Chapter 29

I called Billi downstairs, “Sweety, if things are quiet outside, have the Pennys escort you five back to Amsterdam. We still have a little time to beat the Marks Brothers delivery. The trips and I will be along later after we tidy up here. Have any word from West End Med.?”

These were teen girls with digital phones. They had word from everyone. That’s what they do.

“Jean and Jane took Dr. Phoebe to work after Nell and the girls left. Both are armed. Jane called to say Maggie is awake and ‘sorry to be a such a bother’. Dr. Dunhill is optimistic she will recover quickly and be home in a coupe of days. Nat is with Ms Clinton on a walkabout. She will probably hire Ten Penny to survey the security arrangements. She could do worse.”

“Have Nell call me on the sat phone then go ahead and start home. Be safe. You did good.”

Carol started giggling. “Mark, I entered the first number into ‘Google’. You will not believe what came up. The number is in an office building near Broad Street. It’s registered to the ‘Conservatives United for New Times’.”

Anne started patting the border wall, “Drum roll, wait for it, wait for it...”

“Colonel is about to send a rapid response team to raid those C.U.N.T.s on Beaver Street!”

“Stop me before I kill again! Billings is going to think I set him up. Jeez.” I chuckled. “Max is going to have a field day with this.”

“You can’t make this stuff up. Are they that naïve, stupid or cocky?” Beth speculated.

“Offensively tacky.” Carol decided. “Whereas, ‘AIR/BRA’ is innocently descriptive and perfectly appropriate. Hey! Look! The connection is cut. Billings must be hitting that thang!”

“Quick. Call my cell phone from here.” I ordered. “Caller id is a good thing.” Anne dialed me up twice and we knew our new numbers. Beth googled both and found out they were owned by Hunter Perkins, presently in route to an undisclosed location. I slipped into a backdoor in the telco billing department.

Our CIA implant looked to the future. The charges were five years prepaid for local service only as if the lines were dial-up computer connections to an ISP in Manhattan. Mr. Perkins had the full package, call waiting, call forwarding, caller id, voice mail and remote access to the service. The password was ‘spook’.

While visiting I had the name changed to Shadow Mystic Services. We had comms back when the trips disconnected the wireless phones.

Nell called. “What can I do for you?”

“Another evil plan. Can you move our repeater to the box where the suspect wires lead?”

“Sure. One defunct junction box is as good as another. We are using the conduit pipes as an antenna, so location is a matter of convenience.”

“Good news, they don’t have our frequencies. Comms are secure again. Better, we took control, Billings seized their monitoring center and we have two telco landlines and an AC source to play with up here.” I told her quickly. “I want you and Shorty to get two inexpensive telephones, replace the wireless units here and use the power to supplant the batteries on our equipment when you move it over.”

“Easy enough. A 12-volt adapter will do the trick. Who buys the power?”

“Probably a forgotten circuit hooked up with the corridor lights on the top floor. If we lose power, I’ll worry about it then. While you’re up here, make certain the asshats didn’t damage your toys. Inputs and out puts were physically rerouted to the hard lines so wires were cut and spliced. Spruce it up. The cable guys had a complete took box. We’ll leave it and you bring it home. I’ll warn management.”

“Cheap phones on Fifth Avenue? There’s always Radio Shack. The guys are taking the girls home in a couple of cabs. After that, they will coordinate with Laura to get Phoebe moved to the Annex. I want to talk to Mavis and Ella about the coverage at West End for Maggie and her Grandfather’s transfer to a hospice. Sioux is at your house and, according to Amy, the delivery is ten minutes out. She’s using the big freight elevator for cover.”

“If Belle clears it, take Shorty with you to the hospital. Stay frosty. We kicked another wasp’s nest today. Stay safe and we’ll see you at the house whenever.”

The triplets waited for me to give the word. “Two more calls, ladies and we roll.”

One was to Ms Clinton. “Sorry to take your time, Ma’am, but we’re securing the roof and will be up and down a few more times. I will send the evaluation by Monday. Again, you have a good crew here. Compliments to the boss.”

“That would be me, sir. Thank you.”

Amy was next. “Called to give you a mild warning. We stirred the pot today and scum floats. The blame should fall on the spooks but the buttheads might have a poke at us for old time’s sake. You can use the earwigs again on channels A and B. C is not confirmed. Call me on my sat phone.”

