Chapter 11

Chapter 1

Teagan’s movements woke me from a very deep abyss. Her arousing pheromones flows through my nostrils. Then the scent clicks John Thomas’s activation switch, thus reminding me he hasn’t been exercised recently. My eyes are staring at a very large, inviting, and very swollen clitoris, extended like a thumb out of its hood. I’m just about to mouth it, when I feel Teagan’s hands on my forehead restraining me.

“No, you don’t. We have to shower, first. Then you can make me cum.”

Orders from on high! Teagan gets up and leaves the bed.

Watching her naked bottom sway as she leaves the room for the shower, doesn’t help John Thomas’s condition. He is hard and hurting. Fortunately, my mind intervenes, recalling the rescue of the young girls: ten points for the good guys. I wonder how Ian and his men are making out with ‘The Sea Farer’. One of the new challenges will be transferring the title of the yacht, if it’s actually possible! Those thoughts disappear when Teagan returns from the shower. The only thing she’s wearing is refreshed make-up! John Thomas stands tall, in honor of the view.

“Daddy, it’s your turn to shower. Then you can make me cum.”

And cum Teagan does, numerous times! With the assistance of my willing tongue, three times she gives me a view of her beautiful virgin rosebud while she’s in the throes of massive climaxes. Its slightly raised rim is a light brown, in the form of a nearly perfect circle, its color is a contrast from her beautiful soft pink skin. In my mind it’s winking at me. Her hand is on my head.

“Enough, Daddy! I don’t think I can handle another one. Now, it’s your turn. Lay on your back, I’m going to ride you!”

She rides me like a rodeo rider, with John Thomas getting the ride of his life. The best part of the situation is watching Teagan’s beautiful breasts bouncing with her movements. Now fully satisfied, I hear my new marching orders.

“Daddy, make sure you shower again before you leave the house, you smell like sex!”

The ‘Action Center’ is, as usual, in a flurry of activity. After last night’s successful rescue, there’s a positive vibe emanating from the group. I’m greeted with back slaps, high fives, hand shaking, and comments of, ‘Good job!’

The comments and actions have me wondering what I’d done. It was the men that had done the real work, not me. All my small group helped to do, was to remove a few obstacles, with assistance of some well placed projectiles. That allowed the boarding team to storm the yacht, and to do the real work. I and my crew did our part, but nothing more than anyone of the others.

Ian is in the kitchen. When he sees me he beckons me to his table. Once there, he hands me a large leather portfolio with the name ‘The Sea Farer’ embossed in gold leaf lettering.

“Don, this is everything we found in the wheel house, and the captain’s cabin, referring to ‘The Sea Farer’. The title, all the maintenance records, a number of permits, and the bill of sale. We emptied every drawer and cubby hole.”

“Where is ‘The Sea Farer’, now?”

“At a marina six or seven miles east down the coast, it’s docked in a very large complex, with all kinds of yachts of varying sizes. ‘The Sea Farer’ will not stand out. We covered the name plates with tarps, to give the impression the yacht is under repair.”

“Any problems?”

“Just waiting for Ash and his buddies to unwrap the chains from the propellers, it has twin diesel screws. When you open the throttle, it sets you back in your seat. I would hate to be the one paying for the fuel. I left the three men on board the yacht. They will be posing as caretakers; but what they will actually be doing is a very extensive search on all levels of the yacht, looking for anything of interest. I’m expecting their first report this evening.”

“We should have a round table. The girls have been rescued but we still have a number of outstanding unresolved items to take care of.”

“I was going to suggest the same thing.”

“You go to the left, and me to the right. We can meet here in twenty minutes.”

“See you then.”

After notifying my group, I head to the kitchen for coffee. Now at a table, I start my review of the elaborate portfolio in regards to ‘The Sea Farer’. The title is registered to Panel Corp Inc, of Huston, Texas. No surprise, there! The bill of sale is among the documents. The purchase price was four million eight. Since the initial purchase, there have been numerous very extensive and very expensive upgrades. One of the odd things, is that the yacht has only recorded one hundred and fourteen hours of use on the engines, since the purchase by Panel. That’s a hellva of an investment and expense for seemingly little or no practical use! We must be missing something. Each cruise lasted less than a day. There recorded, is the number of passengers and crew, but no names are listed. Possibly, these were very private meetings, made without any wish to risk being interrupted or recorded. This is all speculation on my part, but there has to be a reason for the expense of the yacht. I know money is of no concern when referring to Panel Corp, or Panel Corp Inc. More unanswered thoughts. There is movement in the area around me. The Round Table is about to begin. Ian starts it off.

