Chapter 3

First on our list to be freed was Renee Truesoul. This was only because she was the closest to us here in San Diego, California. She was being held in a walled three acre estate on the outskirts of the City of Palm Desert guarded by a force of at least five men and three women. Renee was not the only enslaved woman there. There was an assortment of mainly Mexican, some Chinese and Russians, a smattering of other nationalities, and even a few domestic Americans thrown in for good measure there too. The only thing they all had in common was they were all extremely beautiful and all hooked on the drugs they were being given. None of these women were immigrants fleeing the poverty or oppression of their native lands. All of them had been chosen and lured here with the promise of high paying domestic jobs only to be imprisoned and become drug addicted sexually abused prostitutes when they got here.

Some of the women had thoughts of escape only to discover the ankle bracelets they were all forced to wear, and were virtually impossible to get off without special tools they didn’t have, were also electroshock devices they soon discovered if they kept trying to get them off. A few of the smarter women eventually figured out that they could use paper to insulate their ankles from the shock and escaped. They then learned that the ankle bracelets were also sophisticated tracking devices being monitored 24/7 by a special unit of the uniformed City of Palm Desert’s EMU, Emergency Management Unit.

So far none of the women that had managed to escape the compound had even managed to make it out of the city limits. It took most of the fight out of the women when they were found and brought back in marked city police squad cars by uniformed city police officers. After that most of the women, if not all, knew there was no place to run and gave up admitting defeat.

Renee was not to be a common drug addicted whore like the women she was with, she was the personal untouchable property of the manager of Rancho Deloris, Herman Sanshaz. Rancho Deloris itself was a totally Company owned and controlled asset and Renee was a gift to Herman Sanshaz. She was also an advertisement of the new service the Company could provide now. The Company was sure that after word got out about what a devoted slave Renee had become, without the use of any drugs or other physical abuse, the orders would come poring in from their select wealthy elite perverted clientele.

I’m sure with the Twin’s help we could have just waltzed in like we did in Liz’s office and walked out with Renee in tow. I mean we had already breached their server’s secure network and had control of all the locks and cameras. Of course this time the Company had off site backup storage that would have pictures of us we couldn’t reach to erase, a highly unwanted thing in our lives right now, ha, ha. So in the end we decided to handle it as a two part operation.

First part of the plan was to have a massive raid staged on the Rancho compound itself. We wanted everybody in there pulled in and arrested at the same time. To do that we used Homeland Security troops and the threat of a bio weapon being smuggled into the country by an illegal immigrant.

Alice and Brandy, our hackers, were able to get into the Department of Homeland Security’s servers and made it appear that several of their former reliable confidential informer resources knew there was a bio weapon being held by a dangerous group of armed foreign terrorist at the Rancho. Spreading the rumor that the bio weapon might be moved at any moment got them priority federal search warrants to stage the massive raid on the compound as an imitate threat to public safety. It was all done so fast and smoothly that word of the raid didn’t leak out to the criminal element running the Rancho until it was too late to run or do anything about the raid.

Once the main gate was breached the force guarding the compound surrendered without a shot being fired. In no time the private security guards and staff were all restrained and awaiting transport to a secure holding facility for interrogation. Meanwhile the women were all rounded up and restrained too. Altogether there were thirty two women in the locked barrack like building that housed them.

After it was confirmed that there was no bio threat on the women they were being prepared for shipment to a DHS holding facility when Immigration Control and Enforcement, ICE, showed up with papers taking custody of them. DHS itself was more than glad to get them all off their hands. So the thirty two women including Renee Truesoul effectively disappeared without a trace into our hands. We were the ICE people. Nobody even remembering if the ICE people were male or female in the end. We just faded into the woodwork.

Orange County, California has some of the best agencies in the country for treating abused, battered, and exploited women. After removing all the ankle bracelets, where they couldn’t be traced easily, we made sure the thirty one women got to one of the better reputable women’s shelters for needed counseling and adjustment. We knew they would get the help they needed by making a large anonymous donation to the agency taking care of them. We also made some important friends we would need latter after we freed the others at the same time.