Now one-on-one, “Amy. Top drawer, red file cabinet is a little blue box. Before you do anything in public, press and hold both green buttons while you turn the white knob all the way to the right. Disrupts all cell phone traffic. If you have to go hot, we don’t want it on Youtube. Understand?”

“No witness is good witness. You and the Bakers coming soon? I could use a hand when Marks Brothers get here. Emma and I are stretched pretty thin now. Elevated threat potential makes me nervous.”

“Be there in fifteen minutes, dear. Be safe. Take care of the girls.”

The Bakers and I hightailed it down and out. Nell and Tina were talking to Georgia Clinton and the others girls were gone. I caught Tina’s eye, pointed to my ear and gave a thumb’s up. We waved to Clinton before stepping out to hail a cab.

“Makes you miss the door-to-door hummer service, doesn’t it?” Anne moaned.

“The service, yes. The reason, no.” Carol smiled, “Not that we’re in the clear yet, but we have confused ‘em for a few hours. I’ll trade trains for terrorists any time.”

We traveled two long blocks before I put my ear in. “Amy, Emma, you on?”

“Sir, You coming home?”

“Damn straight.”

“Piper. Cat here.”

“Outdoor sit rep?” We’re close to Columbus Circle, about to head up Broadway.

“Nothing out of the ordinary. But in New York, what is extraordinary?” I could hear her shrug. “Lunch hour strollers, tourists and such should discourage ambitious action outdoors.”

Kelli interrupted. “Sorry to cut in uninvited, but you, your sisters Vicki and I did not cause that much of a stir two days ago. ‘Extraordinary’ is hard to pin down.”

“This conversation is not private, Ms James. Choose your next words carefully.” I cautioned. “Judge the situation, then see the changes. Does crazy get calm? Are there too many people all of a sudden or does the street clear?”

“So I don’t need to define the tenor, I just need to see it change, or not.”

“That’s what he said. Extremes change. Find out why.” Amy agreed, “Doesn’t matter today, though. They aren’t going to get in our house, Sir. I take trespassing real personal.”

“Z-Girls with heavy weapons and bad attitudes make me proud.” I laughed, “We’ll be there soon. Get the Trips to tell you the name of our eavesdroppers, easily the funniest thing all day.”

“Amy. Nat here. The girls are one minute out. Two cabs. Make a hole.”

“Sioux, Emma, positions. Z-Girls like we practiced. Stars, Toon, Skeeter, rear guard is yours. What Sir said, look for changes. Snipers, weapons up. Max, Eve, Ellie, and Diane, form the corridor, collapse behind.” Amy snapped the drill. “Coder, Rock. All five at once. We’re armored, rover girls. You’re not. Let us deal. The door will be open.”

The cabs pulled to the curb. “Now, bring ‘em home!” She damped the local cell phones. “Pennys, you’re on!”

I wish I had been there to see it. Amy had it covered as well as a field commander could. I did see it on my door camera recording later. At the time, the Bakers and I were walking from Broadway on 68th Street.

Outside, the Pennys turned icy. They saw trouble coming and closed in on the taxis, extending the safe zone to the street.

Four opportunists pulled knives and attempted to attack our guards. Attempted is the operative word. Shouting “Knife” at the top of their lungs, Diane and Ellie got one and Max and Eve stopped another. Cat and Sioux got one each. Nat and Smitty rushed the five girls in as Leigh and Emma tossed the assailants in a cab. The guys piled in with the crooks and shouted directions for the Twentieth Precinct. Emma threw a fifty in the remaining cab, flashed her badge, sending him on his way, roaring, “Move, move, move.”

Everyone left on the sidewalk backed into the door. Diane was last in and saw a few dozen people cursing their camera phones. She exploded in rage. “You people fucking disgust me! You let four assholes attack school girls with knives and just stand there hoping to get a damn murder to post on your Facebook page. You bastards wait until some mugger has you down on the ground with a gun at your head. I hope another media whore treats you the same while you bleed out. Won’t your family be glad to see you die alone in a crowd while some gore porn junkie just like you gets rich selling advertising on their page?”

She jumped at the shocked onlookers and pointed up. “Yeah, my camera works. Now get the hell out of my sight before I go viral on your crap crusted asses.”

