Rough Diamond
by Ernest Bywater
All rights reserved © 2009
This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events
portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance
to real people or incidents is purely coincidental. All rights
reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or
portions thereof in any form.
Product names, brands, and other trademarks referred
to within this book are the property of their respective
trademark holders. Unless otherwise specified, no
association between the author and any trademark
holder is expressed or implied. Nor does it express any
endorsement by them, or of them. Use of a term in this
book should not be regarded as affecting the validity of
any trademark, service mark, or registered trademark.
Cover Art
The background image is from the www.lulu.com cover
art page. Manipulation and text by Ernest Bywater.
All rights to the images are reserved by their owners.
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Table of Contents
News
The Family
Another Skill
The USA
School
First Trouble
Life Goes On
More Trouble
Interesting Times
Time Away to Play
Back to School
Summer Break
Real Trouble
More Real Trouble
Pure Cadi
Santa Fe: Fellows
Langley, Virginia
Black in Santa Fe
Reunion and Revelations
Quinn, Washington, DC
Life Goes On
Big Trouble
Dave at the Mall
Peg at Home
Las Vegas
Quinn Again
Heavy Bets in Vegas
Quinn in DC
Anian's Analysis
Take it to the Limit
Spreading the Secret
Committee Carnage
The Game's Afoot
Trip Home
Getting on with Life
They Won't Give Up
A Few Weekend Trips
Brilliant Bronwyn
Magnificent Mary
Anian Assault
Family Matters
Monday Mayhem
Living Life
Headings are centred -
a chapter,
a sub-chapter,
a section.
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There are times in my life I wish my parents were in a different line of work. They're both well regarded professors in great demand by the universities and of the very rare type who can do innovative research while teaching well, because their post graduate students all do great work with them as mentors. This is good news for when my sisters or I reach university, and great news for their students; but often bad news for us kids right now, because they get frequent offers of jobs at other universities. We don't move often, because they're choosy about which ones they accept. Money isn't their major consideration and they do try to stay at the one university for a reasonable length of time, as they don't like to have our schooling being disrupted too much. Even so, I've been to three schools so far, and now look like making that four schools.
I suppose I shouldn't complain too much, since we'll get to finish the current school year before we go; unlike our last move to New South Wales from Queensland in November, just before the end of the school year - which matches the calendar year in Australia. We left Queensland just before the end of year exams, to arrive in New South Wales for the exams on a different syllabus. Despite us all being very smart, the new school administration refused to put any of us in the new grade since we couldn't pass their end of year exams for the grade just done.
We failed most of the subjects in the exams they gave us because of the differences in the syllabus. Maths and English were OK, but I'd studied Deserts as the main area for Climates, and New South Wales was testing on Rain Forests - which I hadn't done yet; the same with all the other subjects - Europe instead of Africa, etc. Thus we're forced to repeat the year, grrr. It wasn't so bad since we didn't know anyone and would be making new friends in whatever grade we're put in, but it's annoying because we'd all been ahead of our age groups and enjoyed the company of the one year older students much more than our age peers' company.
Both my sisters and I were born in November and our parents put us into school as soon as possible. It meant we were months younger than most of those in the same year; most kids born in the later third of the year usually don't enter school with the other kids born in the same year, but go the next year. When we moved from Queensland to New South Wales I did Year Six, Cadi did Year Three, and Bron did Year Five; the ones we'd just finished up North as top of the class in the most advanced classes. To say we weren't happy about the situation is an extreme understatement.
Although this shift will have us leaving after we do the end of year exams, the bad news is this shift is to the University of New Mexico in Albuquerque, New Mexico, USA. Since their school system is July to June we'll be arriving there in the middle of their school year. At the moment it looks like we'll be starting in the same school years we'll be finishing here and repeating half the year. Dad is looking into us doing some home schooling with tutors for a few months, to bring us up to date with the differences in the syllabus.
We'll manage somehow, we always do. But we're going from a city of fifty-five thousand people to one of around six hundred thousand people. That's going to take a lot of getting used to for us, but it'll be an interesting time while we do settle in there, and afterwards.
I suppose I should tell you about us, we're the Evans family. Mum is dual nationality, American and Australian. She was born in the USA while her US born mum visited her family in San Diego, California and her dad was an Australian. So she has two passports, neat. They named Mum Ruby, and she's a real gem. Her parents returned to Longreach, Queensland to run the family property because he was the only son and his sisters left the area to live with their husbands on their farms. Mum has three younger brothers, two run the property now their parents are dead. Dad was born in Wales in the United Kingdom, his father migrated out here when Dad was nine years old. He has two passports too, British and Australian. Dafydd 'Dave' Evans is his name and he has a very strong affinity with Wales; his name means beloved.
When us kids came along Dad insisted on Welsh names and Mum insisted on names related to jewels, which explains why I'm named Anian Cartier Evans; Anian means nature, temperament, power. And why my eldest sister is named Bronwyn Tiffany Evans, Bron for short; Bronwyn means white breasted, I get plenty of laughs over it - and lots of bruises from her for laughing. My other sister got lucky, she's Cadi Ruby Evans; Cadi means pure. Mum and Dad couldn't agree on the name of another major jeweller, so they went for a gem and used Mum's name to keep it simple. With my initials I usually get Ace or Card as nicknames, but I use Diamond as my nickname on the Internet.
All of us know Taekwondo because one of Mum's brothers is a sensei and he teaches us at his dojo for free, Uncle Rob moved with us to NSW. We haven't done any formal recognition of our skills, but he tells us we all rate as black belt standard and I'm the best of us kids. All of us are about a hand's width over average height for our ages, slim, well-muscled and fit, what Uncle Rob calls 'all wiry muscle.' We play various sports and like to run and swim. Mum is a brunette and the rest of us have dirty blond hair like Dad's. We're all of average looks. Mum and the girls have nice sized breasts - about the size of oranges.
One area where we do differ is both Mum and Dad have IQs in the 170s while Cadi and Bron are in the high 180s, but mine is 203. I'm a member of Mensa Australia and the Prometheus Society, joining both at fifteen. I keep my IQ a secret from the government. I avoided doing the usual state IQ tests by not turning up at school on the day they ran them. I realised, early on, I was smarter than average, and being a very high IQ can see you pressured to push ahead too much. Also, too many prodigies burn out far too quick. But more important, they don't have a real childhood and I intend to enjoy mine. This is why I keep my IQ secret from the departments of education, and my sisters have done the same for similar reasons; they asked me why I did it, and agreed with me when I told them why. Due to our IQs and martial arts training all three of us kids are very self-confident in our dealings with others. We're not brash, nor are we shy or reticent in any way.
One thing that's odd about our family is Dad and us kids are all very good about sensing how other people feel about things, sensing their emotions when they're strong. Mum explained it's a form of empathy; we're very good at it, and have been all our lives.
I also do one thing none of us have been able to explain. I'll be doing something, usually reading a book, and put a drink or plate of food down near me. When I reach for it again my hand goes straight to it without me looking for it, even if one of my sisters shifts it on me. Mum and Dad test me with a newspaper and blind moving of the drink, but my hand always goes straight to the drink. If they shift it from the left to the right I'll change hands and get it with the nearest hand. Also, just before my fifteenth birthday I had an interesting incident I think is related. I'd put down a text book while studying, and thirty minutes later I reach for it to compare text with another book. It's real interesting because I moved across the floor while reading and the text book I want is a metre and a half away. After I reach out my hand for it I remember the distance and I turn towards it, to see the book sliding across the floor to me; I'm a bit shocked. I experiment, and soon find I can cause anything up to about twenty kilograms, about forty-five pounds, to come to me by simply thinking for it to do so. I soon realise I'm telekinetic, and decide to keep it a secret too. I name this skill Calling , to disguise it from everyone else.
Since learning of my Calling skill I've done a lot of secret testing and can now move sixty kilograms, about a hundred and thirty pounds, with ease. A year after learning about Calling I get another shock which starts a second testing program I really like and enjoy a lot.
We're out shopping on a Saturday morning when Mum tells me to keep an eye on my sisters while they try on some new clothes, and to pay for them when finished. She gives me her purse after taking out her credit card and driver's licence. Nothing new in this because she often parks me to look after the girls while she does something else instead of waiting around for them. She often says I'm their protector. But this is the first time she does this to me in a lingerie store. I'm standing near the change rooms with Mum's purse slung over my shoulder while my sisters are about a metre away looking at very skimpy underwear. They realise I'm a bit embarrassed by this and take lots of time with their selections, even holding some choice items up and asking my opinion. They stop that when I say, “Look, Cadi, if you want my opinion on how that bra looks on you, you'll have to put it on and show me.” I was correct in thinking neither of my sisters are going to do that, not at thirteen and fifteen years old. Being sixteen I'm interested in the differences between guys and girls, so when a very lovely young lady about twenty years old picks out a few very skimpy outfits and heads for the change rooms you can bet I'm very much aware of her actions. Especially when she sees me standing there with the purse and my sisters nearby. She smiles and winks at me while she holds up her choices of skimpy underwear for my inspection.
The change rooms have short doors that only cover from knees to neck on an adult, and I'm leaning on the corner of the entryway to the four rooms. While she passes me I smile back, and think, 'Damn, I'd love to be able to look over the door and watch her without her screaming;' I lean back and close my eyes to imagine what it'd look like if I did look over the door. Next thing I know I've a very realistic image in my mind of her while she turns the lock on the door. She hangs up the underwear and undoes her dress before slipping it off to reveal her current underwear.
I smile while I think my imagination is improving in quality of image as I watch her remove her bra and panties to try on the new ones. She puts her dress on and walks out to see how they fit while moving. Now this is all well and good, but I get one hell of a shock when she brushes my shoulder just when I'm imagining her doing so. This makes me open my eyes and watch her take a few paces. When she turns I smile, and ask, “Trying the see-through set or the white lace first?” In my imagination I'd seen her put on the see-through set.
She laughs, and says, “The see-through set. How's it look?”
“Very good, so far. But for a more definitive answer you'd have to show me what it looks like without the dress.” She giggles then she goes to the change room. Both my sisters shake their heads while looking at me. I close my eyes and think to follow her in my mind. I watch while she enters the change room, strips, and puts on the white lace set. With a cheeky grin she starts to walk out in just the underwear.
Having a crazy thought I open my eyes and turn to look down the short hall between the change rooms. Just in time to see her step into the hall in only the white lace underwear. She winks when she sees me watching her. I hold my hand up and make like I'm stirring with my finger. Her grin widens when she turns around, then bends a little. I smile, and say, “Very nice. Whoever you're trying to impress with that outfit will be putty in your hands.” She grins and bows, before going back into the change room.
I lean against the wall while I think on what just happened. Both Cadi and Bron pass me on their way to the two rear rooms, and leave the doors open so they can talk while showing each other what they look like, as usual. They make a point of telling me to stay where I am and not let any males in the hall. I promise not to move.
The woman walks out and we exchange another round of smiles as she pays for her clothes, and then she leaves. I close my eyes and picture myself in the corner of Bron's change room. In a moment I see her taking her bra off while Cadi does the same in the room across the hall, a very nice view. The way they keep turning and their mouths moving makes it clear they're talking, and I can just hear a very low murmur coming up the hall. I think, 'I sure wish I can hear what they're saying.'
Suddenly I can hear Bron say, “Can you believe Ani flirting with that girl from the university. Way out of his league and age. But she was nice, and didn't seem to mind.” Cadi nods and replies. I smile and I enjoy the view while they change and model a few outfits for each other while they chat about me and the young lady. I stay there, thinking about the possibilities of what just happened, unless it's all a dream.
Several minutes later they walk out and I pay for the clothes they want, three sets of underwear each. After paying I drop Mum's wallet back in her purse. I swing the strap over my shoulder and we head out.
Just as we leave some girls from school walk in, and giggle about me having Mum's purse over my shoulder. What makes it real bad is both Mum and I dressed in dark tan today, so it goes with my outfit as well as hers. One of the girls, Jan, wiggles her hips and cocks a limp wrist at me, while she says, “Oh, look girls, he's out shopping with his handbag today.”
Playing up to her I sashay over and give her a very light slap on the hand, while I say, with a lisp added, “Oooh, you're so nasty and naughty.” While the rest laugh I'm quick to slip one hand behind her back and pull her to me to kiss her. She's so surprised her mouth is still open when our lips meet. I take the opportunity of her distraction to slip my tongue in her mouth and start a deep probing operation while slipping my hand under her short skirt and inside her panties. I feel her up real good while I kiss her.
My sisters are laughing real hard, the other girls are in shock. She's still stunned when I let her go and withdraw my hand. Because Jan is leading the pack none of the others saw me feel her up. I smile at her, when I say, “Enjoy your shopping, or do you want me to help you choose items and adjust the fit for you?”
She shakes her head no, and she's very quick to move further into the store with her friends following her while we leave. Bron and Cadi are almost wetting themselves laughing at the encounter, because I just put down the biggest put down artist in the school. Jan's family are very rich and she has quite a few airs. We can't understand why she goes to our school at all. With her family's money we expect her to be going to one of the very top boarding schools, not a local church school. Oh well, not our worry.
Bron turns to me, “Ani, what's gotten into you? First you flirt with a woman four or five years older, then you grab Jan to kiss her and feel her up. Yes, I saw where your hand went, but I don't think anyone else did.” Cadi gasps about me feeling Jan up, and laughs harder.
“I don't know, Bron. The woman smiled and winked at me when she went in to change, so I flirted with her. As for Jan, she really pissed me off just then, so I grabbed her to kiss her and put her in her place. When I found her mouth was open I tickled her tonsils and decided to cop a good feel at the same time. She hardly responded at all.”
Cadi says, “I'm not surprised. According to her sister, Jan is a dead set lesbian and guys do nothing for her at all.”
“Well, that's a first for me. I just kissed and felt up a lesbian.” We're still laughing about this some minutes later when we catch up with Mum when we near the food court for a bite to eat. Naturally we have to tell her what's so funny while I hand her back her purse. She has a good laugh about it, too.
During the following months I practice all my new skills in secret. I find it very interesting to listen in on the girls gossiping when they get changed for PE or sport, before and after - especially in the showers after. I do a lot of practice at home of an evening by creating a point of view and then moving it. It was frightening the first time I moved it through a wall. I soon found out I can do that, but I do need some light to see by, I can't see what's in any solid material, closed cupboards, or darkened rooms.
By moving my third eye, as I call it, I can look at things up to about two hundred and fifty metres away. The house blocks in the estate we live in are all twenty-five metres wide and I can see into the house ten buildings away, but not quite into the next one after that. So within a fortnight of practising I've enjoyed watching all the women and girls in the neighbourhood getting changed and having baths. Though I'm surprised at how often they masturbate, and how some do it. I do pick up plenty of pointers on how to please a girl by watching them.
I also listen to anyone I'm watching, but I can't concentrate enough to watch someone properly if my eyes are open at the same time, a great pity. However, I'm very happy with what I can do, and enjoy using both skills over the year before we move to the USA.
Mum and Dad decide it isn't worth taking most of our gear to the USA, so what little we want to keep is shipped to the family farm in Longreach. The rest is sold or given away to friends or organisations to help the poor. We keep just enough clothes to see us through until we get settled in our new home in the USA, and we'll buy more once we get there. The university is providing us with a furnished four bedroom house with two studies to live in, so we don't need to take any furniture with us.
We spend Christmas at Longreach and New Year in Los Angeles, arriving in Albuquerque, New Mexico the week before school restarts. The first day is spent shopping for clothes and things. Mum is happily surprised when I offer to look after Bron and Cadi clothes shopping in the teen fashion stores while she shops for her and Dad elsewhere in the large shopping centre we're at.
I don't mind being a pack mule for my sisters now; do you have any idea on how many good looking teen girls are in those stores while they try on various tops, shorts, skirts, and underwear. And I'm just leaning on the wall watching all that lovely scenery when they change. After we get half a car load of clothes for the girls they insist on seeing I'm properly dressed as well. I'd been hoping to do a quick clothes run through a cheap market. But they soon put a stop to that, and we end up in the boys fashion section of a major department store while they play dress up the ' Ani boy doll ' with me.
I won't say the females in our family went crazy clothes shopping, but when we get to the car with it all their eyes are a little glazed over. The car is full before we try to get in, so I unload it and give it all a close examination. Shoes, purses, and the other things we shouldn't crush, because they need to lie flat, are stacked in the car's trunk and the rear passenger foot-wells, with great care. The better dresses and tops are laid over the stuff in the trunk until it's full, then over the stuff in the foot-wells. The rest is laid down, layer by layer, on the back seat and the foot-well until it's all in. It's now packed to a height level with the top of the front bench seat. After shutting the rear doors I sit in the front and take my shoes off. I'm careful when I climb over the seat, I lie on the stuff on the back seat and tell Mum and the girls to sit in the front seat while I shift a couple of things over my body to cover it and make it seem like there's only clothes in the back. Laughing, they climb in and we drive home. I've a nice nap while we do.
The rest of the day is spent packing everything away, and the ladies putting on a fashion show for each other while Dad and I rearrange some of the furniture to how we, as a family, want it placed.
The next few days are spent getting to know the neighbourhood, the city, and our close neighbours. They're nice folks, but most of the area is university owned housing rented to university staff with families at a low rate, and few have kids in their mid-teens. We do get to know the several in our age bracket, which will help when we get to school since we'll all be going to the same school and they'll show us around.
Bron and I see about getting our driver's licences, much to Bron's delight, because she wouldn't be old enough for one at home. She can get a Restricted Licence after six months, while I can get a Full Licence. At home I'd still have a restricted 'P' Plate licence. Cadi is happy since she can start Driver's Education soon and get a Learner's Permit before long. So there are some advantages for us to be in the US. Dad is so confident we'll pass he's already looking for a car for us to drive to school in.
The first few days at school are a bit up and down because we can't be put in classes until after we're assessed. So we spend a week doing exams or sitting in the library reading up on the subjects we've not done before, like US History. By the end of the week they've got us all placed in the advanced classes for most subjects and we've some time each day for individual tutoring on our knowledge gaps. The staff and tutors are sure we'll be up to speed by the end of year exams.
Although we're all repeating half a year, again, most of it's different material; so we're happy to learn something new, despite having to do another six months of a year of schooling we just finished. I'm in Year Ten with Bron in Year Nine and Cadi in Year Seven. We do get some ragging over our accents and our names, but only for a little while.
In the first week the school bullies try to push me around, but get a surprise when they find they can't grab me. Instead of fighting I use my martial arts training to avoid their attempts at contact. Eventually they give up on trying to bully me.
Many of the other students aren't sure about what school cliques we should be in since we all join some of the nerdy after school groups like the Science Club, but also join some of the sports teams. The three of us join the school swim team and basketball team appropriate for our year and gender. Also the girls join the gymnastics team. Due to my skill at dodging the bullies and on the basketball court I'm asked to join the football team - several times. When the requests get too insistent I check with the school counsellor, and I sign up for the soccer team because its schedule clashes with the football team. In the US football is what we Aussies call Gridiron, not Soccer or Rugby or Aussie Rules. The next time one of the football jocks pulls me up to tell me to join the team, I say, “I've already signed up for football.”
He says, “Idiot, you signed up for the Soccer Team, not football.”
“Look, mate, where I come from football means Soccer or Rugby. No Rugby here, so I signed up for Soccer. If you meant for me to join some other sport, you should have identified it better. I'm part of the Soccer Team now, and already doing more than enough sports.” That ends their attempts to get me to be a running back, I don't want to do that because I've seen how hard they get hit.
The two subjects we've tutors for are US History, and Civics and Government. Since we all know nothing about these we start at the same point for these tutoring lessons and work on them together. With the three of us working very hard to get up to speed we race through the subject material. No need for constant repetitions, as is the case in class, and we even do all the in-class assignments the students do in each year. When we reach the syllabus point where Cadi is in both she leaves us to join the regular classes in those subjects for her year, the same happens when Bron reaches her current class point. The students get one period a week of each, we get a bit more because two of our free study periods are given up to this, and a third of our choice for our other free study period too. The tutors are amazed at how quick we go through the courses. It takes only two weeks to get Cadi up to date, another two weeks for Bron, and by the seventh week at the school I'm up to date and headed back to the normal classes for all subjects. We'd been studying the text books before we left Australia.
We keep up with our Taekwondo by practising with each other.
It doesn't take us long to settle in and get used to most of the school life and local social life. The hard part is the school dating system, it seems every guy my age has to have a steady girlfriend and I don't know any of the girls, while many are already involved with someone.
While we're catching up on the subjects we don't have much time for socialising. But during my last week of tutoring I'm close enough I can start spending some free study periods as real free study periods.
There are two girls in all my classes that no one goes near. They're identical twins, reasonably good looking and with nice figures. Some people are put off by the loose clothes and large unfashionable glasses they wear. The few times I've speak with them they seem nice, so I can't work out why the rest are shunning them. I ask one of the other boys from the Science Club about them, and he says, “They're not bad to look at, but they're sure-fire status death. They've got put downs that'll knock a plane out of the stratosphere. And you'll never recover from being put down by them. They're uncool, very uncool.”
Having been duly warned, I approach them at lunch. Walking up to the table they sit at in the back corner I just put my tray down and sit opposite them. One looks up, and says, “It's rude to sit down without asking permission first.”
I smile at her, and say, “And it would've been ruder still to sit down after you said no. So I took the option with the lower level of rudeness, because I intend to sit here and talk to you two.” They look at each other and a few facial muscles twitch before they turn to stare at me. “I'm fully aware of being with you is death to my status in the school, and I don't care. We all have to put in a major assignment project for US History and for Civics and Government. The requirements are for teams of three or four. Everyone else is in a team, except you two and me. We make our own team and do a ripper project to get an A plus or double plus in both subjects. What do you say?”
After more face twitching one asks, “I hope you've a project idea in mind, because we don't.”
“Both are looking at the lead up to, and the start of, the War Between the States. So let's do a major project that goes into fine detail on the political activities for ten years, starting eight years before it started. We also include a full analysis of the governmental actions and how the politics and actions were shaped by the economics of the period. That should do for both subjects.” They both smile, and nod. “Good, that gives us a very good reason to spend a lot of time together at both our houses, so I'll have plenty of opportunity to seduce you both and talk you both into being my girlfriends.” This surprises them, they look at each other, and laugh - very hard.
After a moment, one says, “OK, you get your chance. But by the end of the project you have to be able to identify us and call us both by our right names - all the time. Do that, and you've got two lovers.”
I smile, “Let me get this straight. If I can correctly identify you both on sight you'll both go steady with me and be my lovers, and that includes sex?” Both nod, and give me knowing smiles - it's as if they already know I can't do it. “Are you on the pill?” They nod. I point at the one on the left, “Mary,” switch to point at her sister, “Peg, and I'll do the same again tomorrow because I already know how to tell you apart.” They both look very shocked.
Mary says, “Well, you got us right today. But we'll see tomorrow. Meet you in the library during Free Study, with some notes and a basic layout of what you see as the project. We can then sort out who'll do what part.” I nod. Having finished the food while we talked I stand and leave them to chat.
Stopping at the table where a few of the Science Club members are sitting, I say, “Mary and Peg aren't that unapproachable if you smile and speak nice. I think I'll make them both my girlfriends.” They stare open mouthed while I dump my rubbish, put the tray in the returns stack, and leave. Due to my lunch encounter I'm the centre of a lot of gossip in the classes for the rest of the day.
Every time we meet I correctly identify the girls, and upset them by doing so. I don't tell them, but their earlobes are a little different. We soon start work on our joint project and going out as a triad.
Just after school on the Wednesday of our tenth week I'm leaving school when I see a few of the football players from Year Ten blocking Bron's path and not letting her pass by. I walk up, and say, “Hi, Sis, any problems?”
One of the players butts in, with, “Move along, nerdy, we're just making sure this girl doesn't go anywhere until after she agrees to go to our party on Friday night.”
Bron says, “I've told you four times, I'm not going to any party with any of you this Friday, or any other day, ever. Now move aside and let me go.” Bron tries very hard to avoid confrontations and fights.
One of them reaches out and grabs her arm. I immediately grab his thumb and apply pressure to make him let go. He gives a squeal and pulls his hand back.
Turning to me with a menacing look, he says, “OK, shit for brains, that hurt. So I'm going to really hurt you.” Both Bron and I step back a couple of paces to give him time to rethink his behaviour.
I look about, and see one of the parents watching us real close while she holds the door open for some kids from Years Seven and Eight to get in the car. I touch Bron's arm and hand her my bag. She takes it and backs up another four steps while I move back two more steps to be a barrier between them and Bron. I see the woman tell something to the kids in the car when she shuts the door. She reaches in the car front window and takes something out of the glove box while the goon in front of me produces a knife and the others reach into their pockets, too.
When he steps forward he waves the knife and tells me what he intends to do, I wave Bron back to give me more room and get set for him.
The woman is about halfway to us, and I can see a gun in one hand and a small wallet in the other. I think she intends to help, but I know I'll need to deal with this first idiot because she's still too far away.
The goon swipes the blade across in front of him, going from his right to left, an obvious attempt to cut my stomach a bit. I don't know what sort of people he's fought to make him think such a move would be any good. Instead of jumping back, which is most people's first reaction to such a swipe, I move to my left to avoid it, then step forward with my left foot while I turn the right side of my body a little away and bring my right hand up and across. The knife slices air just a hand's breadth clear of me while my right hand passes over his right hand. I move my arm down and grab his right hand at the wrist with my right hand, pulling him forward and a little to my right. This pulls him off balance. When his arm reaches full extension, and just before he moves his feet to stop from falling on his face, I slice my left arm up and forward very fast to hit his right arm very hard right at the top, just at the shoulder joint while still on the arm. He screams beautifully when my strike punches the arm joint out of the socket. I transfer my weight to my left foot to bring my right foot through and kick him hard in the thigh. This causes another scream and he drops down, twisting the arm and forcing it further out of the socket. Twisting the arm further I cause the hand to open and the knife to drop out. As soon as the knife falls free I let go of him and kick the knife out of reach. The whole thing is over so quick the others still have their hands in their pockets.
From a few metres away, the woman shouts, “Police. Barnes, you're under arrest for assault with a deadly weapon. If I see anyone waving a knife around they'll get arrested too. Nice disarm, son. Miss, will you run inside and ask the staff to call the station for a car, please?” Bron nods, and dashes off.
A few minutes later Principal Jensen returns with Bron, followed soon after by a police car and ambulance pulling up in the car park.
The paramedics check the goon over and take him away, with a police officer in the ambulance to keep an eye on him. The other officer takes statements from the other goons, Bron, the woman, and myself. I'm last. The officer taking the statements, says, “Funny how these things go. The other two boys say you attacked them. Your sister and you say they were harassing her and then attacked you. Officer Mills says she heard voices and saw you and your sister backing up when the other three advanced on you and saw Barnes draw a knife while she was coming over to see what the trouble was, and you neatly disarm him, almost removing his arm in the process. I think we'll believe Officer Mills and your sister on this. Watch out for yourself, those boys are known to hold grudges and do some real damage to people.” I thank him and we go to where Cadi is waiting for us. We've missed our bus, so I use my cell phone to call us a taxi to go home because I don't feel like waiting for the next bus.
Barnes is in hospital for some weeks, and out of football for the rest of the year because the doctors say they won't pass his shoulder as fit to play for several months. The football team is upset at losing one of their best linebackers, whatever that is. When Barnes is let out of hospital he goes to court for a preliminary hearing, and is still limping. His whole thigh came up in a big bruise in the days following the incident.
A few weeks later the case goes to court for a full hearing where he's found guilty of various charges, fined, put on a good behaviour bond, and sentenced to one hundred hours community service. He also cops a mandatory six weeks suspension for having a weapon on the school grounds.
I get hit with a mandatory three weeks suspension for fighting. I get legal advice, and sue the school district for denial of my basic human rights because I'm being punished by them for being a victim who defends himself when faced with a dangerous situation.
I continue with my schooling because Dad hires tutors; we keep a record of the costs for the court case. I also get some more driver training. When I went for my licence in Australia Mum and Dad paid for an Advanced Driver Training Course for me. But over here they drive on the wrong side of the road, so I use that as leverage to get them to pay for a new Advanced Driver Training Course.
The good courses aren't cheap, but I notice the Evasive Driver's Course is only a couple of hundred dollars more, so I add some of my own money and do that one. It takes up two weeks of my suspension, so it helps to fill time, with the third being all studying. Boy was it a fun course to do, and I learned a lot while gaining confidence as a driver.
