Chapter 11

Preferably, healthy and together in Florida. I was not ready to give up the homestead. Nor did I want to do the additions and upgrades in absentia. We will be OK with the space I have, but more would be better.

The primary question to answer is how do I keep thirty lovely girls in one group and under the radar? With the current immediate dangers eliminated, we ought to be able to get on with our vacation. Might as well do what we can to give it a try, starting with Millie Smythe, not that she is a problem herself.

Lady Millicent needs to get back to her real life in England. Again, not that we all haven’t been living a larger than life, real life. But she has a specific profile of a public real life. A Peer of the Realm cannot be seen to be hiding from danger. Not really seen, but appearing to be hiding, not that she would hide so badly to appear at all. You see what I mean. Or not, It’s complicated.

Whatever. She needed to get to Bella Magdalena to catch the SAS flight to Rome. We needed to guarantee the trip south. I was saved by the bell. Literally. Dona Monica called to ask if Millie would like to dine at the trattoria tonight and, if so, she would send a car and armed driver.

Her Ladyship was delighted to accept. “I haven’t eaten there in ages. Excellent place to decompress from the stressful, fast lane you folks occupy.” She laughed after talking to Monica. “It will be a good time to get used to wearing actual clothes again. I love the freedom of this crowd, but dissolving dresses will be frowned on at Buckingham Palace. I’m sure we will have to meet with the P.M. and Her Majesty. The recent excitement will be a popular topic.”

“Her Majesty? Going all proper on us, your Millicentness?” Beatrix chuckled. “Must we refer to those two shameless tarts as Lady Anne and Lady Pamela, your Grace? What about Dara and Tara? Is Cousin Lilly a Royal, too?”

“Hush up, Lady Beatrix. In the interest of fairness, you and your sister are pumping some blue blood yourselves. I believe you are not-so-distantly related to King Willem-Alexander through Queen Mother Beatrix.” Millie revealed, grinning hugely. “We’ll probably find some fractional Danish and Saxon royalty in the Tittie Twins. Lilith is probably at least a minor baronetess, maybe a full on baroness. Show the little fucktoy some respect!”

“Hey! I’m standing right here.” Lilly giggled. “I’m a sex ninja, thank you very much.”

“Fucktoy?” Jessi giggled. “No poaching. That’s our job.”

“We haven’t even traced the Pendragon side.” Tara grinned. “Dara and I may be in line for any number of Crowns.”

“Not so strange. The search for the rightful heir in the 1600s stretched all the way to The House of Orange-Nassau and the Hanoverians in Germany.” Dara concluded, “Can you say ‘William and Mary, George I, etc., and Charlotte of Mecklenburg’?”

“Which brings us back to King Willem-Alexander of the Netherlands and the Holbein Hotties.” I added. “This could get messy.”

“Not to mention Queen Victoria, a Hanoverian of note.” Laurie guessed. “Someone has been doing their ancestry homework. Anyone else have little big secrets and hidden tiaras?”

No one spoke up. Which meant nothing. Pam, Anne, Beatrix and Marlena never mentioned the throne in the corner until ratted out. Tara, Dara and Lilly never suspected. At this rate, Charity might be a lost great, great granddaughter of Anastasia Romanova, Grand Duchess of Russia. Scary thought.

“For the sake of discussion among friends and lovers, how ‘bout we stick to first names and diminutives?” Erika snarked. “This is giving me a headache.”

“Works for me.” Gina answered. “Let’s get Millie dressed to impress. Her ride is in transit now. The Dona is not known to tarry. She is never ‘late’.”

“Auntie Monica expects the same courtesy from everyone.” Isabella reminded the mob. “We have maybe 40 minutes to get Her Ladytude cleaned, polished, dressed and respectable again.”

“Forget respectable, just shoot for presentable. It’s the best we can do.” Anne giggled. “We don’t have all night.”

Pamela was enjoying this. “The clock is ticking. Bea, you and Laurie try to find something that will cover Mummy’s boobs and butt. Anne and I will scrub her down. If Marta, Jane and Sadie can clean her phone, or better yet, replace it after cloning the contact list, we can get moving.”