She spit on the sidewalk and slammed the door. “I feel much better now.”

The feeling better part was hearsay, but the rest was on high quality DVD.

On 68th Street we spotted the delivery truck waiting to back into the freight entrance. The men in the front looked familiar when they waved so I spoke to the house. “You girls ready for the Marks Brothers yet?”

“Not so much right now,” Amy said. “We loaded in the Tanners, Frieda and Billi. Met some opposition but we have it under control. Toon, you girls take care of it. We’ll be over in a minute, Sir.”

“I heard. Clockwork. You all OK?”

“Diane’s a little annoyed still, but she’ll calm down soon. Welcome home.”

“We’ll mind the street while the rear guard guides the truck in.”

For once today, something happened without a huge hassle. We didn’t get ambushed, shot at or invaded while the girls and I unloaded the furniture. But we were inside. Amy still posted a watch at the front doors.

After we let the truck out and resealed the freight door, I called Phoebe. “Tell me things, mother of my kids.”

“I can tell you plenty, Mark.” She did have a nice laugh. “Maggie is excellent, better than we could have wished. Rocky says we can take her home tomorrow if nothing goes wrong.”

“Wonderful. I hate her being away from the group.” I sighed relief. “She’ll heal faster with three dozen nurses. Will she have company tonight?”

“Laura Belkin, Mavis and Ella have organized a group of their uniformed friends who will spend off duty time here in rotating four hour shifts. The hospital board of directors is picking up the tab for increased security and privacy for our normal patients.”

“If visiting dignitaries, show biz stars, the rich and famous are considered normal, it’s a wise move. Will you have an escort of sorts when you come here to do the walkthrough with Mr. Maitland? The appointment is in ninety minutes.”

“All of the senior staff and ‘clients’ will have bodyguards when traveling from now on. Ten Penny Personal Security will be the umbrella organization coordinating the transition. We can afford it and it is a good practice that makes the patients happy. The networks and agents are overjoyed.”

“People have been busy! How did that happen so fast?”

“Our public information director knows who to know. She called the right decision makers and everyone bought into the concept.” Phoebe answered, “The #1 box office name might be raking in the money, but it’s nothing to what the studios make. The rich get rich by protecting their investments.”

“Will they help you with the move to Manhattan? Laura will be understaffed until she gets some of her positions filled.”

“Mavis called some more friends. Cops are eager to supplement the not huge income they get on the job. This is a legit way to pick up some extra money. They will rent a truck and be union scale movers when the time comes.”

“When? Is everything all right in Queens?”

“Yes and no. We had an incident at the Corona Park house. Your Colonel Billings sent a forensics team to execute a search warrant and interrupted a bunch of Barrett’s inept pals purging his files. People were killed in my living room. All of the rebels died and two of the scientists were critically injured. Your spooks are pissed. The house is a closed crime scene.”

“Collecting evidence related to Wagner’s activities is the reason the place is sealed. The shoot was righteous. I bet the Feds have that wrapped already and are tracking the stiffs.”

“Mark, last week I worked at one of the most prestigious medical complexes in the world, was indirectly connected to the power players in Washington, D.C., and treated the rich and famous in a state-of-the-art hospital. I lived in a good neighborhood in Queens with two beautiful daughters and an OK, but increasingly detached, husband.” She paused, “Last night my world changed completely. Today, I just want to get a few memories from that old life and walk into the future. That house has to go. It can never be our home again.”

“You have to tell prospective buyers about termites, floods, asbestos insulation, sinkholes and known hazards. I’m sure crime scenes, murders and poltergeists are on the list. Selling it will be a challenge. We’ll see my realtor in a couple hours and quiz him.” I said, “But some people are pretty twisted. He may have a market for death scene houses.”

“I really have to sell the house. Setting up a fully equipped clinic from scratch is astronomically expensive. Minimal staff has to include a receptionist/clerk, nurse practitioner, technicians and an orderly. I need an X-ray machine and a CAT scan. The beds, examination tables, new diagnostic tools, a mini-lab, microscopes, autoclaves, data processing, information storage, reference library, pharmaceuticals, supply storage, refrigeration, isolation chambers and the list goes on for days, weeks even. The FDA, OSHA and AMA will be all over the place. My rediscovered windfall may not be enough to cover the start-up.”