There is an air of buoyancy among the men. The rescue of the young girls was a big event, with most of the Vets taking part, each using their particular expertise. Ian takes the floor.

“Ladies and gentlemen, last night was a job well done. Congratulations! The young ladies were rescued unharmed, the perps are no more, and we suffered one slight flesh wound from one of the perps below decks.”

Ian pauses, panning the group.

“But, unfortunately, the job is not over. There are some outstanding issues that have to be addressed, and then resolved. We still don’t know how the funding of the Panel operation is accomplished, nor the reasons for their recent activity. One of our major concerns is that they, whoever ‘they’ are, could be planning another kidnapping ... or worse. We have been very fortunate, to this point.”

Another pause.

“We currently have only bits and pieces of possible leads that the various teams are working on. We have a start with criminal’s banking, and maybe we’ll get lucky and be able to pursue the actual bagmen. Colin Dow still is a person of interest, and is still in the wind. The perps still haven’t accomplished what they set out to do: rescue and/or dispose of their compatriot.”

There is a hush in the room as many are absorbing Ian’s comments. The fact that more kidnappings may ensue, does not go over well; especially considering that all prior kidnappings were of children. That thought makes my blood pressure rise. There is concern on all our faces as Ian continues.

“This is a start of a new investigation. Go over your notes. Look for something you, or we, may have missed. Bring everything to the next roundtable, including theories of what may transpire. Nothing is too small or insignificant. If there are no questions, we are dismissed.”

There are no questions, but I know there are many in the minds of the group. Peanut and his crew will be the catalyst. We need more pertinent information on Colin Dow, and of course on our ‘friend, ‘ Dwayne Riser. We need to know what his participation in this actually is. I have a gut feeling he has no idea of what he is being set up for.

Skip finds me and sits. He looks like shit.

“What’s the problem, Skip? No sleep?”

“By the time I got back from the rescue, it was after four. After a long relaxing shower, I finally got to bed at six. Then to make matters worse, I couldn’t fall asleep. My mind wouldn’t let me, as it kept trying to connect the dots. Who the hell is behind these kidnappings? I don’t believe it’s for money, as ISIS is well funded from the illegal oil sales. Another question is, who the hell is pulling the strings in the States. Those were professionals guarding the yacht! If your team hadn’t taken the majority of those bastards out in those first few minutes, we could have had World War Three on our hands. I surmised that from the volume of the armaments the perps were carrying, plus the surplus ammo that was hidden for easy access all over the deck, that they were prepared for a battle. If wasn’t for your snipers, we could still be in a firefight. Jake photographed some of the tattoos the perps had, and someone had the foresight to bring a fingerprint kit. They took prints from many of the corpses. The way they handled themselves suggests they were ex-special forces, quite possibly from all over the world including some of US origin. Peanut and his crew are running them, now.”

“One of the good things from the results of last evening, is we know that those malcontents won’t be kidnapping any more kids in the future.”

“Their bodies should be slag dust by now.”

“Ian had a crew move ‘The Sea Farer’ to a new dockage down the coast. There is a crew searching the yacht from stem to stern, right now. If we are lucky, we may get some answers to some the outstanding questions, and hopefully some useful leads.”

“I was there when Ash and his crew removed the chains from the props. When they started the engines, I could feel the vibrations on the pier! I watched it leave the area. What the hell are we going to do with it?”

“That depends if we can figure some way of transferring the title.”

“And just how the hell do you plan to do that?”

“Let’s just say it’s in the very early planning stages. Actually, I’m going to need your skill set. Are you up for some smoke and mirrors planning?”

“Every time you get one of those ideas, I end up ducking bullets aimed my way. What do you have in mind?”

“Panel Corporation and Panel Corporation Inc have some interesting ‘particulars of the corporation’ in their Letters of Incorporation, some we may be able to leverage.”

I have Skip’s undivided attention.

“In the original documents, there was one share holder; a John Smith, residence at a postal box in Huston Texas. In the current documents, we removed from ‘The Sea Farer’, now shows the name has been changed from John Smith to Dwayne Riser, our friend from Wandering Place, late of the State Prison System.”

“How the hell did he get released from prison?”

“It’s a long story that has no bearing on my sinister plan.”

“All your plans are sinister and worse, dangerous.”

“And you enjoy each one of them! Admit it, you like living on the edge.”

Skip is about to answer, when Ian interrupts.

“Don, there is an uptick of movement at 16 Scott Lane, Adamscourt. Four SUVs are moving men and some boxes, contents unknown. We are attempting to follow them, but they took us by surprise with so many units on the move at once.”

