Chapter 34: In For A Penny, In For A Pound

My remark, "I'd go with you anywhere," was made using poor judgment I learned quickly.

It resulted in my being roughly pushed against the wall. My head struck the wall and I saw stars passing before me. I heard the unfamiliar click of the handcuffs a moment before I saw them. I felt the pounding of my heart as the blood raced through my veins. Carlette's hand reached out and touched her partner's arm. He paused a moment before locking it around my wrist. I saw the slight motion of her head and he withdrew the handcuffs.

"We don't need any smart answers, let's set the record straight," the male agent remarked.

He held me by the arm as we walked down the steps. I thought of the many instances I saw the same thing in movies and on television. I had the opinion it was to keep the individual from running, but in my case, it was to keep me from falling. My legs felt limber as rubber and I had difficulty walking. I thought I had been frightened before. Previous incidents of fright were nothing compared to the way I felt at that moment. I was scared shitless. I glanced at the condo briefly, actually thinking it would be my last time to see it

Carlette drove and several times I caught her eyes on me through the rear-view mirror. No one was talking and the eerie silence caused my heart to pump faster, forcing the blood through my body at an accelerated rate. She turned into a small office complex and drove around the building to the back. We went inside, her partner clinging to my arm. There were six men in the larger room and two appeared to rush me.

"Mr. Stewart, I'm agent Sanders and this is Agent Dawson. We would like to ask you some questions," the agent said calmly.

"Am I under arrest... for drugs?" I asked.

"No, we have questions concerning your associates," he replied.

They offered me a drink, took me into a smaller room, and I felt my body tense when I heard the door close. The large conference table took up more than half the room. Another agent came into the room and sat at the table corner, bumping knees when he sat. He began laying pictures before me, stacking one on the other.

They didn't ask many questions. The problem, they kept asking the same questions over and over and over. They asked me the same questions five or six times, and truthfully, I didn't know the answers to any. It didn't matter to them, they continued asking. They were asking about drugs: shipments, origination, mode, arrival points, distribution points, and lastly, who was in charge locally. The questions were redundant and after two hours I had a feeling they believed me.

The agent flipping the pictures continued turning the photos as Agents Sanders and Dawson kept asking questions. Carlette came into the room and the questions ceased. She spoke to Agent Sanders in a hushed tone and he left the room with Dawson.

"How many of those men did you recognize?" Carlette asked pointing to the pictures.

I realized I had relaxed somewhat when she sat. I noticed her dress for the first time. She definitely appeared a different person. He light brown slacks and blazer was very different from the sexy dress she wore our first meeting. Missing also was the fragrance she wore with the dress.

"I know five by name and four others by sight," I remarked.

The agent looked at her and nodded. He began going through the photos, picking out the ones I recognized, almost as if he read my mind. I thought I had been casual and nonchalant as he turned the pictures in front of me. Frank and dad were in the pictures, as were Archer and Eli Harper. Brad Tomlinson was the fifth person I knew by name. I must have turned pale when the agent pulled the nine photos I spoke of and passed them across the table to Carlette.

"Are these the correct photos?" Carlette asked.

"Yes, but how did you know?" I asked looking at the non-smiling agent.

"You were easy to read, your body language and expression," he remarked.

Carlette placed four pictures on the table, four I didn't know by name.

"We want your help. Three of these men have a major role, let's say control, of the major supply line of drugs entering the country. The fourth is the one you will be taking orders from soon, he controls the sex trade. He gives the order when a 'special' girl is needed for a wealthy client," Carlette said staring at me hard.

"How did you..." I stared to ask how she knew what I was going to do but stopped speaking when the recording began.

Unaware Agent Dawson reentered the room, I jumped when he played a recording. The recording was Eli Harper and I talking the evening before. She placed Eli's photo in front of me as he spoke. When he said I had an important job Monday evening, she laid Brad Tomlinson's photo on top of Eli's.

"You can't do that!" I exclaimed, "that's illegal."

"I can, and I did. I have a court order for that residence. I have your conversation with your father also, do you want to hear it?" Carlette asked.

"No, I know what we said to one another."

"Harold, we know you are not involved... yet. That conversation is the beginning because Monday you will become an active player. We want you to work for us," Carlette stated.

I stared at her a few seconds before I began shaking my head slowly.

"I hoped you would agree, but you leave me no choice," she said nodding to the agent with the photographs.

He searched through a folder and laid a photograph in front of me. It was a photo of a young girl, and me. It was the same girl as was on the tape sent to me. I looked up at Carlette and she nodded to the agent again. He laid another photo in front of me. It was a photo of the second preteen and me.

