Chapter 32

“That was a rough one!” said Brad Pittman as he and Tina returned to the hotel at the end of the day. They had been in Buffalo for two days of negotiating with a new supplier for molded and cast aluminum beams and blocks being shipped there by barge from Toledo along the length of Lake Erie.

The other company’s team had been trying to gouge as much out of J.A.M. as they could. Twice, Brad had almost called things off and left town. But, Tina’s presence in her role for this trip as his Administrative Support System, with her soothing touches on his arm when she saw him about to lose his temper, and with her judicious revealing of just enough cleavage to keep the other negotiators at the table, had saved the whole deal.

“Well,” Tina said in response to Brad’s declaration, “you sort of made it rougher than it needed to be, you know. You let that Mr. Carnes get to you too easily.”

“Yeah,” Brad admitted with a sigh, “but I did not realize until our second round today that he was simply dragging things out so that he could drool over how good your tits look in that outfit.” And they both laughed as Tina moved smoothly into Brad’s arms for a hug, followed by a quick kiss to the lips.

“Well,” said Tina, “a girl likes to feel as if she is contributing something worthwhile to these things, even if she is just a secretary with enough of a chest to impress the discerning male mind.” This caused both of them to chuckle again.

“Oh,” Brad said with a smile that was more sincere than teasing. “Don’t sell yourself short. You are much more than just a set of tits with a secretary attached. In fact, it is truth time for me when it comes to you.”

Tina’s eyebrows went up in curiosity. Sure, she liked Brad Pittman a lot, and she had gotten Don, her husband’s nod at being part of this new Administrative Support System program. When she volunteered to come to Buffalo with Brad because his own AA, Jennifer, was tied up with the start of the school year for her kids, Tina had actually anticipated having sex with the handsome Junior VP, Brad Pittman; something that had yet to happen at the sexually adventurous gatherings she and Don had attended so far in Middlebury where Jan and Brad Pittman were also in attendance.

One of the things that Tina had NOT been prepared for was just how good Brad Pittman was at business. Sure, she had watched her own boss, Gregg Collins, negotiate for things in the technical engineering arena all the time, but it was almost a foreign language to her. With Brad, she could see his smooth way of making even the most complex of business arrangements appear to be simple and even look as if they were more favorable to the other team, when they actually benefitted J.A.M. exceptionally well. Yes, Brad Pittman was definitely a star player for Mr. Morris.

As for the sex, Tina smiled to herself almost constantly over the two days and nights they were together for this trip with how well Brad had made her body sing when they had made love both nights.

That’s right! Brad Pittman did not just fuck; he made love, and left his partner yearning for more. It was a good thing that he was so much IN love with Jan and that Tina was so much IN love with Don. Otherwise, this could have the makings of awkward moments when they returned to Middlebury. Thankfully, they both realized that this was simply about business and sex. Neither wanted the complications of guilt or clinginess upon their return home.

“Truth time?” asked Tina, in response to Brad’s last statement.

“Yeah, truth time,” answered Brad as he twisted to cap off one of the mini-bottles from the room’s bar. “When I first got into management at J.A.M., I had to hire a secretary for the first time. I did not know one thing about doing that. So, I looked around a bit and, when I noticed how well you managed things on Gregg’s behalf, you became my role model for the ideal secretary. I based my decisions on just what I was looking for in a secretary ... on you!”

Tina actually blushed at this. “Brad, I ... I am truly flattered. I had no idea...”

“Well, you were just about perfect,” Brad continued, all the while mixing some Coca-Cola with the Crown Royal in two glasses. “And so I picked Jennifer as my secretary based on how well she matched up with you.”

Tina smirked as she said, “You mean that she has nice tits too?”

Brad stepped over and handed Tina the second glass and she took it. “No. I mean, well ... yes ... you both have nice racks ... but, seriously, what I mean is that you are both consummate professionals at what you do. Jennifer frees up so much time for me daily that I can actually contemplate and strategize the next deal on Mr. Morris’ behalf, without being too exhausted by all of the Administrivia; so that it makes me look more successful than I would probably be otherwise.”

He stepped in and put his drink-free hand behind Tina’s waist and pulled her in close as he said, “And I see that you do the same thing for Gregg. And, believe me, Mouse appreciates the fact that you allow him to come home with enough energy to take care of her as well.” He wagged his eyebrows as he concluded.

