
"Less the long term care of the victims. You need to fund that. It's still a good chunk of change left over, enough for you and Jean Claude here to take it easy. Live like a real Lady for a while, or live comfortably for a long time."
"What do I have to do? And why me?" Vicky asked. She respected Angel, and trusted him to keep his word. She hated him, but she did trust him.
"Why is easy. The people we need to learn about have already tried to recruit you. So we are willing to pay well for very specific information. Which I will spell out over lunch in Kurunda. I am famished." Angel smiled at the sight of Vicky working the angles.
"You mean that weird scam about internet sex? The one they want me to pony up cash and attend some seminar on some island? That one? It smells. Plus it looked like the kind of thing you'd consider breaking our deal." Vicky said, watching Angel's face, now mostly hidden behind the sunglasses. Angel smiled and nodded.
As they rode down to the village, the pistol was put away and an almost detached, sightseer discussion kept them occupied.
Walking to a restaurant, Jean Claude approached Angel.
"You are fabulous, dear. I've never seen better." Jean Claude said, trying very hard to make it sound honest instead of his highly practiced delivery. Angel assumed it was a genuine compliment.
"I have my fun. I'm sure you're very good yourself. I hear you pass for Sigourney Weaver." Angel smiled a high wattage smile. He could see that Jean Claude, or Gene as his real name was reported to be, was a natural. He had the face and build to carry off an effective presentation as a woman, and was clearly gifted in the slightest touches of the image. A true compliment from a fellow hobbyist.
"Í have my fun too. My height requires compensation, though." Jean Claude answered wistfully. He continued "I want to thank you. Vicky may never admit it, but she has changed. She's been in therapy for a year, and is confronting her demons. I think you were the cause."
Angel nodded. He was beginning to think some of the lines around his eyes may have been worth the price.
Lunch in Kurunda melted in their mouths. Grilled barramundi with a salad. Vicky found it somewhat comical that she ate more food than any of the men. They were all so figure conscious it made her smile.
"Angel, I will do it. I have one problem though…" Vicky began.
"We will provide the 20,000 AUD you require. Call it a gift from Abdul Aziz over there. He seems quite under your spell. I would recommend you avoid his girlfriend though." Angel said quietly, sipping his bottled water gingerly. He set it down and began to examine his makeup in his compact mirror.
Larry smiled and passed an envelope over to Vicky. "I would recommend you use this for it's designated purpose, Ms. Prentille. We understand you must reply by tonight. Do you need anything to cover your outstanding bills? We want you to leave the mainland clean of people chasing you. Except us , of course."
Vicky looked at Jean Claude. She had a puzzled look on her face.
"If you could advance us 2000 AUD to cover our needs, it would be an interesting experience to actually pay our bills on the way out of town." Jean Claude laughed. Larry began to understand that he was far from the passive partner in his team. Larry opened his wallet and handed Jean Claude the cash.
"We found out you were recruited based on rumors of your past Vicky. All we want you to do is learn everything you can about operating a franchise for them, especially the control mechanisms. We will give you a locator beacon to trigger only if you need an emergency extraction. Don't use it unless there is no other way out. Go there, play on the beach, dive on the reef, have fun and pay close attention. And remember, they have already killed a number of people who have gotten in their way." Angel said casually, his hands fluttering, looking as if he were discussing hairstyles or the waiter's biceps to any casual observer.
"You'd do that for us? Blow the whole thing to get us out?" Vicky was shocked for a second, but maintained the image of light girl talk by smiling widely and touching Angel's hand.
"When you work for the good guys, there are some benefits. We don't abandon people."
Ten Days Later, Cairns, Queensland, Australia
Vicky felt underdressed. Sitting at the restaurant table with four stunningly beautiful men, all dressed for a celebratory dinner was unnerving. The tall dark hair Jean Claude wore a low cut sheath dress with jacket, hair falling provocatively over his ample bosom. Larry was Linda tonight, a curly pageboy complimenting a classic evening knee length dress. Angel was Bambi again, now in a floor length skirt with a full slit on the side.
Trevor was stealing the show. The diminutive body and the alabaster face with long shining raven hair caught everyone's attention, including the entire wait staff. His red sequined cocktail dress was amply curved, proportional to his five foot height.
Vicky loved what the afternoon at Trevor's uncle's salon had done for her, after eight days in the sun and water out on the reef. Trevor had seen her off the plane and demanded he make up the crimes that had been done to her red tresses. Angel made the trio which had spent the afternoon debriefing while being pampered by the salon staff.
"It was like one of those personal product sales seminars, the ones where you sell junk and recruit your neighbors to sell? The pyramid scheme?" Vicky mused while chewing on her steak. She had been eating seafood for a solid week and was concerned that gills would appear soon. Her audience nodded.
"It was a great place, a resort that they purchased just for their needs. The island is about seventy miles out, and sits right on the inner reef. The snorkeling and diving was fabulous. I believe they make money as a straight business on top of using it for a training base." Jean Claude smiled, nibbling on his prawn.
