Chapter 31

During this time we had been ignoring the symphony concerts for the most part. There had been other concerts since that first one, but none by composers either of us wanted to hear. The second major concert of interest in the symphony season was at the mid-point. This one had some pieces by one of my favorite composers and I announced that we would be going. I gave them two weeks notice.

Again, as before, the packages from The Guild began arriving in sealed boxes shortly after my announcement. Whether they wanted to go hear the concert or not, they wanted to go just to see what was in the golden boxes.

The day of the concert started early. This time the two women knew what to expect and they fully enjoyed the pampering and primping that was done to them. By the time the last technician was done, they were about as on edge as I had seen them.

I smiled at Sally standing there in her short silk robe. I handed her a set of headphones and a new CD along with a steaming cup of her favorite tea. Gleefully she curled up in the over-stuffed chair in my office and went off into her own world. I could tell she was curious about what I was going to do to Janey, but she knew I treated the two of them differently.

I led Janey into her room. She was so excited I thought she would burst. When I selected the first box and handed it to her, she even squealed. Opening the box she saw a jeweled collar similar to the one her Mom had worn to the first concert. She looked up at me, eyes sparkling.

"I know you're curious about the other boxes, Janey, but I thought you should know that the Collar Rules will apply tonight. If you don't want to wear your collar, that's perfectly OK. I want you to know that. Half of these boxes are just in case you don't want to wear it tonight."

"Do I still get to keep all the presents?" Typical female.

"Yes," I grinned.

"Wow! Dad, it's beautiful!"

"So are you, Janey. I noticed you haven't been wearing the collar every chance you get, and I just wanted to make sure it's OK with you now."

"I was kind of looking forward to it, Sensei. These nights are always so special, and," she grinned impishly, "I don't just mean the presents. I was hoping you'd think of it, too." With that, she slipped to her knees and offered me the gift of her collar. She must have been practicing with her mother, because the gracefulness of her offering was exactly the same. I fastened the collar and helped her stand.

I slipped off the silk robe she had on and stood back, admiring her naked body. She was much more comfortable with her nudity now, and reveled in my admiration of her beauty. I went over and selected a second box, the largest of the ones she would get tonight. She opened it and gasped.

She pulled out an exquisite corset of deceptively sturdy manufacture. It felt light as a feather, but I had been reassured by the designers that the material was strong and that there was no give in it.

Janey stepped into the garment and pulled it up. "Oh, God!"

I grinned. I knew what she was thinking. It didn't cover a thing. The top of the corset rested snuggly under her youthful tits. The bottom barely touched the top of her trimmed pubic patch.

I had her lean over, her arms braced on her vanity table, while I cinched down her waist. As this was her first corset, it wasn't as restrictive as the ones she would be able to get into later, when her body had adapted. I pulled the drawstrings as tight as they would go, tied them off and then zipped up the heavy-duty zipper. The zipper gave the garment a finished, smooth look from the rear.

"Am I supposed to be able to breathe in this thing?" she said, turning to me.

"Dunno," I grinned at her. "But who cares, really. Look in the mirror and see what it does for your tits. God, Cricket, you're beautiful!"

She turned, and saw what I meant. The gleam in her eyes told me she liked what she saw, too. She ran her hands up over her cinched waist and ended with them cupping her breasts. Her eyes closed and she shuddered as a minor tremor swept through her.

I pointed to the remaining boxes, kissed her lightly - copping a feel or two as I did - and left to get her mother ready.

I walked in a bit ahead of schedule. I took the opportunity to drink in the beauty of my love. I hadn't had much time lately to observe her unobserved. Her eyes were closed as she listened to the music. Her empty teacup was cradled in her hands. She looked very happy.

She cracked one eye open when the CD was done. "That was nice. Thank you, Master. I hope you didn't wait long."

I grinned like a schoolboy at her sitting there. I almost hated to ruin that picture, but there was more to do tonight. I offered her my hand and she took it, smiling back at me.

I led her to our room. I took her jeweled collar from her jewelry box and handed it to her. Immediately she knelt down and offered me her collar, which I locked around her neck. I took her hand and helped her stand.

I left her standing there and went in to get Janey. She was just finishing inserting all the Rosen's gadgets. It still embarrassed her to have someone watch her put them in, so I usually let her do it herself. She looked flushed, the corset adding extra pressure and making it harder for her to bend.

I took the last remaining items, a pair of high-heeled boots made of the softest leather, and slipped them onto her feet. I probably touched her more than was necessary zipping them up, but she didn't protest. From her moans and sighs, I would say just the opposite. She just grinned at me when she saw how tall the heels were. By now she knew of my penchant for my ladies to wear very high heels, so these were not a surprise to her. I helped her walk back to where Sally was waiting.

"Oh, my!" was all Sally said when Janey appeared.

Sally looked around for her boxes and realized there was only one on the bed. I picked it up and handed it to her with a grand flourish. She tried not to look hurt, but she didn't quite succeed. That all changed when she opened it. She reached in and pulled out a white leather riding crop. It was stiffer than any we had in our collection.

I pulled a silk cord out of my pocket. I turned her around and bound her wrists behind her back. I placed the crop in her hands.

"Don't lose that, my Love, or there will be Hell to pay."

While she was standing I had her stand with her legs about shoulder width apart. I personally inserted the Rosen's little devices in her. Sally didn't like them as much as Janey, she said they took too much control from her. They made her feel too good and they frightened her. She was trembling when I finished securing the earring posts through her pierced ears. I sat her down and slipped a pair of hose on her legs, then a pair of extremely high heels. She was flushed and radiant.

