"Sugoe!"
Joe Killian grinned as he heard Yukari Mei Awai's breathless pronouncement of her take on seeing Manhattan for the first time as they crossed the Brooklyn Bridge. She was in the back seat of his Ford with her nose pressed to the window.
It was 8:30 at night, and a storm front was moving over the city. Clouds covered the tops of the skyscrapers that dotted lower Manhattan, illuminated by the light still glowing from the buildings themselves, giving the city a fairy tale glow.
"See those two blue beams rising into the sky on the left?" Michelle Qwan said from the passenger seat. "That's where the World Trade Center used to be."
Yukari continued to look in awe until the Ford made it into the depths of lower Manhattan.
"Where to now?" Qwan asked. "Going to see this lady friend of yours?"
"She's not a friend," Killian said. "Just a... confidential informant."
"Then why do you think we should stay with her?" Yukari asked.
"Cuz nobody on earth knows she exists except me," Killian answered.
"Works for me," Qwan said.
"But first a little stopover." Killian pulled suddenly into an empty elevated carpark on Chambers Street. He cut the windshield wipers as they went up the well-lit but deserted levels, until he stopped behind another blue Ford Crown Victoria just like his.
A short, balding man in a raincoat and suit got out and waved. He reminded Qwan of George Costanza on Seinfeld.
Everybody got out of the car as Killian made the introductions.
"Ladies, this is my partner, Thad Kudlow," Killian said. "Thad, this is Inspector Michelle Qwan of the RCMP, and Officer Yukari Mei Awai of the Tokyo PD. Both are here on ICPO credentials."
"Glad to meet you both!" He smiled. He then nudged Killian. "Aren't you the lucky duck!"
"Oh yeeeeah!" Killian replied.
"So you get followed from the airport?" Kudlow asked.
"Not so I could tell," Killian replied. "Which means chances are good theres a tracking device somewhere on my car."
"Well we'll know in a sec." Kudlow took out a portable scanbox from the trunk of his car and started circling Killian's ride.
"Bingo!" he said. "Got a hit. Looks like a Global Positioning System unit... somewhere back by the muffler. you want me to disable it?"
"Nope," Killian said. "I want you and me to switch cars. Then I want you to try to lure whoever is following us to close enough to make an arrest."
"Sounds like a fun way to spend an evening," Kudlow said. "I'll contact a friend on the SWAT team and see if he and a few friends wanna do something on a slow Wednesday night."
Killian nodded. He and Kudlow traded keys while Qwan and Yukari got their luggage from the trunk and transferred it over to the other car, then Killian and them took off once more into the rain filled night.
***
"So this is the famous Greenwich Village?" Yukari said, as she peered out the window with Killian driving west on Houston with the windsheld wipers slapping away.
"Yup," he replied. "And its still the gayest street in the whole US of A. So if you and the Inspector go out together, be sure to hold hands."
"Honto-ni?" Yukari asked.
"He's just messing with you, Kohai," Qwan said easily. She looked to Killian. "So where is this mysterious woman of yours?"
"Right here." He turned down a narrow alleyway between Hudson and Greenwich, which seemed to be surrounded by gentrified brownstones. He parked illegally between two overflowing --and forgotten-- dumpsters and cut the engine.
Everybody jumped out and retrieved the luggage the best they could, then went running through the rain to a steel firedoor that Killian opened with a key he had.
"Fourth floor," Killian said in the dark and foul smelling stairwell. "No elevators."
"Naturally," Qwan replied.
The threesome trudged up the stairs, coming to a hallway that had seen better days, but was still no dump. He knocked hard on Apt. 4-C.
The Hacker Queen came to the door resplendent in her shiny black PVC Goth gear and a cigarette dangling from her fingers. "Awwwwwwrighty, fed... Just cuz I let you and your crew crash here, doesn't mean you assholes have squatters rights forever. Sabe?"
She blew a lungful of cigarette smoke into Killian's face as he passed. As Qwan passed she tried the same move on her, only to get a rude awakening.
Michelle Qwan neatly snatched the Virginia Slims 120 out of her mouth and ground it out on the floor.
"Heeeeey..." she whined.
"That's a nasty habit," Qwan said, looking the defiant Hacker Queen in the eyes. "Smoking can be dangerous to your health. Especially if you do it around me."
"And who the fuck do you think you are?" Hacker Queen growled.
"I am a guest in your abode," Qwan said, dropping her luggage on the floor as Yukari entered last. "And one should always treat your guests with respect."
"Ohhhhhh... Kitties!!!" Yukari dropped to her knees and stroked the Hacker Queen's collection of cats as they came up to check out the new humans who had entered their territory. "How kawaii!"
"Killian!!!" The Hacker Queen shouted. "Just who the fuck are these two crazyass bitches?"
"This is Michelle, and this is
Yukari," Killian replied. "And all you need to know is that they're your
guests. So be nice."
"Bullshit," Hacker Queen replied. "This is DCI Michelle Qwan of
the RCMP and late of the Hong Kong PD, that is when she wasn't doing wetwork
for the Brits in Mainland China..."
