Chapter 3: Another Mental Meeting

“Yes, Sir David, Hank did have an intrusion last evening, and yes, he did have some Fae assistance in ending it. We have memory crystals of the event from Hank, the Ogre, and my staff warlock to review and to factor in any report. It appears, however, that the intrusion was handled discreetly, with no injuries to any innocents, and that the associated personal contacts will be managed as quickly as possible. What disturbs me most is that there is an Ogre in residence as part of the security offering from the Fae, and that this is the third attempt to bring Hank in for some type of interrogation. Peter is here and he acted as part of the clean-up, and so I will ask that he answer any questions.” Reggie said. “Ok, Peter. The floor is yours.”

“Ok. Sir David and anyone else out there listening, we did have an invasion last evening. Four men broke in, with two additional in overwatch across the street. They came in through the rear loading area and broke down the door to the lounge where the wellspring is located and where Hank was sitting doing homework. He usually does homework there while gathering and storing energy from the ley line access that we structured there. Often, he diverts energy to new or artifact crystals while waiting. The two barged through the door after using a door entry tool to gain entrance. Two other humans took up guard position to protect the entry team. They saw Ogrenaut who said to them to stop and not damage the door, and who then moved to stop them from damaging the entrance and seize Hank. None of these agents identified themselves.”

“So, they were in effect armed burglars?” Sir David said. “Identification of themselves?”

“None. Their reaction to being approached was to open fire on Ogrenaut. I counted twenty-seven bullets that had been deflected and had fallen on the floor when they tried to disable Orgenaut. If he hadn’t been wearing the Shield Crystal that Hank insisted that he wear, he possibly would have been seriously injured. Or at least his ire would have been aroused and the damage would have been more evidentiary.” Peter continued.

“Peter”, Sir David asked” Do you feel that the use of an Ogre in a position of a security guard is a wise choice?”

“Sir David, I have worked with Ogrenaut for over two weeks. He is a wonderful person, almost childlike in his manners, extremely respectful of Hank and me and everyone else. He a natural butler. He’s always right there when you need him and is cheerful and helpful and a true guest. And the finest mover of furniture and crates I have ever met. He knows where each and every single thing in the warehouse is, all of the comings and goings, and Paula Olsen tells me that he manages change in tasks better than any of the hired help she had in Atlanta or in Augusta. And he’s only seven feet tall. His guise works very well.”

“That’s awfully small for an Ogre, isn’t it?” Reggie asked.

“He says he is the runt of his mothers’ family. He admits being picked on a little at home, and absolutely loves the treatment he gets here. Hank brought him in from Arno’s Royal Guard to originally guard the gateway, but since he has come through to here, he has been the Building manager, Door Man, Waste Manager, and general building supervisor. Everyone, human and Mage and Wizard loves him. Even the unknowing humans on the third floor think he’s the best thing we have ever gotten.”

“I suppose this means you are not in favor of sending him back to where he belongs.” Sir David stated.

“I think he is working very hard to belong here and it would be criminal in our intent if we forced him to leave. And that Hank has already said he’s staying.” Peter replied.

“But he’s an Ogre. Surely that is a disturbance by itself.”

“Sir David, Ogrenaut is an Ogre. He is also one of the most patient, polite, and inoffensive beings I have ever met or worked with. He banged the heads of the two a little harshly, but they were in the way of him moving to protect Hank Lambert. They attempted to incapacitate him and do him harm. He was acting in self-defense. I recommend that he stay, and I believe that Hank will as well.” Peter said with finality.

“Well, Reggie, I have to say that you have another cat among the pigeons. In all the time we have had any experience with the Fae, I do not recall any story of any of them acting to protect a Mage or a Wizard. What is Hank going to do next?”

School was a bit of a strange experience. Again. Chemistry for Business Majors was not the normal chemistry. We were told to assume that the students who wanted to be chemists would be so, and that our primary business focus was to manage expenses, supply chains, and inventory management. We were also told that we had to focus on the commercial attraction of the products being manufactured or researched. That led into the stuff from PMI about “The responsibilities of Project Sponsors in business”. This was a totally different focus from normal high school, but it did make more sense. I had no desire to do chemistry. I had completed my athletics requirements last year, and I was tone deaf. (Sort of.) So that left business classes. And I did a double up on those taking everything from Office Management to typing. Lunch was a lot more fun.