"After they got the money, they put us to work for eight hours a day, with presentations during dinner and into the evening. Technology, operations, the financing terms, security, talent acquisition, talent 'spoilage', how to link with central customer service, how to develop a unique entertainment proposition, making the operation hard to locate, all made for a full day." Vicky said with tired look to her face.
"Are you sure about the self destruct sequence? We need that one." Larry inquired with a melodic giggle to his voice, an eyebrow arching smile painted on his face.
"Yes. Jean Claude has the kill commands which disable it. There is also a master switch under lock which does it manually, located under the control console. You know, this PleasureJac thing will be a big business. And it's not so bad considering the alternatives." Vicky mused.
"We agree. But the players now would get it off on a very wrong foot. We need to redirect it a bit. And there are scores to settle. Maybe, when the dust settles, you two can open a franchise. Vicky, Jean Claude, thank you for your efforts. Vicky, I'm glad we could work together. We may meet again. I will be leaving tomorrow, to do some recruiting of my own. We need some more friends to help." Angel said earnestly.
Vicky stared at Angel, and was surprised to find herself choked up with emotion. She gazed at Jean Claude, who had stood by her though dark depression and wild temper. She looked at Trevor and Larry, both chatting to each other.
"I know our deal is still in force, Angel, but I'm better now. I hated you for a long time, and it's still natural to hate you, but right now, I think I want to thank you." Vicky whispered, tears running slowly down her cheek.
Angel held her. To the restaurant patrons it looked for all the world like two close women friends having an emotional moment.
Chapter 19: Red Clay Mirage- late October
TransTalent Headquarters, Reno, Nevada
Panic was hovering behind Adrian Beimbeau. Adrian was on a first name basis with it, and it had settled into his waking and sleeping hours like an uninvited houseguest.
He feared few people, but Ord Stonewell was on that short list. Lester Quarrel hid a grin as he watched Adrian's normal calm and efficient demeanor show cracks.
"That bitch at Junecellular still tells us they are having 'production problems' with the Impolecs. No one else can even figure out how it works, and those who might with time have been warned off by their patent attorneys. She has us royally fucked." Adrian moaned.
"I told you not to try and kill her, Adrian. It tends to piss people off. They have really good security, almost military grade. They fooled us good when they pretended to cave early when we did the threat on the kid." Lester mumbled.
"Stonewell has promised his 'seed money' investors we would be up by now with PleasureJac going on the market. He is pissing himself right now. And we are standing underneath him." Adrian was actually whining. Lester had never seen such weakness in him before. He began to worry for the first time.
"There is a guy who says he can get our 'supply problem' fixed. He wants to meet you face to face and I have him waiting outside. He's the real deal, does rackets on the coast, got quite a rep. I suggest you listen to him."
Adrian and Lester entered the conference room where an annoyed Spider Robertson waited. Despite having traded his leathers and denim for Italian silk, he still looked formidable. The two men with him were even larger and more lethal looking. The three of them could successfully replace most offensive front lines in the NFL.
"I don't waste time. Are you Beimbeau?" Spider said.
Adrian nodded, offering his hand. Spider looked at it and after a suitable pause, decided to shake. Adrian regretted it immediately, feeling the joints and cartilage in his hand compress to the point of extreme pain. Spider relaxed his grip just as Adrian was about to scream.
"I have been made aware that some people may have the kid. The one you tried to fuck with. He's safe, and the Junecellular people are talking ransom. I understand this could be worth something to you." Spider coldly intoned. He was dispassionate. This was business.
"I potentially have an interest. What would you consider fair for helping me?" Adrian, seeing a glimmer of light at the end of the long dark tunnel he had been living in, began to regain his composure.
"Equity. I want a piece of this place." Spider dropped the verbal bomb and waited.
Adrian blustered, bluffed, counter offered and used every trick he knew. Spider was unmoved.
They settled for a five percent ownership of TransTalent, coming directly from Adrian's own thirty percent. Contingent on performance of Spider's 'people', of course.
"One more thing, Adrian. I'm having a Halloween Party, and these toys of ours look to be fun. I want to bring a few friends here to get some playtime. Any problem with that?" Spider mentioned as he was preparing to leave.
"Sure, sure, whatever you want." Adrian wanted to get his new partner out of his sight. Wheels were turning already on how there might be an 'accident' on Halloween.
The next day, Adrian reported to Stonewell that production had resumed, and shipments were going out on October 29th. Stonewell grunted assent. Adrian had dodged a bullet.
"Do you really intend to transfer that much stock to that guy?" Lester asked. He only had three percent himself.
"He will never leave here on Halloween. We choose Trick for Spider Robertson. After his Treat." Adrian smiled.
San Francisco, California, October 23
Jezebel Clarkson surveyed the lobby bar of the famous hotel. Right off the California Street cable car line, at the top of Nob Hill, she had seen the exterior in countless movies.
