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 20: A Little Help From Friends, October 31
Beach House, Malibu, California
"You look like a total slut!" Carolyn said disapprovingly. "No husband of mine is going out looking like that!"
Angel smiled at Clementine, now busy with a blusher brush. She had perfected the 'expensive trashy' look he wanted.
"Honey, it is Halloween, you know. Just think of this as my costume." Angel laughed.
His hair pinned up under a banged, long blonde wig, his eyes a garish silver and purple, 'DD' size boobs exposed top and bottom in a ruffled black sequined dress with a deep neckline to his navel, a hem line which occasionally exposed the tops of his fishnet stockings and matching five inch 'fuck me' pumps, Angel had to admit he looked cheap.
Cheap, but not inexpensive.
"Are you sure you don't want this outfit when I'm done with it, Honey?" Angel asked sweetly, dodging the throw pillow aimed at his head.
Carolyn flopped down on the futon and started laughing.
"Well, when you say 'trick or treat', I know which one you really mean. What's your name this time? "
Angel looked thoughtful. "Robin, I think. Spider's little bimbo. We should be getting word from the Australian team soon, babe. Let's hope Johnnie can do some magic. As soon as that word comes in, we're off to Reno on the jet."
Angel's phone rang. After a brief conversation, he looked up.
"We got all the kids out of Mexico. Jean has set up a temporary shelter in Nogales for them. Some are in pretty bad shape. Still no word on the Ayres Rock group."
Western Desert, Northern Territories, Australia
It all came down to rolling the dice. Assuming no ultra devious self destruct mechanism or security they could not see, the Group team of former SAS made their best plans based on observation of movement and what all their sensors could tell them.
Nine men moved on the compound in the desert. Darkness was used for full effect. Team Captain's best guess was thirty workers, most of whom were in the barracks building where the mess hall and entertainment facilities resided. The assembly area and computer center was in the main building, barely occupied at this early hour in the morning.
Chains and locks were slipped on all the exterior doors to the barracks. The team did not want to kill everyone, just keep them occupied while they did their mission.
At the prearranged signal, the main building assault began. Soft thud like noises indicated blown locks and agents entered from several angles.
Surprise is the best weapon. Five of those on duty offered no resistance, raising their hands at their posts. One guard decided to go down shooting. He never got the chance as several bullets crushed his frontal lobes and heart.
Team Captain found thousands of components for PleasureJacs all lined up for assembly. They found the main server room and consoles.
"Cap Here. Are they quiet next door, Nine?" He spoke into his comm.
"We announced we were from the National Control Unit and they were to stay inside or we couldn't guarantee their safety. They're quiet for now. We have gas if they get rowdy." Team Nine. They always made up official sounding organizations for their operations.
"Screw it. Gas 'em. It should buy us the time we need. Cap out"
Johnnie was a brilliant computer programmer, but unlike the silliness you see in movies, a brilliant kid cannot crack a modern system of unfamiliar type. That takes experience with many generations of software and hardware , painstakingly acquired over years of work. Two agents, having found and disconnected the manual self destruct, were now penetrating the computer which housed the PleasureJac software.
Working from the information gathered by Vicky and Jean Claude, they had the clues to find the local destruct mechanism in the software and kill it. Now, peeling away the layers of security, they motioned to the Team Captain.
"Cap here. Bring him in. The senior citizens too."
Bobby Filler and Doc Schlange flanked Johnnie. They wore Kevlar vests over their camo fatigues. Johnnie's fit even with his large breasts, courtesy of a friendly policewoman who knew Trevor.
Team Seven, a piratical looking man with an earring and beard patted the chair next to him.
"Sit down, Johnnie. We've blown a hole you can waltz right through. I've isolated all the modules for updating the Jac drivers and found the control programs. Do your magic and when you're ready, Five over there, the little cobber, will blow your updates out to all the units as soon as they log into the system. Five, what's the status of testing this shit?"