“The clothes she had on after the battle at Rex Oceanus are clean and smoke free.” Melanie called out. “Petra and I packed Millie a carry-on bag. We included some of the choicest ‘jewelry’ to keep her private memories alive.”

“As if she could forget her time in the Piazza of Participatory Porn.” Petra could not hold back the giggles. “That was awesome! You could hear her moan and squeal in Madrid.”

“I needed to collect hard data points for the corporal punishment study.” Millie blushed. “Mission accomplished.”

That precipitated silly reminiscences of each girl’s lost cherry tale, much embellished, more hilarious to the listeners than to the teller. Some were even true.

Eventually, they got Millie tuned, dressed, coifed, and sufficiently decent to travel when one of Massimo’s gladiators drove up to the outer gate and called. It was close, but she got away on time. The rest of us finally relaxed enough to rest and plan something resembling a happy future.

For what it was worth, I planned the future. Thirty girls chatted and decided, without benefit of my learned input or any consideration of the morass of immigration paperwork involved, exactly what we would do. They noted that, when it came down to brass tacks, we knew people who could make things happen. Cabinet members, Peers of the Realm, various Royal Personages, NATO, NASA and assorted Security Forces from all over were interested in our ongoing safety. The Secretary of State, among others, could make bureaucracy disappear.

Anyone could call the Marines. Generally, they showed up to bail the caller out of a mess. Marines are like that. Rangers, too. We also could call the Vikings, SEALs and the SAS. How cool is that? Toss in a few respected women and men of the Gamboa/de Silva families for whom we have done favors and we might get some things done expeditiously. Never hurts to toss in some Toscanis and Marinos, either. Having Italian, Dutch and Swedish commandoes on hand is insurance. That they all liked us made it perfect.

Thirteen were going to Florida, regardless: Laurie, Sadie, Teri, Lilly, Tara, Dara, Petra, Melanie, Cindy, Lindy, Jessica, Juliet and Jane. The two de Silva twins leaving Italy forever might be an issue, but one that could be overcome. No one could see opposition from any direction.

One additional resident, Charity, would be part of our home when I got her adoption papers registered in Tennessee. Maybe Allen Ortega could bypass Nashville by notarizing the documents in the office at Monica’s, aka Washington, D.C.

Three, Patricia, Sylvia and Stephanie, would move to my house as soon as possible. Stephie was not built for West Texas. The other two wanted to get away from the carnivorous mosquitoes and frozen winters of the North.

Three more, Shirley, Maxine and Angie, had begun to consider Florida schools. Bye bye, Kansas.

Ten European girls, Anne, Pam, Suzan, Erika, Bea, Marli, Gina, Marta, Carla and Isabella, were working the system to emigrate to the States, either on extended student visas or as permanent resident aliens. Some options might be easier than others, but all were doable. Listening to them refer to the move as ‘emigration’ suggested they were making a new life in the US.

I could house my thirteen plus Charity and Stephanie with no problems. To accommodate fifteen more, comfortably, I needed to build an annex. A two-story bedroom wing, to match the existing structure, with large rooms, four up and four down, that could be subdivided, ought to do the trick. By that I mean rooms at least as large as the ones we had already. Any extra space would always find a use. Then, cover the pool, buy the lot next door and add a basketball court. I might take a break after the privacy fence went up.

We still had the bonus room, Winnie’s ex-office and the basement. The great room, entertainment center, my office, the den and the dining room were the icing on the cake. Good thing I was stinking rich.

Meanwhile, the ever-clever girls, thinking ahead, had called their parents on the secure phones. The results were enlightening but not a big honking surprise. Retirements were in the air.

Yet another phone call interrupted my reverie. It was Phil Matthews with news and questions. The questions came first. I hate that. Usually means that the news is contingent on my answers.

“Have you heard from the NASA families in Martinique?”

“Indirectly. The abandoned, deserted and adopted daughters made some calls to check in.” I answered, wondering why he asked. “Turns out that the fine print in the documents was not accidental. They are my new daughters.”

“Precisely why I called.” Phil snorted. “My people on the scene have learned that the Larsons, Pendragons, Cassidys, van Pelts and Pauleys are planning a move to Guam. I understand they hope either to transfer to the NASA Tracking Station and/or continue their research at the University. Failing that, which is not likely, they will retire to Hagåtña (Agana). NASA will be pleased to see the programs continue in a more securable facility.”