"Those are unknown to the justice department. I have a friend and he would be very interested in them. Of that, I'm certain. For you, I'm inclined to bet you would receive jail time. To be perfectly frank, I'd stake my reputation on it."

I knew I had nowhere to go but down. My question to myself, where did she get the photos, and how many more were spread around.

"I know for a fact he'd be willing to do me many, many, special favors. We're giving you the same opportunity... we'd like some favors from you."

Carlette stared at me hard, and I knew she was right in her assumption. Those photos were certain jail time for me.

"What happens to me if I do these favors for you and you no longer need me? You give the photos to your friend and I'm up shit creek," I remarked.

"You help us and I promise you these photos will be lost. This team is tight and I can vouch for each one of them, the photos never existed," she said looking at the agent beside me.

They were both nodding, but I didn't believe them.

"What choices do I have?" I asked.

"Work with us is the only reasonable choice, because the alternative is to spend a few years in jail. You may get a lenient judge and he could give you as little as ten years, but you'd be a registered sex offender for life. I understand they live a hard life," Carlette said solemnly.

"What would I have to do?" I asked after a long, silent, soul-searching period.

"How could I be so stupid?" I'd asked myself that question a hundred times after Carlette had me driven home. I agreed to keep them informed as to my work and location, plus they wanted to know everyone with whom I came in contact. I let the hot water drive into my flesh and I felt as though I was still dirty. I never informed on a person in my life, not even Sue when I got in trouble for something she did. Although I was aware I would be dealing with scum, it didn't seem right. An honorable person wouldn't do such a thing, but then I wasn't an honorable person. In Carlette's own words, "I was a deviate working among a swarm of deviates."

I was confused by the fact they never asked me, nor did I ask them, about the pictures of dad and Frank. They only seemed interested in the four men, none of which I remembered a name. They had the photos and I realized I should have asked for names. There were many questions I should have asked, but at the time, I was worried about being locked up. The more I thought of the situation I realized it was a probability. They knew what my situation was going to be and yet they spoke as though it was your average job, no better, no worse.

Carlette had definitely upset me. I tried to play it casual, once I got over the initial fear of arrest. I failed miserably. I felt it was almost as though I gave up, but that was hindsight. I couldn't remember what I had on my mind other than the fear of arrest. Verbal promises meant nothing and I fell into their ploy. I dug myself into a hole and was definitely miserable.

I didn't feel I would be good company and I promised Ida company for dinner. I couldn't talk about my day and she had questions galore. She started asking of my whereabouts as soon as she learned of my return.

I took a beer from the fridge and crashed on the sofa. I reached for the TV remote and then returned it to the table. I needed to think and I wanted it quiet. I tried to get the day cleared from my mind, but then I began thinking what lie ahead.

Carlette had solved a problem by finding me a charter the following day. I struck out, as I couldn't find a pilot. There were several planes for rent but a scarcity of pilots. I would have preferred an earlier flight but I was grateful for her assistance. She said she called in a favor when she found a friend at home. I realized she only helped because it was a benefit to her.

I wondered what Monday would bring. Eli was adamant about me arriving in time to set up. I didn't have a clue of what or whom I was going to capture on film, but I was bright enough to know it wouldn't be consensual. That brought to mind the pictures Carlette dropped on the table earlier that morning. I hadn't given it thought but everyone wasn't willing to be photographed.

I gave it a token thought when I was told what was expected of me. Sitting in the silent room without pressure, I realized it wasn't going to be a simple matter to get someone to pose in a porn film. I had no trouble asking a stranger to pose for a picture when I came across a wonderful background, but porn was different. Depending on the demands placed on me, it could be I wouldn't have time to find willing subjects. What would I do in that circumstance? I realized it could be a major problem. I knew I had a supply of pills to soften some. I wondered, regarding the repercussions days later, when the individual realized he/she was drugged when photographed? I hadn't thought of that. They could go to the police, although some wouldn't be taken seriously, others would. I would be in the spotlight, and if you were in the light long, someone was bound to see you. I could foresee a problem. I mulled it over in my mind, unable to find a remedy. I made an unscheduled trip into dreamland because the phone woke me.

"Did you forget I was treating?" Ida asked cheerfully when I answered.

"I'm sorry, I drifted off to sleep. The phone woke me," I remarked apologetically.

"I did the same thing," she said chuckling softly. "The door is open when you're ready; I've got to make some minor repairs so let yourself in."

"Same here, I'll be over shortly," I commented.

I washed my face and brushed my teeth, removing the beer breath. I walked to her condo, knocked, and walked in. She was on the phone and by her expression, I knew she wasn't thrilled with the call. I walked to the sofa and parked.