Tina chuckled and gave Brad a peck on the lips. She said, “Well, thank you for the fine compliments. We secretaries need to hear that more often, so that we can know that we are actually accomplishing what we got hired to accomplish.”

“You are NOT just a secretary,” said Brad, now putting on an airy tone, “you are an Administrative Assistant!” They both giggled at his silliness and finished their drinks.

Tina took the glasses and put them away while asking, “What do you have a hankering for when it comes to supper tonight?”

“Hankering? Supper?” asked Brad. “Are you from the South too, like Helen Morris?”

“Well, I don’t really know if Huntington, West Virginia is really considered the South, but I guess it was still ‘country’ enough for us to use those terms when I was growing up,” she said. Then she did a put-on cheerleader pose and jump, and said, “WE ARE ... MAR-SHALL!” They both laughed at her antics.

“Well, I get the feeling that we would be thought of as inconsiderate if we did not try that wings place around the corner. I mean; this being Buffalo, and all,” Brad offered.

“You mean that place with the waitresses in the short, loose crop-top outfits and tight white short-shorts?” Tina asked with raised eyebrows and a faux-innocent expression, causing both of them to snort.

“Well,” Brad said, now putting on a false sheepishness of his own, “I guess that may have played some small part in my recommendation. But, I hear they have really good wings, with varying degrees of heat in the flavorings.”

“Brad,” Tina answered with a grin, “my only concern is that you can generate enough heat when we get back here by using that wonderful tongue on me, as you did last night and the night before.”

Brad hugged her and laughed. “You take the bathroom first and then I need to avail myself of its use. The quicker we get to supper, the quicker we can get back here and...” here, he put on a yawn, “get to sleep.”

Tina pinched him, causing him to yelp. “Not before you rock my world at least twice, Mister!” Then she turned toward the bathroom while Brad ditched his necktie.

The attack on Matt and his family took place early in the evening on the Friday before Labor Day.

Matt’s first clue that something was wrong as he came into the house by the back entrance from the driveway was the degree of quiet in the house. He was used to Jennifer’s activities in the kitchen and the sounds of the TV in the front room whenever he came home at this time of day from work.

This evening, it was eerily quiet.

Matt was not alarmed yet as he hung his keys on the rack on the wall beside the refrigerator and then began to loosen his tie and unbutton his collar button. But, that changed when he walked into the den and looked directly into Jennifer’s panic-stricken eyes.

He did not have time to process more than the gag in her mouth before he felt the muzzle pressure of a pistol against his right ear.

“Just stay still and no one comes to harm,” said a voice with a distinctively Hispanic accent.

Cynically, Matt thought, ‘You mean YET,’ since he knew that having victims who were still able to see and recognize the faces of their attackers meant a probable death sentence for all of them.

Quickly, Matt’s arms were dragged behind him and he felt a zip tie tightening on his crossed wrists. Whoever placed it ensured that it was tight enough to cause circulation problems if it remained on him for more than a couple of hours.

Matt made a quick look at the wall clock and the front window, noting that it was just after 6:30 p.m. and evening twilight would be on them by 8:00 p.m. He realized that the chances for survival for any of them decreased as the time of their captivity increased. Whatever chance they had would now be reliant on his thinking of something sooner rather than later.

Before he could say anything, Matt was gagged in the same manner as Jennifer. Then he was shoved so that he needed to step forward in order to maintain his balance. Once he was farther into the den, he could see that Haley and Connor were also bound in the same manner as he and Jennifer were.

There were two other men besides the one behind him. Both appeared to be Hispanic, and Matt forcibly had to hide any hint of surprise in his expression that one of them was Fernando Gutierrez.

‘Nando’, as he had been known when he had worked for the same executive protection firm as Matt before being released after the Riggs fiasco, had an unusual smile on his face. It only took Matt a few seconds to deduce that Nando was on something. His glassy eyes gave him away.

The other man was harder to read. And the man behind Matt had not made himself visible yet.

Matt automatically labeled the men in his mind. Nando became Tango 1; the man in front of him was Tango 2; and the man behind him would be Tango 3.