I never tell my parents, but the reason I want the additional driver training is one of the cops who interviewed me later told me the group Barnes was part of were suspected of having forced two cars of teens off the road in the last few years, putting the kids in them in hospital for many months. He'd heard Barnes is talking about killing me for hurting and embarrassing him so much. I don't know how true that is or how much danger there is, but I'm taking the warning seriously and doing what I can to ensure our safety when I'm out driving.
I'm soon back at school, and things go on with a few changes. Bron, Cadi, and I are persona non grata to the football crowd, which worries us not. The bulk of the school thinks I'm a hero for dealing with Barnes as he was the school's worst bully, but not now; you can't bully if you can't use your arm and limp a lot. His crowd loses a lot of status and the groups I hang out with gain a lot. A very funny thing is school status.
Mary, Peg, and I finish our joint combined project and lodge it for both subjects. We get an A plus in Civics and Government, with an A plus plus in US History; making all our parents happy with the marks.
We all do well in the end of year exams and the family celebrates by spending the Memorial Day long weekend at the Ohkay Casino Resort in San Juan Pueblo. It takes nearly two hours driving North through Santa Fe, seems half the city is headed North that afternoon and traffic is heavy until we leave Santa Fe. The pool and whirlpool are great, and there's lots of local attraction in the way of scenic and historical things to see during the day, with plenty of good entertainment at night.
We spend most of Friday night in the water - pool, and spa. Most of Saturday out walking around various historical sites and great scenic wonders, and the night watching the live show. Sunday is a repeat of Saturday with a new list of historic sites and natural beauty. I don't know for sure about the oldies, but the girls and I have a great time. Sunday night Mum and the girls watch a singer the ladies love and us men find not so good a singer, so we men visit the casino.
We're asked for identification and I'm allowed in with Dad, but not allowed to make bets as I'm under age. I've no intention of betting, so I don't mind. But having the security staff constantly watching me is a bit upsetting. I fully understood why, and still don't like it.
We watch the games for a bit and Dad makes a few bets, losing a little at the roulette. I soon work out I can make his bets win with my Calling skill, but it will sure look odd at the roulette. When we move on to the dice tables, I think they call the game Craps, I see I can use my special skills to make him a winner without it looking odd. So I take time to learn the game rules and use my Calling skill to see the dice come out with a win for Dad. We leave there about twelve hundred dollars ahead, and Dad is happy. Mum is of mixed emotions, happy he won, and unhappy he gambled. But settles down when I say I'd stop him if he went too far. Gambling is an addictive behaviour and some of Dad's family are addicted to drinking alcohol or gambling or both, and Mum worries Dad may go that way too.
Monday we attend the local Memorial Day events and more sight-seeing, followed by another great meal and entertainment. Over all, it's a great weekend all round. Mum is very relieved when Dad expresses no interest in going back to the casino before we leave.
Four days of school, then we're on Summer Break. I skipped our Spring Break activities since we spent it checking out Albuquerque and its surrounds by visiting some local tourist spots as a family group. The Summer Break for most of June and July is great fun for all of us.
I best back up a few months here. Mum and Dad got us a car in very good condition. They'd selected a car and I asked one of the teachers (he teachers how to be a mechanic) to look it over. My parents aren't happy when I veto the car they want to buy, until I give them the mechanical condition report from the teacher. After that they give me a budget and let me look, with advice from the teacher. Hey, why do a course like that if you can't put it to practical use and get professional help while you do. The funny thing is he sees the activity as a teaching experience and gets permission for the twenty students in my class to go car shopping with me during school hours on two school afternoons, and some Saturdays on our own time as well.
The teacher has us all doing condition reports on each vehicle I'm interested in, he then points out things we miss. As we go on we miss a lot less. The car yards' reactions are funny; some won't let us look at the cars that close, so we walk out; others shake their heads and let us go crazy looking the cars over in fine detail. What's interesting is one yard asks us for copies of our reports, which they then use as independent reports on the condition of the car. I often wonder if they helped sales.
The kids in my class who don't have a car already end up buying cars from amongst the better ones of those we inspect.
I buy an older family car in great need of some serious body work and a paint job, but mechanically perfect. The engine is a four and a half litre six cylinder job - a V6, replacing the basic three litre four cylinder one. A five speed manual gear box with plenty of power in all gears, and extra high ground clearance due to special shock absorbers. It's a station wagon type back with a high roof. The interior is nearly in show room condition, with a great sound system installed, and individual DVD players for all of the passengers.
It takes time, but I find out the history on it. The previous owner got caught in the middle of a multi-car accident on the highway, the car was under insured and the repairs were high. The insurance company paid out the policy and let him buy the car off them for next to nothing, as they didn't know about the extras he'd installed. He got more as a trade in for a new car at the yard than he paid the insurance company for it, and the used car sales yard is in partnership with the new car yard, so here it is and available for us to buy.
Mum and Dad like two things about it. Plenty of room for us kids and friends, sitting a total of eight between the front seat, back seat, and two fold out seats in the rear storage area. And being less than the budget allowed me. They let me use the spare money to give it a paint job. I talk the shop teacher into organising for another school's shop class; they do car body repairs and spray painting as shop subjects, into doing it for triple the cost of the materials. I get the panels fixed and a great paint job, all for a fraction of the usual commercial costs; and they get money to do a few more jobs. It takes a few weeks to organise and can't be done before Summer Break, so it'll be done in the first few weeks of the new school year. Over summer the students are to work on paint designs for it; so a lot of them come to look at the car, and they ask Bron and I for our opinions on what we'd like to have. Great fun by all involved.
We get a few laughs from our friends when they first see it, but not after they go for a ride. It still looks like a late looser in a demolition derby when Summer Break starts, but we don't care because we don't look at its outside while driving around in it in comfort.
The second week of Summer Break sees Bron, Mary, Peg, Bradley (Bron's boyfriend), and I driving out to spend a few days at a camping spot in Cibola National Forest. The spot is a bit remote and reached by an old winding and narrow road, little more than enough for two cars to pass each other. But it must get enough use as it's a surfaced road. We have our hiking gear and two tents, a four person one for Mary, Peg, and I, and a three person one for Bradley and Bron. Plenty of food and drink for the few days we'll be away. Cell phones, a GPS, and Personal Locator Beacons (PLBs) as well; parental command on the beacons. Entertainment will be the electronics in the car (radio, CD player, and DVD player), the guitar Mary has in, each other, and the forest.
Where we're headed to camp is only about twenty-five kilometres out of town, out towards Tijeras and then cut back into the National Park. But it's a long drive due to the road conditions over the last half of the trip.
We all have plans for the weekend, so we set out early Monday to drive during daylight. While I'm out getting Mary and Peg from home Bradley turns up in his car, having collected the camping permit on the way over. When I get back we put his, Bron's, and my gear in the car while the girls bring out the food and drinks for loading. We're ready to go mid-morning and wave to Mum and Dad while we head out.
Due to the extra driver training I got I'm very aware of all the cars around me for several vehicles, including those behind me. After a few streets I start to worry about a vehicle, what some call a muscle car, a few vehicles back because it just sits there in the same spot. When we stop to top up the tanks at the discount petrol station we use I look back down the street, and see it pulled up to the kerb and I can see three or four people in it. When we leave I mention it to my companions. They all tell me I'm being paranoid. But I worry a lot more when it's still behind us when we leave town on Route 66.
I mention our tail again when it's still there, and is the only thing in sight, after we take the Cedro Canyon Road turn off. A little way down it and another right, with them still there.
Being a worrier I'd checked the detailed road and terrain maps of the area during the week and have them in the car. I ask Mary to get the road map out of the glove box and describe the road ahead while I watch the tail in the mirror.
A couple of turns later the tail car increases speed and catches up to us. When it pulls up alongside I see Barnes at the wheel with three of his closest mates with him in the car. The windows are down and the two on our side reach out with baseball bats to hit at our car. I add some more throttle and we start to pull away, they speed up again. It's not long before we're both flying down the road at an unsafe speed.
Due to the speed and poor road surface, it's sealed but bumpy, it's hard for them to continue hitting at us with the baseball bats, so they start trying to force us off the road. We're all buckled in, so I don't mind doing some hard driving once the girls confirm the doors are locked shut. Where we are now is a good section of road that's straight with a few light curves while it goes up a hill, down the other side, then a steeper rise to rougher terrain with some sharp corners.
I really enjoy the look on Barnes' face when I put the pedal to the floor and pull away from his muscle car, I think (and hope) it hurts his pride to see my foreign family car leave him behind. We soon hear the sound of his car engine over our own when he pushes it to the limit to catch up. Which they do when we head up the steeper rise to the first of the sharper turns; this is to the left, at about forty-five degrees off straight.
When we approach the bend Barnes is beside us - and grinning. It's clear he intends to keep straight until he's run me off the road. About thirty metres from the bend I stand on the brakes while I drop a gear and release the clutch to use the car's weight to help with the braking.
The look of shock on Barnes when we suddenly drop behind him is priceless, he even half turns his head to watch us. I reach out with my Calling skill and turn the wheel of his car to the right a little so his car starts to move back into our lane just in front of us while I continue to brake hard. I watch when he jerks his head back to the front and starts to heave on the steering wheel while I continue to hold the wheel over to the right. His car continues to float across the lane. I let him take control when his car nears the barrier rail. The car straightens up in time to go straight ahead and out over the edge of the cliff just as I stop braking and use the engine and gears to go into a controlled slide before I power around the corner, then go into heavy braking again. Stopping in the middle of a nice straight stretch I pull right over, park, turn the engine off, and get out.
Everyone bails out and we race back to the break in the rail. We're careful to hold on to things while we look down the valley. We can see where the car hit about twenty metres out and several metres below the road, because the trees and ground there are torn up a fair bit. Bradley spots the wreck well down the valley, about two hundred metres out and around three hundred metres down, it's off to the side at about thirty degrees. I guess it hit the sloping ground near us with its nose or front wheels and then bounced off at an angle. No way we can get down there from here.
I go back to the car and use the GPS to get a reading while I call the emergency services on the cell phone. To keep the call simple I first tell them the location with the GPS reading and about a car leaving the road at high speed. I also ask for police and rangers to stop and talk to us about it. They pass on the requests and ask why I want the cops. I confirm they've the proper services headed our way, and give them a quick run-down on what happened. All about the tail, the attack, and my evasive action. The operator is surprised, but stays with me until the first of the Park Rangers arrives and confirms he's on site. He came down from the area where we're headed to, so he's quick to arrive.
A little later a couple of helicopters arrive and hover over the area. One drops down to near the wreck and a rope drops, followed by a fellow sliding down the rope. We watch this, until a voice says, “Care to tell me about it.” I turn, to see a group of several cops and more Park Rangers standing there. I half smile, and nod.
They're quick to split us up with a cop and a Park Ranger paired up to do each interview. After giving my version of events to the senior cop and a ranger I take them to our car to show where they hit it. The Park Ranger says, “How the heck can you tell where you got hit, and how can we prove the new hits, if you can?”
I smile, saying, “This car is going to be a student shop project at the school of a friend of my shop teacher. They'll be doing all the panel beating and paint it, I'm paying them for the materials for this and two other projects. They've photos and detailed records of every mark as it was two days before the end of school. So they can be used to prove the new damage, which is ...” and I point to each new dent and mark. Some are very obvious because the hits scrapped off the red lead to leave nice shiny metal showing. They make notes on everything I point at.
The cop says, “We're not sure who'll be handling this because this area is a mixed jurisdiction, so we're doing a joint investigation. In case you were wondering why the mixed teams.”
I nod, “The driver of the other vehicle, Barnes, assaulted me some months back and got hurt when I took the knife off him. He wasn't happy. Since then I've heard rumours he's out for payback. I think this was his attempt at that. But he found out, the hard way, I'm no easy hit.” Both of them nod and note this down.
We return to the broken rail and join the rest while we watch the action around the wreck, there's about a dozen people moving about it now. One of the cops walks up, and says, “Four dead older teens in the car. All identified from the driver's licences on them.” We nod.
A little later four Stokes stretchers are lifted out and a heavy duty helicopter lifts the wreck out. The men at the site check it over, picking up a few things before they walk off down the valley. A Park Ranger says, “They'll go down to the end of the valley and up the next. There's a hiking trail back up to the road there. Much easier doing that than to try and climb back up here. This isn't the first to go off here.”
Turning away I notice a bunch of cops measuring the skid marks and taking photos of everything. I ask if they can be quick to finish with our car so we can go on with our camping holiday. One Park Ranger asks to see our permit while another talks to the forensic team. Bradley shows the Park Ranger our permit while I call Dad and tell him the events, reassuring him we're OK. I laugh when Bron's phone rings while I'm talking to Dad, it's Mum reacting to what she can hear at Dad's end. I hang up while Bron is still calming Mum down. I take two steps and Cadi is on my phone, so I go through it all again. By then Mary is on the phone to her mother and Bradley is telling his parents. Half in jest, I say, “I figure half of Albuquerque will know about this before tonight's news.” I get a lot more laughs than I expect. I turn around, to see most of the cops and Park Rangers are within earshot, and they all agree with me due to the heavy phone usage going on.
We're soon allowed to go on our way, and are quick to reach the camp site, set up, and have a late lunch. The next morning we're up, but not out when a Park Ranger calls out near the tent. We ignore him since I'm busy making Mary very happy, and I'm sure Bradley is doing the same for Bron in the next tent. After the Park Ranger's fourth call Peg sticks her head out, and says, “Please piss off for an hour. Give our boyfriend time to finish fucking my twin sister and do me good, too.” She tells us he's quick to leave while trying not to laugh.
During the course of our stay we see Park Rangers around once or twice each day, and run into a couple at road junctions when we leave just after lunch on Thursday. They all smile and wave when we go by.
It turns out to be a good thing we stayed away. Tuesday morning the media are on the doorstep wanting to interview us, so we missed the media circus. Cadi tells them we've gone away for three weeks, which is why they leave after not seeing us for a few days, because they think she's told them the truth.
When I find out the Park Rangers had spent a lot of time keeping the media out of our hair while we were in the park we send them two vouchers for portable spit roasts of a whole head of beef for use at their staff picnics or the like. The head Park Ranger comes by to thank us for the thought, but explains they aren't allowed to accept such gifts and hands them back. After a few questions I find out the Park Rangers support a particular local charity for children. So I hand them to him and ask him to pass them on to the charity. He smiles when he accepts them for the charity. A few weeks later we get invites to a summer luncheon by the charity when they put on a big party for their kids. Having the bulk of the food already organised made it easier for them to get others to donate for the rest of the party. The Park Rangers are well represented as well. We all have a good time.
There's a Coroner's Enquiry with an official verdict of Death by Misadventure, that means an accident. The friends of the dead became angry about their deaths, so do the football team; it lost four of its linebackers, I must find out what they do to be so big and so dumb. The families grieve; they accept the deaths because they know their boys were violent and expected such an end, but not so soon.
We get hounded by the media, and I strike a deal where they'll leave us all alone if I do an interview. I make them pay up before I do it. I get fifteen thousand dollars towards my university costs and the others get five thousand dollars each, too. I get the extra because I go on television and am subjected to the questions on the matter by their reporter for the exclusive with the local television station.
The new school year starts well with us all looking forward to what we'll learn; until the football team starts to express their displeasure at losing an important part of their team which they're having trouble to replace. It seems without the four dead they won't be able to win any games because the school has no suitable replacements interested in being on the team. They lose a lot more status in the student body and get angry about that. Some are dumb enough to try and take it out on me.
Lunchtime on the Wednesday of the first week a few of the football team are hassling Bron at lunch. I approach them and tell them to lay off her. Catching one of them looking over my shoulder and smiling, I duck while I grab Bron and move fast to my left three paces. The goon trying to hit me from behind staggers forward and into his friends when he gets no resistance from the punch. Two more of them move in on me while we back away. This time I keep backing away and I use my Calling skills to make trouble for them by pushing them off balance or stopping them from moving their feet to exactly where they need them for proper balance. It takes about a minute for a couple of teachers to appear and get them under control. There's plenty of witnesses of them harassing Bron and me, but since no contact was made they just get a talking to. I complain about that, and get told off for complaining.
We've our car for getting to school for the first week, but the next week it's over at the other school for some weeks to fix the body panels and paint it. So we're back to catching buses to and from school. Bron can't wait for us to get it back since she now has a Full Licence. She was old enough for one when she did the test. But was upset about having to do the compulsory six months as a Learner, and was happy when that ended during Summer Break. She even talked Mum and Dad into paying for her to do the Evasive Driver's Course during the Summer Break. She loved it and passed well. I think Mum and Dad only agreed due to my saying how it helped me deal with Barnes and his mates, and how it gave me the skill and confidence in handling the car as well.
On the Tuesday of the third week I arrive near the school buses to find a couple of the football team harassing Cadi and Bron, with more of them lounging about nearby; none of them catch these buses. Cadi says something and one grabs her. He bodily lifts her up and hits her against the side of the bus. The noise causes the driver to get out of the bus just as I rush up and kick the arse hole in the balls as hard as I can.
He lets go of Cadi and she drops to the ground, shaking, when he drops to the ground, moaning while holding his balls. Bron races over to Cadi, holding her tight while she hits a speed dial on her phone. I turn to face the seven other football players moving in for a fight.
I see another mandatory few weeks' suspension for fighting headed my way, so I figure on taking all of them with me. The one nearest me swings a punch, I duck and use my right foot to sweep his feet out from under him at the same time. He hits the ground hard. When I step over him towards the next I take time to stomp on his leg, and smile when I hear the bone snap. The next one has some training and throws a straight punch, a perfect boxing jab. I sway away from it while raising my right hand to grab his wrist, I swing my left hand up and across to hit his elbow. I hear a crack, and he screams when his forearm takes on a most unusual angle as the elbow breaks. I think he's out of it for now.
The driver is yelling at us to stop as the next two come in together. The one on my left has a knife and is slashing at me with it. I use my Calling skill to push it to my right more. Grabbing his right wrist I turn the hand back towards him and shove hard as I swing a left at his arm. The action results in the knife plunging into the belly of his mate beside him just before I break his forearm in half. Both give a nice scream.
The last three move to come at me from three sides while one tells the driver, “Shut up and fuck off while we kill this mother fucker.”
All three have knives out and are weaving them before them, it looks like they know how to use them, too. Sliding to my right I weave my hands about when I move in on the right hand one. Striking fast, I grab the inside of his right wrist with my left hand at the same time as I grab his belt. I'm quick to move back to my left and use all my strength to lift and pull him to me. I pivot on my left foot, my back foot, while I take most of his weight and throw him at the one on my left. When I let him go I drop to the ground and swing my right foot at the left knee of the one in the middle. He screams when his knee shatters. The fellow I tossed screams too. I jump up again and move towards the last one just as I hear sirens approaching. The last goon is part turned away while the guy I tossed slides off the knife he's holding. When the knife comes free he turns to me just as I let him have a kick in the knee. He drops the knife when he screams and falls to the ground.
I back off and check on Cadi just as the police cars and ambulances pull up. I glance up, to see a stunned look on the driver while the police swarm over the scene. I point out to the police the ones with knife wounds so they can have the paramedics see to them first. It takes nearly an hour for the police to get statements from all involved. The paramedics are much quicker in getting the goons stabilised and off to hospital. I also have them check the girls, and they give Cadi a mild sedative to help calm her down. The cops give us a ride home when they're finished at the scene.
All eight football players and I get a mandatory suspension of four weeks for a major brawl as against just fighting. The suspensions are over before any of the football players are passed fit enough to go to school by the doctors, some are still in hospital when I return to class. I arrive back at school in style because our car is finished a few days earlier, so I drive us in. The paint job is incredible; a basic burnt orange brown with typical Australian scenes on both sides, the bonnet, and the boot. I personally thank all involved when I collect it the day before, on Monday. Bron and Cadi love it because it's so distinctive and nice.
The football team now has a zero status because they're reduced to using the offensive team from the juniors, and they can't handle the harder hitting seniors of the opposition. After two games the juniors refuse to play senior games and the seniors have to forfeit the rest of the season. Boy, are they unhappy. Why they blame me and not the stupid players who start the fights is beyond me, but maybe it's beyond their small mental abilities to work out the cause and effect process.
The principal has a word with the football players about not getting into any more fights. I think he does this due to pressure from above. I'd spoken to the lawyer handling the unfair discrimination case and we increase the claim by adding the latest suspension to it as well as a new bit about the school's inability to protect students, namely me and the girls, from an unruly element in the school. The first fight, car attack, and luncheon attack showed the school had an issue with one element, but took no action to increase student security. Our claim is now for a million dollars, we don't expect to get that much, but it does get the attention of the senior people in the district education system, which is our aim.
Again I'll back up a bit. Four weeks suspension is a long time, but I manage by borrowing notes from Mary and Peg on Friday and going through them on the weekend while we study and do homework together. During the week I read the text books and do research on the Internet; I'm getting a better understanding of the subjects while on suspension than in class. The teachers are very understanding of the situation and mark the homework I send in with Mary and Peg.
One of the neighbours has a son, Paul, taking a year's break from studies. He's twenty-three and at home most of the time because his driver's licence is suspended for a year for driving while drunk. It's hard to get about the city from here without a car, since most of the public transport is aimed at school and work commuters. During the first week of my suspension he offers to pay for my drinks and food for the day if I'll spend the day driving him about. I agree, and we end up about fifteen kilometres North of town in San Felipe, at the Casino Hollywood.
He sits there playing Blackjack for most of the day. I'm not allowed in the casino unless I stay with him, and it's boring watching someone playing cards for hours on end. I often take some books and stay in one of the general public areas studying; sometimes I take in what little there is to see within walking distance. It's his car and I'm not taking it anywhere without him in it, in case the police pull me over.
At the end of the first week I point out my problem with the hours he sits there gambling; he doesn't win big, but he always ends up with enough extra to pay for the day's costs and a bit left over. The Monday of the second week he hands me a driver's licence showing my age as being old enough to enter the casino and gamble by myself. I put this in my wallet, but in a different spot, making sure to keep both the licences hidden, because I don't want any questions about why I've got two.
Because we're both now well known at the Hollywood and they know I'm not old enough, we go to the Santa Ana Star Casino in Santa Ana Pueblo several kilometres North of town. Paul sits at the Blackjack table and I head for the Craps table. Here I'm safe to use my Calling skill to make some money. Not wanting to seem too lucky I start betting for a 'craps,' betting the shooter will roll a two, three, or twelve on his first roll, this gives me a seven to one payout with eight to one odds. I alternate that by betting the shooter to make his point and not betting at all on some rolls or shooters. I win most bets using my Calling skill, but make a point of not winning every bet. I bet the same amount for each bet within a specific hour. At the end of the hour I make a show of checking my money, putting some aside, and doing a calculation before increasing the bet amount. During the course of the day I increase the two hundred dollars I got from my bank account to seven thousand and five hundred dollars. After we leave I go to the bank and deposit seven thousand dollars, keeping the five hundred for the next day's stake. Paul is surprised my winnings are much more than his, because he's been gambling regularly for a few years.
The next day I start with larger bets than I did on Monday, I make a point of losing a few more bets during the day, but still end up with nineteen thousand and six hundred dollars for the day. Like yesterday, at the end of each hour I review what I've got and retire a lot of it out of the game, so I'm playing with new winnings from then on.
Wednesday is a repeat. At lunch time, with my winnings at sixteen thousand and seven hundred dollars, casino security ask to have a chat with me. It's a very interesting chat because they help me choose a nice meal at the bistro and we take it to a room at the side of the casino. While I eat they run some sensors over me, I don't know what they're checking for, and ask me questions. They're straight forward about my winning streak, they tell me they suspect I may be cheating and are looking to prove or disprove it. It's in my interest for them to prove I'm not using any devices or associates to cheat, so I help them.
When they ask me to take my clothes off I make a joke, and say, “Heck, if you get me something that fits and looks better, I'll let you keep them.” The joke's on me when they take sizes and measurements, ten minutes later two watch while I empty my pockets and strip, even the underwear, to put on some very nice clothes worth about double what I wore in. I even let them go through and test my pocket contents. My real licence is hidden in the car because I figured they'd want to do a search sometime, and I've an old wallet for gambling. They check everything in my wallet, which is little more than money and my fake ID in my real name. To be safe they give me a brand new wallet.
After proving I'm not using any equipment of any sort they ask about Paul, and I explain our relationship; I drive his car for him as a temporary job of sorts. He plays Blackjack and I found that boring, so I started playing Craps. Eventually we get to the real crunch questions.
The head security guy asks, “How do you decide what to bet on?”
I smile, “Mysticism. I sit at the table and meditate for a moment to settle down and become one with the universe. I seek the answers from within as to what will win, and bet that way. At times I lose my balance with the universe because I get distracted by a lovely lady in my vision and I don't understand or correctly interpret the answer The Spirits give me.” He indicates he doesn't believe me; well, that's how I interpret his hand gesture. I add, “It's either that or I'm a space alien using rays from my space ship to control things.”
They give me a few comments on being a smart arse, and let me go. Thanks to the delays my day's winnings are twenty-three thousand dollars; making forty-seven thousand and two hundred dollars for the three days gambling. Wow, what an income.
That night I think long and hard about the casino and the security staff. I research their ownership and employment process. The Indian casinos are owned by the tribes the staff come from. They make good profits for the tribes, but not huge profits like the casinos in Las Vegas and other places make, while the wages are the industry standards. I'd also noticed some staff and other gamblers seemed to become cool to me when I win more. I decide to cut back on my winnings and to also tip the staff very well. This'll mean less time at the tables all up, but a touch longer than the minimum to reach my target; it should also make the staff less angry with me. Time proves me right about the staff.
The next day we turn up and I don't gamble. When asked why, I say, “The Spirits told me to leave your casino in peace for a while.” Which gets some strange looks from some of the security staff. Later, I find out some of them don't believe in the old ways while some do, and being given directions by The Spirits is part of the old ways. So those who believe in the old ways half believe my answers. This helps me in my relationships with some of the other staff as well.
For the rest of my time off we visit a different casino each day. With nine casinos within a few hours' drive we don't appear too soon at the same casino again. When we next visit the Star they keep a close eye on me, but let me gamble. I now make a point of stopping when I win fifteen thousand dollars at a casino, it's always a bit more than that, but I tip the staff very well for bringing me food and drinks at the table.
I keep a box in the car where I stick every fuel and food docket we collect during my suspension, it's all paid cash so there's no names on them. Paul asks why I'm collecting them, and I say, “Want to bet the tax man will want a slice of the money? Want to bet the Star hasn't told them how much I won there and they have my name? These dockets can be legitimate expenses in earning the income. Now I've got to find a good tax accountant.” He laughs, and mentions one he's heard of.
The Friday of the third week we finish gambling early and head to the accountant's office, because earlier in the week I'd made an appointment for today. In the office I talk about wanting to reduce the amount of taxes. He calls a solicitor friend and we're soon set up with a company that's only six weeks old and hasn't sorted out its bank accounts or top officers yet, it's a shelf company he has. By the next Wednesday the papers are finished and I've some documents to be signed by Mum and Dad as the two senior executives, and all of my winnings are transferred to the company bank account. I'm reimbursed for the petrol expenditure and get paid a per diem for the meals, as well as an hourly wage in the hundreds of dollars range. The company shares are split up as ten percent to Mum and Dad each, five percent to Cadi and Bron each, and seventy percent to me as the main field worker and the creator of the systems used by our new professional gambling operation. About half of the revenue will be disbursed each month to give us a regular income each.
During my four week's suspension I win over two hundred and forty thousand dollars. The tax man would normally take just on one hundred thousand of it, leaving me with only one hundred and forty thousand dollars. Even with the accountant's and solicitor's high fees the new arrangement leaves us getting one hundred and seventy thousand dollars. Twenty thousand of that's my wages, per diem, and reimbursements; plus my one hundred and five thousand dollars from the company shares, giving me a total of one hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars. Mum and Dad get fifteen thousand each, while Bron and Cadi get seven and a half thousand dollars a piece. After all the money shuffling to make the tax people happy I end up with fifteen thousand less than what I would've got normally, and the rest of my family end up with forty-five thousand between them. That's thirty thousand more within the family than without the fancy foot work. I'm very happy with their work in setting the company up.