That left us with one very mad, very angry, and very verbal sex slave demanding to be returned to her “Rightful Master”. Who knew slaves had rights??

“Well it’s been 24 hours and she hasn’t tried to jump out the window, but is she ever going to stop demanding to be returned to her “Rightful Master”.” Billy angrily asked us all.

“What are you complaining about? I’ve been waiting for her to run down for hours where I can hypnotize her Billy, and she just keeps going and going like the damn Energizer Bunny. I’m beginning to think I’ll just get Liz to load up a syringe of 141 and see if that works on her.” I explained to Billy.

“With 141 Eddie we could have cleaned up the other thirty one women and assured their complete recovery from the drugs they were addicted to.” Alice voiced her complaint as she joined our discussion.

“Yes, and we would also have to feed and cloth them and all those other necessary things Alice. Getting bigger and bigger and harder and harder to be ignored by the people that are looking for us. Ladies we’re trying to keep a low profile here, and certainly not trying to become the next Campfire Girls, or Girl Scouts of America.” I reminded everybody.

“Besides we can ... we will ... keep an eye on them and make sure they get any additional help they need. Well won’t we Twins?” Uremia finished up when it looked like Patty and Cathy were going to take it further than Alice.

“So lets get this straight you want to hypnotize Renee with 141 and then convince her that her Master ... this Herman Sanshaz guy ... this 50 year old former Latino gang member is dead now.” Billy summed up the situation we had.

“Well yes. She is firmly convinced she is his property. In her mind they are mated for life. Well that’s the closest we can get to their totally screwed up relationship Billy. Even with 141 I can’t get her to move on. In her mind this asshole is her Master, and she is his property, and that’s it. The only way I see to break the impasse is to convince her that he is dead. It’s the only thing left to try. We have to find out what she’ll ... well what all the women will do when told ... no ... no that isn’t right either, when they’re convinced their Master is dead.” I explained what I was working on.

“Hey! If you really need that asshole dead me and Brandy can get him released covertly and you can...” Alice was interrupted by Billy.

“I’ll personally shoot the son-of-a-bitch in front of her if that’s all it takes.” Billy finished for all the women. Billy still had issues with men as you can see.

“Ladies we don’t dare really kill him because we really don’t know what will happen to Renee and the other women if we do. We just need to make our ... our ... well our little play ... stage show production I guess you would have to say ... a little bit more realistic for our audience of one Renee. And No, ABSOLUTELY NO LADIES! We don’t want to actually kill the asshole. We might need him to stabilize her if she goes all suicidal on us thinking he’s dead.” I belatedly explained to my girls.

“You remember that warning about they go kookoo insane if there isn’t a Master there to claim them in 24 hours. Well think about it, what if there’s some law, or rule, or Hell I don’t know instinct maybe, that tells them they have to seek death if their Master dies. Maybe they have a ... a ... an instinct to seek out a new master, or they go kookoo? Like they won’t eat, or go catatonic on us, or something like that.” I threw my hands up in the air and tried to explain what I was thinking. I didn’t know anything for sure.

“You think they might suicide on us Eddie?” Cathy and Patty asked together in alarm.

“Well some geese do when they loose their mate and that’s what I’m going by here.” I told everyone.

“I guess that’s good enough for now.” Billy conceded defeat for now.

“Usually it’s you two telling me what to expect, but both of you have been quite on this? Why?” I got around to asking the Twins.

“For some reason we don’t get a clear read on what happens to these women, other than they live ... well don’t die anyway and appear to be happy ... well not sad anyway ... in the future. Oh!, and they appear to have a relationship with you Eddie, but it’s a very confusing relationship, if that helps any.” Cathy and Patty answered together.