I took another cord from my pocket and motioned for Janey to turn around. I tied her wrists together as well, and led both of them to the front door. There I placed the green cape around Sally's nude form and snapped the closures down the front. I pulled out another blue cape for Janey and slipped it around her shoulders.

The limo was waiting, so we exited the house and drove to the concert hall. I made sure we had the same excellent driver. Since Janey was not my 'date' this evening, both my slaves had 'equal' status. I quickly realized that both were very greedy when it came to having possession of my cock in their mouth. It became a near ugly contest very quickly, with Janey holding her own.

I pulled Sally to me and kissed her deeply. As I expected, Janey swooped down and took possession of my swollen prick. "Let the youth do the work, dearest," I whispered to her alone. Sally giggled as I slipped my hand inside her cape and took possession of one of her fine breasts. We made out like teenagers for the rest of the trip.

The driver gave us the two-minute warning by flicking the dome lights as she approached the concert hall. As mine were the only hands free, I closed up my fly. Janey actually groaned as it disappeared.

I helped both women out of the car, much to Sally's surprise. She started to walk behind me, as she had at the first concert, but I would have none of that. I took both of them by their cape-covered elbows and guided them up the steps and to our box seats.

The arrangements were similar to last time, but there was only one chair flanked on both sides by padded prayer benches for the girls to kneel upon.

As I settled them onto their knees I held the remote controls that ran their devices where they could see them. As I pushed each button, I showed them. By the second button they knew what to expect and their eyes got wider as I methodically turned on each device they were wearing to a moderate level.

Sally was sweating immediately and, after seeking my permission with a questioning look, gasped through the first of her many climaxes that night. I knew they didn't really appreciate my favorite music, but maybe in time they would learn to have whole new appreciation for it. It would certainly be fun to try.

As the orchestra finished its tuning and warm ups, I leaned back and prepared to enjoy the music. I nudged the remotes up as the first bombastic notes filled the concert hall. I don't think either Janey or Sally heard a single note. I nudged the remotes up another notch as each selection began. Sally groaned with a mixture of terror and pleasure as each piece ended. Janey just knelt there, a glazed look of bliss on her face. I could sense she was riding wave after wave of pleasure. She wasn't fighting it like her Mom was and her enjoyment was palpable.

Intermission came and I turned their units off. They needed a break. Janey wasn't pleased with the absence of the stimulation, but grinned at me after her little pout. I helped her to her feet, then turned to help Sally stand. Janey wandered towards the front of the box and was looking down over the audience. I was embracing Sally, feeling her fabulous ass beneath her cape.

Suddenly, it was like a flash of lightning stuck both Sally and I. We looked at each other, then turned to Janey. She was ashen and swaying like she was going to fall. Her eyes were fixed on a point down below us.

I sat Sally down on her bench, then went calmly over to Janey. I helped her back from the edge of the box and sat her in my chair, away from the prying eyes below. There was no need to look at what had frightened her. I knew without looking. Sally knew. I looked just to be sure. I was right.

Gary was back in town.

Chapter 32

When Janey was seated, I went back to the edge of the box. I motioned for Sally to come up behind me, to use my body as shield from being seen by anyone below us who happened to look up. She understood and stood just off my shoulder.

Gary was not hard to pick out. He, too, had two beautiful women with him. They were as dark and tan as Sally and Janey were blonde and fair. Upon closer inspection, one was much younger than the other. Another mother-daughter pair, I bet myself.

"I-I-I know her," came the quiet voice from behind me. Janey had come up and stood, like her mother, behind me, using my body as a shield. "She's new to my school, a year younger. She has an accent."

I watched him. He was cocky, confident, and sure of himself. He obviously dominated the older female and enjoyed terrorizing her by fondling the younger woman in public. His hands roamed the young girl's body freely and nearly obscenely, causing more than one matronly gasp from the staid bystanders. The mother stood meekly, eyes pleading. Strangely, the daughter was passive, not reacting at all, as if she were a mannequin.

I don't know what it was or if we all came to the same conclusion at once, but one moment I was standing there despising that man and the next I was on the telephone. I set in motion an information machine I hadn't often used since I left the government's service. It would take a few hours, but by then I would know all there was to know about the man named 'Gary'.

We left at the beginning of the second set. I called the driver as we left the box. The car was waiting as we exited the building, the driver holding open the rear door. The drive home was silent and uneventful, each of us lost in our own thoughts. Janey revived sooner than Sally and I soon felt her steamy mouth capture the head of my cock as she knelt down at my feet. I caressed her smooth cheek as she lay her head on my lap.

Her playfulness remained as we returned home. I'm not sure if that was because she remembered my promise from the last time or if she just figured that if both Sally and myself were worried about Gary, she didn't need to be. With both of us on the case, it was bound to turn out right, right? Ah, the innocent trust of the naïve.

Inside the door, I relieved both of them of their capes, exposing their beautiful bodies to my gaze. I took the crop from Sally's hands and playfully swatted her naked charms, teasing her with light to moderate snaps on her very sensitive areas. She started to move around the room and I followed her, finally finessing her down the hallway and into our bedroom. There I delivered a couple of harder swats to her ass, raising her temperature several degrees. I laid the crop on the makeup bench and turned her to me. Her eyes were snapping, all thoughts of that ugly man pushed to the side.

