Chapter 4

"I hope we don't stay long. We've got a lot to get done before we pick up the girls from school. So lets not dally," Dora said as they approached the Thomas' home.

Right," he pulled up to the curb. They got out and ran up the stairs to the porch. Dora had the morning paper over her head to keep her hair dry. Ted rang the doorbell. This time it was the FBI agent who answered the door.

"Say Ted, wazzup?" the black man smiled.

"Say Francis, any news?" he entered the house. "By the way, I'd like to introduce you to the love of my life. Francis this is Dora, Dora meet Francis."

"Nice to meet you," they chorused to each other. "Nothing's happening," Francis told Ted.

"Shit... oops, sorry dear," Ted apologized to his wife. She just nodded. "Uh... where's the Thomases?"

"They left about a half hour ago. Mrs. Thomas is so freaked out that the old man is thinking of putting her into the hospital."

"Too bad!" Ted shook his head. Dora kept quiet to let the pros do their work.

Gladys and Stan held the half sleeping girl as Jim knocked on the door at what was their supposed destination. It took less than a minute but seemed like an hour for the man to answer. The snow was heavy and swirling in the cold wind.

"Yes?" a middle-aged man with a remarkable resemblance to the actor Harrison Ford answered.

"We've got your present for you from a friend." Jim said.

"Friend?" the man looked puzzled.

"Can we come in?" Gladys' teeth were chattering.

"Oh sorry," the man said, stepping aside to allow the four people to enter. He closed the door behind them as they all dragged in Cynthia,

"Uhhhh... this present is what?" The man was genuinely confused.

"Do you know a Richard Myers?" Jim asked.

"No," he shook his head, staring at the half sagging blonde being held up by the other girl and a man. "Is she all right?"

"She had one too many," Walcott explained. "How about Sir Reginald Moore, He's that billionaire living in London. Have you heard of him?"

"Reggie a billionaire?" the man grinned widely. "I haven't seen him since Desert Storm. How did he get all that money? Did he scam that Saddam Hussien out of it?"

"We don't know how Mr. Moore made his fortune," Jim explained. "I was told you saved his life in Iraq."

"He was shot in the upper right thigh, I only tied a tourniquet above the wound to keep him from bleeding to death. Then I helped him to a field ambulance, got him settled, and they took him away. We were friends in the war zone. I wrote him about six months ago but I never heard back."

"Well, Mr. Myers told me he bought you a present. Her name is Cynthia and she's all yours now!"

"I don't think so. Buying and selling people is not only immoral but it's against the law."

Gladys blurted out in a brief laugh then fought it back as Jim stared angrily at her. She dropped her eyes to the floor while Cynthia became heavier to hold as the demerol she was given made her unaware what was going on around her. She heard words but she was unable to make anything out.

"Never mind that shit," Jim sneered, changing gears from being friendly to outright anger. "If you don't take her, we'll just drop her in the snow and it will be on your conscience, not mine."

"I don't want her," he protested as Gladys managed to lay her on a plush sofa that looked like a turn of the last century's model. She took the blanket that they used when Cynthia was grabbed and she gently covered her.

"Tough!" Jim growled. "She's yours now! You can keep her or throw her out. I don't give a shit." With that, Walcott walked out with the other two but not before Gladys kissed Cynthia lovingly on the lips. She ran out slamming the door behind her leaving the man stunned with his mouth wide open.

"Let's get the fuck out of here," Jim snapped. "Stan, sit in the back. Let Gladys sit by me."

"So you can fuck her?" one of the men called to him. Quick as a cat, Jim had his firearm to the man's forehead. He pulled the trigger and sent his brains all over. Gladys screamed in shock, feeling the hot blood and bone on her back. The others shrank back. "Anyone else want to try my patience?" he sneered. After a moment, he seemed to calm down. "Throw his ass out of here," he instructed. The side door was opened and the body dumped unceremoniously into the cold with the snow falling heavier than ever. The gales from the wind shook the van like a toy as everyone tried to get comfortable. Without being asked, Gladys took a towel stolen from the lodge they stayed in after crossing into this country and wiped the windshield as clean as she could get it.

"Thanks babe," Jim grinned but didn't see a smile in return. He sensed her fear of him at that moment. He reached over, patted her upper thigh before putting the car into gear and leaving. He had to make a guess to where the road was in the whiteout conditions.

His name was Ed Lowe and he was forty-two. He had a handsome face with raven hair starting to show gray on the sides. He stood about six foot tall and was very thin. Having to do everything for himself from dawn until he went to bed, Ed believed he was content with his life. Now strangers had thrust this young girl upon him. He sat in his old but comfortable chair staring at the beautiful blond. She was stirring under the blanket as the demerol began to wear off. Her eyelids fluttered but didn't look as if she was going to wake up anytime soon.