Qwan frowned. "Who told..."
"Last night in Montreal you tried to collar a white slaver named Samarkand," Hacker Queen continued. "Only he set you up and almost blew you to kingdom come. And just today, some Quebecois bangers tried to whack you." She grinned. "You're a popular lady!"
Qwan looked at Killian who shrugged. "Don't look at me, I didn't tell her. She's just that good. She finds out what she needs to know about anybody she wants."
Qwan nodded and looked over at the Hacker Queen. "Okay then, tell me about Valerie Corder, Don Vincenzo Scagnetti, and Detective Susan Kaminsky."
"Sure," she answered. "This way."
She led the way into another large room where three PCs were set up on desks, and where one whole wall had become an information center for the case they were working on.
Pictures of the people involved were taped to the wall, along with notes and files, not to mention scribbles in black magic marker and red lipstick.
In the center of the floor a large Persian cat was digging away in a litter box.
"Now, letsee..."Hacker Queen went to the wall with her hands on her hips. "We'll start with Don Vincenzo Scagnetti, head of the Scagnetti crime cartel, and one of the original 'five families' of la Costra Nostra, going back to 1946, when the Barzini family lost out to the Tatagilias."
"Does Don Vincenzo really have Alzhiemers like my snitch Cundalini said?" Killian asked.
"Is Batman a transvestite? Who the fuck knows?" Hacker Queen replied. "But one thing is for sure, he has no real power. His wife, La Donia Lucrezia is the power behind the throne now."
"What's her background?" Qwan asked.
"Daughter of a San Francisco mob boss named Carmine Ricca, who got killed in 1973 when she was 20 years old. She moved east and became a mob girl. Lucked out and married big cheese Scagnetti in '74. They had one kid, a Joey Scagnetti who grew up and moved to Los Angeles where he got involved in nose candy and hard core porno, including kiddie porn and snuff films. He got killed last night."
Yukari frowned. "And how is his death connected to this case?"
"Who said it was, Sailor Moon?" Hacker Queen replied. "Some LA cop caught him with some has-been starlet in the trunk and he shot it out with the cops. Bang bang, you dead."
"Okay, Lets say we've connected the people trying to kill Inspector Qwan last night with Scagnetti," Killian said. "Why would Donia Scagnetti be after after her?"
"That I don't know," Hacker Queen said. "Scagnetti's operations are strictly east coast, while Qwan here has been operating out of Vancouver for years."
"What about Valerie Corder?" Qwan asked.
Hacker Queen shrugged. "New York socialite with deep, deep pockets. Runs a legit business. Shipping, Air cargo and rail. Point A to point B. It's not sexy but it pays the bills. I have nothing on her."
"What about the allegation made by Detective Kaminsky that Corder is into white slavery?" Killian asked.
Hacker Queen laughed. "Christ, you've been reading to many detective magazines, fed."
Killian turned to Qwan. "What do you have to say?"
Qwan slipped off her coat and found a torn up armchair to sit in. "The skintrade exists. And not only in Eastern Europe and Africa. But everywhere in the world."
"Then you did tell Kaminsky about Corder?"
"Sue Kaminsky called me up in Vancouver six months ago," Qwan said. "She knew that three years ago I had traveled to Honduras under ICPO credentials to take out a white slaver named Hendricks. He ran a slave farm in Teguchigapa called 'La Hacienda'. There we rescued 12 women --all westerners-- from a life of sexual slavery."
"Damn," Hacker Queen whispered.
"I found computer files there that linked Samarkand with Valerie Corder's company," Qwan continued. "Nothing worth taking to court, but enough to start nosing around."
"So you think this Valerie Corder is a white slaver too," Killian said. "Does she have a reason besides that to want you dead?"
Qwan smiled. "Valerie Corder and I have never met, but I know she is interested in creating an alliance with the San Yee On, a Pacific Rim Triad run out of Vancouver by a man named Lo Pan. Right now Lo Pan is sweating a host of felony indictments in the Queen's Courts of Canada, courtesy of the RCMP's Asian Gang and Triad Bureau which I run out of Vancouver."
"What kind of alliance is Corder wanting with this... Lo Pan?" Killian asked.
"Lo Pan has connections with the ChiCom military of mainland China," Qwan explained. "Corder can supply him with hundreds of abducted anglo women from North America and Europe, to be sold as sex slaves and kept within the mainland, where they'd never be heard from again."
"Fuuuuck!" Hacker Queen said.
"Conversely," Qwan continued. "Lo Pan's operatives in mainland China can supply Corder with hundreds of Chinese women --mostly from poor villages in the central regions-- who would be sold as sex slaves in North America and Europe."
"How much would such an operation be worth?" Killian asked.
"Both Lo Pan and Corder could each easily clear... 400 million American dollars a year," Qwan said. "And with most governments either looking the other way, or not even believing such nefarious doings can take place in such an enlightened age, both Corder and Lo Pan can operate with almost none of the risk from say, a drug smuggling operation."
"Sounds like ths Corder has a motive for
wanting you dead, Sempai!" Yukari said.