I made her kneel in front of that bench and face the crop. Her hands were still tied behind her. "Stay here, please," I asked/ordered her. Then I left the room

Janey was waiting impatiently, shifting from one booted foot to the other. She was not facing the door I came through so I was able to watch for several minutes before she turned and saw me looking at her. Unlike her mother, Janey blushed a deep, deep shade of red as she realized I had just been standing there looking at her nakedness. It made her seem all that more innocent and alluring.

I took her elbow and led her to her own room. She got suddenly shy and lagged a bit behind. I stopped leading her and quietly took her and held her in my arms.

"Afraid?"

She shook her head.

"What, then?"

"I don't know. I, I just don't know if I'm ready for this."

"Ready for what?" I teased.

"You know, for- for- it."

"Oh."

She was silent for a while, then with all the enthusiasm of a kid who hadn't studied for an exam she was about to take, led me into her room. She lay down on her bed and awkwardly spread her legs. God, she was beautiful!

"Now what?" I asked her.

"Huh?"

"Now what?" I repeated.

"Aren't you going to, you know, do me now?"

"No."

She looked stunned, then slowly closed her legs in embarrassment. "No?"

"No."

"But you promised. You said..."

"I said that next time it was your turn." I sat down on the bed next to her.

"Right. I thought..."

"Cricket? Who's in charge here?"

Her slave name brought her up short. "Oh. Right. You are, Sensei."

She lay in shivering disappointment as I removed the various gadgets from her. Tears began flowing silently as I unzipped and removed her soft leather boots. It wasn't until I had her second wrist secured to her headboard by the straps I had installed earlier that she realized that something was going to happen. She almost choked on her sob of relief.

I waited until she was breathing normally then patted her on her legs, indicating for her to spread them again. This was a touchy time. The last time someone had been between them had been traumatic for her. I wondered if she would do it.

It took her a little time, but she did, smiling bravely up at me, offering me open access to her most private areas. I moved between her spread legs and knelt between them. I caressed the smooth skin of her thighs gently. I could feel her fear and I almost pulled back. I don't know why I kept on, but I did. I guess I didn't want to waste her courage, to mock it.

"Now it's your turn, Cricket," I said softly as I bowed my head and kissed that softest of skin on the inside of her thighs. Nothing more was said as I proceeded to bring her to heretofore unknown heights of ecstasy using only my tongue. She was screaming and thrashing her blonde tresses as she came over and over.

I started to remove her corset when she was sated, but she shook her head 'no', pleading with her eyes. I silently nodded my assent, then inserted into her cunt and asshole the larger sized appliances that had been custom made for her by the Rosen's. The diabolical ones. The ones that plugged into the wall and didn't wear down.

I tied her ankles to the footboard and left her corseted and spread-eagled for the night. She wouldn't get much sleep. I had programmed those big vibrators for 'simmer.' They would monitor her biofeedback and keep her at a fever pitch until they were turned off. About once an hour they would let her go over the edge, then they would keep her at that higher level until the next push to the next level. By morning she should be nearly crazy. Of course, she could get loose with a stiff pull, but she wouldn't do it. I turned my attention to my next task, my love.

Sally was weeping silently as I came in the room. I knew she was as unsure as I was of what she had asked me to do with Janey. I opened my fly and pushed my dick under her nose.

"Taste."

She did, hesitantly. She wasn't sure if I was rubbing it in or what. She jerked her head up in amazement as she realized she didn't taste cunt juice.

I leaned down to kiss her. "Taste," I said, smiling gently.

She kissed me gently, then, with the tip of her tongue, tasted her daughter's juices on my face.

"Forgive me, Master, for doubting you."

"You're forgiven. But I'm still going to use the crop on you tonight," I said with a wicked grin on my face.

Sally gasped at that reminder. I thought she got a little paler, too. As much as she sought the pain and submission, she still feared my inexperience. I hoped tonight would help her get over that fear.

I helped her kneel in front of the bench with it touching her ass. I then bent her backwards over the bench as she had been that first night. This time, however, I tied her wrists to her ankles under the bench. Her tits were prominently offered to my whims, as was her defenseless twat.

I started lightly, teasing the tips of her tits, flicking it with the end of the white crop, caressing them, almost. I laid a couple of light strokes quickly across her taut belly, warming the flesh there. Then I worked her shoulders to a ruddy glow, avoiding the super sensitive neck areas. Still, the numerous blows tantalizingly close to her face and neck made her shudder. Slowly, as I worked the tensions and pain and pleasure in her higher and higher, she realized I had not misplaced one single blow with the dangerous weapon. I felt her fears relax as she gave herself up to the pain and pleasure.

I led her down the path she desired, wringing cry after heart wrenching cry from her. Still she wanted more and harder from me. Her tits were blazing red, a mass of mottled color, but without a single welt or drop of blood. When she was maxed out and could go no higher, I stepped in front of her and with a vicious but calculated blow, I brought the crop up between her thighs to land on her swollen and throbbing cunt lips.

I thought she was going to break her back. I had been chasing and stirring the lights of her aura, teasing her and arousing her with the pain she sought. But this was like a super nova. I had never seen so bright a light from either her or Janey's auras. I played the crop off the sides of her inner thighs, as close to her crotch as I could get. I teased her with the pain, then I would deluge her with it. She slipped into a state of mind I don't think she knew existed. She was far beyond the singing stage that Bala talked about.

