Chapter 2

Donna

It was done.

Donna had wanted to believe it wouldn’t affect her, that righteous anger would carry her through, but by the end, the smell of burnt flesh and Shelley’s muffled screams were most of her reality.

The other part of her reality was burning one letter at a time, not remembering the last letter, unsure of the next one. Donna would finish a letter, then pull back, and look at Shelley’s ruined face, realize what the next letter must be, and then begin again.

Until at last there were no more letters to be done.

Turning off the electrocauter, it seemed to her ‘Judas Whore’ had been spelled with a thousand letters, had taken a hundred years to complete.

She wiped Shelley’s face clear of tears and mucus for the last time, unfastened one side of the leather muzzle, and pulled the panties out, before refastening the muzzle.

Donna wanted to be hardass about it, giving Shelley a last sarcastic quip, or evocative threat, before leaving her ... but Donna didn’t have it in her.

“Rest now, whore.”

It was only then she smelled the urine and feces Shelley had spread over the bed.

Shaking her head, Donna walked out of the cabin.

To be greeted by her family.

She didn’t feel the tears start, she didn’t notice the sobs wracking her body, she just let them lead her, limping from the pain in her heel, to the master suite.

“I wish I could give you a sedative, Milady,” Constance said, finishing the wrapping of Donna’s ankle and heel.

“Thank you, dear,” Donna replied, cried-out for the moment, “but I’m pretty sure exhaustion and a pipe of Indica will take care of me nicely.”

Constance went to the bathroom and started a shower.

“Love,” Jason said, caressing Donna’s hair, “a final bit of business. I got a note from Susan.”

“My apologies to you all,
“Susan”

The cabin was quiet for a moment, the only sounds the laboring throb of the yacht’s engines, and the shower in the bathroom.

“Not a bad idea,” Donna said. “You two good with us giving her that choice?”

“Yeah,” Jason said.

“Sounds good, darling,” Abby replied.

“Fine, that’s what we’ll do. Estrellita, go tell Dr. Lowenstein we’ll be implementing her suggestion, and thank her for the idea. Lizzy, you filthy little slut, load up a pipe for me. What time is it anyway?”

“5:30 AM, local time,” Jason answered. “Sometime in the year 2137, subjective time. Goddamn I’m tired...”

Susan

She sat in the darkness of her cabin, eyes closed, so far from sleep Susan didn’t see it happening before the day passed, and another night rolled around.

The Grimes might ask her for a recommendation for someone to help the kids ... no. Not ‘the kids’ ... that was the biggest part of the problem. They weren’t ‘kids’. ‘Emotionally immature teenagers’ ... yes. That was an accurate assessment of their emotional development. They were not ‘kids’, they were not ‘children’. They were...

A soft knock on her cabin door.

“Doctor?”

“Come in,” she called.

The door opened, and Estrellita stuck her head in.

“They’re going with your suggestion, Doctor. Donna said to tell you ‘thank you’.”

A tightness in her chest eased, a tightness she hadn’t known was there.

“Thank you, ‘Llita. Give them my thanks.”

“Certainly, Doctor.”

The door closed, the cabin returned to darkness.

They were ... carrying adult responsibilities and doing the best they could, showing restraint when possible, but realizing sometimes that wasn’t possible ... not in the realpolitik of their lives. And anyone she recommended had to be able to not react as ‘the adult in charge’, no matter what happened.

They weren’t kids ... they were young adults, out of their depth – and well aware of it – who were struggling to figure it out as they went along ... and given the circumstances, not doing a bad job of it.

And she had failed them.

“Enough of this,” she muttered, turning on the bedside lamp.

Getting up, she threw on a robe over her nightshirt, and wandered out into the salon.

To find Otter behind the bar, rooting around in the cabinets.

“Uh, you okay?”

Otter stood up, and Susan realized the new major domo did put on clothes occasionally ... ratty cargo shorts and an Ozzy Osbourne t-shirt.

“Yeah,” Otter replied, “just exploring the bar. Pretty sure someone else in the service part of the crew’s gonna get assigned to be the bartender, but in the meantime I need a damn drink, and wondered what they had back here.”

“Anything good?”

“Oh, you have no idea...” Otter bent back down and brought up a bottle – black, with an ornate stopper, and spiky ridges down the sides. “This, my dear doctor, is brandy.”

“I like a nice snifter of brandy from time to time.”

“How about now, Doctor?” Otter put the bottle down, and grabbed two brandy snifters.

“So, what brandy am I about to enjoy?”

“Ooooh, Remy Martin Black Pearl Louis XIII, Doctor ... last time I saw a bottle of this available, it went for over $165,000. Only 786 decanters of this were produced.”

“And this yacht has one? Wow.”