So we put on our little skit for a very deeply hypnotized and 141 entranced Renee. We very convincingly executed, fake blood and everything, a mock Herman Sanshaz in front of her. When she didn’t immediately go catatonic on us we figured that was a good sign. When another 6 hours went by and she didn’t immediately suicide on us we were feeling better. When 12 hours passed and she hadn’t gone on a hunger strike either we figured we were out of the woods. In the end we discovered that it did break the imprint. They did once again realize that they, well Renee anyway, were no longer property and had personal rights again. In other words they were persons not slaves again.

I have never actually insisted that any of my women call me Master or even Sir for that matter. So when Patty directed me to direct Renee to call me Master while she wasn’t tranced I did questioned it, but did it anyway without complaint. Well I started to object but the Twins were so intense I followed their orders without question when they both looked at me that way.

We all discovered that the request, not a command mind you, set off all kinds of deep internal conflicts within fully awake Renee. In fact I had to trance her again and withdraw the mere suggestion before she melted down on us. We reasoned that there is very little likelihood that any of these women we intend to rescue will ever closely bond with any other male, even me evidently, but especially one wanting to be their Master again.

In fact Uremia speculated it could be hazardous to any want-to-be master’s life to try. Of course Renee still has her hypnotic triggers and we don’t really know how this will all turn out in the end. What will happen to Renee is pretty well up to Renee right now. Only time will tell.

You know the one about, if you have an infinite number of monkeys, and an infinite number of typewriters, with an infinite amount of time they’ll eventually pound out the Constitution or Bible or whatever. Well evidentially the Company had an infinite supply of monkeys anyway. Well make that Orange County detectives anyway.

We thought we got away clean, but weeks later two Orange County plainclothes detectives showed up on my doorsteps. By this time I considered that it was impossible for the Company to find us, well me anyway. I can only assume that the Company was systematically going through the entire list of every male passenger that had arrived at the airport that night and half way fit my profile.

I guess we were lucky it was a busy night at the airport, lighting conditions were bad, and I had been delayed after I landed by a phone call from a former client wanting a little free advice about his upcoming divorce. I guess it was a good thing too that I decided to get a coke and hamburger at the burger joint in the terminal and share my experience with the kid over the phone. By the way anybody under 40 is a kid to me.

Years ago I had an office, a secretary, and all the other things a practicing attorney has to have, but right now I was really retired and ran everything out of my house. I was only here at my house today to pick up some things I needed back at the Bat Cave. They must have had my house under surveillance because as I was leaving my house they pulled up in the driveway blocking my car and approached me flashing their badges as they came.

“Your kind of a hard man to run down Mister Simmons. Where have you been for the last week?” The short aggressive one demanded.

“I’ve been out of town, but I’m still in the phone book officers, why didn’t you just call and make an appointment? Why was it so important to see me in person officer? ... officers? What is your badge number?” I asked trying to appear relaxed and pleasant while feeling anything but.

“We wanted to met you in person Mister Simmons to be sure of identification. We want to know exactly where you’ve been for the last week Mister Simmons.” Shorty demanded.

“That’s none of your damn business. Now get out of my way I have places to be and things to do gentlemen.” I pushed back. If they had anything they wouldn’t be talking to me I reasoned and this short detective was rubbing me the wrong way.

“You can answer our questions here and now or we can drag you ass downtown to the station and waste all our time and good tax payers money Simmons. It’s your choice?” The tall one put in. I guess he was playing good cop to shortee’s bad cop in the old “good cop bad cop routine”, ha, ha.

“Ok, what do you want?” I asked, not willing to see if they would go that far and use force.

“On August 4th you came in on a American Air flight from Dallas, Texas. It arrived at 8pm. We want to know what you did after you arrived that night.” The tall one went on.

“I picked up my baggage and went home.” I answered.

“You picked up your car from paid parking and went home?” The tall one continued.

“No I called my niece and she picked me up out front.” I bluffed it out. Sure I didn’t have a niece, but unless they had done a lot of research they wouldn’t know that. If they did know I was in big trouble and I might as well find out now I reasoned as I stood there.

“You didn’t use a taxi from out front?” The short one questioned me.