Five stood up to his mere six foot height, six inches shorter than Seven. Clean shaven, he looked more like a geek, except for the combat vest, the extra magazines, the H&K MP-5 submachine gun attached to him through the magic of clips, clamps and Velcro.
"I've found a master Jac and a remote, which gives new meaning to the phrase 'male and female connectors' mate. After talking to Johnnie, I'm not putting Mr. Five into it for a test of his voodoo."
"I don't need a volunteer to test it, just one of you to observe and report. I'm loading the new drivers now. Is the local mode the icon on the bottom right?" Johnnie's fingers flew on the keyboard as he loaded a CD rom into the reader.
"Testing mode 1. What's the remote doing?" Johnnie asked.
"Just pulsing a bit."
"Now?"
"Expanding consistent with the master. Major erection."
"The safeties are now disabled. Now?"
"Oh Lord! That's Nasty! Bent 90 degrees down!"
"Hit the master with something, hard"
"Ouch! Those poor sods are going to regret this!."
"Good. Upload it. Did you set up the kill instructions for the self destructs at the franchises?" Johnnie asked.
"In and….. Up the link. We're done, Cap!" Team Five reported.
Team Captain sent the all go signal to Angel.
The franchises self destructs were disabled one by one as they received the updates to their control software.
Gulfstream G5 Central California Airspace, Destination Reno Nevada
Spider wore denim, as did four other select members of his gang. The three agents of the Group chose leather jackets and jeans. Angel, despite having half of his tits showing in the sequined dress, still had the air of command.
"We just got the go signal from Team Outback. Successful insert. I've signaled the ground teams to take out the franchises. We land in twenty minutes and let's get there before they know they are under attack." Angel announced.
Angel worried the franchise assaults. Every one was different, with unique problems. And he had made alliances with a number of others since the Group manpower, even with help from Spider and Lady Jean, was spent. He had spent a lot of resources in assaulting the manufacturing site in the Australian desert and had a lot riding on this one, taking out the TransTalent headquarters. Those allies were key to saving those victims.
It all had to be done before anyone knew it was happening. If word got out that the headquarters or a franchise was gone, the victims would be killed, probably by the self destruct mechanisms, or maybe just by a bullet.
The franchise teams had cased their targets and some had the best guess on who was there, the level of firepower and how many victims were there. Some were just blanks, only a location. But somebody had to try and save those kids. They deserved that much.
One thing was key. They had to disable the manual self destruct switch under the main console, before they did anything else.
"Angel, I will say, you're the sluttiest looking broad I taken out in a long time." Spider joked.
Angel pretended to take offense. "I'm the hottest thing you're getting tonight, honey!"
Spider laughed. "You know that bastard Beimbeau is going to try and kill us tonight, don't you?"
"I would be disappointed any other way. You better not lose my piece and get it to me when it hits the fan. I feel a bit exposed in this outfit." Angel replied.
Spider looked him up and down.
"Not a spare place to hide it, unless you can stuff it in your tits."
"Then I'd need two for balance. Just get it to me, Spider."
The engines whined, signaling the approach to Reno.
Franchise Takedowns- October 31
New York City Team, The Hamptons, Eastern Long Island, New York, October 31
Brigit Kelly hated the beach, especially in the cold October wind off the Atlantic. She should have been enjoying the seven or eight Halloween parties she could be attending in Manhattan tonight. Instead, she was here with her brother Jessie and five off duty NYPD guys, all friends or sons of friends of their father.
Sixty miles east on the south shore of Long Island, they were in the fabled Hamptons, one of the enclaves of the rich and fabulous. But mostly the rich and their entourages were fair weather residents, and October on the thin strip of sand which sheltered the bay and shorefront from the ravages of the Atlantic surf was no place to be when the temperature dropped.
They had met the fabled Angel a week before at a restaurant in Soho. Jessie and Brigit were a former undercover cop and district attorney, respectively, who now ran a unique male escort service catering to professional women in New York. Son and daughter of a New York cop, son and daughter of New York prostitutes, white and black, part Irish, friends and business partners with a gay couple, they represented the rich cultural stew of a great city. Tough and tender, cynical and sentimental, profane and poetic.