“No, Doctor, this yacht has five. So, over half a million in brandy, sitting in a bar cabinet.”

“How do you know so much about expensive brandies, Otter?”

“Worked in some very fancy bars over the years, and served some people with extremely expensive tastes. There’s a tequila down here I want to try eventually ... Alvarez Especiale Platinum. That’s not just a reflection of how special the tequila is ... the bottle is wrapped in diamond-studded platinum bands.”

“Fancy,” Susan said, watching Otter pour healthy amounts of the Remy Martin into the snifters. “What are we drinking to?”

Otter finished pouring, put the stopper back in the bottle, and put the bottle away. She stood, picked up her snifter, and said, “How about to our failures this night?”

Susan grimaced.

“I know how I failed, Otter ... you?”

“Didn’t do a goddamn thing. Froze. Now, maybe I would’ve come out of that freeze and done something real helpful, but Jason, Conseula, Donna ... they all beat me to it.”

“Don’t beat yourself up ... Conseula’s a professional, and Donna ... she’s just scary-good.”

“And just plain scary, right, Doctor?”

Susan thought to when Donna was asking her what right she had to demand answers, and the fury in the young woman’s eyes.

“Yeah ... very scary. Call me Susan, if we’re going to drink our troubles away...”

“Well, Doctor, if you want to try, this boat definitely has enough booze aboard.”

Harry

“What’s going on?” he mumbled, coming upright in his seat as Camille fastened his seatbelt.

“Landing at LAX for refueling, Master,” Camille replied, finishing, then looking out the window. “How’d you sleep?”

“Pretty well, but not long enough,” he replied. “We’re not there yet ... any further word on where ‘there’ is going to be?”

“Yep,” Gloria answered. “Hawaii, though Margo wouldn’t get more specific than that, Sir.”

“Shit,” Harry mumbled. “We got a lot more flying to do ... once we’re on the ground in LA, I need to get up, stretch my legs a bit.”

“You and me both,” Margo said from the seats in front of him.

“So, Madam-wife,” Harry said, “once we’re in Hawaii ... how long before we get wherever we’re going?”

“Probably about an hour, Master-husband,” she replied. “And then ... we do whatever for a while, work though jet lag and being cooped up in a jet for so long. I plan on sex, food, and sleeping ... not necessarily in that order.

“Maybe even a swim...”

“So, we’re going somewhere with access to a pool...” Harry said.

“Or a beach,” Camille added.

“Yes,” Margo replied, “and no one will give a shit if we wear a suit or not. I personally plan not to ... once the sun’s no longer in the sky, or I’m in the shade, having suntan lotion applied by subbies.”

“This honeymoon is sounding better and better,” Harry said.

Once the pilot said they could get up and move around, Harry slowly made his way up and down the aisle a few times as he waited for a shot at one of the toilets. The sedation had left him very tired, even sleeping through the trip so far. Carol already had a big glass of juice with his name on it, ready once they were back in the air, and then ... Harry was going back to sleep.

Hopefully.

“How’s the leg, Sir?” Camille asked.

“Stiff, but that’s to be expected.” He spoke a little louder, “Anyone got an idea how long we’ll be on the ground here?”

“Another thirty minutes or so,” one of the flight attendants replied. “Is there anything I can get for you?”

“Got any fruit on board?”

“Yes sir, Madam Grimes made sure of that...”

“A banana, no, two bananas, and a pear, if possible, thank you.”

“Certainly, sir.”

He went back to stretching his legs, up and down the aisle.

As he settled in from his trip to the restroom, the flight attendant delivered his fruit with a smile.

“Thank you.”

He watched the young woman, of Korean ancestry if he had to guess, walk away, he softly made appreciative sounds.

“Master, don’t you have enough beautiful women in your life?” Camille asked.

“Oh, I am blessed with an overabundance of beautiful women and have no desire to add more to my life,” Harry said, “but the day I stop admiring the view ... well, you can bury me.”

Camille laughed.

“Oh, your eyes would pop out on the beaches of Rio,” she said, wistfully.

“Guess that answers the question of if you ever get homesick...”

“Home ... not so much. Missing the parts of Rio I love ... yeah.”

“Sad thing when home isn’t someplace you miss...”

“Well, now I’m home all the time, Sir, wherever I go with you.”

“Have I apologized sufficiently for leaving all of you behind when we went to Chicago?”

“More than sufficiently, Sir ... it’s hard for people who aren’t like Gloria, Esther, and me to understand what it’s like being us. And Milady Carol doesn’t need to apologize anymore either.”

“Well, now we’re all very aware of how things need to work ... although ... I’m not complaining,” he said, peeling a banana, “but now I have four of you to be mindful of, and my spouses have only one assistant apiece to worry over.”

“Oh, that’s going to...”