“Even if you can sell the Corona Park house, it has to get through Probate Court. Let me buy the brownstone and finish the living space as a business expense. Beth already put down earnest money from one of our shared accounts at Allyn Intermedia Research/Baker Resource Agency. We can complete the purchase and lease it to you for a dollar per month.” I suggested, “You use your money to establish the clinic. Amy and the Z-Girls, with your input, will take care of the interior decoration at my expense. That is, if you like the layout and location.”

“A fine gentleman offering to buy me a house? How can I refuse? I’m all about the location and courtyard for the girls. The layout looks good on paper, but I will be at Mr. Buck Maitland’s door soon to see it in person.”

“Buy you a house? Not so fast! Offering to lease you a house is something else altogether.” I laughed, “I’m merely buying a brownstone and looking for a gullible, errrh... , dependable tenant. Don’t expect the security deposit back. A good slumlord has industry standards to meet!”

Razzberries.

“Seriously, Phoebe, I can and will give you whatever you need to get established. Once you get the doors open, referrals and reputation will take care of the rest.”

She needed to do her rounds, check in one last time with Maggie and do the case reviews with the next shift. There weren’t that many patients, but a Tony Award winning actress with chest pains, a lead ballerina with a twisted knee and a few sitcom stars with mysterious ailments were a big deal. Maggie was the sole oncology case in house.

Phoebe asked me to forget about the death metal band from Bonn and the rogue groupies from Copenhagen with five-alarm multi-medication issues. Their diplomatic immunity did not shield them from bad psychedelics, nor did it void contractual obligations. ‘The Black Pus Oozers’ must be at Madison Square Garden ready to play tonight or risk problems between Germany and Denmark. Not the armies, just the agents, mothers and tour organizers. MADD, ASCAP, USIA, ASCAP, and BMI were scarier than your average international cultural exchange.

HIPAA regulations have no wiggle room. Information given to medical staff, overheard or on a chart is sacrosanct. However, if the patient speaks to non HIPAA signers, it’s open season. Hospital personnel keep potential gossips away in order to protect celebrities from themselves. She swore me to secrecy because Jean and Jane were pressed into service as translators and learned all the band dirt: where they got the contraband, which little Danish pastries were underaged and who was in the booth making the cacophony palatable. It was certainly not the ‘musicians’. They were too busy being evolved beyond the mundane prison of conventional artistic modalities to actually know how to make noise that didn’t make ears bleed.

Or so they said.

She did not know my Z-Girls were among the best secret protectors ever born. The Baxters were no exception. They also knew when to give a sales pitch to a captive audience.

The twins signed the band to a large shirt contract. Jane faxed it to Rose and the screeners arranged delivery to the merch windows before the intermission lights came up. Souvenirs arriving under armed guard were a good touch. The Bright Stars were not above the modalities of capitalism. Value is perception. Damn, they were good!

For the guys, solid black cotton jersey tees with a draining boil in red on the back, and for the girls, semi-sheer smoke Airwear crop-tops, with the boil, in solid silver, laser-fused above the left tit. The band bought them for $40.00 each, prepaid. At a retail cost to the public of $80.00, they would sell out both 50 dozen piece production runs at the first break.

Uber-cool in NYC comes with a price. Bright Star made a very respectable $45,000 for a half-day’s work.

Taking the Evans Sisters’ advice, Rose committed to a triple order if the ‘Black Pus Oozers’ survived for the second night. The tees were a wholesale stock item. The promoters hired Nat and Smitty as temporary bodyguards/babysitters for the run in New York. That made Laura happy.

A huge inroad into the European rock market made Roadie Magic happy.

Never a dull moment when you are dealing with chemically enhanced crazy people and their wealthy fans.

On the home front, I confirmed the appointments with my paper handler cadre and moved some money to the bank.

Good news. All four would be here at 3:45. The boys had greased the wheels well. The title search was clean; Buck Maitland owned the property free and clear. All we needed were my money, autographs and copies. Albert even remembered his paralegal notary. They were reconciled to the fact that I seldom took their advice and had the paper work with my name as the buyer and owner prepared. Et cetera with whatever insurance agents and clever real estate agents do.