This has one problem as I see it. Cadi, Bron, and I each receive an account for the money, but can't access it without approval from our parents or a court approved trustee. This changes when we turn eighteen, which can't come soon enough for us. Sure we get money for clothing, education, and cars. However, if we want anything above a certain amount we've got to convince the parents it's a good idea.
The morning of the last Saturday of my suspension I sit Mum and Dad down at the dinner table and place the company papers and bank forms in front of them for signature. Dad checks them over and signs before handing them to Mum, saying, “OK, I see nothing requiring any money from us, so I'm signing. But I want to know what this is all about before I hand them back.” I smile while Mum reads and signs them.
I say, “The other day I came up with an idea about making money. Paul and I tried it out and it works. We spoke to an accountant and a lawyer, they agree it works and we've set up the company. To be legal we need some adults as senior executives and three or more people as owners, this is to legally cut down on the taxes payable. This way I get a little less than if I paid general taxes, but we, as a family, get to keep a lot more than the cost of setting it up. I object to handing lots of the money over to the government if I can legally avoid it, but don't mind sharing with my family. It's all legal.”
Mum is passing the papers back, when she says, “How much are you talking about us getting?” She keeps a hold of the papers when she asks.
“I don't have the final figures yet, but I think you and Dad will get about fifteen thousand each, while the girls get about half that each.”
Gulping, Dad asks, “How much do you get?”
I give a weak smile, “It's my idea and I do the work. So I get the lion's share at about a hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars.”
They're both stunned. Mum asks, “OK, what's it doing? That's a lot of money in a short time.” She still has a death grip on the papers.
“I've worked out a system for betting on Craps that works ninety percent of the time. And I only bet on the reasonable odds options, so it will even come out ahead if it only works half that time.”
That opens the flood gates. Mum takes off like a Saturn Five rocket on steroids with boosters. She talks about gambling being organised theft for nearly an hour. Dad sits there, stunned, the whole time.
When Mum runs down I say, “I did feel like I was stealing from them, until I think about how they're stealing from everyone else. Mum, I started with two hundred dollars a few weeks ago and already have over two hundred thousand dollars of winnings in the bank. After the first day I only played with winnings.”
She settles down again on learning I'm doing very well, until she remembers my age and the lower limit for gamblers. Then I really cop it for getting a fake driver's licence and gambling while too young. The meeting ends with them giving me the signed papers as I hand over the fake licence and promise not to gamble again until after I turn eighteen. Also, as a punishment for breaking the law, on their birthday I get to buy each of my sisters a nice car of their own - from my own money.
Mum and Dad always paid us a small allowance for doing things around the house. As a result of this they speak to the accountant, the lawyer, and the public trustee. They start paying our allowance direct to the trust managed accounts and those accounts pay agreed amounts of a weekly allowance to our daily use bank accounts; it's double our old allowances, plus a monthly allowance for clothes. The extra being from the winnings. The girls are happy with the extra money going to their accounts, until they learn they have a few thousand more they can't touch yet. They grumble, but accept they'll get it in small lots.
Some weeks later Dad takes us to one of the casinos for a weekend away, paid for from his share of the winnings pay out, the staff see me and ask why I haven't been around of late. I tell the manager, “When I started gambling I was visiting a casino for several hours a day each week day. In order not to wear out my welcome at any one casino I started visiting a different one each day. When my mother realised I was gambling so much she became very concerned about it, because compulsive gambling is a problem with many men in my father's family. To prove I don't have a gambling problem I'm keeping away from all gambling until December. Both Mum and I think if I've a gambling addiction it'll raise its head by then, and if I can manage until then I'm OK.” They readily accept the explanation and tell me they look forward to seeing me again in December.
I thought that was odd, until I realise they think they can either win it back or use me as good publicity for their fair and honest games.
After my return to school things settle down for quite a while. Peg, Mary, and I are happy; so are Bron and Bradley, and Cadi and Peter. Yeah, Cadi's going steady; well, as steady as Mum will let her. Most of the time they do their homework together at our place. We all get good marks in the spot tests the teachers give us and for our assignments.
Mum and Dad don't tell the girls about my punishment for the fake ID, so they're very happy to get their own cars for their birthdays. Mum won't approve new cars, so I get them demonstrator cars of superseded models. Both are sporty looking four door sedans the other students see as very cool. So we all have our own cars now. Bron often loans me her car while she borrows mine because she loves it. As much as possible we go out as a group with me driving my car.
The half year exams come around and we do well. We've a little bit of trouble with the celebrations of Thanksgiving and Halloween, but manage OK. A few of our fellow students are a bit surprised about our participation in Veterans' Day, until we explain it's an international holiday and why, most didn't know it's an international one. We even get the local Veteran's Association to incorporate the Australian Ode of Remembrance in their major public service. The VA manage to locate an Australian veteran to do it, too.
Winter Break is fun most of the time due to the snow; not a huge amount, but enough to let us know we aren't in Australia. We even go skiing one day. Yes, I know we've snow and skiing in Australia; but they're in very confined areas, not huge swaths of flat areas that go on and on for miles, like we see here.
On the first weekend in December Paul has me taking him to the casinos again, and I include Mary and Peg in the trips. They enjoy the entertainment and other activities the casinos have.
During December I add another one hundred and fifty thousand dollars to the company coffers. On the skiing weekend, which is at the Inn of the Mountain Gods Resort and Casino in Mescalero, the girls are surprised to see me personally welcomed by so many of the senior staff. When I go to the gaming tables and gamble in the evening they ask Mum why she doesn't object. They get a big surprise when Mum tells them about me being a professional gambler and being the cause of their extra allowances through my winnings being shared.
We've been spending one weekend a month away as a family, and the girls did wonder why we usually go to a casino. Once Mum tells them about my work I explain how I claim from the company for the fuel and my accommodation as expenses when I work, making the cost of the trip cheaper for us as a family.
We return to school after the New Year celebrations. We finish the year with excellent school results; Bron, Cadi, Mary, Peg, and I have near perfect Grade Point Averages. No more trouble from the football crowd because many change schools to continue playing. Some had to change because they aren't doing well in class, and without the extra help given to the football team they weren't likely to graduate due to poor grades. So that trouble seems to evaporate because the junior football team appears to be a lot smarter than the seniors were.
About the time of the final exams the School District Board settle our cases out of court, I get a tax free compensation of two hundred and fifty thousand dollars and they erase the suspensions from my record. The principal complains about them settling, and he gets a transfer as of the end of the year.
Total income for the company for the period to June is over one and three quarter million dollars. I limit each casino session to around fifteen thousand dollars and don't track the total, so I'm as surprised as the rest when we get a statement from the accountant.
After the accounting fees, legal fees, and the taxes, Mum and Dad get one hundred and five thousand dollars each while the girls get fifty two thousand and five hundred dollars each. Mum and Dad are shell shocked because their money from me for the year matches what they get from the university each. My wages and per diem is one hundred and fifty thousand dollars and my income from the company is seven hundred and thirty-five thousand dollars, giving me a total of eight hundred and eighty-five thousand dollars for the whole year; these figures include those mentioned earlier, they aren't additional to them. By the time I add in my compensation from the School, I've one million, one hundred and thirty-five thousand dollars after tax income for the year. Not a bad income for a high school kid. Heck, not a bad income for almost anyone.
One unexpected event is the accountant and the lawyer get visits from the Internal Revenue Service to check the set up and the books. I also get interviewed by them and a couple of people from the Federal Bureau of Investigation, they're concerned I may be laundering money for criminal organisations. The way I spread the losses around amongst the casinos and keep the daily losses down convinces them I'm not, but my name and bank account now have some flag in the government and banking computer systems.
Being a rich boy now I discuss with Mum and Dad about applying for licences to carry a pistol each. They don't think it's needed, until I point out how they'd all be good kidnap targets if our wealth becomes public knowledge. They agree and we all spend some afternoons at a local pistol club learning how to shoot while we investigate the laws. Learning to use a weapon under the guidance and control of a qualified instructor at a licensed club is different to having one at home. By the New Mexico laws you have to be a twenty-one year old US citizen to get a permit to carry a concealed weapon, and it's not allowed on school grounds. We look for possible special exceptions to the laws because we all spend a lot of time on school grounds.
On our third visit to the pistol club I meet one nice fellow and we become good friends, Bron and Cadi like him as well. He gives us a lot of help and advice on how to shoot and what pistols to use. We're quick to learn how to use a semi-automatic pistol and a revolver in a safe and proper way. The one we like the best is the Glock Model G20C; a 10 mm calibre with compensator to help hold it steady, and good power. This is the one we practice with the most and become very good with.
After a few weeks our new friend, Matt, asks why we're learning to shoot, I tell him about the troubles we've had and how we're worried the friends of Barnes and his mates will cause more trouble. A couple of weeks after that he introduces us to another man, an older man, and asks me to explain our situation. I later learn he's the Chief of Police.
A few more weeks and we're given paperwork to fill in because the City is issuing us with special concealed carry permits. These are real oddities since only Mum and us kids are US citizens, also the girls and I aren't over twenty-one, and we're allowed to carry them at school too. Our friend makes the gun purchases easier by processing the initial buys himself and then doing a private sale to us. So we soon get five G20Cs and ten spare magazines, to have two extra magazines each.
Mary and Peg are from a broken home. Their mother is a very nice woman, but none of them talk about the girls' father, I don't even know his name as the girls use their mother maiden name for a family name.
A few days later I'm talking with Mary and Peg about my friend at the gun club and how he helped us get special licences and the guns. When they ask his name, I say, “State Police Captain Matthew Joules, he was transferred in about six months back, but already knows a lot of influential people in the city police.” Mary goes white and Peg gulps.
Peg says, “He used to be on the city police force. I wonder if he knows we're going steady?” I give her an odd look. “That's our dad.”
The next time I meet Matt at the club I ask him, after we're finished practice for the day and are cleaning up, “Got any family?”
He looks at me for a moment, and says, “Sort of. I'm divorced with two very lovely daughters I'm not allowed to see. I made the mistake of putting my work first and my family second. Then I became a drunk while I fought the divorce. Haven't been allowed to see the girls for five years. An old friend who's still in contact sends me photos every few months, so I keep an eye on them from a distance. After the divorce I transferred to the state police from the city police and moved south. This current posting was a case of take the post and promotion or retire. So I'm here because I've got nothing left to retire to except a very empty apartment. I hear my girls have a nice boyfriend who's attracting a lot of odd attention. I've checked him out and he's very nice guy, the kind I'd like to see them with.”
“Would it help if I brought them down to watch me practice some days?” He shakes his head no. So I figure there's some court orders in it.
A few days later I'm dining at the Manning house with Mary, Peg, and their mother, Maggie. Towards the end of the dinner I look up, and ask, “Did the girls tell you I'm getting a lot of help from a nice guy at the gun club?”
She nods, “How's Matthew?”
“Physically, he's well. Work wise, he's in a position he was told to take or retire. Emotionally, he's a mixed bag because he has nothing left now but work. And long ago realised what a mistake he made back then.”
She looks up at me with the final comment, “He tell you the last?”
“No, I heard the pain in his voice while he talked about it.”
A few nods about the table while they all exchange looks. I spend the evening with the girls in their bedroom, they share a king sized bed. Later, when I'm leaving, Maggie hands me a sheet of paper. I open it:
To whom it may concern,
In accordance with section five of the custody orders, I give written permission for Matthew Joules to visit with my daughters Mary and Peggy when they wish to see him, as long as they all stay in the presence of Mr Anian Cartier Evans. Mr Evans is to closely supervise any visits arranged by the mutual agreement of the parties.
Margaret Manning
I look at her, and she says, “I'll let the girls know it's their choice. They never liked me cutting him off. But when he became a drunkard I couldn't risk him doing something stupid.” I nod, and leave.
Two days later is my next afternoon at the gun club and I've two excited guests going with me to watch how I shoot. Cadi and Bron are with us too, and Bradley will be bringing Peter over later.
I sign my guests in, have them listen very close to the safety rules from the Range Supervisor, and fit them with ear and eye protection. The five of us walk out to the range, with my guests last.
My guests stand behind us when Cadi, Bron, and I line up both sides of Matt. I wait for him to finish his current set and stand down. When he clears the gun and puts it on the table I place the letter beside the gun, saying, “Read that.” I watch his eyes go wide while he does.
He looks at me, “When can you ask them if they'll see me?”
I take his arm and turn him around to see Mary and Peg about a metre and a half back in the observers' area. Somehow everyone on the line seems to know something is up, and they stop to watch. For a moment he stands there, then takes a hesitant step towards the girls with his arms opening slightly. Breaking into smiles, they dash to him and hug him. While the three of them stand there crying I motion with my head for all the smiling observers to go back to their shooting. They wave, nod, and turn back to their practice.
After a few minutes I go to them and move the girls back behind the line, “Matt, I'm to personally supervise you three and only have so long on the range. Why don't we both finish our shooting then go talk as a group, OK?” He looks at me, nods, and returns to the line. I think we both set new club time records for shooting sets with our usual scores.
After we clean and tidy up we sit in the club bistro while they get reacquainted. I sit there, smiling while we talk. It must look funny, since we start with Mary in my lap and Peg in his, and every few minutes they swap laps. Many people moving through the club look over and smile, the ones with the biggest smiles are the ones I know are in the city or state police forces. When the time moves on I suggest we all go and get a meal. Matt can come with us if he can organise for someone to get his car home. He leaves for a moment, and returns with his bag.
We end up at a nice restaurant for a meal, my shout. Matt objects, saying, “Hey, you're a high school kid. I should be paying.”
I smile, “Matt, as well as being a high school kid I'm a successful professional gambler. I can afford this. I'm paying. It's my very good winning at gambling that caused the governmental interest.”
He looks shocked, and the girls are surprised. Mary says, “Is that why you take us to the casinos so often, so you can gamble and win?” I smile and nod. She grins, and waves for another dessert, the cheeky girl.
We've a fun time with our school friends showing us great places to see, and me taking them to casinos for the entertainment while I bet and make more money. I spend a lot of time not at the casinos, but still end up taking in another two hundred and sixty thousand dollars of income during the holidays.
I do notice a few odd people watching me at the casinos, towards the end of the break. When I ask the staff about them they simply tell me they're government investigators of some sort, and they don't like them because they think the casino is being checked. After I start seeing some of the same ones at different casinos I wonder if it's me they're watching for some unknown reason.
This goes on for the next few weeks, and the casino staff are jumpy about the constant stream of government people. These men worry me, so I take to locking my gun up in the car gun safe while gambling, and give spare car keys to Mary and Peg to carry.
We even take a few days to visit the camp site we went to last year. In a frightening case of deja vu I spot a car following us. It just hangs back there and watches, making me think it's the government agents watching me still. After we park at the camp site the car drives through and heads out again. A few hours later a couple of cars of young men arrive and set up at the site as well. I talk to my group and we get everything as ready as we can.
Once the young men are all set up we're very quick to break camp, taking only a few minutes to toss everything in the car and be ready to go. One of them men asks, “What's up?”
I answer him, “We came up here to be all alone by ourselves. With you lot here, we aren't, so we're moving elsewhere - to be alone.”
I hop in and speed out of there in the car, driving off fast. A bit down the road we pass the car that's been trailing us, two men are standing beside it and one is talking on the radio. They scramble for the car when we power past them. Using all my advanced driving skills I keep my foot down and speed down the road. I make a point of losing them well before we get back to the main road, so they've no idea which way we head from the intersection. Instead of going home we drive further into the national forest and seek out one of the least used camp sites that's much deeper in. Once we reach it I hide the car, both behind and under trees, even setting up our tents to be concealed from a visual check of the site by car or fly over by a helicopter.
We'd originally planned to be away for two nights in the last week of the Summer Break, so we drive up on Tuesday - intending to go home Thursday. We've plenty of food and water, so we plan on going home Friday now.
While I'm driving out of the old camp Bron rings Cadi to tell her what we're doing and asks her to let Mum and Dad know. She agrees. We all turn our mobile phones off and remove the cards before we place them all in the glove box. Bron thinks I'm being paranoid, but she's also pissed off with them ruining our original holiday plans.
Despite everything, we do have a good time. We do see some cars do a quick check out of the camp site, but all our stuff is well hidden from a casual visual check, you'd have to walk around in the scrub to spot our stuff. Many helicopters fly over the area on the Tuesday afternoon and Wednesday morning. If they use instruments to search for metals or heat they'd find us; but not by a visual check.
We take a few walks in the area during the day and make sure not to make any smoke. Some nights we have a camp fire going, but have it set so the fire is hard to see. Unlike last time, we use our gas camp stoves for all our cooking instead of a camp fire.
We pack up and leave just after lunch on Friday. Once we get back on the larger roads we spot a couple of suspicious looking vehicles with people standing near them. A few of the people are very surprised as we wave at them while passing, they include the young men we ran out on. By the time we're nearly home we've a couple of tails and I spot cars paralleling us on each side by looking up side streets and seeing them.
When we get home we unpack, put our clothes on to wash, and I feel compelled to send an email to my Uncle Derfel Evans in Australia, his name means oak or stubborn prince, telling him what's going on.
We're hardly home an hour; just long enough to unpack, repack, and wash before Mum has us all in the car and headed out to a casino resort for the weekend. Our tails join the parade, I point them out to Mum and Dad while we drive, they shake their heads about it.
I'm so proficient in my gambling now it only takes about half a day for me to win my target of fifteen thousand for the day. The casinos are now used to me and let me know when I'm approaching the target, that gives me time to count up, tidy up, distribute tips, and be ready to leave when I hit the target. I suspect some are very realistic and are just trying to minimise losses while helping me know where I'm at. Some even use my winning in their advertising, with my written permission. With only needing to gamble half the day I spend the other half with the family enjoying the attractions. The staff all love my big tips, too. Since I'm a big gambler I have to keep up with the big tips away from the gaming tables, so I tip all the staff from the winnings.
We get home after a nice weekend away, and unpack. I check my emails and find several, amongst them is a reply from Uncle Derfel. He says he'll see what he can find out about what's going on and give me what help he can. That sets me to wondering, again, about what he does for a living. He was in the Special Air Service in the Australian Army for some years, but retired from them and took up some sort of private employment that involves a lot of travelling. He lives well, so he must be well paid. I know he has lots of contacts, but wonder how they can help with this and how he can help with it too, but feel he can, hmm.
I should explain Uncle Derfel isn't Dad's brother, but his first cousin and is a year older than Dad. They were inseparable as kids and closer to each other than their own brothers, he's more like a very close uncle than our real uncles. So we call him uncle because it seems rude to us to just call him by his name like we do our other cousins. Also, I'd emailed him to begin with because I had an odd feeling he may be able to help. He and I have always been very close, I often suspect he's closer to me than Dad ever was.
We start school, Cadi in Year Nine, Bron in Year Eleven, with Mary, Peg, and I in Year Twelve. We're all looking forward to enjoying this year. A large part of it because we don't have to worry about the extra dumb football seniors as we don't have any now, and the ones who left haven't bothered us since the last fight. Senior Year is more time for personal studies, which the girls and I find easy, so more time for fun and personal play.
Our schedules give us two afternoons off each week, so Paul, Mary, Peg, and I go to the casinos those afternoons and study that night. With the weekends at the casinos and two afternoons, I'm earning over sixty thousand dollars a week for the company.
In July I add ninety thousand dollars to the company bank account, and another sixty thousand per week after school starts. So we're doing very well. And still being followed around by the government
Mid September I get another email from Uncle Derfel. Don't ask me how, but he's able to confirm the IRS (Internal Revenue Service), FBI (Federal Bureau of Investigation), CIA (Central Intelligence Agency), and ATF (Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms) have all investigated me and found nothing to justify a long term interest. He can't identify who's doing the long term surveillance, but is working hard on it. I'm very surprised about what he's found out and told me, I wonder how he's able to find out that much so fast. I show the email to Mum and Dad, and they look just as surprised about his contacts as I am.
In late October revenue since June is five hundred and ten thousand dollars, with a total of around two and a quarter million. I may be able to retire when I graduate high school. Not likely!
One school afternoon I drop the girls off at the shops near the casino before parking and going to it. The shops are beside the casino, but dropping them off saves them a bit of a walk. After parking I walk across the car park to them, they're waiting to kiss me for luck before they start shopping. When I approach a medium sized mini-bus the door slides open and some men get out while some others appear from amongst the cars about us. One waves a wallet at me, saying, “Anian Evans, Department of Homeland Security, come with us.”
I'm very quick to answer in a very loud voice, “Keep your hands off me until I get a good look at all your IDs to prove you're from DHS, or I'll regard this as a kidnapping attempt by impersonators and defend myself.”
One snarls and grabs me. I'm fast to react by contracting the muscle and turning to strike him in the chest, fracturing some ribs before I relax the muscle and pull out of his grasp. The rest are about to jump me when a better dressed man shouts, “Show him the badges, slowly.”
They all do that, one even shows me the ID for the guy on the ground before helping him into another car. In the distance I can see Mary on the phone while she watches me and Peg looks about for people approaching them. The better dressed man says, “Happy?” I nod, “Come with us, we've some questions for you.” They bundle me into the mini-bus and we drive off. While we leave the car park I can see Mary still on the phone and both girls move to watch what's happening for as long as they can watch use.
Back during Summer Break I raised my concerns about kidnapping with Mary and Peg. It took a lot of time, but I did convince them it was best for them to keep out of any such attempt and to report it to the police and our parents, giving as much detail as possible; descriptions, number of people, vehicles, number plates, etc. I later find out they not only called the details to the police while it happened, they also filmed most of it on the cameras in the cell phones. Catching number plates as well as faces. This helps the police to be quick to establish it's the DHS who make off with me, and the local police can do no more.
After a long drive, Santa Fe by the road signs, the mini-bus enters an underground car park. I'm taken to an upstairs interview room. A tape recorder is activated and they ask questions about how I win so much at gambling and what I intend to do with so much money. I tell them I have a new system and I'm winning money to live comfortably on, just like any gambler. They don't like my answers.
At one point they let slip they think I'm raising funds for terrorists. After four hours I'm put in a cell two by two metres with a toilet and basin in one corner and a bunk on the opposite wall. The walls are shiny white, the lights are bright and never turned down or off.
On first entry I take the time to have a very close look at it. I even make a slow walk around the walls close to them, and look hard at the walls, ceiling, and all fittings. Smiling, I lie down and close my eyes to rest while I use my third eye to have a better look at everything from much closer. It takes a while, but I do find the four cameras and two microphones they've got built into the walls and fittings.
I can't follow the wires back because there's no light in the cement, so I start a search pattern to examine every inch of the building. One floor up I find a room where two men are watching the screens from my cameras and the screens of two other empty cells. I give a big smile when I find the ladies showers and change rooms; it must be shift change, because there's a dozen or so nice looking women having showers and getting changed. Naturally I hang around watching until they're all dressed and leaving. On with the search.
I find the team that's been hassling me four floors up and eating pizzas for dinner, I was given a single salad sandwich. I listen while they discuss my case. From their talk it's clear they don't think I'm raising money for terrorists, but they want the details of how I'm winning so often and so much. They figure once they know the system they can make a fortune in Vegas and Atlantic City, the bastards. Their regional director is in on this abuse of their authority for personal gain.
An hour later we've another session. This time I add in the story I gave at the casino about being directed by The Spirits. That earns me a thumping on the way back to the cell. I'd have hit back, except they handcuff me before they take me out of the cell. Every few hours they take me out for another interview. I get damn little chance to have any sleep while there. For four days we go around in circles about the gambling and how I intend to use the money. Same questions, same answers, same abuse and bullshit.
Every chance I get I cast around, searching the building and as far outside as I can reach. I can't find anything to help me communicate with my family. Finally someone drops a cell phone when they get out of a car they park near the building. It's not locked, so I use my Calling skill on it to send a text message to Captain Joules and Bron with my location, cell number, and the name of the lead investigator with a note not to call back. I lift the phone and slip it inside the part open car window to fall on the seat so the owner can find it.
Six hours later I'm being interviewed again when the door opens and the regional director walks in to call the boss man out. A few minutes later he storms in and has them release me, hands me the gear from my pockets, and two agents escort me downstairs.
In the lobby I'm met by Captain Joules and my parents. They take me out to a mini-bus with Cadi, Bron, Mary, and Peg waiting in it. We leave in a hurry. A few minutes later Matt leads me into a State Police station, he hands me a small carry bag and points at the staff showers. I agree with him and have a good, hard, but quick shower. After that I put on the clean clothes in the bag and have a shave, making me feel like a new man because I feel so much better.
On the short trip to get cleaned up I mention I've been living off three sandwiches a day, so the next stop is a food court for some food. While we sit and eat I tell them what happened to me and what I found out about what the official story is, as well as the real story. They tell me what they did to get me free of the DHS clutches.
Once Mary and Peg are told by the local police they can't help they call Bron and tell her what happened. Bron tells them to drive my car back and she calls Mum, Dad, and Matt. Mum calls my lawyer while Matt calls around the State Police stations. After the girls get home and show them the video they gather with my lawyer and call the DHS office in Santa Fe; they get told I'm not in custody. They record the call.
The lawyer contacts the local television station and gives them the videos and phone recording. They confirm the car registrations and then go to air with a news special on the abuse of authority while the lawyer shakes trees as well. They keep hitting brick walls and get nowhere. Things stay that way despite the increasing media coverage, until they get the text message I sent. Using the information in it they get a federal judge to issue a writ of habeas corpus on the two main DHS people, listing the lead investigator and the regional director by name as well as position, along with the DHS itself. It also includes the cell number I'm being kept in. They cave in and hand me over when the writ is delivered by a State Police Captain and a US Marshall. They make it clear they either leave with me or the two named people as being under arrest for contempt of court.
We later find out the regional DHS start an internal investigation into who inside the DHS gave out the information on my holding cell. But they can't find anyone who did it.
When I get home I send Uncle Derfel an update with all the data we have on those involved. He promises to head our way as soon as he can. I find that information very heartening.
Figuring the best defence is a good offence, I give my lawyer a very detailed account of my time with the DHS and we start civil action against the individuals and the department. We hit them all for fifty million dollars compensation each, suing for assault, arrest without due cause or process, breach of civil rights, starvation, lack of privacy, unhygienic conditions, sleep deprivation, mental cruelty, abuse of authority, and attempted theft of confidential commercial information. I'd have loved to see their reactions when served with the court papers. My lawyer also contacts the Department of Justice and tells them about their corruption due to my hearing them talk about this all being about wanting my gambling system so they can use it for their own profit.
We think the Department of Justice starts a corruption investigation; once their people visit and take detailed statements we don't see them again. But we're not worried because we know such an investigation will take time and a lot of tricky work for them to get a result.
One good point is I'm told by the accountant I get paid hourly for the whole time. Since I was detained while on duty and the matter was about my work, then the whole time is work time. This means I get more money direct and the taxes are less because it includes tax free hardship bonuses. It's one way to strike back at the government.
The court cases are put down for a hearing in several months. In the meantime we go back to business as usual while I work hard to catch up on my schooling.
To help build our revenue base I take to visiting the closer casinos straight after school some school days, and having a late dinner after gambling. This boosts my weekly take to seventy-five thousand dollars some weeks and ninety thousand dollars other weeks.
After the DHS trouble Mum and Dad splurge out to take us away for a large combined birthday party on a weekend in mid November. We end up at Atlantic City and I spend half of each day gambling so we can claim some of the costs as work expenses. It's a great holiday, and since we're allowed to include our steady partners it's a real lot of fun for us all. Because these are major casinos I don't visit on a regular basis I limit myself to one hundred thousand for each day and bank just over two hundred thousand dollars after tipping staff.
A check of the bank in early December shows revenue since the DHS trouble at seven hundred and twelve thousand dollars, making one million two hundred and twenty thousand for the year, so far.
One thing we all find odd about all these government investigations is they've got files which includes the information from my passport and thus have me real age. They have to know I'm not old enough to legally gamble, yet they never ask me about that. I do wonder if they never look at the age or just assume it's wrong. I can understand the IRS being only concerned about the income and tax rates, but I would've expected the FBI to worry about a breach of the gambling laws. But the investigators never raise the question. I do wonder if they think it's bad data because the file includes my concealed carry licence number.
The weekend before Christmas I'm headed to the Santa Ana Star Casino with Paul, Cadi, Bron, Mary, Peg, Bradley, and Peter for some fun and frolic at the resort while Paul and I gamble. Because of the size of the party I'm driving a hired mini-bus.