She thought Alfred Hitchcock must be directing this scene in her life, and wished she looked as good as Grace Kelly. The mysterious email, the words which should not be known, the need to meet in a glamorous location all added to the curiosity she possessed.
Approaching forty, Jezzie was not far from Grace Kelly in looks, a little more angular, slightly taller , but she could be a classic Hitchcock blonde. She watched the handsome man approach. He too fit the scene somehow. Expensive suit, tall, dark hair with hints of gray at the temples, muscular but graceful, like a dancer, with fine features and a chiseled chin.
"Hello, Jezzie. I heard they called you Jezzie and you look like a Jezzie." The man charmed, offering his hand.
Jezzie felt a distinct warming sensation, starting somewhere low and working it's way up to her face. This man was very attractive, and oddly familiar. She took his hand.
"Bob, call me Bob for now. I was so happy to find the CFO of Promisense so very pleasing to the eye. Can I order you a drink?" Bob Angelo sat next to her, not releasing her hand. She did not resist his gentle touch.
"You're Bob Angelo! I heard you were…" Jezzie began, stopping as Bob put a single finger to her lips.
"I didn't get the memo, I'm afraid. I have some things to reveal to you, and some things to discuss. I guarantee you will find it in your best interest to listen. Some wine? "
"Single malt scotch, if you please." Jezzie said, still holding his hand.
"A woman after my own heart." Bob waved for service.
Western Desert, Northern Territories, Australia, October 27
The late spring in the Outback delivered blistering heat on the red clay surfaces. Trevor's fair skin was suffering badly while he talked to the stakeout team. The dust clogged his pores and every inch of his skin. He knew he had to see this place but sincerely wished he could have held this session at the Ayres Rock resort he had left eight hours ago in the Land Rover, somewhere southeast of his current position.
It has been said you could detonate a nuclear weapon or build an alien city in the western desert and the rest of the world would never know. Trevor now knew that to be entirely true. Miles and miles of rock, sand and sparse vegetation went on from horizon to horizon. The works of man were nowhere to be found. Dingoes, kangaroos, bats and various species adapted to the unforgiving conditions, along with the native tribes of men, dating back possibly 30,000 years.
A team of ten had positioned themselves within a mile of the target. The small facility had been airlifted in in pieces, a road blasted to allow supply trucks. AB Enterprises had arranged a murky deal with tribal representatives and some government officials to lease a piece of land.
Trevor tried to work out why it was so remote, and finally came to the conclusion that it's main purpose was isolation of the knowledge workers. Also, disappearing 'troublemakers' was fairly easy out here. The PleasureJac units were easy to transport by air and the place only needed water, fuel and food. All the high technology was done on the components at the suppliers, so this was primarily assembly and software. The satellite dishes indicated a serious uplink to low earth orbit.
"You have the latest code to insert once you control the facility?" Trevor asked the team leader.
The team was all former SAS, the Australian Special Forces. Desert living and warfare was their particular specialty, as exhibited in several campaigns in the deserts of the Middle East and Central Asia. The team captain grinned hugely and laughed.
"Quit fussing Trevor. We've got this one 'dialed in' as the Yanks say. Go back and enjoy the pool. I hear you've got some action in Adelaide coming up. Besides, we got Johnnie with us, and that kid is a bloody wizard."
Angel and Carolyn had generated a terrible fuss, but Johnnie, still recovering from his ordeal, still more girl than boy on the outside had shown that he surpassed any programming expert they could find. He had deduced the control systems for the PleasureJac and had been able to crack the drivers and software which drove it. What they needed done had to be done on the fly, and if a last minute change was needed, he was the best equipped. Angel had extracted a solemn pledge from Trevor that the boy would be totally safe.
Deferring the concerns about his future, Johnnie had settled into an existence as gender confused. He looked like a girl, dressed like a girl and seemed to adapt to the external trappings of being female. He had never surrendered his mind. Inside his head, he was a boy, a very mad and vengeful boy.
Johnnie was having the time of his life, learning survival skills from world class experts. The sheer fun of flying halfway around the world, seeing one of the most remote and strangely beautiful places and the fact that the entire mission depended on him had revitalized him. The lingering addiction was gone, easily shaken off. Watching him in the camp were two men Lady Jean had sent to make sure Johnnie arrived safely, and would have medical care ready at hand.
Doc Schlange's war had been in jungles and humidity, thirty plus years ago, but he was an experienced outdoorsman and possessed combat medical skills along with his specialty. Bobby Filler served in the same jungles, but was a denizen of the high desert, a rodeo cowboy, a marine and gas station owner. He had been a volunteer helper to Lady Jean, helping to rescue abused women for years until Steve Dunbar came along.
The two men, both in their middle fifties were leather tough. Johnnie thought of them as two grandfathers who would guard him with their lives. He had been adopted by a large family of fascinating people who did interesting and definitely weird things.
Striking back. Personally. That was the point that had convinced Angel, and then, eventually and with reluctance, Carolyn to let him be part of the plan. Angel knew how important that was to a victim.
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