"Then how come we found Scagnetti's fingerprints all over the two attempts
on my life?" Qwan asked.
"Maybe for the same reason we couldn't find a connection between Scagnetti and the hit on Cundalini and those ten cops killed at the Plaza last night," Killian said. "Maybe Scagnetti did a favor for Corder, so Corder would do a favor for Scagnetti."
"One hand washes another," Qwan nodded. "You do my crime and I do yours."
"Very sneaky," Yukari said.
"You got anything connecting Corder and Scagnetti?" Killian asked the Hacker Queen.
"Just this guy." She pointed to a picture of an older Asian man who had been sneering at the camera. "His name is Kenny Bok Choi. Runs shipping out of Jersey. He's the only crook I could find who knows both Scagnetti and Corder."
"Bok Choy runs freighters out of South Korea, through the Panama Canal and into New York," Killian said. "I remember INS thought they had caught him smuggling in a bunch of Korean illegals a few weeks back, but when the boat docked it was clean."
"He also disappeared last night," Hacker Queen said. "He blew off all his meetings today, including a confab with the longshoreman's union that was very important."
"Okay, that deserves checking into," Killan said. "Anything else?"
"Yeah," Hacker Queen said. "Dinner. I'm fuckin' starving."
"You have nothing in the refrigerator?" Qwan asked.
"A box of baking soda, half a bottle of vodka, and a few cans of Kozy Kitten," Hacker Queen answered. She looked at Killian. "There's a great Thai place half a block down Houston. Hint-hint."
Killian nodded. "I shall return."
After he left, Hacker Queen went to her fridge and got out three ice cold bottles of Kirin beer. She handed a bottle to Qwan and Yukari. The three women twisted the caps off as one.
"Kampai!" Yukari said before slugging down a long swallow.
"This is good," Qwan said, licking her lips. "Hits the spot." She looked again at the Hacker Queen. "What's your name?"
She shrugged. "Everybody just calls me Hacker Queen."
"I'm not everybody," Qwan replied.
She looked at her for a long moment. "Amanda."
"Okay, Amanda." She clicked bottles with her. "Here's to the start of a beautiful friendship."
***
Sue Kaminsky was past the point of begging, or even praying for salvation from the Puma Sisters. She was also past the point of no return.
As a vibrator that was strapped deep into her dripping cunt hummed away, she knealt between the Pumas, licking first one and then the other to delirious orgasm after orgasm. Both sisters were insatiable, and demanded not only hours upon hours of oral worship, but that she also swallow as much of their girljuice as she could.
Finishing up on Ana Puma, Sue licked her lips even as Ana's fresh gush dripped off her face and onto her slick and gleaming breasts. Sue was still tied up with red cord in a stringent variant of Nawa Shibari, with her hands behind her, and loops of tight cord at shoulders, breasts and belly. A leash on a leather dog's collar guided her back over to an impatient Una Puma.
"Ummmmm... what time is it, Una?" Ana whispered as she played with her own casaba-sized titties.
"Time for another gusharoonie," Una replied, pulling Sue's wet, red head between her legs once more. "Get busy, slave!"
Ana sighed and reached over to look at her diamond encrusted Rolex. Her eyes widened. "Holy shit! It's past nine!"
"AM or PM?"
"PM you dumb bitch!" Ana said, smacking her sister on the noggin.
"Ow! So the fuck what, slut?"
"Whore!"
"Skank!"
"Cunt! So we were supposed to meet that asshole Samarkand up in the restaurant around eight!" Ana said
"So? Blow him off." Una giggled. "Or just blow him..."
"No can do, he's playing footsie with both Corder and Weskler." Ana got up and scratched her ass. "And without them, we don't get paid. So haul ass, sister."
"Hol' on..." Una grunted. "Almost... there!"
She gushed into Sue Kaminsky's face.
***
Samarkand sipped gingerly at his Krakatoa Cocktail, a huge and exotic drink served in a large ceramic bowl shaped like a volcano with smoke spouting from the top.
He was in the crowded and darkened bar that was part of the Dynasty Chinese restaurant at 21 Mott Street. He was dressed in a white ice cream suit, black loafers and a black bow tie. He red fez jauntily peaked on his head.
It was also karioake night, and a young Chinese man was warbling 'Love Me Tender', off-key.
"Heeya, Samarkins... long time no see!"
He turned and blinked, thinking for a second that he was so drunk that he was seeing double. But it was only the Puma Sisters, both wearing identical Chinese style cocktail dresses of red silk that were so tight the voluptous duo looked like they had been poured into them.
"Ana.. Una..." Samarkand leered at their breasts straining the red silk. "As beautiful as ever I see..."
The Pumas laughed and guided Samarkand to a quiet booth. He continued to sip at his drink while a waitress slinked up. Ana ordered a Sex on the Beach while Una asked for a double Vodka, neat.
"So what's up, puddytat?" Ana asked.
"First item of business," Samarkand said. "You told Mr. Weskler that you had kidnapped Sue Kaminsky and had her alive and kickin' after the Plaza hit. True?"