If I could not have seen her aura to help her, to watch her, I would have been terrified for her. As it was, I was able to sense her needs and guide her as she existed on that sensual plateau. Later, I lay beside her in bed as she dreamed, or whatever she did. She was so relaxed, yet so energized. I drifted off to sleep, Sally cradled in my arms.

I woke later to find her watching me with quiet eyes. There was no fear anymore, only love. I was her Master. I tossed and turned for the rest of the night, troubled by dark thoughts. I felt Sally's cool touch trying to sooth me.

I must have drifted off sometime during that short night, as I woke up alone, the first time in a long time. I remembered why I didn't like it. I also missed my morning blowjob by Janey, too, but then I remembered I had left her tied to her bed. Guess I couldn't blame her for not getting up, huh? Still, I wondered where Sally was.

I shaved and showered, again alone, so I finished in a lot less time. I missed shaving Sally. She was so appreciative of my attentions afterwards. I don't know which of us enjoyed doing that more.

I dressed and wandered into the kitchen. I was surprised to see Janey up and about, dressed and perky. After the night she must have had, I was amazed she could walk, but I guess they are right when they say that 'youth is wasted on the young.' She saw me come into the kitchen and her smile lit up the room. I caught her flying body in my arms as she threw herself at me.

"Ooooooh, thank you, Daddy!"

"I take it you had a good time?"

"Oh, God! I didn't know it could be so good! I mean, I've felt a little bit of it when you and Mom, uh, do stuff, but - Wow! Oh, yeah, speaking of Mom, what in the Hell did you do to her last night?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it's like I was feeling great, you know, and then WHAMO, this tidal wave comes over the link, but it doesn't stop. It just kept coming and coming." She giggled at her pun. "But it didn't surge like usual, it just flowed, but not a lot. It's hard to describe."

I kissed her on the nose and gave her my Cheshire Cat grin.

"Oh, not going to tell me, huh?" she teased back. Then, seriously, "That's OK, Dad. She is incredibly happy. I enjoyed what we did, too," she blushed, "not just the licking part - but that was great! - but I liked wearing the corset and being tied up, too. It was a weird feeling, good, though. I didn't think I would like it, but I kind of, well, like, felt secure in it. I mean, I was as good as naked, but it felt good, not naughty."

"Well, you certainly looked naughty. Lusciously, deliciously naughty," I joked.

She giggled, then got serious again. It looked like that was the way the morning was going. "I don't think I'm ready for what you did to Mom," she said quietly.

"You don't know what I did, though, do you?"

"No, that's not what I mean. I meant I'm not sure I could handle how Mom felt. I don't know I would want to come back down. She's stronger than I am that way."

I hugged her even closer. "Just say the word and I will stop whatever it is you don't like or whatever it is you're afraid of, even if it's that you're afraid it is too good. I almost didn't do anything last night, you know. You were so scared, but so brave. I'm proud of you, kiddo."

This time it was her turn not to answer. She snuggled into my chest.

"Where is your Mom, by the way?"

"She left about an hour ago, just after she let me up. I didn't want her to but she was really serious. I wouldn't let her take off my collar, though. What's going on? She wouldn't tell me anything. She made a telephone call, then rushed out."

I reached behind her head and unsnapped her slave collar for her. She sighed as I slipped it into my pocket. We stood for a long time that way, a father and daughter. I could almost have believed we were a normal family, until I felt her tiny hand wend its way down to my jeans and unzip my fly.

"You didn't, uh, get any relief at all last night, did you, Dad." It was a statement.

"Guy's won't explode if they don't cum, Janey. Regardless of what your boyfriends tell you."

"Daaad! I don't have a boyfriend," she protested, a bit too strongly, I thought.

"Well, last night was for you and your Mom. I can wait."

"Well, this morning is for you," she quipped, as she wiggled out of my arms and down to her knees. She latched on to my cock with the full force of her mouth and began seriously sucking and bobbing. Even though she had been doing this on a daily basis, with her nearly naked and in my bed, this blowjob seemed sexier than any she had ever given me, with the exception of the first one. This time both she and I were fully clothed, and in the kitchen. It was somehow highly erotic, highly charged. I held off as long as I could, but I blew into that luscious mouth in much too short a time. Janey didn't stop with one load, though. She seemed determined to drain me of all the excess build-up from last night.

Sally came in carrying a heavy canvas bag while her daughter was still busy on her knees. She stopped and looked at us and gave me a wry grin. "Damn, I wanted to say 'thank you' first. She beat me to it."

"Uh, I think there'll be more when she's done, Love," I grinned back. I was amazed there was no jealousy between them. "I missed you this morning."

She looked appalled, as if she had made a serious miscalculation by leaving. "I, uh, I just, I..."

"Its OK, Love. I didn't mean anything by that. I just missed you and our time together. I wanted you to know."

She got all teary eyed and blubbery on me. For the second time that morning I had to catch a launched body, only this time I had a hot sucking mouth attached to my groin that hampered me. I managed.

Sally smothered my face and chest with kisses. Then proceeded south. I don't know how she managed to dislodge Janey from her possessive sucking, but soon I recognized Sally's talented mouth on my shaft. I cracked open my eyes and saw Janey standing there, grinning at me.

"Feel better, now, Pops?"

"Pops?"

"Yeah! You shot off so quick this time, like you just 'popped', you know? So... Pops!" She giggled at my responding growl.