The trade they were in was in the category of mostly legal. They performed a service and did it fairly and honestly, which meant they were not causing a problem, so they were mostly ignored by law enforcement.
It did plug them into the street and street legends. The Group intentionally wanted the myth out there, the myth of vigilantes who avenged victimization and abuse of the innocent. So when Joey, their financier told them to take a meeting with the man, they did.
Jessie bonded with him immediately. The extreme metrosexual look was their trademark and many clients preferred their escorts totally en femme. Angel was traveling incognito, which meant he was posing as a woman. Brown hair flowing down, black skirted suit, soft leather jacket, his presentation was flawless. In fact, he looked like a typical client of theirs.
The story grabbed her heart, but she saw that it had grabbed Jessie in his gut. He had seen too much victimization of young kids on the streets. They understood the problem. Waiting for warrants and then threading this through the legal system would doom many children involved to a quick death while the evidence was destroyed.
They had a mail drop in Manhattan to go on. Six days to find the franchise. Then pull off an assault on the seventh. Halloween.
In most urban centers, but especially a town like New York there is a celebrity class. Media stars, old money party throwers, artists, publishers and the occasional billionaire. Light shines brightly on these people.
There is also the scum class. The killers, the drug dealers the, the enforcers, basically violent criminals both organized and anarchist. No light illuminates these people, physically or spiritually.
Between the two are the gray people. Neither light nor dark, never truly famous, never truly unknown. They operate enterprises where the two worlds meet. Club owners, drug middlemen, a variety of 'fixers' populate this world. If a movie star needs cocaine right now, they provide it. If a crime boss wants to meet a movie star, they make it happen.
Brigit and Jessie operated in this world. People come in all shades and degrees of lightness. This is why they could seek help from both the street people as well as friends in the police.
Brit Woljeski was gray. He had been light gray when he produced and managed sex acts years ago, but he had shaded darker as business became difficult.
He needed something to get him noticed, back in the swing of things. TransTalent had seemed like a divine inspiration.
Ready cash being a concept Brit never truly understood, he had signed on Bruno Posero to front the cash for the franchise. Brit would use his last asset, the house in the Hamptons.
Bruno Posero walked around with the self awareness that he was a caricature of every small time mafia boss in every movie ever made. He used that, and made a point to play to it. He had been doing it for so long, he had become it.
It was not wise to owe Bruno money. Bruno ignored the wise to focus on the very much larger market of the unwise.
Brigit was still shivering in the wind, waiting for Parnello to call with the go signal. The plan tonight had two parts. Parnello, a friend of theirs who was a 'respectable pimp', had pulled a favor and become invited to Woljeski's Halloween party. Brit had promised 'the next generation of sex' to attract the glitterati to his loft tonight, meaning he planned an demonstrating the PleasureJac. Brigit laughed. A Tupperware party for blowjob devices.
The second part was straightforward. Kick in the door and take out the two Russian thugs Woljeski had hired to run the franchise in his Hampton house. And do it before they killed the kids. They now knew there was a young boy and a girl there, both kidnapped runaways which are all too plentiful on the streets of New York.
The Russians were nasty customers, and the cops with her had no compunction about doing a permanent removal if they resisted.
New York City Team, Soho Loft Of Brit Woljeski, NYC, New York, October 31
Parnello tried to remember when Halloween had become an adult thing. He was fairly disgusted at watching grown people parade about in stupid ass costumes. Except for some of the women, they looked fine, but they would have looked fine in anything. Six foot six and three hundred pounds, he was one of those names people had heard in the city, and after they met him, never forgot him.
"It's costume only tonight, Mr. Parnello. " the diminutive rented servant challenged sweetly at the door to the loft. It was hard to keep a straight face when the man challenging you is dressed like a bumblebee.
A dim rented servant, thought Parnello, when the normal dismissive glare failed to move the little man. Plan B time.