For the first time in several weeks I notice we're being followed. I warn everyone, and also warn them to run for their lives if anyone in dark suits approaches them. Bron gets out her cell phone and calls Matt, telling him where we are, where we're going, and what's going on. He promises to send us support.
Due to my expectations about the DHS grabbing me again I'm not armed, but Bron and Cadi are, so is Paul.
When we reach the casino car park I notice a number of the vans I saw at the DHS car park on my last visit. Instead of parking I keep rolling and power through the car park, heading out onto the street again. Catching most of them still parked while they're getting out of the vehicles to grab me on foot. If they want me, this time they can chase me. Bron updates Matt with the situation.
I head down the road at the maximum legal speed. Keeping at the speed limit I push the mini-bus to its limits as I slide around corners while heading to a nearby mall, with the DHS chasing us. While I drive, I say, “When I stop outside the mall I want you girls to race like the wind into the mall and get lost, so those scum can't catch you. Boys, hold together and run interference until the girls get out of sight, if you can, then split up to the four winds. Hopefully, they'll follow me in the mini-bus since they know I'm driving. Good luck.” They nod agreement while they get ready to jump out of the mini-bus.
A few minutes later I stop as close as I can get to the main entrance of the mall, can't get closer because there's a lot of people about. They all bail out and the girls run for the entrance. The boys form a block behind the girls. I burn rubber getting out of there. When I make a turn at the end of the row I see I made a mistake, they're after us all this time.
One sedan drives across the footpath to block the girls and two men jump out with guns while another car does the same behind the boys. Two more cars are seeking to cut me off.
I toss glances at the entrance while I weave through the car park. As I do I send a prayer of thanks for the extra training Matt gave us. When they see the guns Bron and Cadi drop to their knees and pull their own out. No messing about at all, they both take quick aim and shoot the armed men in front of them then turn and plug the two behind them by shooting past the boys; all are good solid high percentage centre of body mass in the guts shots. The four are down and the girls are off like Olympic runners with the boys splitting up in all directions. The people at the mall entrance add to the confusion by screaming and running in all directions when they hear the gunfire.
The mini-bus gets hit by one of the cars trying to cut me off while I charge for the gap they're closing. I just scrape through and hear a crash because the car behind me doesn't. Yeah team, lets see those arse holes hide this one from the media and the public. I'm heading for the exit when I hear sirens coming from all directions while a DHS car tries to beat me to the exit I'm headed for.
Nearing the exit I put the mini-bus into a controlled slide and hit the DHS car just as it turns into the exit. Side to side we hit together, but my heavier vehicle with the greater momentum has no trouble in pushing their sedan into the parked cars, and I'm headed out of the car park at the maximum legal speed.
I head away from the casino because there's a lot of unaccounted for DHS cars that have to be still heading this way from there. I pass several police cars and a couple of ambulances while I drive down the road. I get a few stares from the police, probably due to the damage on the vehicle, but since I'm not speeding away they keep heading to the trouble. They must think it's unrelated to their call.
I laugh when I see one of the DHS cars speeding down the road get pulled over by the police. It looks like we may get out of this without too much trouble.
Damn, two DHS vans pull out of a side street and block the road with a third stopping behind them in a two layer blockage. Well, screw the lot of them. With a huge grin I put my foot down and accelerate as much as I can before I slam into the middle of the line so all three vans get wrecked, the back of the front one, the front of the back one, and the side of the middle one. I hear a scream of metal and the air bag explodes in my face just before I pass out.
I get real worried when Ani tells me about the tail. When we pull into the casino car park I see so many of the DHS vans I just know they want all of us. I smile because Ani is so quick to pull out, driving off fast and giving us orders to vanish. While he drives down the road I check my gun while Bron calls Matt again, then Ani's lawyer, and Mum. Bron is checking her gun while she talks.
Heck, we're only doing the legal limit, but it sure feels like we're speeding because Ani pushes the mini-bus around corners at the maximum safe speed. I take off my seat belt and open the door, ready to leave when Ani stops. The bus screeches to a halt and I jump out, hitting the ground running, Bron is soon by my side with Mary and Peg coming up alongside her while we run to the entrance four abreast.
A car skids across the path about fifteen metres in front of us and two men jump out. I can hear another car jump the gutter behind us just as the two men in front pull out guns. I remember what Captain Matt taught us, and yell, “Bellies Bron,” while I draw my gun and shoot the man in the stomach without any hesitation, and Bron fires as well. In the split second I take to aim I can see the man hesitate, and understand what the Captain said when he told us to be mentally ready to fire before we reach for the gun. Having dealt with the threat in front I call, “Behind us,” and spin around to check it's clear.
In the time between my head and my body coming around I can see the boys to my left and two men at a car behind and a little to my right of the boys, the men are drawing guns. Aiming for another belly I fire again, and hear an instant echo when Bron fires too. Good shooting, if I do say so myself; two rounds each, two scumbags down each. I send Captain Matt a mental thank you; we both instinctively followed his training, go for the bad guy on your side.
I smile when Bron shouts, “Boys, scatter. Girls, follow me.” We slip our guns away while we charge for the mall entrance. No special sale has ever made us run to a mall as fast as this. We race around the car and the wounded men between us and the mall entrance.
In the mall we sprint down the main access and up the escalator to the next level. When we dart to the side, Bron says, “We need to get out the side or a back entrance.”
I tell her, “No, Bron. They'll flood the area with people expecting us to do that. We need to get arrested by the State Police.”
Bron turns, and gives me a huge smile, “Smart thinking, Sis.”
Seeing the food court I wave us over to that. We slow down and look over who's there while we get something light to eat. I smile when I see two State Police officers listening to their hand held radio while they walk into and through the court from a rear entrance. They're crossing the floor at a fast walk.
I head towards them, with the others following. We block their path, and one says, “Excuse me, girls, but we urgently need to reach the front of the mall.”
I smile, and say, “No, actually, you urgently need to provide us with armed security by arresting us for leaving the scene of an incident.” They stop and look at us. I get out my concealed carry licence and show it to them before showing them the gun. “My sister and I are licensed and armed. Some men tried to kidnap us out the front when our brother dropped us off. He'd hoped they'd follow him, but some of them stopped to chase us. When they pulled out guns we shot them and ran away before more of them could arrive. These other two girls are our accomplices and should be arrested too. You should also tell Captain Joules you've caught us and are keeping us in your custody.” They both look a bit shocked.
One gives a sudden smile, and says, “Ladies, you're all under arrest for the misuse of firearms in a public place. Come with me.” The other is talking on the radio while they turn around and lead us out the back entrance to their State Police car. I think it's funny, we're under arrest for misuse of a firearm, they know we're armed, but they don't take the guns from us. We four get in the back seat of their cruiser and they lock the doors before getting in the front seats.
They drive around the front, and it's really chaotic there. Police cars everywhere, ambulances, and men in dark suits with frowns. They stop to talk to another State Police officer. When one of the men in suits spots us and walks over he flashes a badge and demands the police hand us over. The senior officer in the car smiles at him, and says, “These are my prisoners. When I've finished processing them you can lodge for a change of jurisdiction and sign for them. But not until then.” The suit starts to argue, so the State Police officer just drives off.
I smile when we drive out, because I can see the boys getting in a taxi. We wave while we go by, and they wave back. When we pull out into the street I look down the road, and can see the mini-bus in a multi-car accident with ambulances near it. I ask, “Any news about that?”
The officer driving says, “Witnesses say the vans came out of the side street and deliberately blocked the road on the mini-bus. The bus saw them and accelerated into the vans, causing the crash. Another van pulled up and they dragged the driver of the bus out while others checked the men in the vans. The fourth van drove off while two men started to aid those hurt in the vans. Five going to hospital out of that lot. And the four you shot are off to intensive care. From what I hear they were damn fine shots, some of the City Police saw you shoot the men, while they were entering the car park when it happened. Anyway, we're off to the Albuquerque State Police Headquarters and not the local station, likes those guys think. We'll drive that way to encourage their thinking.” At the headquarters we meet Captain Matt and tell him all about the events of today.
I enter the DHS State Headquarters office of Regional Director Johnson, and say, “What the fuck is Max doing down there? The reports are four in intensive care with gunshot wounds to the stomach, they'll live, but will likely get a medical retirement, seven more in hospital from car accidents are likely to be laid up for two or three weeks, and six vehicles to be written off due to car accidents. The media and local cops are all over it. And it seems we only got the boy again, none of the others we can use as leverage on him. How long do you think before they turn up with another federal warrant for him?”
Johnson says, “Cool it, John, I don't think they can name us and issue another warrant this time because they've no evidence we got him, just that DHS tried to get him. We can sweat him for weeks now because there's evidence neither Senior Officer Fellows or Regional Director Johnson were in the city when it happened. We're both in the clear on this and they don't know for sure who has him.”
“I don't know. I'm already hearing the governor will be looking into this and the director is already asking questions about it. Oh hell, the damage is done. Let's get what we want from him and dump him.”
A few hours later a van arrives and the prisoner is placed in cell two after being checked by a doctor. He tells me, “You won't be able to talk to him for about twelve to twenty-four hours. He's got a mild concussion and that prolongs the effect of the drugs given him to keep him quiet. Heck, if the concussion is worse than I think he may be in a coma for days or weeks.” The information isn't well received by me or those I have to pass it on to.
I'm in my office with a middle aged man talking about our work when the phone rings. I answer it, then switch to the conference phone on the table between us. A voice says, “I'll keep it short. Subject taken by DHS to Santa Fe. How they got him is on the news. They screwed up real bad, so they must want him real bad. Call me with orders.”
I hang up the phone and go to a cabinet, opening it up to reveal a television set, turning it on I flick across the news channels. They all have the story of a major cluster fuck in Albuquerque, New Mexico.
After watching it for several minutes the other man picks up the phone and calls a number. When it's answered, he says, “DHS Santa Fe office, set up conversation starters. I'm going calling.” After hanging up he turns to me, “Can you have someone ready to visit them with me, please? I think I need to talk to them very strongly.” I nod. “Thanks, mate. I need to see this sorted before I take on any more work.” Another nod. Standing, he turns, and leaves with a steady pace that eats up the ground. While he walks down the hall I look at my title on the door, I've often looked at that and thought about the power it represents. Today I wonder if it does represent any power, because one of my best workers just told me what he's going to do and what I'm doing to help, regardless of how I feel about it. All of a sudden the position of Director of the CIA doesn't seem so powerful.
I pick up a phone and make a call, passing on orders. Walking out of my office I tell my personal assistant waiting for me, “What the hell did those DHS idiots think they were doing messing with his family! We'll be lucky if we can contain this at all.” We both shake our heads and move to the many other things we need to deal with today.
At twenty-five minutes past ten the day after the car chase near the Santa Ana Star Casino I walk in the DHS Headquarters in Santa Fe with an average looking man. I'm of average height and of a thin build while he's just below average height and thick set, solid looking. We're both in neat business dress, wearing sun glasses, and with briefcases; we look like typical federal bureaucrats, except for the way he walks across the floor - he seems to glide like a great cat prowling for prey.
We approach the security desk, and I say, “Jason Black, I've a ten thirty appointment with Regional Director Johnson. Please call him and tell him we're here to talk to him. He can either approve us to enter the building without being searched while armed, or he can talk to us here in the lobby. It won't take long.” The guard makes a call, he listens, and waves us to take seats.
A few minutes later Regional Director Johnson walks out to shake hands with me. I say, “Director Johnson, my role today is to introduce you to this man, Derfel Evans, and to make sure you know he means exactly what he says and can do whatever he says he wants to do. I'm here as the direct representative of the Director of the CIA, and we're acting only as a means for you two to make contact.” I sit down, and Johnson looks a bit worried; I see the name Evans isn't lost on him.
Derfel says, “Johnson, I know you have my cousin, Anian Cartier Evans, in your custody at the moment.” Opening up the briefcase he takes out photos of Anian being removed from the mini-bus and put in a van, they're time stamped. So are the photos of the van on the road and it entering the DHS building in Santa Fe. “My people saw you take him and followed his move to here. Now I want him back, because I regard him as my heir, he's like a son to me. I also want you to leave him alone from now on. You'll leave all my family members and their friends alone from now on.”
Johnson is sweating while he tries to work out exactly what this man represents and why we in the CIA are helping him. He says, “A young man was brought in yesterday, but he was released during the night.”
Derfel takes out a phone and makes a call, “Control, mobile lead. Status.” We listen to a person say, 'Still inside,' all three of us can hear the statement. He opens the briefcase and takes out more photos, several of Johnson, some of Fellows, some of Max Ball, and some of the other agents in this with him. Each photo is a head shot with a time stamp within the last forty-eight hours and shows a sniper's cross-hairs on the temple of the person in the photo. “When I or my people next have to look closely at you or these people it won't be to take photos. Give me my cousin and keep away from him and his family.”
Johnson gulps, and says, “I told you, he left.”
Derfel says into the phone, “Control, demonstration, your choice, no harm to people, but make it costly.” We sit there, waiting. A moment later we hear a distant muffled bang like noise and alarms ring.
A security guard checks his board, and says, “Shit! Harry, get the fire service. One of the vans exploded in level three car park and took a dozen other department cars with it.” Johnson sits there, sweating.
Another short wait, Derfel says, “Hit his office.”
Johnson looks up at Derfel. A moment later the phone rings and a guard answers it, he looks up, calling out, “Director Johnson, someone just shot out your main window, your computer monitor, your chair, and most of your bookcase.” Johnson waves acknowledgement.
“Johnson, so far you've only irritated me. You don't want to piss me off. Now, do you want a live demonstration of an urban assault on this building by a company of special forces troops, or do I get Anian?”
A very shocked Johnson takes out his cell phone and makes a phone call. A few minutes later two agents carry out a Stokes stretcher with Anian Evans in it. They place it on the floor near us.
Derfel stands and makes a hand signal. In a moment a school bus roars up to stop in front of the building and two squads of combat troops enter. They cover everyone while medics go to the stretcher. They examine the boy, and one looks up, saying, “Mild concussion with a slight drug induced coma. He should recover OK, Colonel.” Johnson gulps at the mention of rank while he looks at the soldiers. They've no shoulder patches on, so he doesn't know what unit they come from.
Derfel says, “Thank you, Captain. Does he need to go to hospital?” A head shake no. “Good, see he's safely removed to his family home. We'll give you a nice lead, and follow.” When they lift the stretcher he turns to Johnson, “You'll pay for all the damages from yesterday's fiasco and pay the others you chased compensation of a hundred thousand dollars each for what your people did to them, also settle out of court on his law suits for half a million dollars. Otherwise I'll come back here and tear this building down while you're still in it.” Derfel places the photos back in his briefcase and watches while they carry his cousin out to the bus. It drives off and another pulls up. He turns to me, “Bet you didn't know I had a full company of Dragons on shore and fully armed.” I shake my head. “Now you know why the director doesn't get angry when I refuse a mission. He knows my intelligence system is better than his.” He turns to Johnson, “Johnson, Black as far as my family are concerned the DHS is a terrorist group and not a valid arm of the government. All future attempts to kidnap or harm my family or their friends will be met with full resistance. Keep away and there'll be no trouble. If you start this war, I can promise we'll finish it.” Turning, he strides out of the building to the bus. The troops fold in behind him and mount up. The bus drives off.
Johnson turns to look at me. I say, “Ex Australian Army Special Air Service, now controls a mercenary operation that contracts to the CIA, MI5, and a few others. He picks and chooses the operations. He's as hard as nails. I don't know why your computer checks didn't ring our alarm bells, or didn't you try to check the family out fully? Get him after you and we can't help you, nor can the FBI, or the Army. He's just too damn good. In Afghanistan they call him Death Evans, short from Sudden Death. Please do us all a favour and leave that boy and the family alone. He's our best weapon against terrorists, and you look like getting him started on making war on us.” Shaking my head, I turn and walk away while a frightened Johnson walks to the elevators and goes back to his ruined office. I notice the security guards wait until the elevator is gone before they talk about what happened.
I'm surprised to wake up in my own bed with a uniformed medic watching me while being supervised by Mary and Peg. The medic stands, and calls out, “He's awake, Sir.” Movement in the hall, then all of my family walk in with Uncle Derfel. They all smile while the medic does some basic checks of my health.
Uncle says, “When you think he's up to it we need to talk as a group, in the lounge room.” The medic nods and gives me a tablet to take with a glass of water. It reduces the headache a lot, so I thank her.
I'm a bit unsteady on my feet when I get out of bed. The medic smiles when Mary and Peg have no concerns about undressing to help me take a shower. Several minutes later I'm washed and dried while my girls play dress up with me, and are enjoying it way too much.
Once dressed I get another set of checks, and am allowed to go to the lounge room with my twin nurses in attendance. Uncle Derfel smiles when I walk in with two lovely girls under my arms holding me up. He says, “I've told the DHS Regional Director this family regards the DHS as a terrorist organisation and we'll resist all future attempts to kidnap us or our friends to the maximum we're capable of. He wasn't happy. I also told him to pay out compensation for yesterday and to pay for the damages. The media are having a field day and the DHS is likely to have some explaining to do to the Senate and Congress. If we're lucky, they may change the laws they operate under.”
I look around the room and see a few people I don't know, most are in military fatigues. One is sitting by Uncle Derfel, and smiling. He says, “Excuse me, Sir, but I know you haven't reviewed the videos from yesterday yet, so I'd like to mention we should recruit all three when they're old enough.”
Uncle looks at him and raises an eyebrow. “Why, Major?”
“When we came down to take up observation we did the routine checks and found out about some earlier events. Both Bronwyn and Anian have had Evasive Driver Training and keep an eye out for tails. So we set up with static and semi-static observation.”
He stops when I put up my hand, “What's that mean, please?”
“In static observation we set up a post and watch from a medium distance, noting who enters and leaves, and what happens; ready to go in if we think we're needed. Otherwise we leave them be. Semi-static is where we have posts set up out of view of the other posts, but where they can pick up the moving target before the other loses them. It includes various forms of transport so we can establish a moving box of people to race ahead and watch which way the target goes at an intersection. Since they stay still until well after the target's moved on the target doesn't usually associate them with observation points. By setting up before the target reaches a point we hope to keep them from realising they're being watched and tailed. It takes a lot of people, but pays off. We've been watching you for four weeks.”
“Heck, it sure works. I didn't notice your people at all, but picked up the DHS people as soon as they set up again.”
“Just so, Anian. Anyway, we kept wide of you and them, but ran some interference yesterday. It was limited due to orders not to use weapons. Now where was I, yes, yesterday. The mall security cameras have some lovely footage of the girls in action. I've seen professionals with worse responses than the girls had. But I'll go back. As soon as they started moving we could tell Anian picked up on the DHS tails. At the casino he spotted them all when he pulled in. He quickly worked out they were looking for a full bag of everyone after the last media blow up by members left free to watch. With no hesitation at all, he drove out and went to a very public place with people in the street. Stayed within the speed limit, but pushed the vehicle hard. Dropped the others off and tried to run a diversion. When they cut him off with three vehicles he immediately saw he couldn't avoid the crash, so he maximised it by accelerating into them. That put all of those vehicles out of action, himself as well. At the mall Bronwyn and Cadi saw them cut them off by driving across the footpath. When the men pulled out guns they didn't hesitate at all. Their guns came out, acquired, and fired for high percentage shots from crouching two handed grips without stopping. They spin around and check their backs, taking out two more of their enemies in very smooth fire actions. Turn back and sprint away. Inside they immediately find some State Police and show their permits before telling their story and getting arrested. Thus ensuring the State Police can take them out of there, despite what the DHS want. It's hard to find people who can evaluate and respond so quickly and so correctly. Very good work by all three.”
Uncle smiles, “Well, Anian, Bronwyn, Cadi, it's rare for Major Erwin to speak so well of someone, so you must've really impressed him. I must watch that video later. But that's all for the future. One of my people will measure you up for bullet resistant vests, wear them at all times from now on, please. These are civilian legal, but only just. The people after Anian are part of an organisation called The One State Group or The Group. It's made up of right wing extremists, many in the various US government authorities and like-minded politicians. They want to eliminate all state power and make one all-powerful federal government run along more totalitarian lines. They feel what they want they get, end of story. I knew, after yesterday, they'd play dirty if I didn't get you back quick, so I played hard ball. Even after I blew up cars in their high security garage and had the Director's office shot up they weren't going to release you. I was within sixty seconds of having a company of special forces assaulting the building when they coughed you up. I had a special representative of the CIA along to introduce us and explain I don't say anything unless I mean it. They're now royally pissed at you and me. They know the CIA will stay out of this, and so will the Army. They also now know I control the Dragons, and are busy seeing what they can find out about them - which will be little. But there's blood in the water and the sharks are gathering. You have to watch yourself now. Exactly what is it they want from you?”
Mum and Dad look shocked when uncle mentions what he did to get me out, I think we're all a bit shocked by it. Still shocked, I say, “I've a way to win at Craps that's ninety percent accurate.”
Major Erwin says, “Sir, our observers put the observed winning at ninety-one point four to ninety-two point six percent per session on the rate of wins they've seen.”
Uncle Derfel looks at me, “If you drop the bets you deliberately lose, what's the percentage.” The others gasp while I smile.
“Ninety-nine percent, I can't guarantee one hundred percent because other factors can throw something off, but observations to date have been one hundred percent of intended win bets winning.”
“It must be driving them crazy trying to work out how you do that. It also explains why they're so intent on finding out how. You have to see you don't get taken by them again. Understand me!”
“Know the on-line tactics and strategy game you taught me to play a couple of years back.”
He nods, “I'm doing OK, but notice your character hasn't been active for over a year. Given up on it?”
I smile, “No, I still play, but with a new character. Next time I see those DHS scum it's no more Mister Nice Guy High School Kid. Next time we butt heads I'll see how they like meeting The Diamond.”
Uncle Derfel laughs, “That roaring son of a bitch is you?” I smile and nod. “Give it to them son, give it to them good.”
Major Erwin says, “I think I missed that, Sir!”
“In my spare time I've been playing a role playing game based on a combination of first person shooter and team management of military strategy and tactics for a few years. I introduced Anian to it two years ago. For the last six months I've been leading a team of people that's been butting heads with a team headed by a newish character called The Diamond. So far it's an even match. Personally, I think he should be slightly ahead because he has more newbies on his team than I do, but his tactics are better than mine and counter that. This young fellow is that demon.” The major smiles, and nods at me.
“Anian, in a few days you'll have to appear before the media and tell them what happened. Between the three of you over a dozen DHS people are in hospital, five or six will be medically retired due to the injuries received. I want the media pressure on the DHS maintained.”
We all nod agreement while we smile at the thought of putting the media pressure on them.
After that one of his people takes measurements of all of us.
The next afternoon, while at the pistol range, I thank Matt for his help and ask him to thank his people for us. I also ask him to get us six more guns. I want us all to have two and I want three, with five spare magazines each. He has them for me two days later and I pay for them.
Five days after the mess at Santa Ana we all have bullet resistant vests and carry all our guns when we head out to a media interview. It goes well while we explain our side of things and point out we had no way of knowing the kidnappers were from the DHS, because they never identified themselves and none had uniforms on. We explain how we've done nothing wrong, how the DHS hasn't accused us of any crimes or wrong behaviour. I make a point of saying I now regard them as a criminal or terrorist organisation not an arm of the government, and will not respond to any request from them in the future. This gets a strong reaction from the media people.
I sit with forty-four powerful people from various government and private organisations in Washington, we're in a high security meeting room. We sit down and open the files in front of us and read them. The chairman says, “George, what can you tell us about this Derfel Evans and The Dragons?”
A Deputy Director of the CIA replies, “Not much. There's no file on the computer or in the records room on them. The only references I can find are mostly cryptic. Derfel Evans, also known as Sudden Death or Death, was a very effective operator and leader in the Australian Special Air Service, primarily working in strike or recovery teams. He worked his way from private to captain and was promoted to major before being allowed to retire early as a favour to the US government. The Director of the CIA requested his release so he can be employed to head a private security company - The Dragons. The unit is officially a security group with federal authority to use military weapons, even within the USA. They've been hired by the CIA, Secret Service, the National Security Council, and such groups from allied governments, including Australia, Canada, Israel, France, the United Kingdom, and Spain. They all have top level security clearances issued by the NSC, no computer records, and the paper files are retained by the head of the NSC. Some operational files have a mention of a task assigned to The Dragons and being done well. From what I can infer from the size of past operations they seem to have about five or six hundred people who work as intelligence agents, and six hundred and fifty combat troops. Nationalities of the staff are unknown, apart from Evans; he's an Australian. It's my evaluation this is a special intelligence and combat unit created by the NSC years ago and they loan it out to reduce costs and keep up skills. They wouldn't normally get involved with us except we want someone their boss is close to.”
The chairman says, “Damn, how badly do we need this boy?”
Our research specialist says, “We wish we knew. If we had any idea of what he's actually doing, or how he does it, I could probably answer that. The best guess is he's a genius and well ahead of everyone. Look, it's this way. Gambling and tactics are similar, they both depend on you identifying and evaluating the various factors present, working out probabilities, sorting out likely responses, and then taking action. Any good gambler is also a good tactician. Strategy is similar as well, but takes into account more variables and unknown factors, making it more like guessing. Every gambling system known to us requires the user to bet on all the incidents meeting the system's criteria, and some have low match rates. This lad has a system where we can't work out the criteria he's using, and he only places single bets at a time. It's like he's worked out more variables we can't see or his system uses a totally new method to predict an acceptable probability on each throw. If this is so, it's a major change to existing theories. Our observations all support this as he wins more than existing theories can account for. They also support the idea he bets to lose at times, so he won't look too good to be let in; and this shows a good understanding of the dynamics of the casino away from the table. He bets at Craps, one of the simplest to play but the hardest to work out a viable system other than a basic one with a low probability of success or to cheat at, unless using loaded dice. In theory, if you include every possible variable like all air movements at the table, how the thrower holds the dice and releases them, muscle strength and movements, etc. you can calculate exactly what the throw will be; but most of those variables are total unknowns.” He sips water.
And adds, “So it comes down to two possibilities: either he uses telekinesis and cheats by controlling the fall of the dice; or he's a genius with a new approach that puts everything else to shame. Our scientists have proven some people have telekinetic skills, but their brains don't have enough power to influence dice in action like that, which leaves the second alternative as the most likely. Not only is his new approach beyond our current abilities; it's clearly not just a minor advance, but a very major one. That approach could give us the foundation to build a far more effective Game Theory based strategy generator, as you know, they're very probabilistic. It would give us an overwhelming advantage in many conflicts. Imagine if our forces in all fields could increase their performance to the same level his exceeds what's normally possible at a craps table. With that boy we could advance our plans by decades, once we learn his system or brainwash him. To be complete, we haven't been able to rule out the possibility he's using telekinesis, as unlikely as that is. If he is, we still need to know how it works and to control him and it, so we need to get our hands on him, in either case.”
For the next hour we discuss the situation and the boy Anian Cartier Evans. We discuss how to remove the protection currently provided by his uncle, too.
The discussion ends when I say, “I think we can agree we need to have this boy to find out how he does what he does, and then make use of it for ourselves. I think it's best for us to continue to use the DHS to get him because every other resource we have in the area will need to go through the courts to get arrest warrants, and we can't justify them. I suggest we let them think they've won, wait until he graduates and take him then. As a back-up we should move extra-legal resources into the area between now and then. If the DHS fail again the back-up resources can eliminate them to stop leaks and take the boy, then transport him to the labs in Boston.”
The chairman says, “I think Senator Quinn has a good plan there, let's go with it.” The rest soon agree and we move to the next item on the agenda.
Uncle Derfel stays for Christmas and New Year, but has to leave soon after for a job he has on. Studies and gambling continue after the Winter Break, which is very low key holiday due to security reasons.
Just before he leaves Uncle Derfel and I talk a lot about what we expect the enemy to do. We agree they're unlikely to do much before graduation, but likely to hit sometime after that, hoping we've slacked off. I ask him, “Uncle, do you have any people who're about to retire from combat roles due to not quite being up to the fitness you need?” He nods, and gives me an odd look. “I'm a rich man now and wish to set up my own house with its own staff. That means cooks, guards, drivers, etc. I'd rather pay a bit more and hire people who fight well too.” He smiles, and promises to have Major Erwin contact me.