I maneuvered my butt over to a chair and settled in it. With Sally on her knees, Janey busied herself with breakfast. No fancy cooking today. Today it was dry toast and yogurt. Only by wheedling could I get her to make the coffee.

Sally swallowed, then stood up. She still looked weepy. I guess she was still being whipsawed by the emotions from last night. She settled on my lap after carefully putting away my softening cock. She fed me breakfast as I held her. I could tell she needed to be held. But there was something else, too. She wasn't normally this serious.

Janey cleared the breakfast mess and we sat together in silence. When the last coffee was gone, Sally got up and lifted the heavy canvas bag onto the table. Unzipping it, she proceeded to set out two semi-automatic rifles, two very large caliber pistols and several dozen boxes of ammunitions for each. Talk about breaking the mood!

"Done a little shopping, have you?" I quipped.

"You're going to be gone." Damn that woman! How the hell did she know? I know for a fact I did not talk in my sleep. How?

"Only a couple of days."

"He was too confident last night." She was referring to that cocky son-of-a-bitch, Gary.

"I noticed. You want to tell me exactly what you said to him to get him to leave?"

"Shit!"

We both turned to face Janey, who never used language like that. I raised my eyebrows in an unspoken question to her.

"You're talking about him, right? Gary?" We nodded. "God, I remember that night, what happened. I must have only been, what, 11? Anyway, she didn't say anything to him, Dad."

"Nothing?"

"Nope. Not a word. But we were patching bullet holes in the walls for months. She must have shot a hundreds times."

I turned to Sally. "I thought you said you couldn't shoot?"

Janey chimed in before Sally could speak. "Oh, she can shoot. She just can't hit anything. She missed the bastard ..."

"Janey! Watch your language!"

"...every single time, except the last one that blew up his car. And you called him a 'bastard' yourself, Mom, along with some other choice names."

I sat in stunned silence. It takes incredible talent to miss that many times at such close range. I had seen her shoot. I had suspected she was too good to have been a novice, even if she had screwed up with the safety on my gun. My pistol was an unusual model, so she may not have known where it was or how it operated. Regardless, I knew what it was like to be shot at. I knew why Gary had stayed away. Up until now.

That didn't tell me why he was back. Or if he had plans for Sally and Janey. He may have seen Janey's picture on TV after the attack. It could have stirred old feelings of revenge. I didn't know. I just knew there was some unfinished business and I hated loose ends. I had to tie things up.

I looked at the weaponry spread out on the table. Sally had selected well, if she was going to stop an elephant. Or an enraged man. I also didn't think she intended to miss this time. I didn't intend to let it get that far.

I knew what it was to kill a man, what it did to you inside. In the course of my agency work, I had had to learn to kill. I had done it very well. Too well, for my taste, even if the targets had deserved it. Something dies inside of you each time you take a life, though, and there had been many times. Too many, but even once was too many when it came to killing - or dying. I did not want that to happen to Sally or, God forbid, Janey. I, myself, would avoid doing it again if I could. If I couldn't, well, that was a bridge to cross when I came to it.

"You can't stay here. He knows the house too well."

"I was going to take Janey to Mac and CeCe's place for a while."

I thought about that. "Mac's out of town for a series in Seattle. CeCe works all over the area and couldn't be there all the time. I'd rather you go stay with Marion, my sister. She's just moved back into our folk's house and has plenty of room. Her court isn't in session right now and I know she'd love the company."

"I don't know her that well."

"My point exactly. Neither does Gary. He may know about your relationship to CeCe."

"Oh. Right. OK. Will she be OK with those?" She indicated the guns.

I grinned. "She can probably train you how to field strip them, although something tells me you know how already. There's a target range in the second basement, too. Oh, and have her show you her assault weapons collection."

"I thought she was a Federal Judge! Aren't those kinds of guns illegal?"

"Yeah, but they only get really excited when you wave them around on the White House lawn. Some of them in the collection are mine, too." She looked at me even more shocked. "What, I can't have some toys...?" I asked in mock exasperation.

After that there wasn't much to say. Sally and Janey packed and left. Just before they drove off, Sally hugged me goodbye.

"Be careful, Larry. Janey's right. He is a bastard. A ruthless and dangerous bastard"

Janey just squeezed me like she never wanted to let go. I felt the same way, but things had to be finished. I couldn't let that unknown threat stay out there. I had to at least know what the man was like.

When they were gone I made my way to a nondescript building in the center of town. Most towns have one of these quiet structures, those buildings that look like offices, generally close to the municipal offices, but no one actually knows anybody who works there. They may have the first floor or two occupied by small shops to make the building look occupied, but the buttons to the upper floors are disabled or missing in the elevators.

The entry to the upper floors in this building was restricted to the underground garage, another part of the structure most people didn't remember being built. The entry to the garage was two blocks over, through the restricted parking garage under the city hall, so the general public never saw it. Most city employees were too dull to notice the extra cars disappear through that locked automatic garage door on the second level. The ones who weren't were too smart to ask questions.

Stepping off the elevator on the top floor of that building, I slid my ID into the reader. I underwent a retinal scan, a voice scan and had my fingerprints checked. It always amazed me how much detailed information the government had and to what extent it went to hide that knowledge from the public. And all this happened in what was supposed to be a so-called democracy. If the public had even the smallest clue exactly how much their government knew about them, they would tear it down, brick by brick. I used to think it was the price we paid for our freedom. Now I wasn't so sure. Those nagging unanswered questions were the main reason I was no longer active for the agency.