Matt felt himself being frisked from behind. His gun and his cell phone were removed from him and thrown casually onto the cushion of an easy chair. Matt felt a moment’s relief that they had not removed his shoes and searched. Otherwise, they may have found his one hope, at the moment, for a possible escape from this situation – a small, very slim folding gentleman’s knife in a sleeve sewn inside his left shoe.

The third man, Tango 3, came around to Matt’s front and he could see that the man held the same firearm type that Nando and the other man held – the Taurus 709 Slim with small frame design, specifically built for concealed carry with no extra lumps, or angled pieces that could snag on clothing or a holster when you pulled it. They also had textured grips for maintaining a good steady hold when firing.

“Well, well,” said Tango 3. “The mighty Jack Ewing is now rendered helpless. Jorge sends his regards, and wishes for us to offer his special greetings to you, since he is otherwise detained at the moment.”

That confirmed in Matt’s mind that this was about Jorge Ortega and the way that Matt had taken him down a few years earlier. By Matt’s reckoning, the boy should still be in lock-up for another twelve years, barring some stupid ruling from some idiotic judge who could be swayed by some way-out argument from some group like the ACLU or La Raza to release the boy pending re-trial – at which point, he would bolt to Mexico and freedom under the protection from his Tio Renaldo; or maybe Renaldo Ortega’s younger brother, Ramon.

The blow was expected; so, Matt had a second to prepare before Tango 3 plunged his right fist into Matt’s gut. Matt folded over, but he remained standing. The second blow was an uppercut to Matt’s head that knocked him over, causing him to bang his left ear on the chair that was next to him as he fell. Matt saw stars and had trouble getting his breath after the gut strike and with the gag in his mouth.

Matt had fallen into a partial fetal position and it was a good thing. Tango 2 had moved within kick range and attempted a kick to Matt’s groin, probably in retribution for what Matt had done to Jorge’s nuts. The position of Matt’s thighs gave him partial protection for his package without much pain, but he bucked as if he were in excruciating agony so that maybe the guy would get the wrong idea and let up.

Tango 2 laughed out loud and said, “Doesn’t feel so good when it happens to you; does it, Maricon? I will make sure to let you feel more of that after we have finished with your puta and her little girl.”

Matt could not help the look of hatred that passed across his countenance upon hearing of the intentions of these three toward Jennifer and Haley. But, all that earned him was a kick to the kidney by Tango 3. As he looked across the room, Nando – Tango 1 – was grinning stupidly. Yeah, Matt thought, that boy is definitely on something. Maybe he is the weak link here.

Tangos 2 and 3 lifted Matt and then Tango 2 turned and grabbed the bound and gagged Connor. Dragging their captives, Tangos 1 and 2 pushed and prodded the man and teen boy upstairs and shoved them into the first bedroom they came to – Connor’s. They were tossed unceremoniously to the floor and the two men left the room with the door open, evidently to be part of the activities that they planned to perpetrate against the two women.

Matt’s head had hit the end table by Connor’s bed and he was stunned for a while. By the time he had recovered his wits, he was able to look around and note that it was dark outside of Connor’s window. At least an hour had passed since he had come home. Shaking his head to clear it, he rolled over so that he could see Connor.

The boy was still bound and gagged, but he was alert – and angry! Matt could see it in Connor’s eyes and understood, as he did not like being assaulted in his own home either. Listening, Matt could hear an additional reason for the anger on the boy’s face.

Jennifer – Matt recognized the sound coming from the end of the hall with his and Jennifer’s bedroom – was crying out in pain every few minutes; and there was the sound of a slap. Suddenly alarmed, he strained in an attempt to hear Haley, hoping that he would not, and that these animals would leave his new daughter alone. But, he realized that was a futile hope. They were sure to abuse her in the same manner as they evidently were Jennifer. He could hear the results of their assault on his wife and he expected to hear from Haley –

“You bastard!” came Haley’s voice followed by three loud slaps and the accompanying cries in response to them from the teenage girl. Matt recognized the proximity of the sounds as that corresponding to Haley’s bedroom to his right, at the opposite end of the hall from the master bedroom to his left, where he could hear Jennifer’s cries only too frequently now, along with the slap, slap, slap, of flesh on flesh as the men raped his wife and daughter.