Last week I noticed a property that's for sale, strong high walls and gates. They want half a million for it unfurnished. I buy it after talking to Mum and Dad. We move in at the end of January; after Major Erwin organises some security guards, gardeners, housekeeper, cook, maid, and two drivers. Most are retired Dragons and some are their spouses. He also organises a large upgrade of the security system for the whole property. It's all done in a way to keep the work unknown to others.
I set Mum, Bron, Cadi, Mary, and Peg loose to decorate and furnish the new house at my expense. It makes them all very happy to be shopping while spending my money and not their own.
I mention I want a more up market car to carry most of us, so Erwin organises the purchase of an armoured car, a flash thing that looks like a cross between a Hummer and a stretch limo, but not quite either. It has a high ground clearance, big motor, low centre of gravity, and seats ten in the back. I get two of them, and have them painted a nice tan colour to blend in with the local scrub if we need to hide it. My normal car is now used by the staff, and they love it. For uniformity we all carry the same firearm and spare magazines - the Glock G20C.
After we move house I use my new car and driver all the time. He's a deceptive looking fellow, small and thin, but strong and fast. He's got a lung problem that means he can't keep up on a field operation now.
My accountant tells me to hire a good bookkeeper / office manager to run an office for me in the new house. So I do, Major Erwin has her checked out and passed; she and her family live in one of the several units in the staff housing behind the house. I like the arrangement since I hire Maggie Manning. Making it easier for me to see and spend time with Peg and Mary, while it also brings them inside our security screen.
The house also has an indoor pistol range; so we can all get in lots of practice without anyone knowing, because it's underground below the main house. Our own gym and an indoor swimming pool makes the house just perfect. There's little reason for us to leave the grounds now, except for school and work . That'll make it harder on the kidnappers.
Senior final exams come up and are passed, and it's time to coast to the graduation ceremony. With more time on my hands I take Paul and the girls to the casinos more often, sometimes hitting two a day; one in the morning and early afternoon, followed by another in the late afternoon and evening - with a nice dinner in the casino.
Between Christmas and the start of Summer Break we've no more trouble from the DHS. They pay up on our compensation claims, half a million for me, which I use it to buy the house, and a hundred thousand each for all of the others involved. During this period I also add two million dollars to the company revenue; three and a quarter of a million for the year to date.
In the first week of the Summer Break we take a private plane to Las Vegas for three days in the middle of the week. No parents, just us kids and Paul. The girls have a blast with the shows and the malls; they've money and want to spend some, so they do. I hit the casinos, two a day, and rake in a hundred thousand in each session because these aren't my regular casinos. Adding well over six hundred thousand to the bank account. I wait to the morning of the third day to bank the bulk of the money won.
While we sit in the private plane waiting area I watch arriving plane passengers through the glass wall, and smile when I recognise a few DHS people arriving just as we're about to leave. I hope they enjoy the flight and wasting their time to come here.
During June I win a bit over nine hundred thousand dollars at the various casinos. The annual total becomes four million, two hundred and fifteen thousand dollars.
Just after this Maggie is putting together some reports, and has a close look at the figures. She calls me over and we have a talk. She always liked me and felt I was good for the girls, but is shocked to learn how rich I am from gambling.
Due to concerns about tax levels and expenses we cap my income and per diem at four hundred thousand in any one year. After the taxes and other expenses we've three million to distribute. Mum and Dad shake their heads and smile when they see their income reports of three hundred thousand, while Bron and Cadi grin for a week after seeing their annual summaries of one hundred and fifty thousand dollars each, and all for doing nothing.
Bron is very happy because she's eighteen and controls her money now, while Cadi has another two years to go.
My cut is two million and one hundred thousand dollars, plus the per diem and wages of four hundred thousand, and my half million compensation; totalling three million dollars for the year. After buying the house and everything else I still have just over three and a quarter million dollars in the bank. This worries me, so I've a word with the accountant and we move two million offshore to a Swiss bank account, opening the account through their office in New York. Mum and Dad also open an account and transfer half a million to Switzerland. They've got just over eight hundred thousand from me, and a fair share of their wages left in their bank accounts, so this isn't a big issue for them.
The transfers trigger another round of visits from the IRS and FBI. I explain my ongoing concerns with the abuse of authority by the DHS and am simply putting the bulk of my funds where they can't hurt me by stopping the accounts. I even set up a system to allow the FBI to get transaction reports so they can see what goes in and out of it. This ends their concerns I may be involved with law breakers.
When we move into mid July I sit the family and our staff down while I explain I think we're now entering a new period of danger from the DHS and the people behind them. If I've read their strategy right they expect us to let our guard down. I have to go out to work, so do Mum and Dad, while the Bron and Cadi have to go to school. I explain I want Bron and Cadi to travel only in one of the armoured cars with a guard and driver, they'll even keep a watch at school when it starts. Mum and Dad have their own armoured car and driver now. Mum got to like being driven around and wants it most of the time, so they'll be OK. I ask Mary and Peg to travel only in an armoured car with one of us or stay at the house, they moved in with me last week. All agree with me.
During this period Major Erwin hands me a list of casinos and hotels they know to be owned by people involved with The Group so I can target them with my gambling and reduce their revenue.
A week after our talk I notice we're being followed again and some others are following the followers, but I know they can't be Uncle's people because they've been around all the time and I can't spot them. I let Major Erwin know about the followers, and tell him my plans for the coming week. He smiles, and agrees with me.
I sit the family down and tell them about the tails, asking them to stay very close to the house and take extra care. I also ask Mary and Peg to stay in the house for the next two weeks while I'm away in Las Vegas. They're not happy, but agree to stay safe.
The next day I ring up and make a booking to stay at a target list hotel in Las Vegas for the week starting Monday night, arriving late.
Early the following Monday morning I send Mark and Bob, my driver and in transit guard, out to fill up all the tanks of the car. The armoured car has five tanks, but we usually only fill the one for around town because there's no point in expending fuel just to drag it around town. I also tell him to load the boot with the special tools Uncle Derfel left in the garage. Both my guards smile at that, I think they miss the action. When they get back I've two bags ready and they've their travel bags ready too. These are loaded in the boot of the car by Mark while Bob gets us some drinks and eats for on the road. I smile when we drive out the gate. Until now all gambling visits out of town have been by plane, I wonder how they'll respond to my going by car all the way.
We figure it'll be a ten to twelve hour drive going out Highway 40 to Kingman and then cut up to Las Vegas, but we like the idea of taking our watchers for a ride. When we head West instead of South we figure they'll work out we're not leaving via Sunport Airport and expect us to go to Double Eagle II Airport. They seem worried when talking on the radio after we pass the turn off for Double Eagle.
By the time we're passing through Milan some more have caught up with us and we've four cars behind us. At Milan we lose the first car for a while, I figure they need fuel. We keep driving along with our extra long range tanks, they keep rotating who falls out to refill. We give them a break by stopping to refill at Flagstaff. We've a enough fuel to go all the way to Vegas, but I don't want them to know our true range or arrive there with almost empty tanks. At Kingman we leave Highway 40 and switch to Route 66, following that to Route 93. When we leave Kingman they seem to be doing a lot of talking on the radio, so we open up and push the speed a bit more. Just North of Grasshopper Junction we pass some very odd looking road works while they're still getting set up with barricades etc.
Bob grins, and says, “I think we upset their planned ambush here.” I nod agreement and we continue North West. I don't want them to hit us until we reach our ambush site. But we may not have that luxury.
It's been a long day and getting towards the end when we pull up to stretch our legs and look at the wonders of Lake Mead and Hoover Dam. There's a few cars in the car park when we stop. Mark backs us into a spot and we get out. We have a slow wander over to stare at the water for a few minutes while we talk. More cars pull into the car park and a few leave. When we turn to walk back most of the cars there when we arrived have left, and nearly all the new cars have people sitting in them or standing near them. Mark goes to the car a bit faster to open the boot and get a large flask out. He places it on the ground beside the boot and opens what looks like a hamper.
Bob goes ahead of me to open the door of my car. When he reaches it a dozen cars in the car park have their doors fling open whiles men pour out of the cars and more men head towards us from the sides. All three of us are hit in the chest with stun guns, but I feel nothing through the vest. We all whip our pistols out and open fire. We go for chest high kill shots.
The men charging at us are surprised when we don't go down, but open fire at them instead. Several are down with heavily renovated chests before they get their guns out. Mark has a helmet on and calls to me. I stop to catch and fit my helmet before I help him cover Bob while he slips his on. About a dozen men are now down and a lot of lead is headed our way from people in or beside vehicles. Mark yells again, and I put my pistol away while I turn to accept his next offering. I smile when I catch the locked and loaded AA-12 semi-automatic shotgun with an attached thirty-two round magazine of 12 gauge double 'O' buckshot, followed by a bag with spare magazines for it.
While I turn back to the car nearest us I hear Bob scream. I put a few rounds in the nearest car and watch three men drop from sight, I figure they're now bleeding all over the inside of the car. The car panels may provide some protection from most pistol rounds, but they're just like tissue paper to this baby. I yell, “Mark, see to Bob and get him in the car, now !” I target the next car in line and give it three quick rounds while I hear Mark run to Bob. I hear a pistol fire from them while I pepper a third car, so I figure Bob is shooting while Mark treats his wounds.
I turn and check our rear, putting several rounds into a few cars and men down that way. When I turn back I hear full automatic rifle fire from off towards the highway. Glancing over, I see a couple of trucks with soldiers lining the sides while they fire on the men shooting at us. A couple of minutes and the auto fire stops. I stand there, looking around, while some soldiers are quick to move across the road and check out the car park while two medics see to Bob.
I reload the AA-12 magazine and put it back in the boot, placing it in its carry bag. Picking up Mark's unfired one I slip that in the carry slot that allows me to get it from inside the car. By then Lieutenant Li has the body count, twenty seven dead and another five wounded, all have DHS identification on them. Damn, they're going through agents at the moment. The medics have Bob patched up, a light wound in his thigh that threw him off balance and down. They let him go with us.
We take care while we put Bob into the car and load up. When we're ready they wave us out and off. No other traffic is moving on the road at the moment. When we near the state border we find several US Marshals holding traffic back, and they wave us through. When a car starts to pull out to follow us they stop it. Both Bob and I give it a careful look over.
A few kilometres down the road, I say, “Check my count, please. I saw eight cars on our side parked beside the road while we left, each with four very healthy looking mean men.”
Bob answers, “I got another four parked on the other side.”
Mark adds, “And another four in the facing traffic as if they'd been going back and forth before the action.”
I sum up, “Sixteen cars with four men each makes sixty-four in the second string. We better make that eighteen cars and seventy men since the boss and his second in command won't be riding four to a car.” They both nod and Bob gets on the encrypted radio to pass it along.
When we settle down for the last of our drive in to Vegas we hope the next trap is able to deal with such a big group.
At seven thirty in the evening we pull up at the hotel and I get out. Mark places our bags beside the car while Bob gets out and limps to them. I follow the valet carrying our bags and Bob while Mark takes the car away to park it. Others will watch it isn't interfered with. He's back while I'm still checking us into the hotel. Then it's up to the suite and wait for the meal ordered while at the desk.
While driving to our favourite mall Ruby and I are discussing Ani's concerns of the DHS and Derfel's worry about The Group. We agree we don't know enough to be able to make reasonable decision and know both Ani and Fel are good at making the right decision based on very little information, so we decide to go along with their plans.
It's a good thing we had the discussion because we're both on high alert when we park and get out of the car at the mall. We're only two steps from the car when a group of men in dark suits approach us, and one says, “Come with us ...” I don't wait to hear any more, I drop and sweep his feet out from underneath him. Rolling over I pull out my gun and shoot the two men behind the one I'd knocked down while they pull guns out of their shoulder holsters.
Glancing at Ruby I see her crouched beside a car with two men on the ground beside the car. One is thrashing about while holding his throat and the other is moaning very loud. Ruby has her gun out and looking around as well.
I see a man in a van a few cars past her, but he's sitting in the car with both hands visible while talking on the radio. He's most likely calling for more help, but since he doesn't represent a clear threat I'd have a hard time convincing a jury it's OK to shoot him.
Ruby looks at me, smiles, and points past me. I turn, to see a State Police cruiser pulling up. When they get out I yell to them, “Watch out, I think the man in the other car is with the kidnappers and calling for more help.” They wave and talk on their radio.
During the next few minutes a dozen State Police cruisers drive in the car park and park in a circle around us while Ruby and I tell the first officers our version of events.
Of the five men who attacked us four are dead and the one who I knocked off his feet has a fractured skull and concussion; he's taken to hospital in a coma. The man I think is involved denies it, despite looking like a typical DHS clown. The dead all have DHS IDs on them.
I take time to ring home and tell them we'll be delayed, but get no answer. This worries me, so I tell the police officer nearest me. He radios in and tells me they're having it checked out.
I worry about the rest of the family because I know Ruby and I are fine, and Ani can look after himself, but I'm not so sure about the girls. I'm just glad they've the most security guards with them. A little while later one of the police officers lets me know everything is OK at home.
We'd left home without a driver because we wanted some time to ourselves, I doubt we'll be doing that again before this is all over.
Having nothing to do while Ani is away is damn boring. Being fed up with what's on the television I look out the window. There's a van at the gate and the driver is arguing with the gate guard. Suddenly the driver slams the door open and knocks the guard down. The sliding door behind him opens and a man jumps out to grab the guard. I hit the panic switch on the wall near the window. I almost laugh at what I can see of the expressions on the van driver and his friend when the slightly open gate slides shut and the anti-crash barrier springs up out of the drive a half metre in front of the van. No way will they be driving in here now!
I look about the yard and see the three yard staff running for the equipment shed, then my view is closed off because the steel shutters roll down covering the window. I've not seen the security system in action before, but know it closes the ground floor shutters before the first floor ones, which explains why it took so long to block my view from my first floor bedroom. The alarms and lights have been flashing since I hit the button, but I'm surprised no one's come to ask why I hit it.
The public address system comes alive with, “Thank you, Miss Peg, we're on the situation at the gate now, and on full alert. Everybody please report to your combat stations.”
Because I'm not armed all the time I've a support only role and head upstairs to the attic. I meet sis on the stairs, and wonder if my face looks as grim as hers, because I know I feel as grim. In the attic we put on our body armour and helmets. Mary goes to the North-East corner while I head to the South-West corner. The maid and housekeeper are already there and ready for action. The four key windows are open and they're looking out of them.
The windows are about half a metre by half a metre, at one and a half metres above the floor, and almost the same distance from the corner. This is so a person standing just back from the window can look out both. In the corner between them is a small gun rack with four guns, two .50 calibre Barrett sniper rifles and two FN rifles. One of each is set up for use at night and one of each for use during the day. The maid and housekeeper are our designated snipers while Mary and I are responsible for helping them scan their areas and reloading magazines for them, as required.
I stand beside Helga and watch the front wall while she checks the day use Barrett between glances at the side wall. The helmet radio clicks, and Ingrid says, “Climbers on the East wall.”
This is followed by Helga, saying, “Climbers on the West wall.”
Mary adds, “Four coming over the North wall.” I can't see anyone coming over the South wall yet, it's the front wall along the road.
I jump when I hear the roar of the Barrett. I glance out the window Helga is using as a rest, and see one man lying on the ground beside the wall and two more are looking around, a fourth is astride the wall and looking about. The Barrett roars again, followed by the man on the wall flying backwards off it. Just like you see Hollywood stunt men do when pulled back by one of those fancy powered ropes; he's there, then not there. The two on the ground are jittery. Another roar, and one of the men on the ground is slammed back against the wall before he falls. I keep glancing out my window, and seeing nothing to report. Another roar from the Barrett, and I look out to see the last man on his back about a metre from the wall.
Helga says, “Watch both windows, please.” I nod, and she walks off. I realise I'd also been hearing the other Barrett firing, but it didn't really register at the time, due to my concentration. While I keep glancing out both windows I watch both Helga and Ingrid move to the back of the house. Helga opens another window and they both take aim. They fire almost in unison, a moment later they fire again, followed by Helga returning to the side window near me. She has a very tigerish smile, when she says, “I like this Barrett, one shot and they don't want to play anymore.”
Watching the front wall I also get to see what's happening at the gate. Two of the yard staff are near the gate to cover the area, the van is gone and our guard is still on the ground near where it was.
A moment later a State Police cruiser drives up, one officer gets out and talks to our people before using his radio. A few minutes later he talks to our men at the gate again when an ambulance stops beside the gate. The paramedics get out and check on our guard.
Several minutes later a click on the radio, and a voice says, “Good work, people. It seems to be over. Stand down and clean up.” Helga and Ingrid take the two rifles used to the table in the middle of the attic.
At the table they strip and clean the rifles while Mary and I reload the magazines from the boxes of ammunition at the reloading table. A few minutes later the rifles are back in the racks, the windows are shut and locked, our body armour and helmets are on their stands, and everything is ready for next time before we leave the room while wondering what the raiders thought they were doing.
While we sit and eat I get a call from Mary, she's just finished talking to Bron who just got off the phone from Mum - don't you love gossip circles. They give me an update on what happened down there in the late afternoon.
Mum and Dad had a fight and shoot out in a mall car park, way to go oldies. They got too close to Mum, so she took them out by hand while Dad knocked one down and into hospital before shooting two more. I didn't think they were ready to respond that fast. Am I glad I was wrong about that. A major assault on the house left twelve dead raiders, despite having light body armour on. All the dead have DHS IDs.
I give Mary a brief on our drive and stop at Hoover Dam, and ask her to give Peg a kiss for me as well as thanking all the staff on my behalf. She promises to pass on my messages.
The good part is Mum and Dad will be on tonight's news having a go at the DHS about their latest kidnapping stuff ups.
Mark and I go down to the casino the hotel is part of and spend a couple of hours winning fifty thousand dollars before we go back and settle in for a night's sleep. I left Bob in the room to keep it safe and to rest his leg.
Mid-morning the day after the attacks in Albuquerque and Hoover Dam sees us twelve core executives of The Group gathered in the high security conference room again. I say, “Well, that was a classic cluster fuck. Do we know what really happened down there?”
Our tame CIA Deputy Director says, “Nothing much more than what's been on the news. The boy's parents took down the small team sent to bring them in to minimise the risk of them getting the media going. They were seen as a minimal risk when by themselves. That assessment's been changed. The attack to get the sisters and girlfriends as leverage was a complete failure. Somehow the boy got the security systems upgraded without our people down there seeing it being done. Also, they've more guards than we thought. We don't know how they did it, but the twelve who entered the grounds are dead despite being in body armour. We're working on getting the police reports, but think someone used Barrett fifty calibre sniper rifles on them. If they've a few of those, that property's a fortress that'll take a couple of companies to take out.” He stops for a drink of water.
“Hoover Dam was the real kick in the face. It's now clear the kid knew he was being followed and set up a trap. He drove instead of flying, that caught our people off guard and they had to adjust on the move. Then he lured them to Hoover Dam, where he'd pre-located a dozen heavily armed security guards dressed as soldiers hidden in the backs of trucks. They looked at the dam until all the civilians were out of the immediate area and then sprung our trap, which triggered their trap. Our back up people were in the area of Hoover Dam, but were unable to even see the shooting, let alone join in it. Nearly all our DHS people down that way are dead or in hospital with medical retirement wounds now. They screwed us bad this time. All the indications are the boy did all the planning of his house defences and this trap. The little shit is a tactical genius. He read us like a book and set us up.”
I'm very grim, “I'm fed up and pissed off with this boy! I want him, but if we can't get him, kill him. By now he's feeling safe and home free with our DHS people out of the picture, and he won't be expecting another attempt for some weeks. Have the back up people hit him hard as soon as they can organise it, in the next twenty-four hours if they can. Tell them he'll be feeling happy at the moment, but as time passes he'll expect another attempt.”
We discuss the situation a lot more because some don't want the boy killed. They'd rather take more time and chances to get him alive now we've clear evidence he a tactical genius. In the end I agree not to have him killed out of hand for the trouble he's caused us. The meeting breaks up.
Our man in charge of operations passes along the orders to the mercenary strike team in place in Las Vegas. They'll finish this for us because they're the best there is and have never let us down.
The next day Mark and I visit the three target list casinos within easy walking distance. With the higher bets and table stakes here it doesn't take long to win one hundred and fifty thousand dollars at a casino, even when I spread it out over a few tables because I move on before the figure gets too high at any one table and get attention.
The second full day in Vegas sees us driving to a group of three casinos within a nice walking distance of each other. When we move I notice our watchers are watching us very close and are in force. I fleece over one hundred and fifty thousand off each of these casinos too. While in the third casino I take a break to have a meal at one of their restaurants, and think about what I expect our enemy to do next.
On the third day, when we drive off, I notice we've less watchers with us, so I've Mark detour by the bank and I deposit most of our winnings; the bank is surprised when I deposit a bunch of cheques totalling nine hundred and sixty thousand dollars. While they process it I call Bob at the hotel and tell him to take care because I expect they'll hit us today. He passes it on to Major Erwin.
We stop at one of the top casinos and all seems OK, so we go in for my first session of today. After a nice lunch we exit while I slip a cheque into my pocket for one hundred and fifty-two thousand dollars. We head over to another big casino.
This casino has a number of car parks, but the main ones are full and one is part closed for some sort of work. I smile because I see some familiar faces amongst the workers, I saw them at Hoover Dam when we left. I warn Mark while he parks. During the earlier drive I used our interior access to the boot to bring the AA-12s, the spare magazines, and our helmets into the main body of the car. I'm quick to drop Mark's helmet, AA-12, and five spare magazines on the seat beside him.
Just after we enter the car park a truck moves to block the entrance behind us. I put my helmet on while we pull into the parking spot, we only have a choice of half a dozen. The heavily tinted windows makes it hard for people to see into the car, so I'm not worried our enemies will see what I'm wearing. I also slip on an extra bullet resistant coat and tell Mark to put on his extra coat and his helmet a.s.a.p.
I'm not surprised when men start moving towards us the moment the car comes to a rest. When I open the door on the passenger's side they start bringing weapons up and a few run to get closer. Exiting in a crouch I open fire with the AA-12. Due to the lack of blood when I hit the first guy's chest I know they've body armour on and tell Mark so over the helmet's radio. I soon find head shots are good killers, and leg shots stop them as well. It's hard to move when someone suddenly removes your leg at the knee or thigh. I'm quick to empty my thirty-two round magazine and replace it from my five spares. I figure some twenty odd suckers aren't going home; a few are very fast in ducking behind vehicles. From the sounds on the other side of the car I know Mark is just as busy. We stay kneeling beside the car and firing at them at each opportunity we get, but there's so many of them. I'm hit many times, but not hurt. The body armour is taking the punishment.
After only a few minutes many more of the enemy are lying beside vehicles and I can hear our help arriving. Taking a moment to look around, I soon spot a few fire teams covering each other when they take care while they move in on the enemy, with us in the centre of the circle.
Several more minutes and someone in the enemy camp yells out, the rest still able to move start to make a mass movement towards some vehicles to the side. I rapid fire the shotgun into them at knee height, emptying one drum magazine and switching to another. The bulk reach the vehicles and are mounting up when they explode, killing those in them and many of those near them are hit with shrapnel from the vehicles. I stop shooting and maintain my position, and I see fire teams from The Dragons moving through the car park checking each vehicle and body. I notice a couple of the checked bodies jerk when the checker gives the body's head a twist. I accept the clean-up has to be very clean.
While I watch the wave of troops moves across the car park until it's all checked. Some of them move off into the scrub and start searching it while others move into the adjacent car park to check it. The captain in charge walks over to me and asks how we are.
I stand up after picking up the empty magazines, and realise I've used four drums plus most of the one on the gun; I remember changing drums only twice. Walking around the car I check on Mark, he's OK.
When he stands up Mark reaches out to pluck something from my coat, saying, “Interesting rounds they were shooting at you, Boss.” He holds up a tranquilliser dart. We check my coat, and find seven more stuck in it. Checking the ground around my position we find another twenty-three darts. The captain gives orders to check enemy weapons.
Most of the enemy have normal weapons, but the twenty nearest me have tranquilliser rifles. It seems they still want me alive. The enemy body count is one hundred and twenty-one dead, no wounded. We have two people dead and eleven wounded. Captain Collins and I both figure the enemy was surprised by our use of assault shotguns and the fire teams coming in from behind. I'm sure the increased fire power of the shotguns is what really saved us, because it kept them from closing in too fast for us to stop them - which was obviously their plan.
With the area declared clear, Mark and I put our shotgun, coats, and helmets in the car after we reload all the drum magazines from the boxes of shells in the boot. Leaving Captain Collins to explain things to any authorities and media who arrive, we go into the casino.
We make a point of walking around to another entrance before we go in. When we enter we see a lot of people looking out of the entrance nearest the car park while trying to see what's going on.
Captain Collins handles the local and state police with ease, since he has several US Marshals and FBI agents with him and they deal with the incident as a federal sting operation against mercenaries.
After winning another hundred and fifty thousand dollars we collect the car and move on. We'd been in the casino for three and a half hours, and they're still cleaning up the mess in the car park.
One thing that surprises me after the shoot-out is the condition of the paint job on my car. From a few metres it still looks good, but up close you can see scratches and chips where the bullets hit the car.
We visit our third casino for today, having dinner while there, and back to the hotel. After checking out the next morning we fill up and head home again. We drive out on Route 95 to join Highway 40 and back along that. This is a little longer way than via Hoover Dam, but we want to avoid any extra surprises they may have left for us in that direction.
The trip to Las Vegas is a very profitable trip in many ways. We all learn I can hold my own in a fire-fight. I've more confidence in Bob and Mark after seeing them in action. I bank one million four hundred and twelve thousand dollars, and we do away with a lot of the enemy troops in our area. A few days later Major Erwin lets me know the group in Las Vegas were a nasty bunch of mercenaries often used by The Group, and many people are very glad they're permanently out of the way now. I'm happy to see so many not nice people out of the game.
Mid-morning the day after Anian Evans returns to Albuquerque sees The Group executive in our conference room again. I say, “Well, that was a major cluster fuck! Do we know what really happened in Vegas? And I'm getting very tired of asking that same question!”
The head of operations says, “No, absolutely nothing. None of our people survived, we lost them all.” There's a lot of groans around the table. It took many years to put together such a good team of killers, and now they're all gone. This'll put a big dent in other operations, too, and some of them will have to be cancelled for now. “The pathology reports show the weapons used were shotguns, nine and ten millimetre bullets. No local law were involved, it seems to be a totally federal operation by Marshals and the FBI, and no full reports yet from anyone. Evans went in and did his gambling without a hitch. The only thing the analysts agree on is this had to be a set up by Evans again, but how he knew to do it is beyond them. Hell, we don't even know if he did any of the shooting, none of the reports we can get hold of mention him as anything but the bait in the trap. We've got no one local in authority now. Because of Hoover Dam all our people in the New Mexico and Arizona DHS are dead, retired, or in the process of being sacked for incompetence. I've ordered Johnson and his few people left be removed via plausible accidents.” We all nod our agreement at this action.
I snarl, “This Evans boy is costing us a lot, in many ways! I sure hope he's really worth it! I think we should either just kill him or forget him before this goes too far. Johnson and his people are no longer any good to us, except as examples of what happens when you fail, so that's the best thing to do. Any likelihood The Dragons are still involved in this?”
Our CIA Deputy Director says, “No, not at all. We've got them on four big jobs at the moment, with three more waiting until they're free. The number of people we think they have on those jobs is a bit higher than what we thought they had, but they're bitching about us asking them to do things without enough people. If they've kept people back the Director will be extremely displeased, and I'm sure Colonel Evans doesn't want that. It would also mean they've over double the number of people we thought they had, which is very unlikely. No, it looks like Colonel Evans got the boy in touch with the US Marshals and they brought the local FBI in. They won't hang around all the time, but may come back if he can justify calling them back in.”
I smile, “We may wish to think about getting him while he's in Washington. One of the oversight committees is about to have a very close look at the DHS and how it operates, some of the people on it want to have him come and give evidence. I'm a member of that committee, so I'll be there, and also be able to tell you when he's due.”
Several smile about that, because Washington's where we've our greatest numbers and we'll be able to stop the DC based US Marshals and FBI from operating here. We discuss the matter, and decide to have one more go at kidnapping Anian Evans. If this fails we'll give up on him. We plan how to detect others moving agents into the area, so they can be dealt with. An hour later the meeting breaks up and we go about our other activities.