"Yuppers!" Una said. "We were gonna sell her to the highest bidder, but now we'll prolly just keep her."
"Keep her?" Samarkand asked. "What for?"
"As a sexslave," Ana said.
"A cuntlapping sextoy," Una said.
"She's already coming along nicely," Ana said.
"Indeed." Samarkand said. "Well, it just so happens that Mr. Weskler would like to purchase Sue Kaminsky from you two. But if..."
"How much?" The Pumas said in stereo.
Samarkand smiled and took out his alligator skin billfold. He removed two crisp bills from it and laid them out on the table.
"You think we're gonna give up Red for a a couple of grand?" Ana snorted.
"Count the zeros," Samarkand advised.
Each of the Pumas snatched up a bill and squinted at them.
"Hey, who the fuck is this Wilson guy?" Una asked.
"Woodrow Wilson was president of the United States during World War I," Samarkand replied. "He's also on the..."
"A hundred thousand dollar
bill!"
Ana gasped. "These for real?"
"Yup. Got 'em out of Weskler's petty cash."
"Nice," Una said, slipping hers into her bulging titty bank. "Gonna have a helluva time getting change tho..."
Then it's a deal?"
"You got her." The Pumas said together.
"Excellent!" Samarkand said in his best Montgomery Burns voice. "Now, next on the agenda... Weskler would like for you two to hunt up of a woman we want, and a missing employee if his."
He took a picture out of his jacket and placed it on the table. "This is Drew Thrasher, a BBC anchorbabe who is nosing too close to Mr. Weskler's business."
He took out another photo.
"And this is Callista Horlicks, a trusted member of Team Weskler. She disappeared this afternoon on the Jersey Turnpike while trying to capture the aforementioned Drew Thrasher. We think she's either dead or captured by associates of Thrasher's. If she's captured, she knows too much and could be an embarrassment to Mr. Weskler..."
"So you want us to kill em both?" Ana asked.
"We would prefer you didn't," Samarkand said. "Afterall, Ms. Horlicks is on our side, and Thrasher has some useful information."
"Awwwwwww fuck," Ana growled. "Nuthin's ever easy."
"Any clues?" Una asked.
"Her driver is a lowlife outta Brooklyn named Tupac Canker. Here's his address in Jamaica Bay. Since neither his body or the company car he was driving has turned up, you might want to shake the tree for him."
"That's it?"
"Nope, we spotted Thrasher being driven off in a silver, '88 Porsche 944. A pretty rare bird these days. We did a check of that make in the tri-state area and came up with a familar name... Fanni Hall."
"Who?" The Pumas asked.
"Fanni Hall," Samarkand said patiently. "She worked the other
end of the skintrade, rescuing damsels for big bucks. She's gotta be pushing
fifty..."
"Thats old!" Una said.
"But she hasn't lost her touch." Samarkand rubbed his leg where she had tranked him earlier that day. "She's a pro and damned dangerous. She has a residence up in Duchess County, but she's too cagey to show there. Here's some pictures and a list of her known associates..."
The Pumas studied the list.
"Ummmm... she has a daughter..." Una said.
"A cute daughter," Ana said.
"Do what you can," Samarkand said. "There's another crisp 'Wilson' in it for you two for each lady you bring back; Thrasher, Horlicks and Hall."
"Consider them captured," Ana said. "What about Fanni Hall's daughter?"
"She's of no interest to Mr. Weskler," Samarkand shrugged. "Just whack her if you want."
"That would a waste of girlflesh," Ana said. "We'll just keep her as our new sextoy."
"Yummy!" Una licked her lips.
"Gotta catch her first," Samarkand said, sucking down the last of his volcanic cocktail. "Now when can I pick up this Kaminsky babe?"
"Right now." Ana and Una stood up. "Drive around back to the alley and wait for us."
Samarkand nodded and tried to extricate himself from the booth. "Again with the waiting... Oy Gevalt."
***
In the alley behind the Dynasty Chinese restaurant, Samarkand waited with Dr. Device and Rivah Santiago.
"I am sooooo hungry!" Ms. Santiago said. "Couldn't you have gotten some takeout whle you were there?"
"Will get something once we get Kaminsky on the plane," Samarkand hissed.
"What does the bossman want with this Kaminsky anyway, Sam?" Dr. DeForrest Vice asked.
"Well, since she's wanted for the murders of those ten cops and that mobster Cundalini, I suspect Mr. Weskler wants to use her as leverage against who really paid the Pumas to do those crimes."
"And who's that?" Dr. Device asked.
"That's on a need to know basis, Doctor," Samarkand said. "And right now you don't need to know.
But Samarkand knew. It was Valerie Corder that Joe Weskler wanted behind the 8-ball. And by convincing Corder to use the Puma Sisters as her hitters, Samarkand had pulled that off nicely.
Now all I have to worry about is Corder finding out, Samarkand thought. And Val Corder didn't take betrayal easy either.
"So these Pumas are going after Thrasher and the Hall woman, huh?" Ms. Santiago asked.
"Yes."