“Hank, when are we going to go back to Augusta?” my girlfriend Bernie asked. “We haven’t been there in such a long time.”

“Yea, Hank, when are we going back to Augusta?” Lynn chimed in. “We want to do some fine dining on Broad”.

“You just want to go shopping with Paula again. Last time you guy ran up over eight hundred dollars in shoes.” Hank said with a shake of his head.

“Naw. We want to check out the stuff that Yana Marenko is doing. The stuff she sent with photos looks Great. Can we work in her shop when she gets open?”

Thank God, I thought to myself, that I had a lot of financial backing from the stones I had already sold and shipped. Women and shopping are the death to credit cards all over the world.

“Girls. Remember, we have to make sure Yana makes a good living off of what she produces. That means we have to make sure she makes profit off of her stuff.”

“Can we do a Model Fashion show for her in Augusta? Over the Memorial Day holiday?” Lynn asked. “I think a lot of women would like to do that to see what we have to offer.”

“Let’s see how far we are with the reconstruction and maybe we can do a showing then. I’m sure the mayor would love downtown high-end shows.” I replied.

The afternoon was interesting. We had our mandatory Art Class right after lunch, Watercolors, and paints. The biggest value in the lecture was the talk our teacher did about paint formulation. Her talk about the different components of pigments and the changes through the centuries was fascinating.

Art was a funny class. Almost all women and just me and one other guy, and the questions and answers were all very intelligent. It was funny to think that my interests had grown in that arena so much in only a year. I realized that Emily LaFontaine was a big impact on my appreciation of art. And I began to realize that Mages had to do a lot of different things to subsidize their lives. And that maybe there were more artists then I knew of in the history books.

One of the students, Cindy Taylor, sat next to me today, having swapped seats with one of the other girls. “Hank. You really seem to get into this stuff. Are you an artist?”

“Not at all. I have almost no talent in it. But I do know what I like and I do appreciate a lot of different expressions of art. I wish I could do photography, but I don’t have the darkroom time. Or camera competence. I guess my main thing is that I know some artists, and I know some people who want the product of artists, and I just sort of make them come together and we all make some money.”

“What kind of art do you have? Etchings?” She said with a sultry grin. “Do you invite girls over to see them?”

“No. I don’t do that at all. There is a woman that has opened a small studio in a building I know of in Augusta on Broad Street, and her work is amazing. I go up all the time. If you like maybe, you can come along with Bernie and Lynn this weekend.”

“Are you asking me on a date with your girlfriends?” Cindy asked.

“No. They want to go shopping, and we have an apartment in Augusta, so we camp out downtown over the weekends. If you want to come along and bunk with them, it’s fine with me.”

“I’ll pop the question to my mom. She might bite. So, it’s you and the Bobbsey twins. And no one else.”

“As far as I know.”

Little did I guess what this was going to do. Oh well.

After school I did a jump to the condo (Thank you Chief Hotawa. That watchband is precious) and worked to clean up the other fourth floor guest suite. We had two of the suites on this floor reserved. One for me and one for guests. The girls usually were with me, but modesty probably would dictate that It would be better to have them and Cindy in the guest suite. At least keep the rumors down to a mild roar. I also had to make sure that we had parking reserved in back for me when I came in.

Orgenaut was working on the ground floor overseeing the repairs to the warehouse and rear door as well as the door to the lounge. His typical attention to detail and patience had always impressed any of the construction people we had and he always had offers of construction jobs whenever any business owners looked at his work.

“I have to tell you, Hank, Orge is probably one of the most focused construction people I have ever met. This guy should be a master finish carpenter. I have some house rebuilds that would really benefit if you would let him come with me, but he keeps saying I must talk to you. What are you, his owner?”

“Not at all, Mr. Carter. Ogre is simply working here. Besides, if he leaves, I lose a building super, inventory manager, construction overseer, and contract manager. We are not a large building, but the tasks he does here would need a team of at least 4 to replace him. As it is, I must look at giving him a raise.”

“Well, I must tell you, he knows more about detail work with wood framing and paint than anyone else I know of in Augusta. Don’t let him off your place because I don’t need him for competition.”