“No one knew the Cape was so vulnerable to cloak and dagger crap.” I commiserated. “The leaks were not your fault. The security wonks screwed the pooch and left us to clean up the broken pieces.”

“In any event, the five couples are not coming back to the Cape except to pack up and sell out.”

“Speaking of selling out, whatever happened to the Sawyer and Edwards properties after they went to prison?”

“Both estates have been seized and auctioned off to pay for damages and court costs.” Phil audibly smiled, “The Larsons, on behalf of Lindy and Cindy, pled for mercy, so the proceeds of the auction are being held in trust for the kids. Powerful people agreed that the daughters shouldn’t be penalized for the sins of the parents. I’m holding the paperwork here.”

“But for me adopting both of them, they would be homeless. Makes me like the parents even less. Might be best to attach the trust to the accounts the Foreign Service has established so they can receive the allowances and per diem payments.” I sort of ordered, “Just make sure the girls and the banking institutions fully understand the terms with respect to access and distribution of the trust funds. The other money remains unrestricted.”

“Good idea. I will talk to Ambassador Howe and Secretary Simons and make it happen.” Phil was easy. “Anything else?”

“We are investigating ways to stay together as a group. The prevailing opinion is that there is strength in numbers.” I said quickly. “A large group is easier to guard than several smaller ones. People have a vested interest in our security, so any help you can marshal to grease some Immigration wheels would be appreciated.”

“I’ll see what we can do.” That sounded good. “Talk to you after I get the specifics from Allen Ortega.”

“Please put a rush on it. We have to add an annex the house at the Cape to hold all the girls under our protection. I have to delay the contractors until I hear from you guys.”

“Got it. Later.” Click.

I had decided that no construction would happen before we got home, but neither he, nor anyone else, needed to know that schedule.

Actually, the State Department never said anything about making financial arrangements for the Florida girls. They were under the Charles family umbrella, protection-wise, which was how this got started. If I acted as if the accounts were already a done deal, maybe the powers would think it was their oversight and open accounts for all the girls. Talk fast and change the rules. I will make sure Allen gets Teri and Charity’s story. Lilly, he already knows. Jessica and Juliet deserved to have accounts according to the original agreement. I sent a satellite text to the Charge d’Affairs with the new details and banking ‘requirements’.

It would either work or not. Whatever, I gave it a shot. Time will tell.

We certainly do not need the money, but a little recognition of the girls’ efforts demonstrates awareness of the contributions made for the commonweal. A little walking around money the girls earned themselves would be great. I can’t see any of them wasting it or trying to flash it about, but not having to ask for fun money makes people happy.

We didn’t need the fistful (so far) of unlimited credit cards and the nearly $100,000 in debit cards, but the parents should pay something for their egregious desertion of the girls. I have to assume they had the wherewithal to afford it. Maybe they took my investment advice after all. Good for them. The credit cards may have been intended for emergencies, but as Dona Monica observed, emergencies come in many forms. I wanted to go easy on Teri’s credit card. Dad would eventually need access to his rainy day fund. Mom was a one-woman deluge, for monsoon season. Teri deserved the debit card in compensation for years of pain and suffering.

I didn’t have a problem letting the former parents help finance the Annex. It’s the least they can do. I was used to them doing the least they could so any help I could lend toward that end ought to be welcome. I’ll bet they never expected me to help them so readily. But never bet more than you can afford to lose. I hope the cost of living on Guam was lower than Florida because that annex was not going to be cheap.

The girls affected by the Consolidated Moms of East Florida, and their flunkies, were not impressed. Melanie spoke for the entire poolside crowd. “If they ever suggested we move as a family to the middle of the ocean on other side of the planet, I would have sued for emancipation or run away and joined the circus. Or both.”

“Agreed. I’m sure Micronesia is beautiful. However, the NASA complex in Guam is not close to anything except more Guam.” Tara laughed at the thought. “Which is not Daytona Beach.”

“And way not like the pool at Laurie’s” Sadie added, grinning. “Besides, we would not have these new friends if we lived in Agana.”

My credit card abuse plans, admittedly slightly vengeful, and memories of the poolside antics, quite a bit more satisfying, were broken all to hell by the phone. Damn.