I still had full access, however. They liked me. I had done well for them, and never screwed up, e.g., got caught. I also knew where too many bodies were buried, literally.

Our local analyst had just finished with the information I had asked for. He looked up at me as I came through the heavy metal door and grinned. "Interesting case," was all he said.

That got my attention immediately. Most Americans, 99.99% of them anyway, live humdrum, mundane lives, those 'lives of quiet desperation'. They are uneducated, unmotivated, apathetic, lazy, boring, bland or any combination thereof, yet corporately, they have been capable of achieving some of the greatest feats in history, when properly aroused. Our current government felt it was their sacred duty to keep the people from becoming motivated to any action, whatsoever.

The analysts for the agency had seen it all. If agents like me were the legs of the agency, the analysts were the brains. They spent most of their waking hours looking at trivial, seemingly unrelated data points and finding critical patterns. From those patterns emerged their best guesses. Some of them were able to make very good guesses about the behavior of certain types of people.

Our analyst was one of the best. We had worked together before and kidded each other good-naturedly. I accused him about being a closet voyeur and he was always asking me to introduce him to my ex-girlfriends. We never saw each other socially, however. It just wasn't done. I think he grudgingly admired some of the work I had done, or had been able to accomplish based on his work, as he put it. What these guys never admitted to was being surprised. So, for a case to be 'interesting' to him meant that Gary was different. To me, that meant he was dangerous, unpredictable.

He handed me a surprisingly thin file. I took it to a secure office and locked myself in. I would have to give him back the exact same file before I could leave the floor. Security was really tight and I didn't object.

The file on Gary was interesting. I reviewed his file, always with the awareness that there could be some critical piece of information that was missing, something that the government just didn't know. Nobody could know everything. I looked through the list of his known girlfriends and the dates they had been together. I saw Sally's name and cringed. That would cross-link back to my file. I would have to be extra careful that, if anything terminal happened, it couldn't be traced back to me.

While he had been with Sally for a long time, there were a number of others he had also seen during that same time period. He had two-timed her. I saw that pattern run throughout his relationships. One steady girl, a lot of flings.

One of the other names I recognized, or thought I did, and it brought me up short. A name from my past. I got a sinking feeling in my gut. This girl was the daughter of a friend of mine from Chile. I remembered her as a high-spirited wisp of a girl, determined to make it in a man's world and totally unprepared for the consequences. Not exactly spoiled, but naively unaware of the evils of poverty and the depravity of which mankind was capable. Juan Miguel had protected his daughter too well.

She had run away from his loving home, come to New York, and then after a couple of months had gone missing. I was in Chile when she had disappeared, working with him. I owed him my life, in fact, but that's another story. He had been distraught when she ran away, especially to New York, but she was a headstrong girl. Her subsequent disappearance had devastated him. She called herself 'Miki' and pronounced it like the shoe company 'Nike.'

I found the specific piece of information I was looking for buried in a list of his assets, hidden under an assumed name. He had used several aliases, which didn't surprise me. That he used them as well as he did, did. Most people get clumsy and screw up. He didn't. He was too good to be lucky. Gary had been trained, and by a top group, too, was my guess.

When I handed the file back to the analyst, I pointed out the list of known associates. I knew several of them, fellow agents or agents with other agencies. "Is he one of us?"

He grinned at me, always seemingly amused that I could think. "Not that I could tell. I looked as deep as I could, and that's pretty deep. Hell, I can get your file. The good one, your operations file."

I was impressed. I couldn't even see that file. "Any chance he's deeper?"

"Not with his profile. He's interesting, but, well, we know just a little bit too much about him. If he were any deeper than you were, we wouldn't know anything. Hell, your file is only two pages long and most of that is what you told me!" He grinned wryly. "I haven't gotten around to entering some of it, you know. Just too busy. Of course, if I had a nice lady to go home to, I would be even busier..." he tailed off, hinting.

I looked up at him sharply. He knew about Sally. I had mentioned her to him several times, especially since I was living with her now and had to let him know where he could reach me in an emergency. He paled at my look and knew he had tread too close to blackmail to suit me.

"Damn, Sampson, you know I'm joking," he blustered lamely. "Besides, they already know about her," he added softly. "They are really insistent about knowing everything about you, you know." He glanced around to see who could overhear us. "I shouldn't even tell you that, though."

"I know. This one just hits too close to home. For a couple of reasons. But I'm a little touchy about Sally."

"Yeah. I saw that when that bastard spoiled brat of a jock raped her daughter. He got off lucky only losing one ball." His voice was venomous. "What exactly did you do to get rid of all that media?"

"You don't know?"

"I tried like the devil, but corporate lawyers are the hardest bunch to crack for information. We still haven't got a clue."

I told him what I had done, about the letter, the threat.

He just chuckled. "Damn, you play hard ball."

From him, I took it as a compliment.

The key piece of information I had found in Gary's file was an address. Not just any address. It was an address in a middle class residential part of town. One of the biggest secrets the government doesn't want you to know is that the greatest threat to the security of America resides in the vast middle class neighborhoods. Not from any of the middle class Americans who live there, but from the enormity of the apathy that does. No one cares who lives next door as long as they mow the grass, don't make noise at night, don't park clunkers on their lawns and above all, don't lower the property values. No one knows who lives next door to them, either. You could deliver an atom bomb and then hide it in a basement in suburbia. No one would know. No one would have a clue.