The Sunday evening just before school starts again we're sitting in the lounge room talking with Major Erwin while we try to work out what the enemy will do next. Everyone has been brought up to date on all the activities and plans for school, so it's general talk now.
Half joking, Cadi says, “You should be safe now because they can't have anyone left alive in New Mexico.” I sit and think about that.
A few minutes later I look up, and say, “Cadi, I think you're mostly right. Unless everyone in DHS is part of The Group we must've just about killed all their troops down this way or they wouldn't have used the mercenaries as their back up. Major Erwin, how strong are they in Washington, DC, and who do you know are their people in the Senate and Congress?”
He looks up, “Washington is their heartland, the DC US Marshals and FBI will be useless there. I've a list of several people we know they have in the Senate and Congress, and several more we suspect. Why?”
“With all this business about their attacks on me through the DHS the media have been having a go at the government over the DHS and the legislation it operates under. Some smart people are pushing for changes to the legislation and reviews of the DHS operations. Now, if a joint committee is to look into this, don't you think they'll want me to appear before them?” I look around the room, and everyone nods. “So, if I have to go to Washington where they're strong and I'm weak, well away from here where I'm strong and they're weak, don't you think they'll have another go?”
Erwin groans, “Shit, they won't be able to resist the opportunity to get you. I better start getting some people slowly moved up that way, but how to sneak them in without them knowing it?”
“Major, do they keep as close an eye on Arlington and Alexandria as they do on Washington, DC? It's only across the river, but a different state and most people won't think about the closeness due to that. Also, I'm sure they've some ghettos or very poor areas up there where a few people can slip in without being noticed. I believe DC has some nice university and colleges, can't a few younger people go there for some short courses and live on campus or nearby without creating too much suspicion? Then we can do the same just over the border in Maryland. Once we've people in place on the ground it's no problem if 'family' visit for a short time. And there are always the various tour groups, that'd allow you to get some bus loads of people in almost unchecked for one or two windows.”
He looks up, and smiles, “Nearly everyone organising government activities in DC has their people staying in DC itself or one of the military bases close by in Maryland. If we go with the down-market civilian accommodation just over the border it should take them time to catch on, so that'll work for the last minute moves. Low income workers in the poor housing districts will help if we start moving them in now, and so will the universities and colleges if you set up to appear very soon.” We smile at each other while he starts to make notes.
While he writes I think some more, and suddenly sit up, he turns to look at me, “The top people we deal with in the US Marshals Office and the FBI, I need to talk to them and their top one or two analysts they trust, but before the meeting the analysts need to do some research. I don't need to know the information I want them to read, but I'll need to have them answer questions on their analysis. All the personnel and employment files on the people who've been involved in attempts to kidnap me; all the federal, state, and local files on me; the police reports etc. on the deaths of Johnson and Fellows. I'm sure they were executed, so they may want to have a much closer look. And the two top men need to read the police reports on my kidnappings and the court papers on the compensation case. I need to meet with them a.s.a.p., but after all that reading. Contact Uncle Derfel and bring him up to date. Also tell him I'll need him here about a week before I go to Washington, DC and until a few days after I return. Warn the Marshals and FBI the meeting is for me to convince them they need to assign large teams of Marshals and FBI agents to me full time as twenty-four hour protection, but I won't need them until I go to Washington; also, they need to be people from outside of Washington, D.C. I just want the paperwork done and locked in well before hand. Got all that?” He gulps, and nods. “Good, please get it sorted and organised immediately!”
He nods, “You know, when you talk like that and I've got my head down I'd swear it was your uncle talking. He often goes off like that on tangents, but they're always right. So I'll play your hunches too.”
I look up at everyone else staring at me while they wonder where I see it going. Major Erwin leaves just after that.
Things should be safer now, but we won't let our guard down. We set about getting on with our lives. Bron and Cadi to high school, Mary, Peg, and I to the University of New Mexico. Mary is doing a Business Management course, Peg is doing an Accounting one while I do History and Political Science degrees as well as Computational Science and Engineering Certificate Program courses. All this and my regular visits to casinos.
I ask Matt to get us some Bond Arms Cowboy Defender Derringers in .410 calibre, a hand sized two round shotgun only 127 mm long. I get two each for Mum, Dad, Bron, Cadi, Peg, and Mary, while I carry four - two on my belt, one on my left ankle, and one in my shirt collar. These are strictly very close range kill guns for bad emergencies. I also get Matt onto getting concealed carry licences for Peg and Mary.
Three weeks after my meeting with Major Erwin I head to a secure office in Albuquerque to meet the senior officers from the US Marshals Office and the FBI with their analysts. They've done their homework, but let me know they still don't know where I'm headed.
After being introduced to everyone, I ask, “Have you worked out how they killed Johnson and Fellows yet?”
The FBI man smiles, and says, “The police were surprised when we came and stuck our nose in. We justified it on the grounds they were federal employees. The police had them written off as accidents until our labs found some oddities. They're now down as professional murders by persons unknown. The most likely suspect is you, but we know where you were when they were killed and they would've been passed over except for your insistence it was murder. Now what's this all about?”
I turn to the analysts, and ask, “Got any world shattering news to give us from your studies?” Both shake their heads no. “OK, see if you can follow me, and let me know when the light shines for you, please!” They nod.
I look at the top men I've got to convince to get my official security screen. “I'm a private citizen whose done nothing unlawful. When I start winning well at gambling government authorities got interested in me. I understand some concerns re money laundering etc., but there's no way you can justify the DHS getting involved, yet they do. While I was in their not so tender care Johnson and Fellows talked to each other in the next room, not realising I've got good hearing and could hear them. The cause of interest in the file is garbage, they were after my gambling knowledge and skills for personal reasons for themselves and friends. They were abusing their power and position in the DHS to run over me and my family to get what they want. This is a serious act of abuse of authority and corruption, agreed?” They all nod. “What got them interested in me was my skill in gambling and winning so much. Anyone know what all gambling and gambling systems are based on?”
One analyst says, “Odds, the theory of probability. All systems are an attempt to predict the result as a higher probability event.”
“Well done, what else revolves around probability theory?” I get blank stares. “Let me know when you work it out as it's a variation of probability theory with more variables added in. Anyway, all gambling systems say each bet has a particular probability of winning and you have to always bet on all the criteria matches or the system doesn't work, because you're adding more variables than it can handle.” All four listeners nod agreement. “What caught their eye was the fact I was winning over ninety percent of the time and they couldn't see my criteria.” All four heads come up at this and a hand goes up for me to stop while one checks a file. Finding the report he wants he marks it with a sticky label and passes it around.
The US Marshal says, “Yep, it's here. I've read this file several times, and that fact never stuck out in my mind. It's in the first report from the initial FBI report. Damn, if you don't bet all the time, how can your system work?”
Before I can answer an analyst says, “Games theory. Probability is all about the odds when every variable is known or controlled. Games theory is much the same, but with a number of unknown variables. It's the basis of tactics and strategy. Fuck, you're spotting extra variables at the Craps table and bet when you work it out with all the variables, and don't when you can't be sure of one. How good are you at strategy and tactics games?”
I smile, “You win the ice cream when we're finished. My uncle is a colonel in a special forces unit and we often compete in an on-line strategy and tactics game. He has better resources, yet I keep kicking his butt for him. He recently said I'd have to be one of the top tactical and strategic planning geniuses alive today. And I've not yet done any serious military studies along those lines, mostly general games theory and making sound decisions off insufficient data by seeing the trends. That's what they're after, my way of thinking. Now, why and where do you think I'm going now?”
The analyst smiles, “The local DHS didn't see anything because they didn't get the FBI report until after they asked for it. Someone in DC saw it and the implications, passing on orders for them to grab you. Shit, this is a large conspiracy involving senior people from multiple government agencies. Those two were executed to stop them talking. All those files you had us read, it was to look for trends with their contacts to work out where or who recruited them. Damn, I didn't see anything remotely like that, so that means twenty or thirty or more recruiters for them. This is getting bigger each time I look at it.” The two top dogs are now very, very unhappy.
“I was told the initial report would have a very limited distribution in the very senior levels of the FBI in Washington, DC. It's clear one person, or more, on that list is involved in the conspiracy. They were in contact with someone who could send Johnson after me and assign him help in Arizona too. They also knew when the two were about to be taken to Washington to be questioned, and had them killed.”
The other analyst chimes in, “The only reason they'd need a tactical genius is to stage a coup. If they don't care about you knowing they're kidnapping you, they must have some sort of brainwashing system for you, or another sure method of controlling you. Since they aren't too concerned about you going to other authorities they must have senior people within all agencies to think they can limit the agency's response. Hell, what a mess!”
“Welcome to my world, people. I know you four aren't involved, and I know your local people are clean. I'm fairly sure the local DHS is now almost clean, until new staff transfer in. If they had more they would've used them at Hoover Dam. The losses at Vegas must've hurt their enforcement arm hard as well. Now is the time to hit them, if we can. The heart of this conspiracy has to be in Washington so they can directly control things and be ready to step in when they create the power vacuum they want. My main concern, at the moment, is there'll soon be a joint house committee investigating the DHS and its actions. I can be sure they'll have some people on it and I'll get legally forced to attend. That's where they intend to strike at me next. No, nothing has been announced, but it's obvious from the media attention. I want to be assigned eighteen Marshals and twelve FBI agents from the current local staff as my personal protection on a full time twenty-four by seven days a week basis. Get the paperwork done now, so this'll be forgotten by the enemy before they call me to Washington. I won't need the people with me unless I leave the state, so they can continue to do other duties until needed, but be ready to go at the drop of a hat when I get called to Washington. That way I'll have security on hand up there I know I can trust. And they'll be ones that can tell the DHS to go away because I'll be under federal protection as a witness in a major corruption case started by the investigation into Johnson and Fellows. My earlier statements about why they wanted me shows it goes deeper.” They all nod again, and we talk for another half hour. They'll get it all done.
When I get home after the meeting I find Uncle Derfel there, waiting to talk with me.
I smile on seeing him with Major Erwin, and take them to the study to brief them on this afternoon. After we discuss it a bit, I say, “Major, I need to speak to my uncle in private. While we take a walk to talk, please help me with a special task. Stay here and do what you wish, but please note the basics of what you're doing every five minutes. My watch says five fifteen now.” He sets his watch and nods. While we leave he gets out a sheet of paper and a pen. Uncle gives me an odd look.
I wait until we're well down the back yard and turn on a radio I've got on a strap over my shoulder, the sound should interfere with any listening devices aimed our way. Noting the time I close my eyes, see what the major is doing, and write it in my pocket notebook. I'll do that every five minutes until we return.
Facing Uncle Derfel, I say, “Uncle, how useful would it be to be able to see what's going on inside a building or vehicle you're about to attack, and hear what they have to say?”
He smiles, “It'd be very useful, it's shame it won't happen.”
I grin, “How do you feel about casinos and gambling?”
“Casinos are legalised theft. I don't like organised gambling because they have unbalanced odds and rip people off. I'm very happy you seem to be able to rip them of.” His voice trails off towards the end, and I can see him thinking very hard. “You do rip them off, don't you! You've found a way to cheat they can't detect, and you're robbing them blind! You bloody little beauty! Keep it up. But why ... . Oh, you're in it for the long haul, by taking lots of frequent little bites you'll get more than one big one. How much have you hit them for so far? And how much do you intend to take them for in the end?”
“I've won about eight million so far, gross. Of the gross revenue I lose about twenty percent to taxes and give twenty percent to Mum, Dad, and the girls as a tax break. Those are rough figures because the annual operating costs vary a lot. I intend to keep up skimming the casinos for as long as I can, why should I fight hard for money when I can get it easy. Then I can do what I want for an actual living. Yes, I'm cheating to win, but don't see it as theft for the same reasons you don't. Mum was angry about me gambling until I convinced her I had a sure fire way to win, she feels much the same away as we do.”
When I stop speaking he turns to me, “I see we've another witch in the family. So many of our ancestors were denounced and killed as witches and warlocks for doing unaccountable things. That trait's come out in you, hasn't it?”
I nod, “Telekinesis, but only a small amount and nearby. And also being able to see and hear something up to about three hundred and twenty metres away now. When I first discovered the ability, a few years back, I was limited to about two hundred and fifty metres. I can bug rooms you can't get in, and follow people where you can't go. And they can't detect me or stop me. Add in I really am a genius as well as a great tactician and strategist, you can see why I'm scared they'll brainwash me if they grab me.”
He nods, “OK, we need to really cover you in Washington, but also use you to track them. We know some of them, but they keep shaking our tails for important meetings. You could be the difference. We must do it without giving anything away or telling anyone. Thank you for letting me know. This thing with Erwin is to prove it to me.”
Nodding, I smile, “Now there are two who know, so the secret is compromised, but only slightly.” He smiles while we head back. He checks my notes against Erwin's, and smiles at them being the same list of activities on both sheets.
Things go on as expected for some months. We study and do exams, I bet and win. We have our birthdays and the Winter Break is fun. February is when I get the summons to appear in Washington.
We decide to work a shuffle on the enemy, since I'm sure they have me under surveillance again. The coach load of federal officers will meet me at the Albuquerque Headquarters of the State Police. I drive to the airport in my armoured car, Mark departs with the car while Bob and I get ready to take a private jet out of town. I board while the ground crew are still loading things, sneaking off while dressed as a ground crew member. When they finish loading Bob boards and the jet takes off. The watcher calls in the departure. I leave on the floor of an FBI agent's car. In the State Police Headquarters car park I get out of the car and get on the bus full of agents. An hour later, along the road North, I transfer to my car with two FBI agents and three US Marshals.
The private jet takes Bob to Miami to visit friends before going to New York and Washington, DC. The trip to Washington is without any incidents for all concerned. Both groups arrive safely and on time.
We stay at a small lower class hotel to improve the security by being able to book out the whole hotel. Strangers will be a bit obvious. We book it out for two days before my scheduled appearance and for ten days afterwards, in case they take a lot of time with me. We all settle in well and wait for the appointed day and time.
We use the one car for transport, my armoured car. The FBI are surprised at how well it handles, despite the heavy armour. It takes about an hour to get from the hotel to where they're running the interviews before a huge bank of media cameras. When we enter the building we've our first little battle. The security people are wanting to remove all weapons and run us through metal detectors. I flatly refuse to allow any sort of search. They're about to get stuffy when the US Marshals and FBI agents with me tell them to take a hike. They tell me to walk through, and I set off all the alarms. We keep right on walking.
Their head of security catches up with us down the hall and wants to argue. I end it all with a simple statement, “I've survived a number of attempts to kidnap me and kill me. I'm armed and protected, I won't go anywhere without the guards and guns. You let me attend as I am or they can organise to call me and do it over the phone if you won't let me in. By being here in this building I've met my legal obligation to make myself available to the committee. If you or they aren't happy with my security arrangements, too bad.”
Some minutes, and a few phone calls, later sees me sitting at a table facing a dozen politicians from both houses and parties. Two are on the list of The Group members. One, Senator Alice Quinn, is watching me with an odd intensity. I figure she's the one to really watch and be careful of today.
The Committee Chairperson says, “Mister Evans, I think we all know you've had some less than satisfactory dealings with the staff of the Department of Homeland Security in the last couple of years. Care to talk about your interactions with them?”
I look up, and smile, “Congressman Baker, I bet no one ever accuses you of exaggeration. Unsatisfactory dealings is an understatement for their attempts to kidnap and torture me to get confidential commercial knowledge from me. I'm prepared to tell anyone the information they wanted for the suitable remuneration of ten billion dollars.” This gets a few gasps from all quarters. “It wouldn't be far wrong to say a state of war exists between me and the DHS and the people who ordered them to kidnap me.”
“People who ordered them to kidnap you? Do you see a conspiracy against you by the government?”
“No, not by the government, but by some powerful people within the governmental structure. Mister Johnson of the DHS had me grabbed and interviewed about things in a highly classified FBI report he didn't get access to until days after he was forced to release me. Someone else told him what to seek answers for. Someone able to get and read top level restricted access FBI reports.”
I sip some water from a bottle I brought with me while the press gallery do some whispering. “However, the main topic today is the way the DHS operates. The legislation they work under gives them way too much power to act like a modern Gestapo; in fact, the DHS have more power than the Nazi Gestapo did. The DHS needs to be controlled and made accountable. Some simple changes to the legislation will fix the majority of the abuses. The main issues are they arrest people on a whim, refuse to acknowledge they have them, and mistreat them while they have them.” I look across their faces. “Require them to seek an arrest warrant from a Federal judge beforehand, every couple of days they need to justify to the judge they need to keep them in custody, and have US Marshals check the cells and procedures when they have a prisoner. That should resolve almost all of that.”
Senator Harris asks, “Why the concern about the cells?”
“I was held in a cell that looks OK until you use it. The toilet is in the corner with no privacy. They've cameras in the walls to watch you all the time. The lights are bright and never dimmed or off, so you can't sleep. The interview schedule is long and they only allow you a few hours between interviews, which are longer than the breaks. The food they give is only one sandwich per mealtime and water. Make changes to have someone outside the DHS authorise arrests and check their operations, and the majority of the abuses can't occur. That'll fix up the DHS operations. But you'll still need to clean out the traitors within the DHS and other agencies that wish to take over the country. That's a much harder issue.”
Harris asks, “Why do you keep coming back to this conspiracy?”
“Senator, nothing I've done is a crime or threat to this government or the country. Yet people with power in this government are trying to kidnap me and have gone to great lengths trying. Four attempts, three of them became major media events, also the deaths of nearly two hundred people. Including one hundred and twenty heavily armed mercenaries killed in Las Vegas when they tried to kidnap me and were killed by a large force of federal agents.”
Harris blinks, “What, that's not in the briefing notes.”
“No, it' s not. Nor is the fact I'm a genius with an IQ of 203, nor is there a note of some people speaking of me as being the top strategic and tactical genius alive. Want to play war games Colonel Harris, I'll beat you. In fact, I've already beaten you on-line, Desert Dan.”
Harris looks up, “What, no one's beaten me on-line except the Welsh Rabbit and The Diamond.”
“Welsh Rabbit is my uncle, I think you know him as Colonel Derfel Evans, and I'm The Diamond. I'm giving notice, those after me are about to learn I'm a Rough Diamond, a very rough one.” The last is said while looking directly at Senator Quinn, she gulps when she realises I'm targeting her with it. “You think I'm tough to fight now, Colonel, wait until I've done some real studying of history and attended a good military training academy. The people who want me are known as The Group, and they want me because they worked out, via the FBI report, I've a new approach to games theory and am a strategic and tactical genius. They want me to help them take control of this country, but I won't help them because I'll kill them all first.”
“That sounds like a declaration of war, why here?”
“It is a declaration of war. I say it here as two of my main enemies are seated at the table in front of me. Yes, two of your fellow committee members are part of The Group. The fact I've been able to work that out from the little data available to me is going to make them and their fellow conspirators very unhappy. They've stayed hidden for many years and I'm shining a big searchlight on them and can identify them when they think they're safe from identification. Correct, Congressman Miller, don't bother to deny it because the FBI investigation I got started will soon have you in court on charges of corruption and fraud, they even have the names of your other bank accounts in Georgia. See what happens when you piss off a military and analytical genius.”
Miller stands when I name him. He's about to interrupt and deny it all. When I add about the FBI and Georgia he goes white as a sheet. Before anyone can move he pulls out a pistol, sticks it in his mouth, and pulls the trigger.
One down and one to go. I turn and give Senator Quinn a most evil smile, and she goes white.
Miller's suicide has the whole room in an uproar. The media are in a feeding frenzy on the conspiracy and corruption while the politicians are upset they lost control of the interview. The chairperson acts fast to close the session, and everyone leaves, very fast. My security team fold around and hustle me out by the most direct route.
When I leave a group of men in dark suits head towards me, only to be intercepted by the FBI. An exchange of IDs and the DHS people are sent packing while I get into my car.
I sit back and relax while I close my eyes and send my sight back to the committee room. Quinn isn't there. I soon scan the hallway behind the room and move along it while I check the side rooms. A moment later I find her near the far end of the building and heading outside. I say, “Go North, Mark.”
I stay with Quinn when she walks to another building. In one room she's quick to change while a women puts on her clothes. The woman who now looks like Quinn leaves and heads to the next building in the group while Quinn, in make-up and looking nothing like herself, heads West. I say, “West, Mark.” The US Marshals and FBI agents have no idea what's up, but stay with me; as per their assignment to keep me safe. I smile, “Relax everyone, you'd need a major artillery piece to penetrate the armour of this beast.” They smile and relax a bit.
Picking up the microphone for the encrypted radio Erwin installed, I say, “Rabbit, Diamond, decoy on ground for Grouse One. Flushing West at the moment. Will advise.” I get no acknowledgement, and I don't expect one.
For the next twenty minutes I direct Mark in driving the car to stay as close to Senator Quinn as I dare while I track her across Washington. Eventually she ends up in a high security meeting room in a private building. The room is in the middle of the building and surrounded with several layers of mesh to prevent outgoing radio signals. I radio the address with the code word to indicate a major location, and direct Mark to park while asking my federal babysitters to either leave the car or get in the front seat because I need some privacy for a while. Two get in the front and Mark closes the screen while the rest exit the car to set up at a drink and food stall a few metres away. I pull out a digital recorder and set it to record.
I sit there sipping water from a bottle through a straw, when I can, while I talk to the recorder. I describe the room, the others when they arrive, and what they say. When each arrives they set up a notebook computer, so I watch them enter the user IDs and passwords they use to get in. They aren't the regular IDs shown on boot up. The people I know from files I name while I report what they say and do, I give nicknames for the rest. When people are identified during the meeting I add the information and reference their nickname.
They discuss the committee meeting and my behaviour. They're good, by the end of the talk they work out what happened. I had some information from the Dragons' intelligence people and lied about it being a FBI investigation, then used what I had to panic Miller. The only surprise being his suicide, but no loss from our view point. But a big one for them since he was their key to certain support services; now they have to rebuild them. The reason they know about the status of the FBI is because one of the members is the number three person at the FBI and she keeps an eye out for investigations involving their people. They also talk about materials and equipment stored in many warehouses around town, mostly military arms for when they need them. They're just doing a status check. The CIA Deputy Director of Finances has a nice list of them with a current status report on his laptop, so I read it off while he reports from it on their preparations, in case they need to act in a hurry in response to my revelations today. They go on to talk about many of the military preparations and equipment in the area.
The shocker is despite my proving a big danger to them they still want to kidnap me and brainwash me to work for them; in fact, they see it as a higher priority now. The CIA member switches to a list of people he can call on to help with that while I'm in town, and they discuss who to have do the job. Because this is important information I also turn on a second recorder so I can have this bit on hand when I meet my uncle a little later. I read out the people and contact details while the CIA man goes through them.
When the meeting finishes some stop for drinks and a chat so they won't all be seen leaving at once. Senator Quinn has to hurry back to brief the Senate people she controls on how to react to Miller's death. When she leaves I track her while using the radio to direct some of the Dragons to set up an intercept a couple of buildings away from the meeting site. The whole area is now well saturated with our people. They make a clean grab of Quinn and hustle her away in a van before she realises what's happening.
Major Erwin decides to grab two others as he's afraid they may cut and run. He sets up the CIA man involved to have a fatal car accident on his way back to Langley, his notebook will be stolen in the crash.
There's one weedy fellow I've a special interest in, but no one else is concerned about him yet. When he starts to leave I track him to work out which exit he'll use, and then get out of the car while telling Mark where to go when I do. Outside, I've my security detail form around me and we walk down a few lanes. About a block away we intercept the man and I've the FBI agents arrest him for conspiracy to kidnapping, murder, and fraud of government funds. We don't have long to wait after they handcuff him before Mark arrives with the car. We pile in.
Turning on the digital recorder again, I say, “Jonas, now tell me all about the various bank accounts you manage for The Group.”
He looks at me, and gulps while he wonders how I know about him. It's clear he recognises me from the photo he's seen in my file. I watch as several emotions flash across his face, finally he sighs, and says, “The accounts break up into three types for each source. There are two off shore accounts in two different countries and a local or New York one for each revenue source. They're monies from fraud of government operations, fraud of non-government operations, payments for work done, donations from people and lobby groups, and income from crimes.” The federal officers are shocked by this.
His eyes bulge when he watches me open his notebook with the special ID and password. When I open the bank accounts he gives me the passwords to access them and tells me which category they are. I go into the accounts to change all the passwords and reset all other access modes so people can continue to put money in, but not take any out. I also use the opportunity to transfer the bulk of the funds for the work done and donations to recently opened accounts of my own in off shore and New York banks. I figure that'll be my compensation and the government can have the fraud and criminal money.
Several blocks away I stop to hand the digital recordings to Uncle Derfel and tell him about the specialist contractors' details on one. I leave him to deal with them while we go to the FBI headquarters.
At the FBI Headquarters we take our prisoner in with his head covered. We place him in an interview room in the interrogation area in the room beside the one with Senator Quinn, and I call up to the big boss. After I give him a short summary he calls on his number three and has her join him for a very important person to be interviewed for corruption, she brings her notebook with her. To take notes, she says. I think none of the conspirators let their notebooks out of their sight.
When she's shown in the room she's shocked to see Jonas, more so when she sees me. Before she can react I grab her notebook and two of the US Marshals grab her arms. Opening the notebook I log in with the special ID and password to open the directory she keeps The Group meeting minutes in. I turn the notebook around and point to an open file, saying, “Director, this file, alone, should be enough to ensure a conviction. By the time your experts finish a close examination of all that's on this notebook you'll have a lot of information about their crimes.” She's stunned to see the notebook open where it is. I open Jonas' notebook to the special area and show it to the director as well. I tell him what the bank accounts are and their revenue sources, and write the new passwords down for him.
He has a huge smile when he opens the door and calls some of his computer experts in to take the computers away and copy everything off them. He leads me to the room Quinn is in, and I enjoy watching her shake when I smile and open her notebook. The director has that taken away by his computer people as well. When we're about to leave an agent walks in and hands out some transcripts of the meeting The Group had earlier. These are to be used for the initial interviews.
I take great delight in telling Quinn, “Earlier I had you tagged with a special tracker and listening device of my own design. Your fancy precautions did reduce its effective range when you entered the room, but it did work, I just had to move closer than I wanted to. Thanks for leading us to the core leaders.”
With a huge smile I leave them to the FBI and leave the building with my security team. When we exit the front door I get a glimpse of movement in an open window of the building opposite. I don't know what it is about it, but I'm very suspicious of it, and yell, “Down,” and I drop down. I'm only halfway to the ground when there's a loud crash of glass behind me and the sound of a loud gunshot washes over us. I look about, and see my whole team are OK, but the fancy double doors we just passed through have a big hole in the left hand one of each set.
I mention the window I saw movement in, and half my security people are gone while they teleport across the road. It had to be that as no one can run as fast as they seemed to be moving. I roll up to the car and close my eyes, sending my sight into the room. I see the sniper taking aim at the agents crossing the road. Grabbing the radio mike of the agent beside me, I activate it, and say, “Everyone cut away and seek cover, sniper.” They ask no questions, but start to zig zag and bullets hit the ground where they would otherwise have been. One of the US Marshals watching the others on the road turns and looks at me. I give her a sick smile and place my finger to my lips, she nods in reply.
I move my sight to the door of the room the sniper is in and pass along the room number when they reach the building. The sniper leaves the room and hits the stairs, heading up. I make a quick scan of the roof, there's a helicopter waiting for him.
Opening the car door I reach in for the Dragons' radio, activating the mike, I say, “Control, Diamond, FBI HQ, sniper across the road about to escape by chopper. Please assist.”
This time I'm rewarded with a response, “Diamond, Control, FBI HQ escaping sniper in chopper, watch for hotshots and coolers.” I smile at that.
The US Marshal asks, “What are hotshots and coolers?”
“Smart arse code, watch for some A ten Warthogs followed by some Apache assault helicopters. I won't be surprised if they're followed by Blackhawks full of Marines.” Her eyes go real wide while she wonders how because the airspace around DC is very strictly controlled, very strictly; especially since September 11.
A few seconds later we see a helicopter rising from the target building just as two Warthogs scream in and buzz it. The bird turns and another pair flash by, followed by four Apaches setting up at the cardinal compass points with their guns aimed at the small helicopter above the building. It vanishes from sight when it lands again. A moment later a Marshal looks up from his radio, and says, “Three very surprised and shocked people in custody.”