With everything on schedule again, I checked in with the girls. They had the temp quarters prepped and were working on expanding the dorm space. A couple dozen motivated girls made for short work. The balance of the furniture and the beginnings of the enlarged study area would arrive Monday.

My daughters, abetted by Max, Sam and Linh, kept busy spending Daddy’s money online. Apparently, Marcy and Carly needed new everything from the best stores. Overnight. Saturday delivery. The sprouts were into shared wardrobes, but the body types were so different, there was nothing much to share. They were deeply into tits versus height comparisons, so I went on up to my floor to shower and dress for business. Barring emergencies, Phoebe would meet with Mr. Maitland and the Baxters would be home in thirty minutes.

This time I had two shower buddies, Caralyn and Leigh. Leigh! Toon wanted to help her Master in any way she could and Sioux, forever focused on being the best soldier she could be, was inexperienced to say the least and curious about the girls’ strong attraction to me. Of course, she knew what there was to know of sex in the abstract, but shockingly had no practical field training at the ripe old age of twenty-one.

Caralyn, at fourteen, having been thoroughly and joyously fucked in every hole, found this wrong in so many ways. She was on a mission to make things right in our world. Part of that mission was to fix Leigh Blackfeather.

Separated from the herd like a calf at branding time, Leigh got the irresistible ‘Nell in the dance studio’ treatment. That is to say, she was gently hypnotized, stripped naked, depilated and presented to the Alpha male of the house for inspection. That would be me. Inspect the pliable beauty I did. From her cute little toes, to her muscular but smoothly rounded ass, to her flat stomach and proudly firm tits, I missed nothing.

Toon is a force of nature. Sioux never had a chance. Her rock solid nipples made it obvious she didn’t want one, as Caralyn whispered and cooed constantly in her ear. “Don’t you love how he touches the right places? The spot just above your wet pussy, who knew how sensitive it is? Feel him play with your nipples? See how they get so hard you can’t stand it?”

Her constant litany had Leigh weak-kneed in minutes. So weak, Toon pulled her to the floor and gave deepthroat lessons. “Straighten your neck, when his dick touches the back, swallow, let him slip down your throat.” Fondling her boobs and rubbing Leigh’s cunt from behind, the teacher continued, “Good girl, just like that. Careful, Master’s newest cocksucker, no teeth or I won’t let you come. You don’t want that, now do you?”

Toon had me ready to spew in minutes. “He’s going to come in your mouth, Sioux baby. Swallow it all. Spill a single drop and I will spank your bubble butt until you beg for more. I know you will. The idea makes your pussy even wetter. Wow!”

I face fucked the newest Penny until my balls emptied the first load of the day down her throat. Toon tweaked her clit in perfect sync, sending Leigh into spasms of her own.

“Isn’t it sweet the way she offered her naked tits to you? Such a good student, Leigh craves more.” Caralyn beamed, “That’s the first time she ever sucked dick, Master. Did she do it right?”

“You taught her well, my slave girl. As much as I want her hot cunt wrapped around my cock, I’ll have her cherry for dessert another time, perhaps in the dungeon with the Ellis twins.” I exited the shower immediately and began to get dressed. “Business calls. Later, girls. Toon, send me the Bakers, Billi, Amy, the sprouts and my sisters. I have a building to buy.”

I looked Sioux over carefully. “Naked suits you, dear. I will be very pleased if you are naked for me whenever possible. Have Caralyn find a solid silver toga dress to wear around the house. She will select appropriate nipple accessories. We’ll talk about your collar after we fuck.”

It was time to go down to the lobby to meet Phoebe and the Baxters, so I left Toon and Sioux in my shower stall. Jean and Jane were waiting without Phoebe. “Dr. McLean had to stay. Bentley meets West Side Highway support column, DUI, un-rehabbed teen heartthrob, and tabloid fodder. Another day in the life of the Trauma Queen. She wants you to do the deal with Mr. Maitland.” Jean announced. “Mavis and Ella brought us home in a squad car.”

“No problem, girls. Thanks for taking care of Maggie today. How’s she holding out?”

“The perfect impatient patient, she wants to come home. Worried about her grandfather. Otherwise, ahead of expectations.” Jane answered, “She showed us the incisions. The surgeon was good. The scars will be nearly invisible. Maggie will still look good in and out of Airwear.”