"Look, white boy. This is my costume. Don't you tight ass fruitcups know a genuine street pimp costume when you see one? It's my multicultural heritage, you asshole. Now get the fuck out of my way before I make Bumblebee Tuna right here!"
The bee slid out of the way, thinking the job did not pay enough.
Parnello had had two of his people find the Russians who serviced the mail drop, and Brigit had turned the surveillance over to two off duty cops. Once they knew the Hampton location, finding Brit Woljeski was just leg work.
Getting the invitation was easy, Parnello was owed favors all over Manhattan. He surveyed the loft, and realized Woljeski had been taken to the cleaners on his art. Nothing notable, all stuff which was mostly sold to out of towners. Parnello shared an interest in art with Joey, the financier for Brigit and Jessie, and was a canny investor.
The guests were of the same class as the art. Garish, showy and not really even 'B' list. New York was a tough town.
Getting a large scotch, he wandered into the second room, which was somewhat darkened. There he saw a computer screen image projected onto wall. Bruno Posero was shouting out choices from the menu on the image, and Brit Woljeski was grinning, typing keyboard commands.
The girl and boy on screen took each command and complied. Licking boots was a favorite of the crowd.
"Bruno, hook yourself up! You'll love it!" Brit urged.
"Clear the room. I'm not no fucking pervert. I don't like people who watch me." Bruno said, undoing his pants.
Parnello did not object when the other guests were escorted out, back to the main room. They were all assured they would get their chance at the new toy.
Parnello opened his cell phone and called Brigit.
New York City Team, The Hamptons, Eastern Long Island, New York, October 31
"We're a go! Make sure you get that kill switch. Good luck, guys." Brigit said over the roar of the wind.
Jessie grinned, looking so very different from his usual flamboyant look in the black windbreaker covering a Kevlar vest, carrying the Beretta 9mm that had been his service weapon when he was a cop.
Mickey Boyle, fourth generation NYPD, son of a captain who had been the partner of Jessie and Brigit's dad, made his hand signals. He had promised Brigit to keep Jessie back and let the SWAT guys do the door kicking.
They had inserted a fiber optic lead into a window jamb, allowing them to watch Sergey and Ivan on a monitor. The two thugs were watching the same sex games being shown at Brit Woljeski's loft.. They were both sitting and drinking some obscure vodka at the console outside the soundproof enclosed studio where the girl and boy were performing for Brit and Bruno.
Sergey was lifting the vodka to his lips when the door crashed and the stun grenade went off. Known as a 'flash-bang" it was meant to buy the assault team precious seconds while the targets were disoriented from the light and sound. The bottle broke all the crowns in the front of his mouth, leaving a jagged edge where they had been glued. It gave him a vampiric look.
Ivan managed to pull an evil looking commando knife while staggering around. He growled like a bear and lunged at one of the assault team. Two shots and he went down, permanently.
Sergey furiously attempted to key the destruct sequence while trying to regain his vision. Failing that, he crawled under the console for the manual switch. A fusillade of firepower stopped his brain function and movement towards the switch.
"I knew those assholes would go down fighting. Pure mean shits. Should have been locked up long ago. Now the Suffolk County guys will have something to do when they survey the wreckage." Mickey said over Sergey's body, avoiding the pooling blood on the polished wood floor.
Jessie and Brigit were busy opening the door of the soundstage. The boy was kneeling before the PleasureJac, his mouth open at the intruder's entrance. The girl stood back, confused at what was happening. No one had ever interrupted a performance before.
Jessie, holding a sixteen ounce hammer walked up and whacked the PleasureJac. He handed the hammer to the boy. Too stunned to move, the boy froze, but the girl came up, grabbed the hammer and proceeded to slam into the PleasureJac repeatedly. Johnnie's new software had disabled all the safeties preventing personal injury.
New York City Team, Soho Loft Of Brit Woljeski, NYC, New York, October 31
The screams emanating from the other room were blood curdling. Parnello clearly identified them as coming from Bruno Posero, and began laughing as he dialed Brigit again.