“No she picked me up out front. Is that all officers?” I pushed back.

“Can we have her name.” The tall one asked.

“Sure if you have the proper warrant officer. No!, I don’t want you and your partner annoying my niece like your annoying me right now officers. Is that it?” I pushed back hard.

“For now Mister Simmons. For now.” The tall one said.

“Well I’m not finished...” The short one started.

“Yes you are Sam. Don’t leave town Mister Simmons. We may want to talk to you again.” The tall one said as he pulled Sam away.

“I still...” Sam continued as he was pulled away.

“We’re finished with Mister Simmons for now Sam.” The tall one told his partner and they walked away. I could feel that they were extremely unhappy, but couldn’t do anything about it at this time. I would have to do something about it before there was a next time I reasoned to myself.

Acting on a hunch I checked my bug detector in the car and sure enough there was a tracer on my little car now. Since I was now under surveillance I had to figure out how to contact my harem without going there. I was still thinking about it when my cell buzzed. Checking I found it was Cathy.

“Eddie this is Cathy. Don’t come back to the Cave tonight stay at your place, and don’t call us we’ll call you. They are not listening yet, but they are getting a list of who you call. They are trying to get a legal wiretap, but so far it’s been refused. We don’t know how far they will go illegally. Be careful Eddie.” Cathy told me.

“Is it Ok to talk?” I asked.

“It should be. Why?” Cathy responded.

“Just wanted to tell you all to be safe too, and I love all of you.” I was telling Cathy as a cold shiver walked up and down my spine. While in the Marines I had once been paired with a black boy from Louisiana as point men on a scout patrol. He bragged a lot and claimed to us all the time that his Momma was a direct descendant of a powerful Haiti, Porta Prince, Voodoo Priestess back home in Baton Rouge and he had the Power. The Power with a capital P.

Among his powers he said was the ability to see his own death and avoid it. I was somewhat impressed because he had a scar running all the way across the top of his head from the middle of his forehead to the back of his head. One of his women had become jealous of another lover he had and she had buried a 3 foot long machete blade in his skull. It had actually penetrated his skull and center of his brain, and he lived to brag about it. I personally was impressed by his feat.

Before we left camp that morning he told me he felt somebody walk over his grave. I asked him what he meant and he described a shiver that walks up and down your spine that warned you of impending danger ... your death anyway. That morning he stepped on a “Bouncing Betty Pop-Up Mine”. He felt the click, it requires 8 pounds of pressure to trip, and didn’t raise his foot just freezing there. I was an hour disarming it and he lost a good combat boot in the process, but of course that was much better than loosing the foot that was in the boot. He claimed the shiver was a forewarning that saved his life that day. For some reason I found myself feeling forewarned of coming doom too.

I know now that going to my local bar where I was a regular to have a drink, a drink I didn’t see pored in front of me, was not the smartest thing I ever did in my life. You know the one about hindsight is always 20/20. My first drink must have been doctored because I suddenly found myself sitting in a isolated booth with the two detectives trying to answer their questions, but being unable to. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to answer them, trust me I did. I just couldn’t answer any of their questions.

Whatever “truth serum” they used on me made me want to blab everything I knew to them. Hell I literally had diarrhea of the mouth, but all that came out of my mouth was unintelligible babble. They were actually impressed that I could beat Doc’s, whoever Doc was, “truth serum”, but since I could that made me a danger. Though somebody named Doc on the other end of the telephone conversation they were having wanted them to bring me in for questioning the others voted to terminate me here and now. In the end they finally lost patience with me and I was out like a light for the second time that night.

When I regained consciousness I could hear everything going on around me, but I couldn’t move anything, not even a finger, not even to blink my eyes. Well I could control my breathing I found to my amazement. From the rocking and sounds surrounding me I could tell I was in a boat and I recognized the two voices I was hearing. They were the voices of the two detectives that had visited me the other day and questioned me last night. According to what Sam, the shorter detective, was saying they didn’t know who I was working for, but this was going to clean up the loose ends they had. People I was working for? What loose ends?