That's what I found here. Gary had discovered the anonymity of suburbia. I had asked Sally if Gary had ever taken her to his place for a party or anything. She had said no, only her place, hotels or sleazy bars. Towards the end, she said, he had been hinting that they could do more bondage stuff at his special place full time, but kept implying that Janey was a problem. He had kept trying to get her to pull Janey out of school and home school her. Sally had refused, insisting that Janey needed the social interaction. But he had never taken her anywhere that might have been his safe house.

I was impressed when I drove by the house. He could have qualified to entertain the president with the high level of security he had installed. None of it was classified that I could tell, as it was all commercially available - at a hefty price, too. As it was, it was almost a challenge for me to break in undetected later that night. Almost. It was good. I was better. It made me wonder what he had to hide that was worth what that setup must have cost him.

I was sickened when I found out his dirty little secret. With all the external security he had installed, he didn't feel he needed a safe. It wouldn't have done him much good, anyway, so he probably saved himself some bucks. The bastard was meticulous, all the photos and videos were neatly labeled and dated. There were several files of photos and videos labeled 'Sally' with dates that corresponded with the time they were together. There was also one video cassette labeled 'Miki.' My guts were in a twisted knot as I slipped that one into the VCR. I dreaded what I would find, but even I was unprepared for the brutality of the film.

Miki, beautiful, proud, brave Miki was tied to a bed. The film showed Gary talking to her, telling her that he just wanted one more thing from her and then he would let her go. He wanted to make a film with her. She spit in his face. He slapped her. She spit at him again. He hit her. Back and forth. He got tired first, but they were both covered with her blood and spittle when he quit hitting her.

He kept a knife at her throat as he released her wrists, then handcuffed them in front of her. The next scene showed her dangling from her cuffed wrists, her beautiful face swollen and bleeding, but still recognizable. He approached her with a heavy-duty cattle prod. She was screaming in pain, swearing in Spanish at him. Then he cut her intentionally with his big knife. Badly, across her face. A look of horror and realization flooded her proud eyes. As protected as she had been from the seamy side of life, she still knew what kind of film she was going to be the star of. To her credit, she refused to cooperate with the bastard.

From that point on in the movie, she made no sound, made no movement at all that wasn't literally forced out of her body. Oh, he could still get her to twitch with the cattle prod and moan when he cut her, but for all practical purposes she was a slab of beef swaying on a meat hook. Then, just as I was about as sickened as I could get, she mustered her waning strength. In a clear voice that would have done her father proud, she turned her face and spoke to the camera.

"My name is Madonna Micheala Lucinda Carmalita de la Fernando. The souls of those buried here around me are crying out for vengeance. I swear upon their souls and the soul of my sainted mother that my father, Senor Juan Miguel de la Fernando, will hunt you to the ends of the earth and bring you to justice." It had taken all of her strength to say that, and from then on she just hung there.

I sat there in the darkened house, stunned into immobility as I watched him callously finish her off, but her final haunting words gave me the structure of a plan. Before I left, I checked out the rest of the house. I found the room in which the film had been made. It was the only room in the basement with a solid floor. The rest of the basement flooring had been removed, leaving only dirt. I looked over the rows of mounds of dirt laid out in an orderly fashion. Dozens of graves. One was Miki's. One might have been Sally's. I vomited and left, taking the several videos of Sally and the one of Miki, as well as the two thick files with their photographs with me. Fuck the rules of tampering with evidence. There was more than enough evidence that I left behind. Even Clinton would have had a hard time denying this one.

I called Juan Miguel the next day. It was one of the hardest telephone calls I had ever had to make. I told him straight out I had found what had happened to Miki. And I had proof who did it. Would he like to see the proof? I cautioned him it was the worst thing I had ever seen. He knew I had been in some tough situations and that I had seen a lot of the worst the human race had to offer.

My bluntness seemed to stir him to life. He wanted to see it. I over-nighted it to him. He called me back the next day after viewing the tape. He wanted revenge.

Now that I had his cooperation, over the next couple of days, it wasn't hard to get Gary to cooperate with my plan. He had one Achilles heel, and that was he needed money to maintain his lifestyle and his image. A lot of money. A friend of a friend of a friend told him of a lucrative opportunity in Santiago, Chile. His friend told Gary that he would do this himself, but that hands were full, etc., etc., but if Gary wanted to go down and shepherd this deal through, this big South American honcho would cut him in for a stiff percentage. Just go down, bring back a fugitive for someone who couldn't enter Chile for political reasons and so on. In other words, a political kidnapping. Just the kind of thing to hook a guy who hung around with black ops guys, a 'wanna be.' Gary fell for it hook, line and sinker.

I told Juan Miguel that Gary would be down the day after next and which flight he would be on. I had Gary shadowed by someone Juan Miguel knew, insurance that Gary would arrive in Santiago and also to act as a Judas to point him out to Juan Miguel's agents. When I told the shadow, an acquaintance, what was going on he did it gratis.

When the shadow reported back three weeks later, I was pleased to hear that Juan Miguel had not blown Gary away in the airport. I'm sure he was tempted to, but he was a better man than that. A beautiful servant girl had met Gary at the airport. He was ushered to a waiting limo and then leisurely driven to a hacienda deep in the hills surrounding that beautiful city. Another agent working for Juan Miguel and known to the shadow had met the shadow as well. He was offered the opportunity to watch Chilean justice in action. Curious, he too, was driven to the hacienda, taking a quicker route. They arrived before Gary and the maid and were waiting in a private viewing room, watching the proceedings through a one-way mirror.