"I think Brit just annoyed Bruno. It could be damaging to their long term relationship." Parnello laughed as he exited the party.
New York City Team, The Hamptons, Eastern Long Island, New York, October 31
The boy and girl secure in the cars, Jessie watched as Woljeski's house began to go up in flames. The four cars slowly drove away down Dune Road, towards the causeway back to Long Island. When they reached the bridge over the bay, he glanced to the side and saw the explosion down the beach. Flames reached high, whipped into a frenzy by the furious wind off the Atlantic.
He called the number Angel had given them. Mission successful.
Adelaide Team – Adelaide Airport, South Australia, Australia October 31
The props made the classic droning noise as Trevor looked out of the second seat in the King Air. Four Group agents filled the back, their gear jammed into the small cabin, adrenaline fever surrounding them like an aura.
This one should be quick, he thought. The lights of the city of Adelaide receded in the evening dimness in the side window. The mist and clouds hung over the South Ocean, hiding all aspects of their destination.
Kangaroo Island hung south of the continent, sitting as an outpost on the way to Antarctica. Filled with koalas, seals and yes, kangaroos, the sparsely populated island has some farming, some tourism and a quiet peace.
And it had a TransTalent franchise. A nasty one. Based on information gathered in the last twenty four hours, it appeared the 'show' involved overt sadism and torture. Nothing subtle. It seemed they burned through a victim a month and the current one was two weeks into the slow death.
Angel had been livid when Trevor informed him of the situation. Their impulse was to go in immediately, which risked the lives of all the other captives.
"Your call Trevor. You're on the scene." Angel had said.
Adelaide Team – Kangaroo Island, South Australia, Australia October 31
The door was off it's hinges. The assault was done. Two Group men down with bullet holes, but clean in and out flesh wounds. Seven of the opposition lay dead and deservedly so, that being the general consensus of the team. They had defended the self destruct tenaciously, and it had been violent. One of the victims had taken a minor shrapnel fragment from a stray impact.
The three kids, ranging from twelve to fifteen, all boys, had a collection of scars, burns and suffered from severe mutilation of the genitals. They were shaking like whipped dogs.
The PleasureJac unit had never been unpacked. Apparently, the audience participation in torture was enough draw.
The medic reported to Trevor. A helo was inbound to evacuate the wounded. They needed intensive care in transport and medical attention beyond what they could provide out of a field kit.
Trevor walked outside over the corpses of his two personal kills. The South Ocean was calming and he could hear the barking of the seals off in the distance.
"Get me the names of the subscribers. We're not done." The diminutive agent said to his second. This kind of evil did not belong in a natural paradise.
Chapter 21: Revenge Is A Dish Best Served Cold, And Sometimes It's A Buffet- General Aviation Airfield, Reno, Nevada, October 31
"Are we ready with all the families?" Angel asked George Romany, who had been coordinating preparations in Reno.
"Yes, Angel. All a go. You can go in now. And I must say, you make a really slutty bimbo. I suspect it may be the real you." George said, attempting to break the tension.
Angel knew it was a performance, all missions were a performance. His just happened to be more dangerous than most actors encounter.
"Carolyn put you up to that, George. I think she secretly likes this look." Angel smiled, and shook his hand. George hugged him.
"You come back to us now. We could just blow this place up, you know."
"No collateral damage. I just want the real bastards, George." Angel turned and joined Spider and his group, who were busily getting as much whiskey and beer smell on themselves as they could.
Angel took the pill George gave him. He began to feel slightly dizzy, but was able to shake it off after a few minutes. Spider attached a dog collar to Angel's neck and handed the attached leather leash to one of his men.
"Remember, Angel, it's not personal, just business. Freddy there wants you to promise him you won't hold it against him." Spider said. Freddy looked on with a puppy dog look on his face, a real feat since he was covered with scars and tattoos.
"Freddy, it's ok. This was my idea. Just don't snap my neck, alright?" Angel grinned.