This time it was Allen Ortega with serendipitous news. “Put me on speaker. The girls deserve to hear this first hand.”

“OK, Allen. What gives?”

“The stars were in perfect alignment tonight, Ted. Dona Monica, Lady Millicent, Consul Carneseca and Ambassador Howe were eating at the trattoria when I received your text and the call from Colonel Matthews. Ms Gamboa opened the satellite office where Lady Smythe set up the banking with her British houses doing business in Florida. Ambassador Howe communicated with Secretary Simons, getting official approval from the top. I cut the documents as if in Washington, D.C., Mr. Carneseca and the Ambassador signed as witnesses, a couple of dozen notary stamps later, and voila! Done deal.”

“So, all the girls get a $500 clothing allowance each month (I tossed that in for the hell of it, giving them something to limit. They didn’t.), a $100 per diem, and the accounts include, Charity, Teri, Lilly, Juliet and Jessica.” I smiled like a fiend inside. “ Is that right?”

“Correct.” He continued merrily. “Plus, I went ahead and filed and received approval of your adoption of Ms Charity Ball, and with the help of Dona Monica and Emilia de Silva, you are the adopted father of Jessica and Juliet de Silva. Dona Emilia is still considered their real mother. However, you have custody for the foreseeable future.”

“Excellent! Citizenship part of the deal?” And each girl got no less than$3500 per month.

“Yes. The Ambassador thought about Permanent Resident Alien status, but that made no sense given the adoption. The Secretary of State pushed it through.” His voice got very soft. “I agreed with you, even though the Florida Girls were not actually part of the original arrangement. Your casual assumption made the powers think that it was their omission, a forgotten commitment. Well played. Do not invite to your next poker game. You cheat.”

Laurie objected. “Pops does not cheat. He changes the rules and people fail to notice. That’s on them. How many times do I have to say it?”

“Once was enough, thank you. It was obvious from the start and I learned my lesson quickly. As you say, the rest is on them.” Ortega hooted. “Others haven’t yet realized they are in a new and constantly changing game. It’s all Dona Monica and I can do not to laugh out loud.”

“Cool. Glad to supply the floorshow. Now for my signatures, where and how?”

“I’m already sending the Gladiator up to you wherever you are. He will return immediately with your autographs.” Ortega answered, “He will call on arrival.”

“Wonderful. Thanks for the fast work. ‘Fast’ being the operative word.”

“Ain’t that the truth?” He signed off, chuckling.

The messenger completed his circuit within the half hour and our wish list was complete.

Millicent had the Italian branches of her bank issue cards and current statements to all the girls. Everyone had a temporary PIN and a balance of $1000.00, the clothing allowance and the first five days at $100.00 each. International walking around money. Nice. Same story for all thirty girls.

Business happens fast when the Duchess who owns the majority of the bank wants something done. Now. Again I had the feeling that most of the preparation was already in the pipeline.

I advised them to use the unlimited credit cards, courtesy of the parents and my accounts until we went back to the States. “Let your money accumulate for the summer. You don’t want to deal with the variable exchange rates every time you buy something at a shop or pharmacy in Europe. It is simpler to let me pay.”

“What to do with the money on the debit cards we have already? It is ours as part of the prize.” Maxine asked. “Should we transfer it to the new personal accounts?”

“I would keep it separate until we are ready to leave, then transfer the balance at the last minute. Leave a couple of bucks to keep the cards alive. They can be reloadable or not. You will have to call the help line listed on the back.”

“I think it is a bank version of a gift card. They loaded $15,000.00 each and paid our airfare, plus added the rail and bus passes for all three of us.” Shirley said. “The contest was fairly prestigious and the award was pretty huge as far as the 4H in Kansas was concerned, but pocket change for Big Industrial Agriculture.”

“The cards are not reloadable. When they are empty, that’s all she wrote.” Angie assured us. “The passes are good until we go home or at the end of the summer, whichever happens first.”

“I’m glad someone reads the fine print!” I snarked. “That means you can save the travel money, too.”

“They had no idea we could present our ideas so quickly and get done in time to have a nice vacation.” Angie finished.