“Going to what?”

“Uh, sir, please forget I said anything.”

“Sorry, sweetie, not gonna happen. Spill it...”

“Uh...” she lowered her voice, “Madam Grimes, Milady Carol, and Kelly are getting surprise expansions to their staffs.”

“When?”

“Whenever we get where we’re going, sir. If you’re to act appropriately surprised, I shouldn’t tell you anymore.”

“Let me guess, they’re in the other jet with the baggage and the rest of the security team.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And who’s idea ... wait, never mind. Don’t want to know.”

“Probably won’t be hard to figure out who’s idea it was after you see who the new staff members are, sir.”

Donna

Even after the love and comfort from her family ... Donna lay awake, staring at the bullet hole in the ceiling. Even in the dim light of the master suite, it was very visible.

She knew either Parker or Tod would be contacting her father, probably waiting until later in the morning. From there, her father would spread the word to the Grimes and Beebee.

Meanwhile, there was a bullet hole in the ceiling.

Two million dollars ... Shelley had been right. It was only a matter of time. After the night’s events, she expected it would go higher ... and worse yet, Donna wouldn’t be surprised if the “wanted alive” part of the bounty changed.

Were any of Beebee’s people all that trustworthy if the bounty rose to, oh, say five million, and all that was required for the payout was Jason’s, Abby’s, and her severed heads?

If Shelley had been right about the remaining Nelsons’ intentions, would her father, or the Grimes, or Beebee, be safe much longer?

A bullet hole in the ceiling...

Luck ... she hated to rely on luck, but more and more it felt to Donna like her and her family’s fate wasn’t in their own hands, or the hands of a benevolent god, but was rather in the hands of luck.

And luck was usually regarded as a finite resource.

She opened her eyes again to see the quality of light had changed in the suite.

The stiffness in her body told her she’d been asleep and hadn’t moved much, if at all.

Bullet hole was still there.

It was light enough for her to see most of the cabin clearly.

Ashley asleep to one side of the door, Drag sitting on the other side.

Donna raised a hand and waved. He gave a slight wave and bob of his head in return.

Nocturnia, Parker, and Tod were curled up just to the left of Ashley. That was an ... interesting ... development. But not unexpected. They’d risked their lives, killed, survived ... someone was getting fucked, and given Nocturnia’s skill as a masseuse and their probable need for such, she was a likely partner.

No sign of Otter ... but that was okay. After the night they’d all had, she wasn’t expecting things to operate normally the following day. They all deserved a break.

With a last glance at the ceiling, Donna rolled over and went back to sleep.

` *

She felt whomever she was leaning against get up, and Donna opened her eyes.

Their major domo looked like she’d been rode hard and put up wet – bleary eyes, shorts on backwards, short hair a spiky disaster, and her expression was barely-controlled-nausea.

“Otter,” she whispered, “you look like shit...”

Their disheveled major domo, smelling of alcohol and sex, grimaced in her direction.

“Apologies, Milady. But, no rest for the wicked or weary. Time to get these lazy sluts up and moving.”

“If you say so, Otter. But gently and quietly, okay?”

“Yes, Milady.”

The bullet hole drew her eyes like a magnet, and Donna took a deep breath, closed her eyes once more, and went back to sleep.

Susan

Her eyes opened like rusty hinges.

Something ... off ... she was ... her head was ... wrong end of the bed.

And her mouth ... oh ... she’d drank far too much the night before. A toothbrush was going to be totally inadequate. A wire brush? Hammer and chisel?

Susan had ... had she slept with Otter?

It was evident she’d slept with someone ... fuck that, she’d had wild monkey sex with someone. She vaguely remembered Otter telling her there was no way the new major domo would ever be her patient.

That had apparently been enough...

She needed a shower ... catching another whiff of herself, perhaps more than one.

And if she’d had sex with Otter, where was she?

Susan stretched her arms out, her muscles appreciating the effort, and her right hand felt ... a piece of paper?

Picking it up, she brought it to her eyes, squinting to make out what it said in the dimness of her cabin.

No luck.

She rolled to the edge of the bed, narrowly escaping a tumble off the side, sat up to a dull agony in her head, and turned on the lamp.

Oh Goddess ... that hurt...

“Thank you for a lovely evening. Wish I could be here when you wake, but I’ve got a job to do.”

Susan groaned, turned the lamp off, and lay back on the bed, properly orienting herself, and pulled a sheet over herself. As she adjusted the pillow, a rather sticky strap-on got tangled in her hair.

She threw it off the bed, and prayed she’d be able to go ... back ... to...

Parker

He was in the shower, thoroughly sudsed up, before he realized he was awake.