Freddy smiled and gave the leash a gentle tug, jerking Angel's head sideways, his blonde tresses snapping around.
They piled into two limousines and sped off to TransTalent. Dusk was settling in as the sun dipped behind the Sierras.
TransTalent Headquarters, Reno, Nevada, October 31
Adrian Beimbeau paced back and forth in front of Lester. Lester blew smoke rings from his cigar, broken by the draft from Adrian's movement. It annoyed him.
"Can you take these guys, Lester? Do we have enough guys?" Adrian fretted.
"Will you fucking relax, Adrian? I have a shift and a half coming in right now. Twenty good men. You talk, they have their fun, just postpone any business until they leave. They never get out alive, Capisce?" Lester grunted in his trademark mumble.
The speaker informed them that the guests were arrived. Spider Robertson plus seven guys, and some bimbo.
"Send them to the recreation room. Make them happy, kiss their ass, and start pouring the booze. Tell them I'll join them in a few minutes. "
Lester opened his drawer and laid out several lines of coke for Adrian. Party time for the boss.
Sniffing the residue, Adrian motioned. "Come on, Lester, let's go."
Spider gave his men the go ahead to start drinking as Adrian entered the room with Lester in tow. The place was comfortably furnished, more like a hotel suite than a corporate location. Couches, stuffed chairs and a fireplace in one area, a mahogany bar with stools in another, several large screen televisions showing highlights of Promisense's better pornography, and a large buffet laden with hot and cold dishes. A huge tub of iced beer conveniently located on the floor. Cigars, cigarettes, thick joints and snuff boxes of cocaine were laid out next to the potato salad and roast beef, along with a candy tray of Viagra.
"Spider, how good to see you again!" Adrian said with his best salesman sincerity.
Spider laughed and motioned at Freddy. The giant man stood and dragged a gasping Angel over to Adrian by the leash.
"I have a present for you, Beimbeau, to show you my good will. This is Robin. But he used to go by the name Angel. He's the one you tried to kill and fucked up doing it. If we have a good time here, he's yours. He's a little more docile now." Spider said, trying to play the magnanimous gangster. He hoped it was a good show, since he had never seen one.
Adrian looked at Angel. The eyes were dilated wide open, he was twitching and had that far away look junkies get. George's magic pill. Angel got down and started grabbing at Freddy's knees.
"You promised I could have another! It hurts! You promised!" Angel whined.
Spider nodded and Freddy opened his jacket and removed a small black case. Opening it revealed two hypodermics, loaded with a brownish fluid. He took one, held it up and tested it with a squirt, and then injected it into Angel's waiting arm.
Angel relaxed and sat quietly on the floor.
"I take threats to my minority interest seriously, Adrian. Angel here also gives very good head now. That's something for us all to look forward to." Spider laughed.
Adrian stepped back. Lester stepped forward, his CZ Luger pulled out.
"I'll do him here, boss." Lester said coldly.
Adrian looked at Spider, and then looked at the drawn weapons pointed at Lester.
"Hold off Lester. Spider here said we had to show him a good time first. Let's be gracious hosts."
Lester reluctantly holstered his weapon. Adrian began to set up the PleasureJac master unit on the coffee table, connecting cables to the hidden network jacks in the table leg. He handed out the remote units to Spider and four of his men.
"Connect these to the network plugs around the room. Keep your eye on the screen."
A flat 100 inch crystal rectangle came to life and in the image a girl waited, looking up at them, the protuberance of a PleasureJac phallus entering the frame of the picture right in front of her.
"Mr. Beimbeau, this is Marge in customer service. We are having trouble with some of the transmissions." Marge's voice came over a speaker.
Adrian picked up his phone and answered "Just holiday internet problems. I'll end to it later. I am not to be disturbed now."
"Problems in our business, Adrian?" Spider asked.
"Nothing unusual. The Internet is far from perfect. Now, since we are all hooked up, sit back and relax, if you can." Adrian recovered. He keyed a sequence on the pad next to the master unit on the table.