"You tell 'em about that silver goddess thingee that killed Bruizer back at the Pine Barrens?" Dr. De asked.
"I did not." Samarkand rubbed that back of his neck. "Don't worry tho. The Pumas are... augmented humans. They have a few tricks up their sleeves. And here they come!"
Ana and Una Puma came up from basement stairs. Ana carried a leather duffle bag that easily over one shoulder. It was tightly strapped, buckled and padlocked.
"So where is she?" Samarkand asked.
"Right here." Ana dropped the bag by his feet. He placed a hand on the warm leather and felt it shiver and move.
"Ye Gawds!" Samarkand said.
"Toodles..." The Pumas waved bai-bai and went back down the stairs to the basement.
"Ummmm... you wanna... make sure?" Dr. Device asked.
"Nope." Samarkand hefted the squirming leather duffle into the back of Ms. Santiago's Jeep Liberty. "Lets get going... Mr. Weskler is hot to see his new toy."
***
Callista Horlicks hummed into the rubber ball strapped into her mouth with all her might as Fanni Hall entered the room she had been suffering in for so long.
"I know its felt like forever, but it's only been an hour, kiddo," Fanni said. Callista was still tied tight to the wooden horse that bisected her body and kept her weight on her raw cunt. The pulling and grinding against the ropes that held her just added to her pain and torment.
"I told you I'd have something for your nipples." Callista's eyes went wide as Fanni showed her a pair of ceramic butterflies held together by eight inches of slender chain.
Her eyes got even wider as Fanni bent down and licked her right nipple until it perked up. Then Fanni spread the sawtoothed steel biters on the first butterfly and clipped it to that same nipple.
Callista squawled into the gag, crying and wailing for a good five minutes before finally quieting down enough for Fanni to lick her left nipple and snap the second butterfly on.
"UUUUMMPH!!!! AWWWW TAAAHHHMPH!!!" Callista hummed as she sprayed drool, sweat and snot over herself.
"Uh-uh, kiddo," Fanni said, having carefully stepped back to avoid the spray. "Right now you just think you'll talk to me and tell me what I want to hear. But in a just little while, you will be ready. See you then."
Callista wept uncontrollably as Fanni closed and locked the door.
***
Fanni Hall looked at her watch. 9:32 PM. Christ, Jeb wouldn't be arriving at JFK for another two hours at least. then at least an hour for him to find his way here to the cabin.
Fanni poured herself a mug of coffee that had been kept near the fireplace. She fortified it with a jolt of Jack Daniels black label and sipped it.
She could hear rain moving in. Hard drops of water beginning to peck on the roof of her cabin. She loved to be here during a good storm when she could fall asleep to the sound of rain on the roof. So that in the morning everything would be green and fresh.
She put the mug down and walked across the living room to check on her daughter Dani and her new friend, Drew Thrasher.
Fanni opened the door to the bedroom slowly and smiled when she saw her daughter asleep under the covers, while a naked and gagged Drew Thrasher was tied spread eagled to the bed with a pillow under her bottom.
Fanni tip-toed on and put a finger to her lips. Drew nodded as Fanni flicked out her S&W tactical folding knife and sliced through the ropes holding her ankles and wrists.
Dani groaned and burrowed deeper into the covers as Fanni slipped Drew out of the bed and into the living room.
"Thank you, Fanni," Drew said while rubbing her chafed wrists.
"Did you and my daughter have fun?" Fanni asked with a knowing smile.
"She was... quite instructional," Drew replied. "I am not a lesbian, tho..."
"Did she make you do anything you didn't want to do?" Fanni interrupted.
Drew's face blazed. "Truthfully, no."
"As I thought," Fanni replied. She pointed down the hallway. "Bathroom is down there, second door on the right. You can take a hot shower if you like."
Drew smiled. "Thank you! I promise I won't run off."
"I know you won't," Fanni answered. "There's no windows and I'm locking the door." She smiled. "I'll also see if I can find you something to wear..."
***
The hot shower was pure heaven, and went a long ways towards washing away the torments of this day that had started at the Newark airport.
She toweled herself dry and even found a brush to comb back her short bob cut. She once again looked at the small silver pendant of the Hindu Goddess Kali that Shakira had given her and was still about her neck. Funny that such a delicate piece of jewelry would make it through everything she had been through.
The door opened, but Drew didn't throw her towel over her nakedness. After Dani had gotten through with her, she didn't feel very shy.
"Here, found these." Fanni tossed her some clothes. Shorts, a top and some boots. "They've been here awhile, but they're clean."
She shut the door and Drew slipped on the clothes. A red Danskin leotard with a racerback and high neck that outlined the hard nips of her breasts. A pair of leather hot pants circa 1973 that had to be laced up the back. And leather go-go boots that zipped up to her knee.
"I feel like I should be on an episode of CHiPs," Drew said as she exited the bathroom.
Fanni laughed. "I'll have you know those are from my glory days! Saving kidnapped damsels at Studio 54... Dodging slavers at an ABBA concert..."
"The certainly fit well." Drew wiggled in her leather hotpants.