Back on the Dragons' radio mike, I say, “Marshals advise three in custody in need of new underwear, thanks.”
They respond, “Glad to help. I'll pass the thanks along.” A moment later the helicopter lifts off from the building and is escorted away to a nearby military base.
A short wait for the federal agents to travel through the building, and they're escorting three new prisoners into the FBI building. We're now short one agent who's flying the helicopter. No one inside is badly hurt, just a few light injuries from flying glass because the Barrett they used packs a hell of a hit. It blasted through two doors of extra thick plate glass specially treated to resist bullets.
After giving our statements we get to leave and go to our hotel.
News that night is very full - my allegations, Miller's suicide, the attack at the FBI building, the arrests of Quinn and several others, the destruction of several warehouse buildings in fires, and a couple of odd fatal traffic accidents are briefly mentioned at the end.
The next morning Uncle Derfel arrives to brief me on his afternoon and evening. It seems he found several thousand tonnes of military weapons he can use just lying about in warehouses, none of it is on any official inventory or register. To eliminate the risk of some criminals finding them he had them removed to a very safe storage he has in another state. He also found huge supplies of chemicals that can be used to make certain types of biological warfare weapons. Sadly, while his people were trying to inventory them fires broke out. So they had to withdraw from the buildings, since none of the fire-fighting equipment worked. The buildings burnt down. The chemicals were all ones that are destroyed by fire. He also went to look at some gear for possible sale, only to find local police or federal agents there because the gear was all stolen from federal inventories. Another sad thing was when his men called on two hundred and seventy mercenaries to hire them they found them all dead, most appeared to be natural causes.
The Director of the FBI turns up to tell us about the twenty-three billion dollars recovered, which will help the US budget, and several hundred senior government employees now under investigation for fraud and corruption. Also under investigation are a few hundred businessmen. It seems his people are going to be very busy for quite some time while following down the leads they have. He expects some will have time to get away before they get to them, but just getting them out of operation will be good work.
The FBI also raided the building the meeting was in and recovered a lot of records. Preliminary scans indicate about a third of the DHS staff will find their services not wanted due to concerns over loyalty and abuse of authority, but that'll take time to sort out.
I smile at this, because I expect certain very senior government spooks will have some of the possible escapees on 'accidents to be' lists soon. After the director thanks us and leaves I tell Uncle Derfel about the one and a half billion dollars that's mysteriously turned up in my bank accounts. His eyes pop, and he laughs very hard when I say, “Twenty-four billion is too hard to work out how to invest or use, but one and a half is an OK figure.”
Towards the end of our talk, he says, “Don't take any chances. There's still a lot of them out there and some will want revenge for the destruction of their dream. They'll see you as the cause of the end of their dreams because they won't see you as having a right to defend yourself from their attacks. Keep your guard up.” I nod, because I totally agree with his assessment of the situation.
The following day I'm doing my shopping with my current shift of personal federal security, it seems they worked out the need to keep my guard up as well, when some men in dark suits approach us. While my security are watching them I notice a van moving up the street from thirty metres behind us. It going real slow and the sliding door on this side isn't shut, just pulled forward. This is easy to tell because the doors pop out before they go backwards. I close my eyes and have a look inside, two men with light machine guns and a third ready to open the door.
Opening my eyes I touch one of my security and tell her to take the other woman and get in my car, which is several metres up the street. She's about to argue, until she sees how serious I am, she nods and taps the other woman on the shoulder before heading to the car. The other woman glances at me and follows her.
Approaching the men and my security, I say, “Agent Horne, get out of the way and let them try to arrest me. I'll simply shoot them and we can get out of here a lot quicker.” The men in dark suits go a bit white and stare at me. I draw my Glock and point it at them, “Move over against the wall and let us by, or I start shooting.” They gulp and move aside, backs to the wall. When we start to walk by them I hear a car accelerate.
Glancing over my shoulder I see the van side door sliding back while it speeds up. When it's almost on us, I yell, “Down.” My security people hit the ground, but the men in suits are against the wall and have trouble getting low. I drop to a crouch and spin towards the van, opening fire when the first gunman opens fire. I rapid fire six rounds into the back of the van, two at each gunman and two at the doorman, all aimed at the junction of their upper thighs. I'm positive they've got body armour on and head shots are so difficult, so I'm going for high percentage disabling shots; heck, if I hit the artery there they're dead.
People scream at the sound of the gunfire. A few more shots from down the road, and I see the two ladies are shooting the driver and the man in the front passenger seat while the van approaches them. The van veers into the parked cars and stops. I look around me.
One of my security is on the radio calling for an ambulance while he looks for more threats. Another is carefully moving in on the van, so is one of the ladies. The other is covering her while Bob watches their back. One is checking the men in suits, two have very red chests from the van gunmen, one has a red arm, and one is on the ground shaking. Seems only one got out of the way in time and another nearly made it.
Sirens are screaming while they approach, and we all instinctively take a moment to move our IDs to where they can be seen with ease, while keeping our eyes on our various tasks. Those checking the van soon report four dead, two in the front seats with head shots, two in the back bled out with shot up groins, and a fifth with a shattered thigh.
The police arrive, and soon take over. By then the two chest hit DHS men are dead. An ambulance soon arrives to take the wounded away, with police escorts. We spend thirty minutes giving statements to the police. When we drive off the US Marshal I'd sent to the car is giving me another strange look, she's the same one that gave me an odd look the other day.
When we get back to the hotel and are about to split up to our rooms, I ask, “Marshal McIntyre, can I've a word in private, please?” She nods, and follows me into my room. I close the door, sit her down, offer her a drink - she takes a lemon soda, and say, “I'm sure you've noticed I'm a lot more aware of my surroundings than most people.” She nods. “I must ask you not to talk about it or to report the oddities you've noticed because they're my major advantages in this war.”
She smiles, “I'd love to know how you do it?”
I start to speak, and stop. I'm not prepared to tell a federal agent, but I have a brainwave. I need more security and these are people I know and trust. “Jo, how much do you like your work as a Marshal? Would you be prepared to take on permanent employment as part of my security team. Due to the last few days I'll need to keep a larger personal team than I've had in the past, so I'm seeking good recruits.”
She smiles, and says, “I'll have to think about that.”
Nodding, I ask her to organise for all she can of the combined team to be at dinner at the one time because I wish to talk to them together.
She says, “Sure,” and leaves.
At dinner I make the same announcement to the whole group, and get a lot of mixed reactions from them. Jo stands, saying, “OK, I've had more time to think about this because he asked me earlier. I don't know about the rest of you, but I know I'm as far as I'm likely to go in my job since I don't have what they're looking for in people for the next level. The idea of continuing on doing this exact same work as today is all I can look forward to. I've got the choice of being assigned to people I don't know, many of whom will treat me like trash because they don't want us, or doing it for a small group I do know and they treat me with respect. I prefer the small group. And the fact doing so means I'll be living in a luxury estate with good food and nice beds most of the time doesn't hurt a bit. I'm taking up the offer after this assignment here in DC is over.“ Her talk gets a few smiles, and I leave them to talk it over.
One of the US Marshals, Piet, follows me, and says, “Count me in.”
I smile, “One thing that's puzzled me, why are so many of the US Marshals in this detail female?”
He frowns, “One problem the service still has is they don't like assigning women to the harder jobs or the higher level positions. This means we've a lot of good operators who sit around with not much to do. This job was seen as being not so hard, physically - that is, so they assigned all the good women who were getting bored sitting around. This allowed them to keep the men for the harder jobs. Fred and I volunteered for this assignment, and they allowed it simply to have a couple of men who can follow you into the toilet. It's the same with the FBI, except they've fewer females trained for this type of work, so they only have three on their team; but they often assign them to the shift with less risks likely.” I nod, and thank him for his honesty and the information. It seems likely I'll end up with most of them.
A little later Jo approaches me, “I think most of the current team are interested. Since you won't need as big a team, how many do you want?”
I think a moment, “I think about double the current team. I'm not sure, and I'll need specialist advice from some of you. My personal team can be reduced after we leave DC, but I've got to consider the rest of my family. I've got two girlfriends, two sisters, and two parents who'll need some level of coverage as well. Five of those six are female, so the more females the better. I'd even prefer half my team be females, because I've noticed the attackers seem to down rate the danger you ladies represent to them, the fools. I don't care what the relationship status is of the people, I don't even mind if they establish personal relationships within the team. My primary concerns will be the ability to do the job, a clean security assessment, and willingness to relocate to the estate; I'll build more housing if I need to. Oh, can someone get me a copy of your pay rates and mark what the pay for your current level is, because I intend to pay at the one above that or what the private sector rates are, if higher.”
She smiles, and goes back to talk to the others.
Later I see a lot of them writing, and learn all but four of the male FBI agents are resigning as of the end of this current assignment. Jo takes time to tell me she and the other women are contacting all the other agents they know who are fed up with their agency, especially the females. I smile, because this means I'll get quality trained staff with ease.
I get a phone call from Major Erwin, a sniper had been seen trying to get a line of sight into the estate, he had a bad car accident soon after that. They're tracing the numbers on his cell phone.
Both major political parties are in an uproar. Many senior members of both parties in both houses are dead, most are suicide, but some are killed while resisting arrest. And many others are under arrest for corruption. A number of lobby groups who handed out lots of money are disbanding, too, because many of their supporters are under arrest.
The independent members of both houses are busy pushing for big changes to the legislation the DHS operates under, and the media are strongly supporting them. The political fallout of this may change the shape of politics in this country for many years.
On another front, acting on information provided by the FBI, the IRS and Department of Administrative Services attack companies who have a lot of government contracts with an army of tough auditors. They're quick to find several hundred million in overcharges that are to be paid back. This'll have a flow on effect in the political parties too, because the ones concerned are also heavy donors to the parties.
The biggest ripple is from home, they're all concerned for me and want me back inside ' the fence' as soon as possible. I let them know I'll be back as soon as I can organise it with safety.
The middle of the following week and it's obvious the committee is finished with me. It's also obvious to all concerned there's nothing I can do in DC now. All the relevant agencies have sat me down with my lawyers, their lawyers, and court officials to have me go through depositions on all the events they're investigating, federal and local. This means my testimony can be used, even if the other side do kill me. With all that out of the way we organise for me to head home by car.
The early parts of the trip are very comical, and they make it clear some of the powerful players behind The Group are still calling some shots despite the heavy losses in money, organisers, and materiel. The best ways home are to go South, South-West, or West - depending upon your tourist itinerary. I head East and then North-East to Atlantic City, because I want to hurt one corporation that owns a few casinos there.
On my way there I call a few people I know from school who go to universities and colleges close enough to be able to meet us there for some helpful fund raising. On the Saturday morning we arrive in town and meet them in a large bar near Stockton College, one recommended by a local. A few bring some friends, like I suggested, and there's about thirty in attendance. We all get sorted and sit down with drinks. My security team move out a bit further, as I already let them know they don't want to hear what I'm planning. They smile when they move off.
I look around the group, and say, “Right, I'm offering you people a chance to make some good money for yourselves without any risk. But you have to learn some signals and do exactly what I say. As you know from the news, I've a problem with some people; and they own a few of the casinos here. I want to take a few teams into the casinos and have you bet as I direct. I'll give you the seed money and you'll place bets of five hundred dollars as I direct you to. When we're finished you pay me one thousand dollars and keep the rest. But you must bet as I say, and only five hundred dollars each time. I'll have different teams work different tables. While I'm not directing your team you don't bet. When we've fleeced one casino we move to the next one. We'll be playing Craps, and don't expect to be betting on every throw of the dice. Also, let the dice go by if offered to you. Don't stand as a group, and try not to look like a big group while we go in or leave. I expect you to pair or triple up and enter in those small groups, leaving the same way.”
A few are sceptical, but those that know me know I've been winning regularly around home. One nice blond girl, says, “What have we got to lose, he gives us the money to start and we keep anything we win over a grand. I'll do it, provided I only have to pay up if I've got more than a grand when we're finished.” I nod agreement, so the rest are in.
The next thirty minutes are spent with me showing and explaining a number of hand signs with their meanings, these will be how I tell them what to bet on in the casino because I'll be on the other side of the table to them, and where they can see me with ease.
The thirty-two students are split into five groups, two of seven and three of six. I hand out the money and we head off to the first casino in the minimal number of vehicles, with most of the students car-pooling. There are three casinos I want to hit and each has five or more Craps tables in them.
We've no troubles with everyone getting into the first casino, and they move around the floor examining everything real well. Group One is nearby when I move up to the Craps table furthest from the entrance. It takes about twenty minutes of signalling them to bet two out of three bets for them each to win twenty-five thousand dollars. I signal them to back off, and cause some more fun by having the bet options with the most money payouts on them come up for several rolls. Moving to the next table I start with Group Two while Group One filters out to the cars. After everyone has won twenty-five thousand here we move on. I'd been betting as well, placing thousand dollar bets, but mixing them up with the students' bets so the pit bosses won't make a connection between me and them. Between us we walk out with just over one million dollars, and they had a lot of other winning high rollers too.
Out at the cars the students are very happy and are quick to pay me the one thousand dollars promised. Off to the next casino, for a repeat. By the time we reach the third casino someone's warned them it's an odd day, so I take extra care with the students and I make larger bets.
By the time I send the last of the students outside I'm placing a few two thousand dollar bets, the house limit, and winning up a storm. The whole of their security force is focussed on me. I keep at it until they ask me to stop. While they add up my chips I set about causing more major wins for the general public. I walk out of the casino with a check for two and a quarter million dollars, having spread about ten thousand dollars of tips amongst the staff.
I notice a lot of heavies in the lobby when I get ready to leave. As per my arrangements two FBI agents walk in and approach me, they flash their badges, and the lead agent says, “FBI, we have a few questions we'd like you to answer, Sir.” The casino security ask what's happening, and he says, “We have some more questions for this man about some recent events in Washington, DC. Have a good day.”
We all head back to Stockton, arriving back at the bar about nine hours after leaving. I've the students visit a local bank and deposit most of their winnings, they keep a few hundred out and still deposit just over seventy-five thousand dollars each. That's their education sorted, and then some. All the students involved are hard workers with good marks, but not much money, which is why I called them in. I also put the cheque and most of my cash winnings in my bank, two and a half million dollars' worth. I shout everyone to a top meal in a good local restaurant. The security staff enjoy the meal because I feed them too.
While we're eating one, of the students says, “That's some betting system you've got there. Care to tell us exactly how it works?” All the federal agents pay very close attention when I reply.
“Actually, I feel running a casino is stealing from the public, so it's OK to steal from them. Especially those three owned by people trying to kill me. Between us and the other patrons I'm sure they collectively lost between nine and ten million last night. Oh, I don't use a system, I used a new method to cheat that they can't detect.”
They all look stunned, and one FBI agents asks, “How?”
“Well, I've got this invisible flying saucer overhead and they use rays to control the dice. Sadly, the controls aren't fine enough to make it work on roulette without it being obvious. I make hand signs as to what I want done, based on the situation at the table, and the crew do it. They're aliens and are helping me out because they owe me big favour.” Everyone bursts out laughing when they realise I've got no intention of telling them how I do it.
When we break up the blond from earlier, says, in a soft voice, “I always did wonder if low powered telekinesis had any worthwhile uses, now I know. Thanks, I won't let on to anyone.”
I smile at her, “Let on what, I've got friendly aliens helping me?” She grins, and walks off.
We've got a few hours before we have to crash for the night, so after I see all the students safely on their way we head out to spend the night in Tom's River.
The next day we leave the hotel heading North, when we lose the tail we have we turn due West. The Dragons deal with the tail, just like they dealt with the many people who were watching for us to leave Washington headed South or West. They've a very loose circle around us identifying and removing any burrs we pick up.
We take our time travelling, and stop at many places to enjoy the local attractions. At Columbus we turn South-West to Nashville, more Westward to Memphis, Little Rock, turn full West to Oklahoma City, to Amarillo, and Albuquerque. Taking our time because we want to make sure we find a lot of burrs to deal with, thus reducing the number available for use by the enemy later. Also, with them just vanishing it's sure to make them wonder about loyalty and where they're going. The Dragons are making sure the burrs vanish and never reappear. I've no idea how they're doing this, but do hope it works well and doesn't come back to bite them later.
Mary, Peg, and I concentrate on college while Bron and Cadi work hard at school, but we all continue to move with a couple of security guards, most are ex US Marshals, whenever we go outside the estate. A couple of nice apartment complexes are added for staff, one for singles and one for marrieds with family. The estate now has plenty of living space and the buildings make up three sides of a square with the open recreational areas in between. This increases the security a lot, since it's now almost impossible to see into the outside recreational area from anywhere off the estate, except by helicopter.
On advice from the new senior security officer the walls are getting detection upgrades and reinforcing. The fourth side of the main open air recreational area is getting a building for our vehicles, workshop, and two gyms; one for workouts with equipment and one for general exercise and martial arts. The aim is to make the estate as independent and self-contained as possible. When all the work is finished the only reasons to go off the estate will be education, work, to buy things, and major entertainment as we'll do our basic relaxation and entertainment on the estate. The work also includes some exercise tracks for people and horses inside the estate, but outside the inner compound area. The estate now has some nice landscaping to help security, and sensors all over it.
To keep up the proper appearances I continue to go gambling on a regular basis, adding quite a bit to the corporate revenue. I knew I'd won a great deal in Las Vegas and Atlantic City, but hadn't totalled the revenue for the year until I get a summary sheet from the accountant; over seven million dollars revenue for the year.
Operating costs are up a bit when I insist we give all administrative staff a good bonus each, to have an even amount to distribute. By the time the taxes and operating costs are taken out we're left with five million to distribute. That's half a million each for Mum and Dad, and a quarter a million for each of the girls, while I get three and a half million, plus the four hundred thousand per diem and wages. And the interest on my existing bank balances gives me a total income of four and a quarter million for the year. Then I've the one and a half billion from The Group as undeclared income too. I don't think I'll have any cash problems for some time.
With the interest collected to date, Cadi has almost half a million waiting for her to turn eighteen. Bron is staggered by how much she's getting just for being my sister and part of the company, but she's not going wild with it. Sure she's buying herself some nice clothes, but she's also getting some good advice on how to invest most of it for when she starts working. And she keeps to a reasonable allowance, so her money isn't showing that much because she tries to live off the interest.
Bron hasn't made her mind up about what to study in university and is talking about taking a year off to work first, it's not as if she needs a scholarship to go to university when she wants to. She thinks some real world work experience will help her work out what to study. I agree with her. We all pass our end of year exams well.
Major Erwin rings to let me know there's some trouble brewing for the casinos in our area. They're all owned by various Native American Indian tribes and there's some pressure being applied to them, both in Congress and financially. On his advice I make an appointment to talk to someone in their management structure. A meeting is set for the next Saturday morning, and it includes representatives of all the casinos.
We meet at the Sandia Resort and Casino, in a nice medium sized conference room they have. The representatives from each of the tribal groups affected tells about what their problems are, and Major Erwin explains what his people have found out. In summary, a section of what is left of The Group are applying pressure to get control of the casinos because they see this as a way to improve their chances of kidnapping me. I apologise to the people present for my troubles overflowing on to them, and we set about sorting out how to protect everyone.
After a long conference we come to a set of arrangements. For the near future I'll stop visiting the local casinos and take more trips to Vegas and Atlantic City to work the casinos controlled by The Group. Also, if any get into real trouble they'll let me know and I'll help them. Otherwise they'll just ride this out while they see how it develops.
I don't visit any casinos for a week and make arrangements for the next weekend to be away from home, just Mary, Peg, and I with some guards. On the Friday afternoon we head South.
Soon after we leave the estate we're told of a number of vehicles following us. We head South on Highway 25, and just after we pass Isleta Pueblo most of the following convoy speed ahead. It must be clear to all we aren't going to a local casino. I smile when we take the turn off near Belen and head for Alexander Municipal Airport with only one tail car on us. At Alexander we get out and board a nice fast business jet, flying out while Mark takes the car home. While we board I notice the one trail vehicle that stayed with us has a person talking on the radio.
After a nice flight we land at McCarran Airport in Vegas. Captain Collins is there to meet us with some armoured cars and extra security staff. It's a short ride to the casino hotel we booked. We're fairly certain The Group know of our arrival within minutes because we're booked in at one of their hotels under the name of Manning because Peg made the arrangements. We've the whole of the top floor - the penthouse.
During the course of the weekend the girls enjoy the shows and love watching me take the casinos owned by The Group for all we can. No messing about, the biggest bets I can get away with. I know they can't ask me to leave as they're very busy trying to organise my kidnapping on short notice. We make a point of not having any food or drinks supplied by the hotel, except what we buy from them still sealed.
I don't know exactly what happened, but the security people later tell me they had to deal with some intruders Saturday night. They did it the easy way, and sent them back downstairs via the balconies.
We leave Sunday just after lunch. After paying our bill and getting a detailed receipt. I stop on the way out to deposit cheques for eight and a half million dollars. Not bad, I'd been limiting myself to about one hundred thousand a week at the Indian Casinos, and am now doing millions on a weekend, nice. I also spread the winning about too.
As we leave the casino our Lear jet leaves McCarran for Henderson Executive Airport, where we meet it and board. I'm later told there were some odd road works between the casino and McCarran Airport. It's a heck of a shuffle game we're playing, but it's all to ensure our safety while giving us a chance at identifying the opposition players.
The next weekend Bron and Cadi join us when we fly out of Sunport Airport by business jet to North Las Vegas Airport. The jet drops us and flies out for Arizona. Captain Collins takes us to the same casino, this time the penthouse booking is in his name.
A repeat of last weekend, and we leave after I bank ten and a half million dollars. We leave in some cars headed South. At Henderson Executive Airport we board a different business jet that lands just as we get there, we board and leave straight away. We land at Sunport Airport and head home.
The following weekend Mary, Peg, and I depart Sunport Airport to Atlantic City Municipal Airport to visit the casino I went to after my last trip North. This time Captain Weinberg heads the security team.
After a fun weekend we leave after I bank just over twelve million dollars of winnings. Captain Weinberg tells me about a terrible bus accident near Great Island; two buses crashed, killing over seventy fit men. The police are very interested because they had a lot of unlawful guns on the buses, many of them being military grade weapons.
We leave the shore as if going to Atlantic City International Airport and swing South on the Garden State Parkway. Leaving it at Somers Point to meet our jet at Ocean City Municipal Airport and fly back to Sunport Airport.
We keep using Sunport because we already have great security there and we want to establish a pattern of our return flights in the minds of our opposition.
Figuring they've the majority of the airports covered we decide to play mind games with them. On Friday afternoon we drive North to stop at Casino Hollywood in San Felipe for a nice early dinner. After dinner we leave the casino and head North again, meeting our jet at the Santa Fe Municipal Airport. We land at McCarran and head for the same major casino as last time, booking for Cartier this time.
We enjoy another good weekend and I walk off with fifteen million of their money mid-afternoon Sunday. We head South from the casino and depart from Boulder City Municipal Airport for Sunport.
I figure by now they're getting very pissed at the way we keep avoiding their traps and the costs of maintaining so many around the country. The casino losses aren't helping them, either.
This time we drive out of the estate for Double Eagle Airport mid Friday afternoon. We arrive just as our jet is taxing in to pick us up, and head out again. At the North Las Vegas Airport they drop us off and take off again. Back to the same casino and penthouse. In our earlier visits we left a few surprises, so we've no trouble using our surveillance cameras to find theirs.
Leaving Collins to debug the suite I head to the casino for an early start on the tables. Like the past few weeks, when I take a short break I ensure people on the other tables are winning big too.
About three in the morning on Saturday I'm woken, and I wake the girls. We all slip into military quality body armour and helmets, full coverage gear. Then we wait. The outside people saw them setting up.
Ten minutes after we're ready they hit. Attack teams come through the stairs, the supposedly locked off elevator, and crash through the windows. They open fire with sound suppressed automatic weapons, killing all the security staff on duty - they think. They just shot the hell out of a bunch of life size blow up dolls sitting in our places. When they move in to check on the kills we open fire from hiding places with shotguns, the AA-12s soon rip them apart, as well as the penthouse.
Fire teams hiding on the ground and roof soon deal with attackers left watching over their vehicles and ropes. I wonder where they keep getting the skilled fighters, one hundred and fifty six dead in this raid. They'd hit every part of the penthouse at the same time, using what they thought was massive overkill; they were wrong. If they'd caught us napping they might have been right.
The police are quick to respond to the sounds of the gunfight. The guns of the attackers are sound suppressed, but our shotguns aren't. The hotel management aren't happy at having to relocate us to another floor, but the penthouse isn't liveable and is now a crime scene; the police will be a long time removing bodies and evidence. I later learn the repairs to the penthouse are seven million dollars and the insurance company won't cover it due to negligence by the hotel management in regards to leaving high security locks on the roof, stairs, and elevator unlocked. No one can prove they were involved, but they can prove they were negligent in regards to the security.
When I leave late Sunday afternoon I bank cheques for twenty-one and a half million dollars. I also hear one of the staff mention they'd paid out cheques totalling over one hundred million on the weekend. I didn't get much sleep, because I was very busy rigging games for other people.
We leave the casino headed towards Henderson Executive Airport, but cut towards Boulder City, then down 95 to cut across to Bullhead City, meeting the jet at Laughlin Bullhead International Airport to fly back to Sunport Airport. Laughing all the way.
Captain Collins keeps sending us updates on the surveillance of their strike teams while they rush around all over the place. They try to set up to hit us at Henderson Executive Airport, Boulder City Municipal Airport, and Hoover Dam, just outside Arrowhead Junction, and just before Golden Valley. But we keep side stepping them, again.
I take some time off from my studies to sneak out with two guards, on Tuesday night. Using a light plane we fly to Mesquite Airport and meet up with Captain Collins in a nondescript armoured mobile home, to take us to Las Vegas. We park near the target casino and three of our men go in to make big bets on the craps tables.
The men watch a fourth for signals on what to bet on, and Collins tells him what to signal through our micro radios. I stay in the back of the mobile home telling him what to say. Between their bets, one every couple of minutes, I influence the other tables to give the high rollers good wins, and plenty of the low rollers riding the percentage bets wins as well. After a few hours they come out with two million dollars each, I've Collins bank it in the Dragons' Welfare Fund, this goes to help families of those killed and the men who're hurt too bad to work. Since the cheques are made out to the men they get to have the receipts and write it off as a tax deduction too.
Since the casino is open twenty-four hours we've men rotating in every few hours for the next day and a half while I stay awake on coffee. By the time I'm ready to call it quits the Welfare Fund is up by seventy-five million dollars and the casino pays out over two hundred million dollars to various winners.
We reverse the trip and I go home while I wonder how well the casino is handling such high losses.
At home I sneak back in and have a good long sleep.
This time we set them up for a quick hit. Mary, Peg, Bron, and I travel down together; they're on the payroll for this weekend. We take a jet from Sunport Airport to Henderson Executive Airport mid-afternoon on Friday. After checking in at a hotel close by we head for the casino - their penthouse is still being fixed.
We all stop at the same table and get ready to place maximum bets on the same result. When the time comes the four of us place bets of twenty-five thousand dollars on the shooter rolling twelve. The person on the table is new and doesn't know me, so he thinks this is an easy win for the house due to the odds involved. Before the Pit Boss can do anything the shooter is throwing the dice. All the senior casino staff turn very green around the gills when the dice come up as two sixes, one hundred thousand dollars at thirty to one gives us a payout of three million dollars on the one throw of the dice.
We very kindly take the four cheques and hand them to one of our security staff to run across and bank for us, with money to pay for an immediate clearance. We wait a few minutes before we bet for a two on another roll. Another set of cheques for three million. The Pit Boss tells us he's refusing any bets by us for any of the top five payouts.
Our next set of bets is for a shooter to make his point of six the hard way at nine to one odds. Another easy nine hundred thousand dollars. As the upset Pit Boss steps forward we step back from the table and smile at him. We stand and talk for a few minutes while I set up major wins for people on all the Craps tables in the house.
We leave the immediate gaming area and change coats with some of the security who're the same build as us. At another table I've Mary and Bron joined by two of the security people while Peg and I watch from a little distance. On my signal all four place maximum bets for a roll of twelve, and earn another three million. Before the Pit Boss can get over to freak out I get them to bet on it again on the next throw. So by the time the Pit Boss arrives to scream at us he's got to write out cheques for another six million. The girls are laughing when they go, while I stand in a corner and work the tables for wins all over.