Spider felt every tongue stroke the girl did on screen. It was strange, watching the entire room reacting to her efforts. Synchronized grunting. Adrian watched Spider while allowing his lower half to enjoy the fun.
Five minutes later, Spider removed the PleasureJac sleeve.
"Adrian, I knew this would be a good business. Let me pour you a drink before you unwrap your present." Spider said. The crowd began to relax and laugh. Angel was holding a pillow, slowly nodding on the floor next to Freddy.
An hour later, Lester decided he needed to check on the security guards. As he got up to leave, Spider grabbed his shoulder and set him down.
"Don't go Lester, it's time for Adrian to get his gift. Adrian, I told you we've trained this little slut here to perform, and now I want to show you. Put on the Jac thing and turn on that plastic prick on the table." Spider said.
Adrian stumbled over and set up the master unit to transmit. He slid the sleeve on and stood up over Angel.
"Give it to me, bitch. Maybe I'll let you live a little longer. I can have the Jac give you your fix, you know, if you are real good." Adrian bellowed.
Angel looked up. Adrian was already erect. Angel grabbed the PleasureJac unit and proceeded to stroke it with his hand, feeling Adrian's responses by having it extend and take on solidity.
"Use your mouth, bitch!" Adrian screamed. Spider grinned.
"In your dreams, asshole." Angel said as he squeezed the plastic phallus tight and bent it halfway.
Adrian screamed and the pain prevented him from even reacting to watching Lester's head twisted sideways and then dangle off his body, neck snapped.
"Kill them now! Security!" Adrian squealed, assuming that Lester's armed men were ready.
"They are not there, Adrian. One of the problems of being semi legitimate is you hire legitimate people. We explained to most of the security people and their families what was going on and they agreed to step aside when we came in. The last five diehards are probably dead by now. We own this building.
"Now that must have hurt like hell, Adrian. Does this?" Angel hit the master with a pistol butt handed to him by Freddy, who had detached the collar.
Adrian saw bright lights as the room faded.
"You are an evil piece of shit, Beimbeau. And you should be happy to know that the picture of your body will serve as a warning to future Beimbeaus." Angel said. He took the ceramic blade which had been taped to his hip and held it up. He then surgically removed Adrian's genitals, still wrapped in the PleasureJac sleeve. Adrian collapsed onto the floor, allowing Angel to stuff the bloody mass into Adrian's mouth while he fired a shot into Adrian's heart. The former president of TransTalent lay still while one of the Group members took a series of digital photographs of his last corporate pose.
George Romany entered the room.
"Show's over, George. Tell all the employees to go home and shut off the incoming phones. Let them know they will hear from the corporate parent. Make sure no one sees any of us. I assume all security video is ours? And all the computer files?" Angel said, his pupils slowly getting back to normal.
"You got it Angel. And all the franchise teams are reporting in. We have some wounded, but it looks good on the whole. We'll know more soon."
Sitting on a sofa, he switched off the porn with the remote control. He removed the wig and looked down at his huge blood splattered breasts. He began trying to wipe them off with his hands, only serving to smear more red over his front. His body started to shake with a noticeable palsy.
The Face came out. The exaggerated make up, the perfect teeth, the overpowering scent. Angel heard her taunts, her rants, her destructive description of the small, bound twelve year old boy screaming as she touched him with the cattle prod. Frank was gone. Angel was alone.
"Happy Halloween, Adrian. Trick or Treat?" he spoke to the corpse on the floor, his voice high pitched and uncertain. He fell against a wall, slumping to the floor.
Spider was the first to notice Angel was nearly catatonic, not responding to any stimuli.
"Get George! Now! " He yelled at the two men nearest the door.
Chapter 22; The Show Must Go On
Board Room Meeting – Promisense Headquarters, Lake Tahoe, Nevada- November 2
Blondes are powerful in red. Jezebel Clarkson felt powerful, more than ever before. She strode forcefully into the Board Room, where a puzzled group of board members had been hastily assembled.