"You fill them out nicely," Fanni said. Perhaps you can be 'Bunzie' from now on"
"Hardly!"
Fanni dangled a pair of handcuffs before Drew.
"I guess I won't be needing these."
"No..." Drew approached her and held her wrists up. "But I'd
appreciate it if you'd hook me up anyway. So I won't be tempted."
Fanni nodded knowingly and clicked the warm steel about Drew's slender wrists, letting her keep her hands in front of her.
"Let's go out on the porch," Fanni said. "We should talk before Jeb gets here."
Drew nodded. "Yes. We should."
The rain was falling even harder, banging against the roof of the cabin. On the covered porch, Fanni sat down in a rocking chair with her fortified coffee. Drew had a mug of the potent stuff as well, holding it with both of her handcuffed hands.
"This rain brings back memories," Fanni Hall said. "Not all of them pleasant."
"How long have you had this place?" Drew asked.
"Forever. Well, since I was a kid," Fanni replied. "My father built this cabin himself after mom passed away. The two of us spent alot of time here."
"Your father's cabin?" Drew's eyes widened. "My God! Is this the cabin where you and Suni Ling took the captured Dawnelle after escaping from Paula and Bertram B. Bertram's goons?"
Fanni wavered her hand. "Feh... Bob Bishop took a few liberties with that story, but he did get the basics right. After I contacted my gal pal Aiesha in New York, I got back here to find Dawnelle --the bitch-- had gotten the better of Suni. Then she tied me up and had me hanging from the rafters til Suni's boyfriend Ian and his MI-6 boyos came bursting in to save the day."
Drew nodded. "And then Aiesha got captured, and then Bertram's son showed up here with some goons..."
"And he got his head blown off. Then Dawnelle was killed. Even 'A. Gorila' bought it that day, the big dumb lug." Fanni shook her head. "Lots of blood that day."
Drew studied her. "As the story goes, you, Suni and your friend Aiesha were ultimately captured and were being tortured by Bertram and his associate Goord when you were rescued by Ian and that Tyler bloke."
"Tyler!" Fanni laughed. "Now he was a character! Even if Geoff Merrick did make him out to be a little more of a hero than the scoundrel he was IRL."
"So what happened to them?" Drew asked.
"Well, Suni married Ian, and their both still doing wetwork for Her Majesty's Secret Service. Tyler still haunts the skintrade. Aiesha got married and has kids. Haven't talked to her in years."
"What about Alissa Bertram? And Madame?"
"Sweet little Alissa --the catalyst for the entire bloody mess-- inherited daddy's millions after his demise. Last I heard, she's in Europe plying the skintrade, with Madame as her toadie."
"How fitting."
"You suprise me, Ms. Thrasher," Fanni said. "A renowned international journalist knowing the details of an obscure series of bondage oriented graphic novels that are long out of print..."
Drew sipped her whisky-laced coffee. "I think I was 17 when I first read of Bishop's 'Fanni Hall'. I didn't rest until I had the entire collection of stories and then I read and re-read them over and over again."
"I guess that makes you my number one fan," Fanni chuckled. "But enough about me. Tell me about this friend of yours... Tai Anne Roper."
Drew sighed.
"I've only known her for three days, but already it seems like a lifetime," Drew said. "I think I fell in love with her the second I saw her. And each time she speaks to me, or comes near me, that love kicks up a notch."
"You were thrown together through some... adversity?" Fanni asked.
"We were kidnapped in San Francisco by an Arab mercenary squad called the Fist of Allah. Then rescued --if you can call it that-- by a couple of slavers named Fiendly and Wenche."
Fanni smiled. "So Dr. Fiendly is still out and about, eh?"
"You know him?" Drew asked.
"We go back aways," Fanni said. "What happened then?"
"Fiendly and Wenche... used us both." Drew shuddered. "Wenche had Tai Anne strait jacketed and was scrambling her brain with electro-shock..."
"Damn," Fanni whispered.
"The Wenche threatened to turn her into a veg if I didn't become Wenche's... slavecunt. I then serviced her. Sexually."
"Been there, done that," Fanni said, remembering her three-month sojurn as Madame's sextoy. "You didn't have much of choice. Not if you wanted to save Tai."
"The Wenche made me dress us as a dominatrix," Drew continued. "She put me in charge of Tai Anne. She became my slave, I became her Mistress."
"And you liked it."
"No, dammit," Drew hissed. "I loved it. And after we were rescued by Jeb... I was afraid of these feelings. So I ran away from them. And Tai. And now Tai is missing and accused of murder."
Silence. The two women sat on the porch for awhile and looked out into the night listening to the rain.
"Fanni?" Drew asked.
"Yeah?"
"Why do you think that Tai Anne Roper is really your daughter?"
"Figured that one out all by yourself, didcha?" Fanni looked at her. "How much do I really resemble her?"
"A lot," Drew said. "Of course you could pass for her older sister. But when you told me that you knew Glenna Jane Roper, I put it all together."
"Okay, here's the story," Fanni began. "Back in the the early eighties when I hit the big three-oh, I got a last twinge of motherly instinct. I wanted to have a child to call my own, but with none of the baggage... like a husband."