According to Sam I was going to get drunk and accidentally fall out of the boat I rented and drown out here in the ocean. Sam assured the other moron, Ray something or other, that the GPS said the Boston Whaler was at least six miles out and in my condition I’d drown out here in the ocean. Just another accidental death when I was found, if I was even found.

Doc, whoever Doc was, had assured them that the chloral hydrate and babble juice they had given me, and the paralytic he had shot me up with would never be detected with the amount of alcohol I had consumed in my system. My rental boat would be found floating loose after they got back to the dock and turned it loose. It would be assumed I fell out of it when it was found. When my body washed up, if it washed up at all latter, would be ruled “Death By Misadventure”.

Minutes latter they did toss me out of the boat. I was only glad they didn’t wait around to see me go under. The shock of the water, it was August after all, was cool but anything but freezing cold. Of course there was a joke that the first thing you bought on getting to San Diego and going to Mission Beach was your surfboard and the second thing you bought was the wet suit to use it. The water is cold and that’s why the Great White Sharks avoid the Pacific Ocean.

You would think that the Navy would teach sailors how to swim, but they don’t. On the other hand the Marines require all Marines to swim. We go through what is affectionately called “Drown Proofing”. Drown Proofing is exactly that, survival in the water.

I was one of twelve in my group of three hundred Marines that was a natural born floater. I can literally stand upright in the ocean and breath through my nose without moving a muscle. This later became a skill set the Marines exploited to do dirty jobs in the even dirtier water of the Delta I’d rather not remember. Searching the hulls of boats in the harbor for contraband and explosive devices is not fun in the water, or a nice day at the beach. It’s a dirty job but somebody has to do it I was told.

I have to admit though that the week at the pool in Boot Camp was a fine revenge on some of my fellow Marines at the time. Me, and my small group of fellow floaters, got to watch our fellow Marines drown over and over all week. We were heads bobbing around in the middle of the pool watching them drown again and again. Of course we also learned a drowning man will try to latch onto anything floating around him, in this case that meant us. It’s scary to see the look in a drowning man’s eyes when he looks over and sees you floating there and tries to grab onto you as you quickly submerge and disappear from his sight. His last hope gone is a real turn on to some I found out.

Oh! We also found out that week that not only are there floaters there is also the group of, lets call them, extreme sinkers too. People with bones so dense they can actually sit on the bottom of the pool. They don’t hang there they sink like a proverbial rock. Natural born drownders we all called them in the end.

By this time the paralytic was wearing off and I was in complete control of my own body again. As I floated there with my nose just out of the water waiting patently for the paralytic to wear off completely I had a lot of time to think about what had lead up to this moment. Finally it wore off completely and I was ready to go home. Taking a fix on the North Star I set off for shore and home moving steadily in that one direction. I had lots of time to get there, all the time in the world in fact.

The “Travel Stroke” that the Marines teach can keep you moving in a straight line forever. The Marines don’t teach swimming so much as a survival skill, believe it or not there is a big difference. Survival is reaching your goal while conserving you energy. Being able to swim was found to be too complicated, actually very exhausting, and entirely unnecessary to survive.

The “Travel Stroke” on the other hand can keep you moving for days on end. It becomes something that the body becomes programed to keep doing. Asleep or awake, conscious or unconscious the body keeps doing it automatically until all it’s resources are completely exhausted and it literally burns itself out. There are tales of endurance, but I’m not sure there are any records set. Six miles was easy.

Reaching shore was the easy part I realized early on. What to do once I reached shore was a whole lot harder to figure out. In the end I decided that staying dead to the rest of the world was advisable for awhile. Maybe it was time for Edward J. Simmons to just die. Maybe I was ready to die? Maybe I was just ready for a vacation. We would see.

As fate would have it I reached shore. The two detectives hadn’t bothered to even take my wallet so I had soggy money and cards to phone home from the working pay phone booth near the 7/11 I finally found. Uremia picked up on the first ring.