Not unusual in the least ... especially after the night they’d had. Not enough sleep, and a lovely double-teaming of their masseuse. Parker was betting if Tod was awake, he was balls deep in Sue, one orifice or another. But in reality, probably neither of them was anywhere near being awake.

They’d decided the night before Parker would be the one to call Master Newton.

That was going to be a short call.

He finished his shower, wrapped himself in a towel, and headed for the sat phone in the salon.

“Yes, sir, I will repeat. Vector 9, Alpha-Alpha-Omega, Corvette Summer, Christmas in July.”

“I ... understand. Bells and whistles, Parker,” Thad replied. “Hope to talk to you again soon.”

Parker ended the call, and put the phone back down.

Someone was going to be sent from Hawaii to escort them in. It would be too much to hope whomever that was could perform a more complete repair on the Li Mei’s engines. The Universe didn’t like him that much ... and Parker was coming around to the opinion that the Universe had an active dislike for the kids.

Margo

She was asleep, comfortably so in Nancy Velacourt’s luxurious jet, when someone shook her awake.

“Madam, phone call.”

“Mmmrflugovvy...”

“Coffee, yes, Madam,” the attendant said, handing Margo a phone.

“The kids are fine, Margo,” Thad said.

She opened her mouth to respond, and realized what he had said, and more importantly what he hadn’t said.

“That’s so ... good to know,” she said, struggling to speak coherently.

“They had a bit of trouble, but things are fine.”

“Uh huh...”

“Yeah. I’ll have an update for you tomorrow, once you’ve had time to rest.”

“Thank you, Thad. I appreciate the call.”

When the attendant returned with her coffee, Margo asked, “How soon until we land?”

“We’re on schedule to land right around 10 AM Hawaiian Standard Time, a little under two hours from now, Madam. Anything else I can get you?”

Margo resigned herself to not getting anymore sleep before they landed.

“Just keep the coffee coming if you would, please.”

Thad

He was making so many trips back and forth to Clanglang he wondered if he shouldn’t operate from there for the immediate future. It wasn’t a serious thought – he was far too comfortable in Simon Nelson’s former home, and was doing a fair job making it more his place and less Simon’s ... which was probably a good thing.

A call from his son, Paul, had let him know Vida had spoken with a divorce attorney.

Not a surprise, really, and not totally unexpected.

He had dumped a load of shit on her, upended her world ... and then he’d made the mistake of acting as if things would work out without putting in any effort to help that outcome come to pass.

He’d taken her for granted ... one last massive time too many.

Thad knew intellectually Vida agreed with him, and with every step he’d taken in the service of the kids’ safety.

Emotionally ... that was a whole different matter.

On top of that ... if the guys had actually killed the Nelson aunt – as the “Alpha-Alpha-Omega” seemed to indicate – things were going to get even uglier. He expected attempts on his life, Kjirsten’s as well ... Vida and the rest of his family didn’t need to be anywhere near him.

Riding in the back of the car, watching the California morning outside, it occurred to him he was in a ... well, he hesitated to call it a ‘relationship’, but no other word came to mind, with someone whose loyalty ... well, Carol had gotten a good feeling about her, but he wasn’t sure he was as trusting of the ‘hoodoo woman’ as Chorale was. If the Nelson family decided to put a price on his head ... how far would her loyalty go?

Goddamn, he missed Texas and the Karghold.

Nicki

She’d been mistaken.

Nicki had thought the story was over. The Nelsons had been dealt with and everyone was safe.

Oops.

She’d been in her cabin with Sheila when Shelley made her play. In the interest of thoroughness, Nicki should interview the kids about what happened.

And all her journalistic intuition told her that would be a really bad idea. Maybe, maybe once they were in Hawaii ... perhaps. Maybe ... probably not.

In the meantime, she would ask Jason’s permission to interview the others who were there, making it very clear she was not asking to talk with him, Donna, or Abby about what happened. They’d gone through enough for the time being.

She knew who she wanted to start with – Tod. He was probably the most objective observer in the room. Of course, she also wanted to ask him about what happened on the Merry Lady Mary ... and rather doubted he’d be too forthcoming.

Thad

“So, Beebee, that’s what I know...”

“Is there any reason you don’t have better encryption on your phones, Thad?”

“Not really ... truth is, over the years we just got so used to codes and guarded language ... well, if it wasn’t broken, we didn’t think about fixing it.”

“How are you planning to get word to Madam Grimes?”

“Even more old-school bullshit. I’m sending a courier out this afternoon. He’ll be waiting at Hau’oli Mala when they wake up tomorrow.”

“Fine, I’ll have someone in town buy you ... eight new satellite phones, with suspiciously strong encryption on them. One goes to Hawaii this afternoon, one stays here, one goes with you, one will be carried to Chorale South ... and four will be in reserve. Is that acceptable?”