After causing some major wins for people we head back to our hotel for a late dinner. The girls are laughing about the wins because we got twelve million and nine hundred thousand dollars. They each won a quarter of that and are getting one percent as their pay. So they earned thirty-two thousand, two hundred, and fifty dollars in a few hours. We retire for the night. I spend half of it awake while causing payout havoc.
The next morning we return to the casino and front up at the tables. New crews and we're dressed in different clothes. We alerted a few of the television news crews of something about to happen at the casino. Alerted by our people they watch us front the Craps table and place our bets, winning another easy three million dollars. The Pit Boss races over and orders us out, but not until we get another roll of the dice in; the news teams get it all. We leave with another six million dollars.
Once outside the casino we stand as a close group with the casino name very prominent in the background. The news crews see our placing and get the right angles before they ask us about what they just saw. I say, “We arrived last night and made five maximum bet wins before they kicked us out, now they kick us out after two winning bets. So we got lucky on seven bets and they had to pay out just on nineteen million dollars to us. The fact they're kicking us out because we win big makes me wonder if they've enough money to operate properly. Maybe the Gaming Commissioners need to check their books, because I can't see any other reason they may object to winners.”
One of the news crews is smart enough to ring the studio, who ring the Gaming Commissioners, and the interview is broadcast within a few minutes of being made. Within the hour the Commissioners are at the Casino and investigating it, a complete check of their books and recent events.
While this is going on I'm sitting in a car outside and causing more heavy bets to win at the Craps tables. The tables are soon closed for investigation, and found to be clean.
The stations show our interview and film of the Commissioners checking the casino, so attendance at the casino is very low later. That night the place looks empty. After a few heavy losses on the Craps tables they close them. Causing most of the people present to leave the casino and go to other venues.
The big news on Sunday morning is the Commissioners cancelling the licence for the casino until after they conduct a very thorough investigation because the company isn't as financially sound and secure as required by the state laws. The loss of over one and a half billion dollars in the last year has weakened their financial stability.
We depart after lunch Sunday for Boulder City Municipal Airport, after the girls talk about the trip to the airport while shopping during the morning. Just after we turn off to Veterans Memorial Drive we're stopped at some road works.
When we stop the whole area comes alive with gunmen shooting at the security vehicles and our driver. We check the doors are locked and sit tight. These aren't our normal armoured cars with civilian permitted armour, these are special tactical field combat vehicles for military use in a combat zone, and have heavy duty armour. They're imported from Australia by the Dragons; they look like long wheel base Land Rovers with six wheels and are a lot more civilian looking than the US military Humvees, but are much tougher then the US military Humvees.
A moment after the gunmen open fire we spot helicopters rise from Boulder City Municipal Airport and head our way. In a few seconds we hear the snarl of the machine guns on the two Apache helicopters when they open fire on the gunmen. They're soon joined by the snarl of the heavy machine guns mounted on the side of the two Blackhawks. The four helicopters fly over the area blasting everything they don't like the look of. While the Apaches make another run over us the Blackhawks land and discharge fire teams.
After a five minute wait another of our cars arrives and we swap to it for the rest of the airport trip. The Dragons wait for the police, and help with the clean-up while we fly home to Sunport Airport.
Later Major Erwin lets me know the attack force was two hundred and fifty mercenaries with full military grade weapons. I wisely don't ask about the helicopters or how they got them.
The member of The Group that owns the casino ends up having to sell it at a loss because its physical assets are undervalued and it has no good will worth talking about, and no licence now. This news makes me happy. The girls are very happy with their pay of forty-seven thousand, two hundred, and fifty dollars each, and are busy planning on what to buy.
Major Erwin stops by to tell me that between the various attacks and the little clean-up opportunities his people had taken, the enemy are now short over six hundred mercenaries. Also, the word is out on the streets - The Group doesn't research their jobs well or arm the troops properly, they just send them out as cannon fodder in the hopes they can score a win. The result is very few are prepared to listen to the recruiters hiring for The Group now. I tell him of my decision to stop the gambling visits, and he sighs with relief because they can use the troops that frees up in other operations. I tell him to thank them for me. And he thanks me for the money for their welfare fund.
Having created a gambling revenue of eighty-six million and nine hundred thousand dollars for the year so far I decide to stop gambling for the rest of the year. I tell the account this and he starts to process the end of year accounts. Expenses are high due to all the jets, and we end up with an estimated sixty-five million to distribute, assuming the other costs for the year are as normal. Mum and Dad are very shocked to learn they've got six and a half million dollars each, Cadi has three and a quarter million dollars, while Bron's payout is three million and four hundred thousand (taxes ate a bit of her special work pay), while I get forty-five million and nine hundred thousand dollars.
What's real funny is the looks on the faces of Maggie and Matt when we tell them Mary and Peg earned one hundred and forty thousand dollars each on the weekend away. The accountant is able to cut down on their personal tax by putting it through the company books and absorbing most that way, but not all of the taxes. The girls invest most of the money wisely. We've more fun, when Matt says, “Well, I now know their education is definitely taken care off.”
Peg says, “But, Dad, didn't you know Ani paid for all our fees up front when we first signed up at the uni?” Neither he or Maggie had been told by me because I naturally assumed the girls would tell them, and the girls assumed I'd tell them both. They're stunned again.
With me stopping the trips for gambling we've a lot more time to spend together on the weekends, and do. It's also harder for the enemy to organise to get at us.
Things settle down and are quiet for a few weeks.
It's a nice Saturday morning in mid October when Cadi and I head into the mall to do some shopping. Last month I found a job working sales at a jewellery store and today we're going to buy some jewels to wear on a fancy evening out, so we're heading to where I work to buy some. This is my first Saturday off since I got the job, so they'll be very surprised to see me.
We get out of the car at the mall entrance with three of our security detail; it's just after ten in the morning. The car drives off while we walk in the entrance. We just walk in, chatting, forming a lose group with me in the middle, nothing intentional, just how it is. About four metres inside the front entrance we're hit by a wave of men. They're too close for us to use our hand guns, so we're down to fists.
Cadi wades into the men nearest her and I hear the necks snapping straight away, and many more bones breaking where the three women guards with us fight the men. Because I'm in the middle of our group I've got a bit more time to react than the rest. Instead of going for my Glock I pull out the two Bond Arms .410 calibre Defender pistols I've got hidden in my belt, while I say a prayer of thanks to Ani for getting them and his insisting I learn to fire them well with both hands.
Holding one in each hand I raise my left hand to head height and push it between the two guards on my left. Turning my wrist a little I slip the safety off and fire the very short barrelled mini-shotgun. I'm very surprised and happy with the result. The three men closest to it lose significant parts of their heads and a few more behind them scream when the pellets pepper their necks and faces. Angling back a bit more, I trigger the second shot for a similar result.
With the breathing space this creates on my left the security team pull out their hand guns and start shooting the rest on their side and the front in rapid fire.
Turning from the action on my left I see a man now has Cadi from behind and is turning to drag her away. I step towards them and point my second Defender at the three men he's turning towards. When I'm ready to fire the back of his head is almost beside my hand when I slip the safety off and squeeze the trigger. I grin when he shivers just as a small section of the back of his head vanishes at the same time as the faces of the other three become bloody messes. I turn and point the Defender at the group of men in front of our third security guard. I squeeze the trigger, and a few faces vanish while a few more get big red holes in them.
I slip the Defenders into my dress pocket while I take out my Glock and open fire on the rest of the men, aiming for the very top of the chest, above where their body armour should end. When I'm about to fire I jump when Cadi opens up with her Defenders. Two rounds to the side and two rounds behind us, and we've next to nothing left to deal with on this side.
What's left of the attack team are pulling back when we all open up with our hand guns, having a short exchange of fire with them. The last four break and run, until we shoot them in the upper thighs to slow them down. They all fall to the floor, and the hit knocks their hand guns loose. Mall security are quick to dart out and retrieve the weapons.
We don't blame the mall security people for keeping back, because they're unarmed. They all know us, so they don't see us as a threat.
I stand there and look around at the bloody mess. For about four or five metres in a circle around us is a ring of blood, gore, and bodies. I give up counting after I hit thirty. Later the police tell us the attack team had fifty men; two escaped, three survived their wounds, and the rest died in the fight, many from the shotguns, with only a few from the hand fighting.
While we survey the mess I pull out my cell phone and call Ani. He answers on the second ring, and I tell him what happened. After that I ring Captain Matt, then Mum, telling them both what happened.
The police arrive while I'm on the phone. After hanging up I show them my licence and take time to reload all my weapons. They take a lot of photos before they move a few bodies so we can walk out of the mess with ease and safety. They take our statements.
I'm feeling a lot happier when Captain Matt arrives. He walks over, shaking his head while he surveys the mess. He's about to speak when his phone rings. He answers it, and his face goes very pale. Apologising to us he has one of his men stay with us and he races off.
About twenty minutes later we're free to go. Not feeling like doing any shopping at the moment, we head home for a long rest. Cadi calls our driver and he comes back to the entrance for us. We get in and go home.
It's been a very busy day, and it's only just going on lunch time.
About twenty past ten on a nice Saturday morning in mid October Peg and I exit the small mall near the estate. We've had our hair done in a different style. We're walking back to the car with our guards when some cars near us burst open and a lot of men come at us.
Three of the security team are quick to pull out their handguns and fire at the attackers because most of the men have guns in their hands. The fourth guard starts to rush us to the car, then some emergency exits behind us burst open when another group of men rush out of them. Peter is soon down with a knife in his side, but not before he breaks the necks of three of them. Peg and I aren't that well trained in fighting and such, so we're soon overwhelmed. I do manage to get one of the Bond Arms mini-shotguns out of its concealed holster and into my hand.
I can't do much because a man has his arms wrapped around me. I'm lifted up and carried to the gutter, Peg is in just as bad a position. A limousine pulls up to us when we near the gutter. The back door opens and two men in their late twenties are sitting in the back. They leer at me as the man leans down to push me into the back of the limousine.
Snarling at the men I point the Defender upwards, slip off the safety, and squeeze the trigger. The shot blows out the back window just behind them, taking out half their heads and faces with it. Blood and gore is splashed all over the inside and back of the fancy car. The man holding me starts to pull back from the mess. When he does his grip loosens. I move my arm a little and turn the Defender towards his leg. Shoving the barrel against his leg I fire the second round. He screams and lets go of me; we both fall to the ground. While I fall I pull my other Defender out of its hidden holster and reach up towards the man holding Peg. Reaching past Peg's legs I push the safety off and squeeze the trigger. He screams and falls.
Rolling over on the ground I point the Defender upwards at the group standing over Peter and fire the last round. They're a bit over two metres away, beyond the recommended range for this because the shot is very quick to spread. Five of the men move back while they grab at faces or throats, some of them screaming.
I move to stand up, only to have Peg knock my feet out from under me. When I hit the ground I hear her Defenders fire in four spaced shots. Looking around, I see a number of the men from the first attack group had been headed this way, most are now rolling around on the ground with their hands to their faces.
I start to move again when I hear a screech of car tyres. Turning to the sound I look over to see Ani's car coming to a halt. Before it stops the back door opens and Ani bursts out with his helmet on and a big shotgun in his hands.
I smile when our man charges in with this huge gun in rapid fire going boom, boom, boom while he moves in on the attackers. I look over at the attackers, and large holes appear in their ranks with each boom. I can't count the booms because they're rolling out so fast. In what seems like seconds he's standing over us and blasting anything that even looks like it may be headed our way.
Another moment and all the shooting stops. Ani looks about, then swings the shotgun up onto his back before he reaches down for us. Standing, I melt against him while I try to meld into him with a big hug. I feel so safe with his arm around me and his other around Peg.
Just then the police arrive. Ani takes over and tells them what to do while he makes a cell call. A little later Dad arrives and rushes over to hug us. We spend about thirty minutes sitting in a police car while we settle down and give our statements before heading home with Dad.
Saturday morning in mid October and I'm on my way down-town to do some shopping. All the girls have already left to do some shopping, while Mum and Dad are doing some paperwork at home.
Just after ten fifteen I get a call from Bron saying they've just been attacked. I tell her to call Captain Matt and I tell Mark to head for the mall Mary and Peg are at. We're only a couple of streets away, but he plants his foot down and speeds towards it while I access the boot for my helmet and an AA-12 shotgun. I slip the helmet on and take off the safety just as we pull into the car park.
Looking out the window I can see two groups of men around a stopped limousine with some of the girls' security team exchanging fire with a large group of armed men and another smaller group is on the other side of the limousine. Mark hits the brakes when we near the scene. We're almost stopped when I throw the door open and step out, bringing the shotgun up as I do.
Spotting Mary and Peg on the ground I fire my first two rounds at the small group of men near them while I stride over to the girls. With the closest threat eliminated I turn the shotgun on the main group, and fire as fast as I can pull the trigger while traversing the enemy group. They seem to melt before the wall of lead I send their way.
By the time I reach the girls the enemy are all out of action. Both girls get up and give me a hug when I slip the shotgun behind me out of the way, hanging on its sling. I call Matt while I hug them; he's only a few streets away and coming over. I've a good hold of the girls for only a few seconds when one of the security team calls out for help.
Hearing a screech of tyres I turn, to see Matt pulling up. Directing the girls to their father I move to where one of the guards is down on the ground with another fighting hard to stop the flow of blood from the thigh of the guard lying down.
Damn, it's Jo and she's hit high in the thigh. I reach out with my Calling skill and pinch the end of the artery spilling her life onto the ground. I call to Matt to radio for an Intensive Care Ambulance and for the nearest hospital to get set for an emergency operation. I stand there, like a statue, while I keep her artery closed off. While the other two women discuss why she's not bleeding when they can't get a pressure point on the artery due to how high the hit is.
I notice one sees me standing there with a very concentrated look, then she glances at Jo. Lucy stands and walks over, to whisper, “You've stopped the blood loss, haven't you?” I nod while I put a finger to my lips, because I don't want to lose concentration.
The ambulance arrives and the paramedics can't understand why Jo isn't bleeding while still breathing. They're quick to treat her other minor wounds and load her in the ambulance, I get in with her. So do two of my security team and a police officer. It's a bit crowded, so one of my people sits in the front beside the driver.
At the hospital they rush her into a theatre and I follow along. My two guards stop to scrub, but I don't, I go in and stand in the corner. One of my people enters in scrubs and starts cleaning me up where I stand. He knows I'm not leaving and is doing everything to make us all happy. The doctor arrives and starts to wave us all out.
I call him over, and say, in a soft voice, “Doctor, I've got to stay close by until you've repaired the artery. If I get too far away I can't keep it shut anymore, so please hurry.” Both Piet, my security guard, and Doctor Hanley give me strange look for a moment.
Hanley's eyes go wide with surprise. He whispers, “Telekinetic?” I nod and hold up two fingers very close together. He nods.
A hectic twenty minutes follows when he starts cutting into Jo's thigh with only a local anaesthetic; he can't wait for a general to take effect on her. As quick as he can he has the damaged area open and inserting a section of replacement for the artery, sealing it to the rest. He stands back and nods at me. With slow care I open my mind grip on the artery, and the blood starts to flow; no leaks, so he smiles and nods. He gets back to work to finish the surgery.
I leave the operating theatre, and meet the rest of her regular team. I smile and nod, so they sigh. I move Lucy aside, and almost whisper, “I've mild telekinetic skills. I was able to use it to clamp the artery where you couldn't reach, well above the damage. They've replaced the damage section and it's holding. Please, no discussion about my skills.” She nods while giving me a small smile.
I move off with a police officer and give my statement about events while we wait for them to finish the other surgery. About half an hour later Doctor Hanley walks out and tells us she'll be OK, all's fixed, but she won't be able to put a lot of pressure on the injured leg any more, no running or anything stressing it at all. I nod while we all smile to know our friend and workmate will be well.
I ring home and tell Mum how things stand before calling my head of security to advise Jo's status. He tells me her family are already on the way to town, because he's arranged their flight from San Diego in a hired jet. They'll be met at the airport and taken to the hospital.
I leave a security detail to see to the safety of Jo and Peter. His wound wasn't life threatening and he'll probably be out in a few days, but he needs to be in hospital for a while, just to be safe. I'm angry with myself because I didn't realise he was badly hurt.
The rest of us go home for a late lunch.
After cleaning up and having lunch we all sit down in the lounge room to recount what happened in each location while we have some hot chocolate as a restorative.
Major Erwin comes in to tell us the intelligence from the strikes. Over one hundred operatives involved, plus heaven knows how many others waiting at other locations. The big news is the two men Mary took out in the limousine. They're the two eldest sons of a very rich and powerful businessman not associated with The Group before. There's no way they would've been involved without their father's knowledge, and he'll be very upset about their deaths.
I ask the major to find out where their daddy will be Monday, so we can go and pay him a visit. He nods while he gives me a strange look.
Mid-afternoon I get told Jo's family is at the hospital, and head over to see her and them.
At the private room Jo is in I walk into the middle of an argument between Jo and her youngest brother. It seems he's supposed to be at a weekend long camp to do with a company scholarship to MIT, leaving the camp means he's blown all chances of the scholarship. Jo is not happy about him missing out on his education and is offering all her savings, while he's saying she'll need them to live on while looking for a new job.
I interrupt, with, “Looking for a new job! Are you quitting on me, Jo?” She gives me an odd look, and waves at her leg. “So, we find you something a bit more sedate to do. It may mean a different pay scale once we find you a new job, but you're on full pay until the doctors kick you free after rehabilitation. We also pick up the medical costs. We look after our staff.”
Her parents are surprised at such a young man telling her what to do, but soon realise I must be her employer. I introduce myself and add, “People as smart and good as Jo are very hard to find, so we like to keep them in the long term. So she can't be a field security guard now! So what? We'll find suitable work she likes, even retraining, if wanted.” I turn to Jo, “Think about a suitable university course you'd like to do. OK, young man, what do you want to do at MIT?”
The whole family look at me while Jo starts to cry, because she realises what I'm about to do. After he explains the course of study he'd like to do, I say, “Good, get it all sorted out with MIT admissions since you'll be going there next year on a full support scholarship from my company.”
While her family are still stunned by this I ask them to let me speak to Jo in private for a moment. They step out and I lock the door. To Jo, I say, “OK, Jo, you'll hear about it later as some sort of miracle. Please don't speculate on it and please stop others from discussing it. Your wound is very high in the thigh and they couldn't stop the blood flow. So I used my telekinesis to close off the artery above the injury. I held it shut until the doctor let me know it was OK to release it after the surgery. Lucy, Piet, Doctor Hanley, Uncle Derfel, and you are the only people who know about this mild power of mine. Please keep it secret.”
She smiles, and nods, while saying, “Thank you for saving my life.”
I smile back, “Thank you for saving the lives of my mates.”
We're both grinning when I let her parents back in, and I leave them to talk as a family. I check on Peter in the next room before going home.
Early Monday morning we depart Sunport Airport for Dallas Love Field Airport and a meeting with a very important man in Dallas. He isn't expecting us, nor has he been told about his two sons yet. On our arrival we're met by a small security detachment under the command of Lieutenant Grant. He has the current location of the target and the three armoured cars to get us there.
On arrival at the right office block we soon see security is a very high concern for them. However, their scanners aren't worth much when they're bypassed by me using the inside manual override button to open the high security card and code access to the underground car park. We pull up near the elevators and I send them down to us. Since the high tech security grill let us in and the elevators answer our coded call the guard in the glass security box in the garage thinks we belong there as staff he hasn't met yet.
I head up with Grant and five men, leaving five men at the cars, five more in the ground floor elevator lobby, and five on the street outside. While we go up I scan the building for the target.
On the trip up in the elevator I close my eyes and search for our target. I locate him in their secure conference room, second top floor and near the middle of the building. Their meeting is about to start, but I still manage to get the log in ID and passwords for two laptops when their users sign in. This is the eleven members of the secret executive of The Group having their monthly meeting.
Stopping at this restricted access floor is very easy when I press the button for it to call an elevator. I approach the secretary seated at a desk outside the door. She looks up, surprised to see the elevator arriving, because all those permitted to this floor are already at the conference or in one of the other rooms here.
Smiling at her I unplug her phone handset, and say, “Grant, watch my back. This won't take long.” I go up to the locked double doors and kick the right hand door as hard as I can with both my physical and telekinetic strength. The door flies open while the lock smashes apart.
All the people in the room turn to look at my noisy entrance. They're all quick to log out of their laptops and close the lids. I smile at their actions, and again at their shocked looks when they recognise me. I'm not supposed to know they even exist.
Striding into the room, I snarl, “Drake, you thieving, lying, son of a bitch! Your arse is grass and I'm a super lawn mower. I've got a nice photo here for you from your last failed kidnapping on Saturday.” I smile at the shocked look on his face when he stands at the far end of the table. While all eyes are on me I reach out with my Calling skill and grab the heart of the man on this end of the table on my left, he's their money man and his is one of the computers I got the password to.
Dwight's eyes almost pop when he has an unexpected heart attack while all other eyes are on me. I walk to my left around the table and take all their eyes with me. He slumps in his chair - dead, when I reach the top of the table. All these scum deserve to die.
I wear a most feral smile while I toss the photo of the inside of the limousine on the table in front of Drake. There's just enough of the faces left for him to recognise their owners. I say, “Recognise these two pieces of shit that tried to kidnap my women. Look what they got for their trouble.” He looks down, and gasps on recognising his two sons. He slumps down into his chair when I reach out and grab his heart while the person beside him picks up the photo to look at it. She recognises her two nephews and drops the photo when she turns to throw up while Drake grabs his chest and starts to shake. I turn and stride back down the table while the photo does the rounds. No one sees me pick up a laptop and the pocket notebook beside it, I hold them close to my side after I do.
By then a few have noticed Drake jerking about in his chair while he dies. They call the attention of the rest, and they stare at him. One calls for a medical team, but it's already too late for Drake.
I bring their attention back to me, when I say, “Now I know who the powers are behind The Group I expect it to end when you all die.” One man pulls out a hand gun. When it leaves the shoulder holster I use my Calling skill to move it under his chin and pull the trigger. He blows his head off. Causing further fright as two of them die because of my being there. I smile, “He's smart by not waiting to see how I'll play with each of you first.” Turning, I stride out of the room and back to the elevator.
The security team fold in around me and we leave on the same elevator the medical team arrives on. We change elevators in the lobby and go down to the garage. While we're driving out I notice the guard in the security box is answering the phone. I close my eyes and move to see what's happening. I hear him list all recent arrivals and departures, all with proper security cards and codes. In the street outside we stop to pick up the rest of the team while I go through the computer's contents.
Halfway back to the airport we stop at an Internet café to log in and do some bank transfers. The poor man had trouble remembering passwords, so everything is written in the book in a code. Knowing the password he typed for access it's easy to work out the code he used to hide the actual passwords. I soon have a nice transfer of another one and a half billion dollars to my overseas accounts, five billion to the Dragons, with a code to show it's me, another billion spread around some major charities (I get the direct deposit information from their websites), and the final forty billion dollars to the other The Group accounts being monitored and drained by the government. Having emptied all their bank accounts I check to find nothing else of use on the computer, so we clean it of finger prints and leave it in the back of a parked police car we pass.
The flight home is without trouble and I'm met by Major Erwin. I give him the names of the remaining eight senior members of The Group, along with a request he organises some accidents for them. He smiles at the idea of doing them some major damage.
Over the following months all eight die. Two flee overseas, where they've fatal encounters with terrorists, the rest die in accidents in and around their homes or work.
Cadi is very happy on her birthday, because she gets full access to all her money. And promptly does nothing with it, because she can't think of a thing to spend it on. I think it's just the status of knowing she controls it now.
Jo is out of hospital and in rehabilitation at the estate a week before Christmas. All our people enjoy a nice Christmas with us. Jo's family is with us for a week as well, making her very happy.
From the Monday after the October kidnap attempts The Group are on the defensive and make no more attacks on us. We hope it stays that way, but we maintain our high alert status while getting on with our lives.
Exams come up and are passed. Things are looking good. Cadi is in her final year of high school. Bron decides to do a university course on forensic science with Jo. Mary, Peg, and I start our third year in our university courses. Mum and Dad decide to retire and write books. The university offers them special positions as guest lecturers, which they accept.
Nearly all of the known senior people involved with The Group are either dead or in prison. Its power is broken, but we expect others to step into the vacuum created. Many of the people in the middle and lower levels are missed, as we weren't able to identify them. We expect them to migrate to other trouble makers with similar tendencies, so we keep an eye out for them. Many businesses do badly due to the loss of government work.
I get weekly payments of a million dollar as a specialist consultant from a European based company, it's one I've created to allow me to legally move the confiscated money to me as work payments. I put this through a new US company set up by my accountant and lawyer. This is a similar deal to my first company, but has Mary, Peg, and I as the officers and owners. It also takes over the hire of all the security and office staff. We close down the original business at year's end, since it's no longer needed.
Mum, Dad, Cadi, and Bron are happy to live off their interest and what they earn for themselves. As Cadi says when I speak to her about closing the old company, “Heck, how many other girls get given three and a half million dollars by their brothers just to have their name on a piece of paper.” So all are happy with the changes.
The new company is a security and consulting business analysing and advising on anything, including military tactics and intelligence analysis. What's interesting is I get a few small high paying jobs from the National Security Agency to analyse intelligence information they have. They seem happy with the reports I give them, but I don't know if they do anything with them. They must like them because they send me harder ones to do for them.
Matt and Maggie are going out as a family with Mary and Peg now, making the girls very happy.
Maggie is happy when she learns Mary and Peg are getting ten percent of the post-tax profit from my new company each and it has nothing to do with gambling. She almost chokes when she learns the revenue for the first year will be in excess of fifty-two million dollars, giving the girls something like four million dollars each - just for being with me and part of my life.
Matt finally fronts me about my intentions towards his daughters, and is shocked, when I say, “I'll gladly make the situation legal when you tell me how I can legally marry them both under the current laws around here. The best I can do is to allow the state laws on de facto marriages to come into effect and to make them officers and owners of my business, making them my legal partners. That gives them an annual income from my work of about four million each, or more.” His mouth opens and shuts several times without him saying anything. The matter doesn't come up again. Nor do I expect it to.
Just before Christmas Mary and Peg change their legal name to Evans, and we all take to wearing fancy rings that look like wedding rings on first glance. They're three metals of different colours (silver, gold, and old gold) interwoven in a tight pattern. It signifies we're three that are one. This seems to satisfy everyone about our long term intentions for our lives.
My new business has a number of groups and divisions in it. The biggest is the Security Group, we offer everything from basic security staff to high risk recovery teams - we also have strike teams, but don't advertise them publicly. Uncle Derfel convinces the National Security Council to let him buy out their interest in the Dragons Company for four billion dollars. They raise their eyebrows over the money, but don't ask questions about where he got it, but I think they know where.
We do normal investigations of everything you can think of, too. We also have a forensic unit which Jo and Bron head up. And a unit that investigates claims of local, state, or federal government corruption. The estate security is also made part of the company.
By having all our security forces in the one company it makes it very hard for outside people to tell what our people do at any one time. It has the advantage of giving the combat teams other work to do when they've no combat assignments, and work opportunities with the same people when they have to retire from combat roles.
When I was trying to come up with a name for the company Dad showed me some research into family history his uncle did years ago. I smile when I realise what it means, and name the company for the very ancient tribal confederation our ancestors belonged to for centuries, from well before the Roman invasion of Britain. Uncle Derfel smiles when he sees the name and the logo; Pendragon Security Services, and a logo of the top halves of five dragons with their backs together while they give a full circle coverage of all around them. The Dragons fit right into the new structure, and are very happy to join us.
Mary and Peg are surprised when I establish them as the Chief Executive Officer and Chief Finance Officer; they've the training, not me. They also have a number of very experienced assistants to help them. I take on being Chairman of the Board of Directors. Matt retires from the New Mexico State Police to take on being the head of our criminal investigation division.
I smile at the number of government employees that retire early due to questions about loyalty and attitudes. The clean-up is going well.
I often stop to wonder how our lives would've been if Mum and Dad hadn't taken the job in Albuquerque. Despite how well our lives have turned out and are going, we do have concerns about the future. One thing is for sure: we all know and remember the sage advice of John Philpot Curran from a speech he made in Dublin in 1808:
“Eternal vigilance is the price of liberty.”