"Understandable."
"I was working out of LA in those days, with Bob Bishop haranging me on a daily basis to tell him my stories while he sketched me. Then a friend of my mine --who also had a habit of rescuing damsels-- by the name of Andy Baltimore introduced me to Glenna Jane Roper."
"The plot thickens."
"In those days, Glenna was much more of a gay rights firebrand, trying to prove two women could concieve and raise a child. I told her I was straight... that I just wanted a kid to call my own. So she introduced me to these doctors she was working with up at the University of San Francisco. They had a new procedure they wanted to try out called invitro fertilization."
"And that's how you got pregnant with Dani," Drew said.
"Yuppers. Anonymous donor sperm was used --some Pulitzer prize winner I believe-- and I supplied the eggs. Mix well in a pitre dish, and once fertilized, the embryos were placed within me," Fanni said. "It's as common as dirt today, but twenty years ago this was like freakin' Flash Gordon."
The rain began to slack off.
"So I went back to New York, happily with child. Nine months later, I begat Daniella Hall. My pride and joy. I never heard from or contacted Glenna Jane Roper again."
"Why not?"
"We left on bad terms," Fanni said. "Because at the same time my eggs were dancing in the pitre dish with flying colors, Glenna Jane found out she was infertile."
"But what about her better half?" Drew asked. "Yoshiko Roper could still give her eggs."
"That would've violated the historic parameters of The Great Lesbian Family Experiment," Fanni said. "Remember, you said it consisted of eggs from both women, matched so that the resulting offspring would be an exact match for the proud parents."
"Yes," Drew said. "Right down to ethnicity... Tai is half Japanese, and half Greek-Italian."
"And I'm Greek-Italian," Fanni shrugged. "Well, mostly. There might be the odd German hiding in the branches of my family tree, but you get the drift."
"Oof. There's a coincidence."
"I suspect now that I was recruited by my good friend Andy Baltimore, who for a sizeable fee, steered me to Glenna Jane," Fanni said. "And that Glenna Jane's doctors then kept my eggs that weren't used, fertilized them with the sperm from the Japanese donors --just to keep the mix right-- and implanted them into Glenna Jane Roper."
"So you have another daughter," Drew said. "Congratulations."
"Thanks," Fanni said. "And what this means for now is that I can't just walk out on this mess once Jeb arrives. I'm part of this now. It's... family."
"And what about Dani?" Drew asked.
"She has a half sister she's never met, who's accused of murder and may already be dead," Fanni Hall replied. "How the hell do I tell her that?"
Drew didn't answer. The two women just sat on the porch in their rocking chairs while Dani Hall carefully sneaked away from the open bedroom window next to the fluttering curtains and went back to her bed.
I have a sister! Dani thought. The fact she had never met her or five minutes ago didn't even know she existed was beside the point.
I just wonder where she is right this moment...
***
Tai Anne Roper slowly came out from the effects of the trank dart to realize that once again she was under heavy restraint.
As her mind tried to backtrack where she had been last, she carefully tried pulling and flexing in her bondage.
First, she was blindered and gagged. It felt like a heavy latex strap across her upper face with soft pads at the eyes. The gag felt like another latex strap that held in a massive rubber ball that tasted like it was brand new. In her lifetime, Tai had become quite a connoissuer of rubber balls designed to fill her mouth.
Working down, she realized she was in a strait jacket of sorts. Her arms in front and hugging herself tightly with the sleeves buckled behind her back. There was also some corsetry involved since she could barely breath and her waist was forcibly compacted, with her breasts full and bursting over her bound arms.
Her legs were in some kind of single legged, hobble skirt that went to the ankles. Tai flexed her feet and felt straps at toes, ankles, above and below the knees and at the hips. Talk about overkill! Jiminy Crickets!
The hobble skirt and straitjacket had the scent and feel of heavy leather, as did the straps. There was also a very high posture collar around her neck to keep her head immobile, and the strait jacket seemed to be anchored by a way too tight crotch strap that held in a way too large rubber dildo deep in her cunt. There was also an anal plug, filling and stretching a place that shouldn't be filled or stretched.
Lastly, she seemed to be strapped down into a comfortable, cushioned seat. Factor in the loud hum of jet engines and that her ears were trying to pop, and Tai came to the conclusion that she was currently aboard a private jet --since the major commercial carriers frowned on restrained and gagged girls as passengers-- bound for God knows where.
Her memories finally clicked in. She now remembered Matt McClintock's yacht. Finding McC's dead body. Grabbing the convieniently placed murder weapon up and using it to shoot Will Tanner-Hyde...
Tai blinked as the blinder was unbuckled and taken off her head. She was indeed in the small, luxurious cabin of a private jet --prolly a Lear or Gulfstream-- staring at a smiling Will Tanner-Hyde.
His face was as handsome and as cruel as before. He wore an impeccably cut, three-piece suit. He got up from the seat across from her.
"I'll remove your gag if your promise not to get excitable," he said with a patronizing smile. "Deal?"
