Chapter 6

A shiny bald head poked through the open door, its nose hawklike between two pure blue eyes.

"Boss, ya gotta minute?"

"Not just now, Carl, goddamn it! I've got too much to do this afternoon," Wade Jackson's polished voice answered.

Carl didn't want to wait. "It's important!"

Wade Jackson sat at his desk, small stacks of papers and accountant sheets spread before him. Even though he had a small army of accountants, he always took pains to check their work over every week. "No one cheats Wade Jackson," he had once said, and so far during the last twenty years, no one had even tried.

"Christ!" he said, pausing for a moment. "Come on in."

Never one fucking minute to myself, he thought, trying to feel sorry for his executive image, an image he lived up to.

"Alright, what is it?"

Carl Pearson entered the room dressed like a typical East Coast company vice-president. His expensive three button suit fit perfectly, accented by a matching vest and blue button-down collar shirt with a carefully selected tie. He dressed his part well, always appearing to be a businessman, which he was during the day, but his nights were spent in search of new and exciting perversion, fed by an ever-growing number of young prostitutes owned by the syndicate.

"It's bad news," he said with a scowl. "We're getting trouble on two fronts."

That's all I need, Wade thought, something else to throw a goddamned wrench into the works.

"Well, Goddamn it!" he practically yelled. "What is it this time?"

"Your friend Paula," he paused waiting to see if Wade would recognize the name. "Yeah, that's the one. She turned down a trick last night after Red called her. She said that she already had one lined up, but Red told her to come anyway."

"That's not so bad. What gives?"

"Sammy Wynn is what gives, or gets, depending on how you look at it. Paula's watchdog, George, said that Sammy and Paula got pretty thick when he came to make the collection last night, and finally left together after she had talked to Red."

"Shit," Wade whispered. "What else?"

"This is the bad one," he said taking a deep breath of reassurance. "That editor, Lee. We got a tape of him and Carmen last night. They got real chummy at the house, and she took him to her place, making her think he was a regular john.

"I suppose I could say Carmen didn't know better, but when they got to talking he convinced her to spill the beans about our organization. They had one helluva wild screwing, four times in as many hours. But afterwards she told him everything."

Wade sat silent for a moment, his hands covering his eyes. Then suddenly he slammed his fist onto the table. "That son of a bitch," he yelled. "We should have eliminated him months ago. Now he knows too much; probably wrote everything down last night."

Wade paced the floor while Carl stood patiently, waiting for orders.

"Send Red in here," he said finally. "I think we can fix everybody up with the right medicine."

Half a minute later Red came through the door, his bulk nearly filling the entire entranceway. At six-foot-six-inches he weighed two hundred and sixty-five pounds without an ounce of fat on him, except between the ears. His physical prowess and cruelty were his only assets, but good enough assets for Wade to have kept him for ten years, running hundreds of dirty errands and using his muscle wherever needed.

"Ya want me, Boss," he asked, a sheepish grin on his face.

"Of course, I do. Why do you think I called you?"

"I'm sorry, Boss," he whimpered. "I didn't think."

"You're not paid to think, right," Wade said, pausing for the big man to nod. "We've got a job to do, so I want you to listen carefully."

Wade stopped while Red settled himself in a large leather chair. If he were going to remember everything, he would have to be comfortable with nothing to distract his attention.

"You remember calling Paula last night?" he asked rhetorically. "Well, she didn't show for the trick. Do you remember what we did to her the last time she tried that?"

Red nodded again, pleased with himself that he understood everything that Wade had said. He remembered, and hoped that he could do the same to her that he had a few months ago.

"O.K., now listen: I don't want you to do the same thing with her this time. I want you to feed Jocko well today. Do you know why?"

Red knew Jocko but he couldn't see the connection between feeding the giant St. Bernard and punishing the girl.

"You're going to take Jocko and Carl over to Paula's this afternoon and do some training. Get the picture?"

Red still wasn't sure, but a wide grin spread across Carl's face. He knew exactly what Wade had in mind.

"I'm putting you in charge, Red, so that you can teach the girl how to screw with the dog."

Immediately Red's face flushed with pleasure. He remembered that the dog had been trained before to perform sexual intercourse with another girl while a group of high paying customers watched. Red had enjoyed the training before the show, because he had taken turns with Jocko, each of them screwing the girl until she had finally collapsed from exhaustion and humiliation.