“Do what you can on the units we can tail. Have your men watch and video what they can, so other groups can review the perps in action. Last night’s activity at the yacht, and now there’s no yacht, likely has them spooked and certainly concerned. They are wondering what the hell happened to all their armed compatriots and the yacht; also, they are likely wondering if they’ve been compromised as well. They could be moving some valuables to other safe houses.”

“I have five units converging on the house at Scott Lane, now. If any of the teams have an opportunity, they will tag the SUVs with trackers. The plates of the ones we are tracking are being run. So far, as expected, they are all rentals; and all rented by the Panel Corporations. They’re all on two week prepaid rentals, with very sizable deposits. All were rented very early this morning.”

“When we poked a stick in the hornets’ nest, like we did last night, the perps activities were bound to get a little erratic. We need to be on guard, and be diligent! Watch what happens concerning the perps, and possible materials they are moving about. Ian, advise your teams to be on high alert! There is a good possibility the perps are all ex-special forces, from the US and abroad. We don’t need any losses.”

“I’ll have every man well armed, and wearing vests.”

“Have the teams leaving the Action Center carry extra vests and weapons, to pass on to the teams that left earlier.”

“Will do.”

Ian leaves the table, but his mouth is moving as he is giving instructions to his people via a blue tooth.

“Don, do you have any idea what the perps may be up too?”

“Not sure, Skip. We know they have a number of very interesting vaults at 16 Scott Lane, Adamscourt. They could be redistributing the wealth or who knows what, to other safe houses; but again, we have no idea what the hell they are guarding in those vaults. More damn questions with no answers.”

The contents of 16 Scott Lane have taken on increased significance, because the perps are appearing to be moving items. That’s just an assumption, but considering there are five active SUVs, they have to be doing more than just moving personnel. We can only hope our tracking teams will come up with some answers; but, again, that takes time. We need a plan to take down Scott Lane! The problem, of course, is the bad guys don’t want to be taken down, and they have many safeguards to thwart that possibility. Some obvious routes for us to complete that task are off the table, with the vast amount of security throughout the complex. An outright ‘charge of the light brigade’ would undoubtedly cause loss of life, not to mention a gun battle in the middle of an upscale residential neighborhood. That would cause unneeded attention from the other residents; and, of course, the authorities. We need something subtle, we need to create a situation that will induce the perps to want to leave. We need misdirection: smoke and mirrors. The area is serviced by natural gas ... a leak? That’s a possibility. A major accident on the street, causing fire, explosions, a chemical leak? What we really need, is to create the possibility of imminent danger, mitigating the voluntary evacuation of the perps from the building. It has to be something that will have the perps wanting to leave. Right now, it’s just a foggy idea. It will take some time to fluff it out.

That’s only one of the challenges. We still don’t know who is behind this, and the big question: will our recent actions with ‘The Sea Farer’ stop the kidnappings? Answering myself, I say: NO! Whoever is behind this has to be furious, and wondering what the hell has happened to his/her small army, as we believe there was no one was left to tell any tales. Not only that, but ‘losing’ a five million dollar yacht has to bring up more questions. The odds are in favor of our ability to keep the yacht hidden in plain sight at the different marina, though. Very few would have the balls to just move it seven miles, and dock it.

I’m relying heavily on Peanut and his girls to get more banking information. That will be the key: “follow the money.” The last I recalled was Peanut had mentioned the girls had a line on the Heinz brothers.

Standing beside Peanut’s station, I wait until he finishes hammering the keyboard and notices me.

“What’s up, Don?”

“I’m hoping ... no, not hoping, but praying ... that you have a lead on the money trail in the US. I also need the location of the Heinz brothers, currently; and who their agent is, in the States. Finally, what can we do about it?”

“We now have the Heinz’s brothers first names: Willy and Ludwig. Both are in their late sixties. Their start up money actually came from the Nazi’s, their family was in the armament business in Germany prior and during the war, but the family businessmen didn’t believe Hitler’s bullshit about the Thousand Year Reich. They funneled millions of dollars into Swiss and South American bank accounts. When Germany went for a shit, the family just left. They have since returned to the new Germany, revived their plants, and are now doing the same thing, again. But they have expanded to being the middle men for terror groups’ oil sales. I can’t believe the amount of money generated by the illegal oil sales. The information I have gathered as just hearsay, says it’s in the hundreds of millions; but the actual amount could be double or triple those estimates. It could possibly be billions.”

“Any information on the banking information locally, or anywhere in the States? That will be our starting point. If we can interrupt or redirect the flow, maybe it will deter others from attempting to blackmail the government with the kidnappings.”