“This is Uremia leave your message.” Greeted me on the phone.

“Uremia this is Eddie...” Uremia picked up immediately.

“Where are you Master?” She answered back.

“I’m at the 7/11 down here on Seacoast Drive and Imperial Beach Boulevard at Imperial Beach Waterfront. This is the number of the booth I’m at 619-232-4567. Grab a car and come pick me up. I’ll wait for you out front. Don’t go in just drive through the pumps and blow your horn a couple of times and wait. I’ll stay around the booth somewhere” I gave her directions to where I would be waiting.

“I’ll be there as soon as possible Master, but you know that’s a long long way down the coast. Your almost to Mexico Master. Why are you all the way down there...” She demanded of me. She was the only one that still insisted on calling me Master all the time. I finally cut her off.

“It wasn’t voluntary Uremia and I’ll tell you all about it when you get down here. Now just come and get me please.” And I hung up the phone.

I would figure out how to get my car back latter. Hell, maybe they could just have it. It really wasn’t worth picking up. A&B could make me a new identity too I guessed.

The human brain is still, despite all the abilities of modern silicon based super computers, the most powerful processor in the known universe right now. The quantum computers they’re experimenting with now come close to our organic brain’s abilities, but they are still mostly theoretical pipe dreams for the most part. The human brain on the other hand has been fine tuned by millions of years of natural evolution, and its capabilities are still mostly untapped due mostly to moral and ethical considerations that society imposes on experimentation with the human brain.

Uremia at the moment was trying to ignore all of those taboos for the most part to create her own Personal Artificial Intelligence. Of course the term Artificial Intelligence has many interpretations I found. Uremia wanted to hook herself up to the computer and become ... well not the CPU, the central processing unit ... no, our Uremia wanted to become the OS, the operating system. Uremia wanted to be the software that ran the computer or CPU.

The true processing power of the human mind lies not in the number of calculations per second, after all the human brain is mostly chemically driven, it will never keep up with the sheer speed of an electrically driven device like a modern silicone based computer. The advantage of the human brain is the parallel processing abilities inherent in it. A computer can only do a single task at once, sure it can do that one task incredibly fast but still only a single operation at once.

The human brain on the other hand juggles and processes hundreds of individual factors at once sometimes thousands of factors at once. Uremia’s plan was trying to interface her mind to a cloned duplicate copy of her own mind that was itself directly connected to a bank of electrically driven computers.

Uremia’s cloned mind/machine would intentionally lack the cerebellum, but would have everything else. The inherent fear of mankind against these kinds of things goes back to the Bible I guess where they created the Golem. Then came Mary Shelley’s book Frankenstine and the whole genus of monsters after that. There has always been that fear in the human physique that a bodiless brain created by a man would go insane and run amuck.

Uremia’s working theory was that without the cerebellum there was no consciousness only a chemical based machine to be used like any other machine. She was depending on Liz’s surgical skills to implant the probes in her brain that would allow her to directly interface with the hybrid chem/elec computer she was creating.

“And where will you get a cloned mind without a cerebellum Uremia?” Alice asked Uremia.

“Well technically I lied about the cloning part. I have ... well I had, an identical twin sister. We were very close when we were growing up, when we were 16 we went skiing at Aspen, Colorado. She suffered an accident on the slops and wound up brain dead in a coma. She’s in what is termed a “long term vegetative state”, a vegetable for all intents and purposes now. I voted to pull life support and let her die a natural death at the time of the accident rather than leave her in that ... that limbo ... that purgatory of being neither alive nor dead that I sensed my twin sister was in. My mother and father wouldn’t hear of it though.

Last year my mother died, and my father wants to get remarried now, so now he wants to pull the plug on poor Suzy. He would have already done it, but it requires my signature too because of the terms of Mom’s Will. I only got the ideal for my Artificial Intelligence last year. Now with the Twins help I have the money and the necessary skill sets available to make it all happen.” Uremia told us.