Gary was visibly impressed with the accommodations. This was real power. He was seated in a comfortable chair in a place of honor. Seated where he was, though, he couldn't see the movement of the people behind him. One by one, the august group of sham politicians who had been there to greet him left the room and were replaced by armed guards. Juan Miguel kept Gary focused on him by telling one ribald anecdote after another. When the last soldier was in place, Juan Miguel told Gary he wanted to show him a clip of the fugitive. They darkened the room and turned on a huge wide-screen TV.

The image flickered then became clear. They had cut down the image so that just Miki's face showed. Her voice came across loud and clear, even into the room where the shadow was watching. After the short clip, Juan Miguel stood and said, "Perhaps I should formally introduce myself. My name is Juan Miguel de la Fernando, and that was my only daughter. I should also introduce you to Col. Eduardo Perez. He is the commander of a small government penal facility at the southern tip of my country, outside of Punta Arenas. He has seen the entire video you made of my lovely daughter. He will be arranging for your accommodations for the remainder of your stay with us."

With that, he turned his back on the murderer of his child and walked proudly out of the room. Gary, true to his nature, tried to fight his way out when he realized he had been lured into a trap. His brief struggles ended with his nose meeting a rifle butt. I don't think the rifleman cared much for Gary, either.

The shadow was invited to observe Gary's confinement. It was brief, but it left the man shaken to the core. All he said was that Gary, or what was left of him after living in a rat-infested hole, died in less than two weeks, a very old man. I knew what he meant.

The shadow then told me that Col. Perez had asked him to relay a message to me. Apparently Juan Miguel had told him of how he came by the video. The message was that 'between honorable men, all is forgiven.' He had also extended an offer to visit him in Chile.

I thanked the shadow, my friend, and shuddered to think of re-visiting Col. Perez. I had already visited him once. That was enough. That small government facility was a maximum-security hellhole dubiously called a prison. I had been there, myself, in the same place as Gary, with a collar the size of a manhole cover locked around my neck. With the rest of my body crammed into a putrid, rat-infested sewage pipe and the manhole cover locked to the ground, only my head was visible. I shuddered as I remembered the horror of trying to defend my weakened body from the attacks of the ravenous rats I couldn't see. Sleeping under those conditions was out of the question, too. I could believe he died an old man. You aged very quickly under those circumstances.

Col. Perez was the only law in that part of Chile. What he said overruled any other authority within his jurisdiction. He and I had had a difference of opinion while I was in his town. As a result, he wanted me to stay in his prison. I did not. I think I am the only person to have escaped from that place, though I still regret the necessity of crippling two of the guards in the process. Given the savagery they lived with, it might have been kinder to kill them outright. I heard later that the other inmates had found them crippled and had tortured them to death.

That detail of the other inmates killing the guards had been left out of the report to the local authorities and thus, the search was on for a 'cop killer.' The search ended when I crossed out of his jurisdiction with the quiet help of Juan Miguel, which is why I owed him my life. Without his help, I am convinced I would never have made it. I was wounded, exhausted, penniless and drained of every ounce of energy I possessed. I was down to my last hope and Juan Miguel came through for me. Giving him closure on this horrible incident was the least I could do for him.

As a final chapter to the story of Gary, I wrote up my report on the incident, complete with my involvement and of my relationships with Sally, Miki and Juan Miguel. I never cut corners in my reports, I never lied. Sometimes it hurt, but eventually, it had always served me well. I wasn't about to change now.

I e-mailed my report to the analyst. He called me back almost immediately and asked a couple of questions, then rang off. A couple of days later he called me down to the anonymous building downtown.

"Watch this," he said mysteriously. "The show is just about to begin."

I looked at what appeared to be a video feed from a stationary camera. I recognized the house as Gary's suburban hideaway. Suddenly, like a scene from the Keystone Kops, federal and local law enforcement vehicles began filling the screen, lights flashing crazily in the dark. Several agents with a yellow "FBI" emblazoned like targets on the backs of their dark blue windbreakers jumped out of a still-moving vehicle and raced up to the front door, as if eager to be the first ones on the scene. I knew, unless the analyst had deactivated the alarms, that they had just tripped three systems, two of which were booby-trapped.

"Did you tip them off?"

"Yep! Set up the camera feed, too, to watch the fuckers screw up.

"Did you tell them about the security?" I asked him.

"Yep! I said the guy had tight security."

"Oh, God! You didn't describe the systems?" He shook his head, grinning. "You know that to them, 'tight security' means the guy has a big dog."

I watched in horror as the first agent reached to open the door. The ensuing explosion knocked him and his partner flat on their asses. The other agents, mistaking the explosion for resistance, proceeded to try to blow the fucking house apart with small arms fire and teargas grenades.

"You modified the explosives, you bastard," I chided him. He just grinned. "You're just lucky those two agents had the sense to stay down or they would have stood up into friendly fire." He stopped grinning. Analysts don't know or think of everything.

The FBI reported the shootout had been the culmination of years of painstaking work by hundreds of agents to capture a serial killer. They produced a credible likeness of Gary and a conveniently bullet-riddled corpse. The newspapers carried the photos of the dead girls that were dug up in the basement. Due to the carnage, several of the videocassettes had been damaged so it wasn't too suspicious when there were more bodies than tapes. Everyone just assumed one or two had been destroyed in the shootout.

Miki was finally laid to rest in a proper grave.