“Mr. Carter, I know. And I tell him all the time. He’s just happy here where he is. Don’t go trying to poach him.”

“Can’t guarantee that, Hank. Great people are hard to find.”

Couple of things to keep in mind with Ogres. They have very sensitive hearing as well as being sensitive to smells. Their color sensitivity was lesser then Humans, but their hearing was as sharp as canines. I could see Ogrenaut’s embarrassment at Mr. Carter’s frank compliments.

When we had a moment, I approached Orgenaut and took him aside. “Well, my friend, do you think you want to go into the restoration business?”

“Could I really do that? Run a business? Here?” He asked cautiously.

“Well, its’ something to think about. On a personal note, I had planned to have you around here for a while doing the restoration of this building to its former stately appearance. Something to occupy your time when you weren’t needed to guard the gate. Keeping this building up is almost full-time job, and maybe we should look at restoration and maintenance as a separate business function. How about you and me and Paula talk about it over the weekend and set up a separate company for just that. You would be the head, and Paula could manage the paperwork for you. I know the other residents would want to keep you around. And the co-op management group would be absolutely delighted to have someone with your sensitivity and focus to manage the everyday operation here.”

“But I would be running the business?” Orgenaut asked, quietly. “Could I really do that?”

“Listen, Paula runs my business. She ran business before. She has an MBA. You listen to her on advice, have her manage budgets, and planning on expenditures, and I think you will be very happy. So will everyone else here. And once we have this place finished, I am sure that the city will want to rehabilitate other businesses here as well. There is more to Augusta then just The Lamar building. There are a lot of structures that will benefit from careful attention to detail in reconstruction. And you love working with stone, wood and in the art of construction.”

I never imagined the smile that grew on Orgenaut’s face would actually crack his enchantment. Suddenly, his Ogre face was plain to me as the light of day, and he looked like the picture book by William Steig. Ogres really did look like Shrek.

“Orgenaut. Green looks great on you, but we probably should keep others from seeing it.” I said quietly.

Orgenaut turned quickly and went into the bathroom, obviously to compose himself. It felt great to help him (and Myself) to get the best person in their best job that they could excel. That is business 101.

Another Friday, and I’m sitting here in my office reading stuff, Jeffery Gibbs thought to himself. And of all the decent women I have met in this town, the one I really like is working for the POI in a case that is being driven like a run-away steam engine by a DC “entitled manager”.

Jeffery was a bit of a loner. He was a middle child, who would rather read a book then play baseball, or football, and was far more comfortable being by himself then with others. The only exception was Martha. She had been his one true love throughout high school, and when he entered the Marines, but the distance and 3 years had been too much for their relationship. He got funny looks on his face when he thought back to the first time he made love to her, on the edge of the reflecting pool in Washington DC. The experience was amazing for both, and both were amazed that they didn’t get caught. It was a magical time, and the energy they shared was amazing.

And until he met Paula Olsen today, he hadn’t had that feeling of connection. My gosh, that woman was smart. Her explanations of the business ins and outs was both detailed, and clear. And after looking up the first twenty-five different documented transactions of H.A. Lambert, Jewelers, he decided to look into the import and export licenses.

Those were even clearer. None of this tracked to any companies in any of the “difficult” banking countries. Everything was either with Suntrust in the US or Banko Del Amazonia De Brazil. And the Brazilian bank documents were first order according to IRS and Customs. Distribution of funds in the US was handled by Suntrust, and the sourced suppliers were all clients of Brazilians bank. Trying to have Brazil chase down clients in a very well supported bank in Brazil was a fool’s errand. Everyone knew that the Mexican banks were the places where the drug cartels played their funding games. And the point of ingress at the time was BCCI in Miami.

Increasingly, this was beginning to look like a fool’s errand. So, if it was going to be ended pretty soon, maybe I can call Paula and find out a little more about her?

Opening up the NICS window on his computer, Jeffery hesitated. Ok. This is within the scope of the parameters of a search. And he spent the next two hours on a Friday evening searching for information on a amazing young woman he had met two weeks ago, to find out what her availability was. And he was surprised.