“We may have a lead on one bank. We’re still checking. It’s located in Detroit. It’s a small community bank with one location. What caught my attention is, it’s state of the art accounting and encryption system is supported by an on-line presence that makes the major American banking institutions pale, by comparison. Their state of the art encryption system was developed by someone very close to my abilities.”

“Close?”

“Unbeknownst to them, they are using one of my kernels! Which, since I developed it, has a back door known only to me. It allows me to decrypt everything they post.”

“Anything of interest?”

“I have only looked at the last two weeks. It appears they are funneling funds to the Panel Corporations for distribution. Something has happened at Panel Corporation about a month ago. That’s when additional funds started to flow from the Detroit Bank. I’m looking for a reason for the flow. There has to be some legal reason, otherwise the Feds would have every transaction flagged. I have yet to find a flag. I’ll keep looking.”

“Is there any indication as to where Panel are distributing the funds? Once we are able to locate that, maybe we can start closing it down.”

“As I mentioned, the bank has a state of the art encryption system. I can get into it, but I’m moving very slowly until I’m sure there are no trip wires in the system. I wrote the kernel, but others could have enhanced it. When I’m sure I can move safely, without making any waves, then their information will be an open book. Give me another couple of days. The last thing we need, is for the bad guys to become aware we are reading their every move.”

“You’re the expert. Let me know as soon as you get something concrete.”

“Will do!”

“Another thing, have you been able to research the pictures of the tattoos Jake took from the perps, or have you matched any of the fingerprints?”

“It’s in the pile. After the banking info, me and the girls will see what we can find.”

Now in the eating area, I’m on the lookout for Ian. What’s the latest on the movements at 16 Scott Lane? My sub-conscience has been mulling over a means of seizure and search of that property, but I have yet to come up with a plan I can discuss with the rest of the crew. The massive amounts of security surrounding the property create numerous challenges. We can’t blast our way in, as Scott Lane is part of a very exclusive area of Adamscourt. Our seizure has to be with no loud noises at the building site itself. It has to be smoke and mirrors, and we will only have the one chance.

“Don!”

That’s Ian, bringing me out of the clouds.

“I was looking for you, Ian. Anything new on 16 Scott Lane? Did your teams manage to track and determine what is going on?”

“It’s speculation, at this point; but, we tracked one of the SUVs to a large warehouse. They drove inside the building, and the doors closed. Twenty minutes later, they left. They may have unloaded their cargo, whatever it was. I have three crews on the scene attempting to determine if we can access the building without leaving a trail. Although the unit looks like a very decrepit old building, it has a state of the art monitoring system, and there are active cameras everywhere. I have one of my men with Peanut. They are reviewing the video’s the men obtained of the building and surroundings. Fortunately there is continuous traffic in and out of the warehouse. We believe we got away with taking our videos.”

“Let me know if you figure out a way to breach it. I’m still attempting to create a plan to breach 16 Scott Lane. It’s going to have to be creative.”

“Good luck with that. I have watched the video Peanut took with his drone, it’s going to be a tough nut to crack.”

The day is coming to an end, though there is still so much to do. Originally, this group of Vet retirees was supposed to be a small security firm, providing opportunities for discharged Vets to feel useful after their separation from the service. Now we’re involved in thwarting kidnappings, rescuing young ladies, and being shot at! What the hell is happening???

As the Suburban climbs my mountain, a smile comes to my face. I’m envisioning Skip and his poor Chevy groaning as they climbs the rock face to the cabin. It’s not his favorite spot. I count nineteen bunnies on my way up.

Yes, you nasty bunny hating people, my bunnies are doing well!

It’s a bit cool, but it really feels good to be at the cabin. So quiet. The heat from the gas heater is making it presence felt. Hell, it’s a wonderful feeling! Looking out of the front window, the glow of the city of Abbotsville can be seen. From here ‘Life is Good.’ My body is telling me it’s time for a shower and then a crash onto the bed. My mind is still mulling over a possible solution to breach Scott’s Lane: smoke and mirrors, but how?

I awoke refreshed, twelve hours of undisturbed sleep will do that. My subconscious must have worked all night, as I may have come up with a plan to breach Scott Lane. It will be a challenge, and timing will be key. I figure we will have a one hour window before local emergency agencies and law enforcement get wind of our subterfuge, and have real crews moving into the area. My plan involves a natural gas leak, an explosion resulting in clouds of dense black smoke, and the strong odor of gas encroaching from the rear area of the building. This will support the dangers of a gas leak in rear of Scott Lane, and to make things more interesting, a two car pileup, complete with an exploding fuel tanks in front of the building, requiring a number of emergency vehicles with flashing lights and sirens. Now it’s time for creative work. This plan is still in the very early draft process.