“Until you met those assholes on the road. Then it got really interesting.” Beatrix giggled. “Did you know you would be running nude all over the Italian countryside with strangers when you left Dodge City?”

“Not a clue, but all’s well that ends well.” Maxi responded. “And the murdering assholes are under their own Boot Hill. Even better, they did not end well.”

“Now, for the next piece of important business. Stephanie, have you contacted your people in Midland about your new job and summer itinerary?” I asked, explaining why I considered it important. “We need to decide how to move forward from here. Is the University in Florence still in your future or will you transfer to one of the universities near Cape Canaveral or in Texas? Money for tuition will not be an issue whatever you decide, although I rather suspect you will get a full ride at any school you choose. With respect to income, you have the State Department payments and I will start paying your social director salary into this new account immediately. You will be fine without help from Doreen and Bernard Collins back home.”

“Yeah, Ted. I talked to Mom. Got myself disowned.” She almost lost it choking back the giggles. “I told her about taking the nightclub job and then the costumes I wore and then how I was hired by an American family shortly after my second night on the job.”

“Did her head explode?” Pamela wondered.

“Loudly. Especially after I told her that I was also being paid by the State Department as a cultural advisor and security analyst.” Now she was laughing openly. “Working for the government was awful enough, but when I refused to go back to Midland, Mom redlined, then threatened to bring on the Pentecostal Goon Squad! When I let her know how badly that would be seen, she cussed up a very unchristian blue streak and told me to go to hell.”

“She doesn’t know about your big dicking debut on stage, does she?” Anne quizzed her for details of the discussion. “All three holes, multiple times? That was legendary.”

“Or waiting tables naked for all to see?” Jane nudged. “Or having me eat your twat in front of a crowd of people cheering you on while Daddy Ted fucked you in the ass?”

“Of course not. I didn’t want to kill her on the spot.” Stephie swore, “But I did tell her that I was no longer her pure little puppet and that any preprogrammed wedding plans she or Bernard had were off the table.”

“And then she sent you on your way.” I guessed.

“Immediately and completely. I’m dead to her and Dad. Consider me geographically disconnected. So long, Texas. Hello, Florida!”

“You should have the Florence University of the Arts send your things to Monica at Casa Bambino Roma.” I sorta took charge. Sorta. “Your credits will transfer to the University of Central Florida, and to the University of South Florida. From there to any institution you chose. UCF is the closest large school to the house at the Cape.”

“UCF is my choice. It’s a huge university and I can major in art and design or anything else.” Stephie was on board. “You hotelier types can study every facet of the Hospitality Industry in detail.”

With that declaration, our future was sealed. All the non-Florida girls began lobbying parents, schools and sports teams for transcripts, records and recommendations. Most had everything printed in triplicate. One set sent to my office at the Cape where it would be safe. Another set sent to the office at Monica’s. The last set was to go with the applications. I would guarantee the expenses in case the applications arrived too late for scholarship consideration.

I did not see that happening. Besides, most of cast of regulars were still in high or middle school. The majority of the European girls might test ahead of where they would be in the US, going by age alone but they were not college aged yet. The Smythe sisters and Carla Gamboa were the only ones I knew were going to college. Of the American girls, Stephanie Collins, Patricia Stevens and Sylvia St. John were in a university somewhere. Maxine Cotton, Angie Abrams and Shirley Barnes would skip a grade and go straight to college based on their accomplishments. Universities love really smart people.

This also meant that we had to be home at the end of July, to visit the campus and to get the applications in as soon as possible or sooner, if possible. Sooner than possible? It’s complicated. Not to be confused with ‘better than perfect’. That is a whole ‘nother discussion.

The regular neighborhood kids plus Lilly, Teri and Charity would attend school as usual. No biggie, they were all three adopted. Except getting transcripts for Lilly would be impossible and Teri’s would be merely difficult without getting Mom involved. The school could do the heavy lifting for Charity. Probably for Teri, too. Just have them send all correspondence to Dad.

Then there were the European girls. Did I have to go through a bunch of exchange student and immigration red tape? Then, I could be imagining it to be more difficult than it is. Maybe I could simply enroll the whole group and act like everything was normal and in order. Maybe it was.

If push came to shove, I could hire certified tutors and have the rest of the Europeans home schooled. I don’t know how big a chore that might be. I kinda think some powerful friends would make problems disappear.