Apparently, there was almost nothing except college transcripts (3.85, magna Cum Laude, MBA at Duke, and a family history in Atlanta that went back over a century. But for all that time, the family seemed to be inexorably tied to Abigayle Anders. The woman that was the primary target of a lot of federal dollars in investigation. No Marriage certificates in Georgia, or South Carolina. No sign of her ever living outside of Atlanta before she moved to Augusta the previous year. No employment history except for her time with Ms. Anders. No college debt. And she lived at 1030 Broad Street, in a condo that was evidently comped to her as part of her employment agreement. And she just recently got her Georgia Driver’s License, and had joined the Chamber of Commerce as the representative of H.A. Lambert LLC.

Jeffery’s investigator antenna went up. No criminal charges. No history of boyfriends. No high school or college comments worth any value. The woman was a null. “This girl is too cute to be that blank” Jeffery thought to himself.

“I wonder what she is doing tomorrow?” was his afterthought. Good looking, smart, and single women were too rare in his world to walk away from.

It was a cool Friday in Washington, and the conference room seemed a lot cooler. The Attorney General of the United States (The famous Alligator woman from Florida whose primary job was to keep her bosses indiscretions out of the press) was not very warm or smiling when George Stephenson entered. As he walked toward the chairs opposite her desk she said “Don’t bother sitting down, George, you won’t be staying long.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that losing a six-man redaction team and an escort and transport van on American soil is not something that this administration wants to have in the press. Further, the fact that that team is missing and that two of the six men were identified by dental records as bodies in Atlanta, while the van was found burned out in Augusta, is causing the Inspector General to wonder who and why they were there, instead of Quantico, where they were supposed to be training. Add to that the unauthorized flight of a C-130 from DC to Atlanta, with orders to “Wait on the ground for the Van which should be back before dawn” with signed orders from you personally when I had ordered all rendition flights cancelled does not make me very interested in prolonging your political career. In fact, I have authorization to offer you immediate retirement, or prosecution. But that choice is yours. Here is your retirement paperwork.”

“You can’t fire me, you pompous witch. I have too many friends here for that to happen.” George thundered back.

“George, the bottom of the resignation letter that you posted is not countersigned by me. It’s countersigned by 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue’s current resident. I preferred prosecution, but BC doesn’t want your whining face next to the devil in the blue dress on the front page of the Post.”

“You’re making a big mistake.”

“Maybe. But look at it this way, If you quietly leave, we don’t have to tear down the J. Edgar Hoover Building brick by brick and throw out all of the trash that has accumulated there. We just quietly pray that the Post, the Times and all of the other rags around don’t dig too far into the different little “Investigations” and “Redactions” you guys have conducted over the last twenty years.”

The memo that was sent to Augusta’s FBI Field Office Friday afternoon defined a closure of any investigation into the affairs of H.A. Lambert or Patrick J. Hamilton of Atlanta. All case and documentation regarding these persons were to be filed as closed per the Attorney General. All documents and ancillary source materials were to be cataloged and filed for storage at Suitland Maryland, at the FBI records center.

Well, that’s interesting. I guess I can reach out to Paula and see if she’s interested in getting together, Jeffery Gibbs thought to himself.

Saturday Morning Confusion. Isn’t that a line from a song somewhere? I woke up in a bed I recognized as being in Augusta, but I was alone. Lynn and Bernie were both missing. Oh yea. They were over in the other condo with Cindy Taylor. Probably gabbing up into the wee hours of the morning. The drive into Augusta and the evening’s activities had been funny, with Cindy absolutely amazed by the plans of the building. And seeing what was available in the limited display areas for sale had been an eye opener. But after supper, the three girls all decided to wander out and about and (to my credit card’s upset) had done dinner, drinks and evidently some dancing, before Orgenaut checked them back in from the door at midnight.

I, meanwhile, had been sidetracked by a half dozen different “Important and immediate plans and decisions” by Emily Lafontaine (Artist), Yana Marenko (Clothing design) and catching up with the Diamond Exchange on stones that we had been able to provide provenance on. And that was not counting the two dozen messages and requests from Peter (Security planning), Pat (new high end jeweled artifacts with specific spells) and assorted stuff with Reggie and Sir Drummond.

The last two were “concerned with the continued use of Fae Person within my business establishment as a person of importance”. I don’t think they were happy with my answer that Orgenaut was not only a permeant person in my business, but that he was on track to become the first Fae Businessman in Augusta (with my help and sponsorship).