Tai couldn't even nod with the posture collar in place so she blinked rapidly. Tanner-Hyde then unstrapped the ballgag and pulled the massive sphere from her mouth with a hollow pop.
"There we go!" Tanner-Hyde said gallantly. "That trank has a tendency to give slavegirls dry mouth. Would you like a drink?"
"Yeth," Tai croaked.
"Yeth, what?" he chuckled.
Tai swallowed and licked her lips. "Yes... you motherfucker cocksuck-ah."
Tanner-Hyde's face went to a purplish hue of rage before he turned and brought forth a small green bottle of chilled Perrier and placed it to her lips. Tai sucked it down in almost one swallow.
"You should attempt to be grateful when someone does a kindess for you," Tanner-Hyde said. "Especially since you will be an enslaved fucktoy for the rest of your life."
"Ah," Tai said. "Like your Mother."
Tanner-Hyde laughed this time as he sat down opposite her. "What a mouth you have, Tai Anne! To bad you won't have time for such witty bon mots in the future, as you'll be spending your days --and nights-- on your knees, sucking cocks. Like a good girl."
Tai Anne Roper stared at him for a long hard moment. "Let me know when your done crowing, Tanner-Hyde. I have a little trick I want to show you."
"Really? I look forward to that!" He chuckled as a stewardress in a tight, little white minidress slinked down the aisle with a glass of whisky in a crystal glass. He took it and slapped the stewardress on the ass as she turned to walk away.
"I wanted to have a talk with you, Tai Anne," Tanner-Hyde said, taking a sip. "Before you disappear forever."
"Fine," Tai said. "Start by telling me why you killed your boss, Matt McClintock."
Tanner-Hyde chuckled. "He was never really my employer. I have always worked for Joseph Weskler, who has an intense interest in Jessica McClintock, and the restorative powers of her blood."
He swirled the glass of whisky in his hand. "Naturally when she fled her own father, and went in search of a new identity, I needed someone to... stir the soup, so to speak. That's when I convinced McClintock to hire you to help find his daughter."
He smiled at Tai. "You were magnificent, by the way! A real loose cannon rolling about the deck! It was through you I discovered that Jessica was being held at The Brickyard by Paige Torne." He smiled wistfully. "I almost had her."
"But you lost her too," Tai said.
"Yes... while everybody was reacting to the Grand Opera you were putting on with those unforunate Fist of Allah chaps, Dr. Fiendly danced in and snatched Jessica away from all of us, and just gave her to her own mother!" Tanner-Hyde said.
"Oopsy."
"Well, never fear," Tanner-Hyde said. "This complicates things, but we are moving on to the next stage."
"Which is?"
"Simple, capture and interrogate all those who have knowledge of Jessica, including you and your new girlfriend Drew Thasher," Tanner-Hyde said. "Also, capture all those who have enjoyed a blood transfusion from Jessica so that they can be studied. So far we have accquired Paige's amazon, Kunta Kintare. Next on the agenda is your friend Iwana Binder."
"You're gonna mix it up with Iwana?" Tai laughed. "Jimney Crickets! Are you in for a big surprise!"
"Of course. we had to get rid of Matt MaClintock. And you had worn out your welcome as well. So I took care of two birds by killing McClintock and getting you blamed for it. Quite brillant, if I must say so myself." Tanner-Hyde studied her. "By the by, I was impressed when you managed those pot shots at me after you'd been tranked. First time I've been shot in ages!"
"Mmmm... Body armor I presume?"
"Just so."
"Next time I'll go for the head shot," Tai promised.
"Sorry, ducks. No 'next time' for you."
"You're forgetting something, britboy," Tai said. "I do have friends. They'll be looking for me. And you."
"Well, bring them on, I say!" Tanner-Hyde replied. "I already have an assassin lined up to kill Paige Torne. Not to mention Fiendly and his tiresome Wenche. Meanwhile, your protector, Jeb Stuart is on his way to New York, where he will be 'taken out' with Ms. Thrasher!" He finished his drink. "Anything else you wish to say?"
"Yeah," Tai spoke calmly. "I am going to get out of this. And the next time I see you, I will kill you."
He laughed. "Really?"
"Really."
"Well, Good Lord, I'm trembling in my shoes already! Perhaps I had better replace your gag and blinders for the duration of your journey."
"Wait," Tai said as he started towards her. "Don't you want to see that trick I was going to show you?"
"Oh my, yes!" He sat back down in his seat facing her. "Please go on!"
"Okeeee," Tai said. "This is a trick my grrrl Iwana taught me. A little something we Americans call... hocking a loogie!"
"Hocking a what?" A beat later, Tai made a gargling sound and spat a big wad of phlegm right into Will Tanner-Hyde's face, catching him right between the eyes.
"You bitch!!!" an enraged Tanner-Hyde slapped Tai across the face before stuffing the rubber ball back into her mouth, strapping it in tight and then buckling her blinders back over her eyes.
What really irritated him was that Tai Anne
Roper seemed to be laughing at him even after she had been gagged and
blindered.
***