I wanted to know if it was safe to return to the resort. First, I called NSA Special Agent Harlan Ripley for a threat assessment. Fortunately, Ripley took the call.

“What can I do for you, Dr. Charles?” He sounded cheerful. He could have been faking it, too. Spooks do that sometimes.

“Thanks for talking to me, Agent Ripley. We need to know if we are still in immediate danger. Is it safe to go out and about?” I explained quickly, so as not to offend. “I know you folks have done an excellent job keeping us alive but our vacation is beginning to look like incarceration.”

“Excuse me, Dr. Charles, but it was your people who have made all this go as smoothly as it has. It was your intel and analysis that allowed us to avert serious disasters several times.” He sputtered at the thought that we owed them something more. “There were spies under most beds. That is not a great exaggeration. Please, without your info, major radioactive pollution would be spread around the world, NASA would be compromised, OPEC controlled by thugs and murderers, and the terrorist network would have it’s armory and training centers operating under our noses.”

“But can we leave the safe house?” I asked again.

“I will give you a confident probably. The round-ups and disruption activities are keeping the leadership off balance. They make mistakes and we arrest more bad guys. Really bad guys.” He laughed. “I know I sound like a cheesy lawyer, but a conditional OK is the best you’ll get. But I can say that you are not their largest problem. Various black ops organizations are keeping them busy staying alive. We are working our way up the ladder.”

“I suppose other criminal enterprises will have been compromised. The human trafficking, contraband weapons and armaments, and drug cartels must been damaged through association with the terrorists and murder-for-fun crowd?” I chuckled. “Gotta love unintended benefits.”

“I can neither confirm nor deny that assumption. But you can feel safer traveling around Europe as long as you manage to avoid attracting attention and making trouble.” Now he really laughed. “After reading your dossier, I realize that’s asking a lot. Give it a try anyway.”

Before ringing off, he suggested I contact Vito Gamboa and make arrangements for the next six weeks. That could wait for the opinion poll. I gathered the girls.

“OK, ladies, the next issue on the agenda is basically ‘Do we stay or do we go?’ Life is good here, but is that enough? Where do we go and what do we do next?”

The summary: Shopping, sightseeing, beaches, shopping, antiquities, art, museums, history, travel, birthday fun, beaches, mountains, shopping, etc.

The conclusion: We would stick primarily to Italy, use the resort as our home base and keep our eyes open. Like that was a big surprise. Kiddo picked Venice and environs; Venice is where we would stay.

Gina spoke to her mama about the progress on remodeling/combining of our suites on the second floor. Elena brought us up-to-date.

“Of course, we were delayed by the assault and the subsequent damages. Since you all were safe at the bungalow, we concentrated our efforts on repairing the more public areas.” She sounded oddly apologetic. “A crew is upstairs working again. The new floor-through suite will be ready for occupancy by Saturday, latest.”

“So we can come home in three days, Mama?” Our sweet concierge asked. “Can you put enough bedding and furniture in for thirty girls and Don Theodore, too.”

“Yes, you can come home in three days. Your Papa, my sisters, Lady Millicent and I saw this coming. Plans were made for increased sleeping arrangements. The girls might be closer than before, but I think they will not be uncomfortable.”

She did not say the group would readily accept less than the best available, but the quarters did not have to be marble and gold, either. Elena went on to suggest teen girls were less interested in luxurious accommodations than the pristine beaches, exclusive boutiques and proximity to more of the same nearby.

“Thanks, Mama. It’s not what you expected to build for the future, but you will be able to refurnish the space when this Mobile Menagerie is gone. We’re sorry about the trouble we caused.”

“Think nothing of it, Gina. We avoided complete destruction thanks to your resourceful friends. We saved more than the cost of the renovations we were going to do in the near future anyway.” Dona Elena reassured her middle daughter. “The design specs make changes easy. That is the point. Your Papa wants a large, customizable space we can adapt to the guests’ comfort and security needs. There are seven bedrooms, an office and kitchen. The entire generous outer hall is now one living room and entertainment center. We can move the office out to the living area and convert the original office into another bedroom. Bring in some extra large bunk beds and thirty-one people have room to relax and chill out.”