Ord Stonewell, the Chairman of the Board was not there. She expected him any minute.
"Ms Clarkson, this is highly irregular. I had to cancel several things on my schedule…" began an elderly gentleman who only did his minimum duty and took full advantage of his honorarium and complimentary status at Promisense establishments.
"Mr. Muckle, and the rest of you. Let me begin. We have called this emergency session to inform you of serious violations of corporate ethics and the charter, as well as illegal activity on the part of the Chairman and another officer of the corporation, Adrian Beimbeau. The evidence is in your dossiers in front of you and I will begin the slide show to let you see the evidence in the possession of several law enforcement and regulatory agencies. " Jezzie said as she dimmed the lights and began showing a series of pictures of the victims, the 'disposal' process, and the recovered children from Mexico.
She narrated a story of the runaway division, the illegal activity and Ord Stonewell's complicity.
Ord Stonewell entered the dimly lit room.
"What is going on here! I just heard about some 'emergency board meeting'! Clarkson, what is this shit?!" He sputtered.
A picture of Adrian Beimbeau last corporate pose lit up the wall.
"You are out as chairman , Stonewell. Your 'investors' are furious at you and the ones who were able to sell their shares from their hospital beds have given my consortium a majority. Your proxies were quite handy, Ord." Jezzie smiled.
"Where would you get the financing to do this? You can't…."
Jezzie indicated that the two security people were to grab Stonewell and escort him outside.
"I found out I have friends in high places, Ord. Angels you might say. I understand the FBI is just one of the agencies waiting for you outside. You almost brought this corporation down and we aren't going with you. Take him to the door and throw him out if he resists." Jezzie said with a fierceness in her tone that surprised everyone.
She continued. "Now the rest of you can tender your resignations tomorrow. There will be a new board constituted right after that."
They all watched Ord Stonewell being frog marched out of what had just been his kingdom.
Private Office- Promisense CFO
Later, in her office, Jezzi found Bob Angelo waiting. After closing the door, she grabbed him and planted a long and sensuous kiss on his lips while grabbing his buttocks with both hands.
"I did it! It's like the Wizard of Oz! Ding Dong!" She said, bubbling uncharacteristically.
"Yes you did. Now do we have a deal?" Bob smiled, enjoying her exuberance.
"Absolutely! With that Delacourt money you brought in, we can clean this operation up, and get it out of the sleazy stuff. And fund the activities necessary to police the PleasureJac technology to prevent the abuses. Yes, Bob, we have a deal!"
Bob returned the embrace and the kiss with passion. Jezzi began to take her shoes off.
Chapter 23: I Want To Believe- Washington DC. November 20
File Report- Federal Bureau Of Investigation
The following report has been reviewed and stands as reported and not accepted. No other report has superceded this document to date. The agents observing the scene refused to offer any explanation beyond this report, which contains excerpts of electronic surveillance placed in the vehicle of the unknown agency which took custody of the target, Mr. Ord Stonewell.
The first two agents to meet Ord Stonewell outside the building took him in their control and placed him into a waiting car. For some reason yet to be ascertained , the other agencies (FBI, IRS, Nevada Gaming Commission, Nevada State Police, Reno Police) held position at a distance of 100 meters and ceded the subject to these two unidentified agents.
As the car drove away, Stonewell was seen to be in the back seat with a tall, blonde woman in a tightly fitting red suit who strongly resembled Marilyn Monroe. The two agents occupied the front seat.
Stonewell: "Ahhhhh! My essence is shrinking!".
Woman in back seat: "Ord, you have been a very bad boy. Bringing this kind of change here. It took us many coincidences to help the locals defeat you. Now we're going back."
The car is heard to stop. It is assumed it was parked and the engine shut down.
Woman in back seat: "Well done you two. It's so good to see you two together again, Jim and Sharon! "
Sound on tape: "Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! "
The car was recovered by the FBI twenty minutes later. There were no traces or clues of any kind.
Ord Stonewell has never been found.
End Report- recommend designation "Anomaly"
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