With fresh coffee, I gaze out the window and let my mind and subconscious have a free reign. I really need an idea that’s actually doable. The gas leak, we have access to the rear of the property via the old alleyway where Peanut and I did the first surveillance with his drone. What I don’t recall, is if there are any openings in the fences to allow a flood of gas over the back area of the rear of the Scott Lane property. I make a note to review the Peanut’s drone video when I get back to the ‘Action Center’. I’m sure Skip has a source for all the ordinance I’ll need to pull this off.

Entering the building there is a aura of activity. However, unlike the festive feeling of the after the rescue, things have taken on a serious tone. You can feel the tension! Things are being done. Hopefully, they are positive things to bring this situation to a head. Ian is at his desk, talking on the phone. My first mission is a coffee, then back to Ian. He notices me, nods towards an empty chair, one finger in the air indicating he won’t be long. The coffee is good. He hangs up.

“We managed to follow one of the rental SUVs to an older middle income neighborhood: 43 Baker Street, Abbotsville. The building is a fortress. The exterior is large stones, assembled by a very talented stone mason at the turn of the last century. The stone walls appear to be two feet thick. The windows are new; but if you look closely at the pictures, magnification shows the windows are barred on the inside as well as the outside. The wrought iron bars in the front have to be at least one inch thick. We are searching for earlier pictures of the house, to determine if the outside bars are new. If they are new, and anchored properly, they will be a bugger to overcome without using burners or explosives. Like Scott Lane, we don’t need any attention if we seize the building.”

“Shit, why can’t we get a break? Have you determined who is on the title of the property?”

“Would it surprise you if I said ‘Panel Corporation Inc.’ with Dwayne Riser as the representative.”

“Ian, I would appreciate it if you would put a crew on Riser, I would like to know more about him. Maybe we can use him against Panel.”

“I’ll put two crews on him, and ask Peanut to run him through every data base he can access. We let you know as soon as I get something.”

“Thanks. Have you seen Skip?”

“Where else? He’s in the kitchen, eating. He must have a tape worm!”

Skip is at one of the tables, devouring a massive plate of spaghetti and meatballs, and slopping up the sauce with fresh buns coated with an inch of butter.

“Were you starved as a kid, Skip? Do you have your name engraved on that chair?”

“Have you been told, today?”

“Fortunately no, not yet; but I’m sure you will correct that, shortly.”

Between mouthfuls Skip gives me the international salute: one finger, straight up.

“Finish up. I have a few foggy ideas to run by you about breaching 16 Scott Lane. I have a gut feeling they, the bad guys, are using it to hide something of interest.”

“Give me a couple of minutes. I’m done, but I have to get cleaned up. I’m a sloppy eater.”

Skip disappears downstairs to the lavatory area. Twenty minutes later, he re-appears.

“What happened, did you have an accident? Did you have to use a mop to clean yourself?”

“Actually, I had a shower, asshole!”

It took me nearly an hour to run my scheme by Skip. What surprised me was that he had me pause and grabbed a note book. He told me to proceed, and made notes until I finished my comments.

“Let’s talk to Peanut, and review the tape of the surveillance video that Peanut and you took of Scott Lane.”

It only took Peanut a few minutes to set up the video.

“What are you looking for Don?”

“Openings in the wall to the access the rear of the Scott Lane property.”

When Peanut had used the drone for the surveillance video, we had been concentrating on the building, not the fence. There is actually very little footage of the back fence, but what we had was enough. After viewing the building, and turning the drone around to return to the lane, we have about fifteen seconds of video of the back fence. There are openings every twenty or so feet, I’m guessing six inches by six inches.

“Anyone have any idea what the hell those openings are for?”

“Just guess, Don, but it’s likely for water hoses in the event of a fire. I don’t actually recall, but I’m surmising that there are water hydrants in the lane. We just didn’t notice them.”

Thinking back, Peanut is correct. Our thoughts were on the building, not of the alley. It makes sense. Now we know one of the reasons for the lane.

“They will accomplish what we need.”

“Skip, can you order two hundred pounds of black powder?”

“Shit! That’s one hellva lot of black powder! Why do you need that much?”

“I don’t know how much we will use, but I would rather have some left over, then run short.”

“I’ll call my supplier and put it on a ‘stand by’ order. It will be shipped the day I request it. I’ll send them payment, today.”

“Good, that will be one small item taken care of. What I would appreciate, is you mulling over my very poor plan. We can meet later and compare notes.”