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Message-ID: <48162asstr$1086696605@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Vulgar Argot <vulgarargotREMOVEALL@CAPSinsidejoke.tv>
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Subject: {ASSM} Princes of Mannsborough, Chapter 20
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Date: Tue,  8 Jun 2004 08:10:05 -0400
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

Princes of Mannsborough, Part 20
by Vulgar Argot
(tags moved to bottom for spoilerage)

Thule lay on his back with Dawn curled against his side. Her breathing
was even and untroubled. He kept his eyes closed for a long time, but
sleep would not come. He wasn't really surprised. It was much too
early, the light was still on, and a million thoughts raced through
his head.

As pleasant as it was to just lie there in a post-coital drowse, Thule
was somewhat relieved when the indicator on his PC cam software
emitted a soft beep and started to flash. Thule slid out of bed,
retrieved his pants, adjusted camera and chair so that they faced
towards the door, and made the connection.

Marigold smiled at him, waved and typed, "My car is so cool!!!"

Thule smiled to himself, "What kind did you get?"

Marigold, "Can I come over and show you?"

Thule sighed. So much for a relaxing idyll. He picked up his cell
phone, set it to vibrate, and typed, "Call me, please." Then, he waved
the phone at the camera. When he saw Marigold reach for her phone, he
got up and went in the living room, sitting on the couch.

"Where did you go?" asked Marigold as he answered the phone.

"Just in the living room," said Thule.

"Why?"

Thule sighed. He'd wanted to ease into it a little more than this,
"Dawn's in there. I didn't want to wake her."

"Very considerate," said Marigold. "Can I come show you my car?"

Thule chuckled, "Sure."

"Did everything go all right today?" asked Marigold.

"Yeah," said Thule. "I'll tell you about it when you get here."

"Thule," asked Marigold, "is everything all right. You sound kind
of...subdued."

"Yeah," said Thule, "I'd rather not say too much on a cell phone."

"Oh, right," said Marigold, "I'll see you in a few. Love you, Thule."

"I love you too, Marigold," said Thule. As he closed the phone, he was
already getting up, heading back to the bedroom to get dressed. As he
sat on the corner of the bed to change back into his dress pants, Dawn
looked up, eyes blurred with sleep.

"Hey," she said, smiling softly, "you can't run out on me in the
middle of the night. You live here...and this is your bed."

Thule stretched diagonally across the bed to kiss her on the forehead,
"Marigold is coming over. She wants me to see her new car."

Dawn looked momentarily panicked, reaching for her robe. Thule took
her wrist gently, shushing her, "It's all right. Go back to sleep."

Half-pinned beneath Thule, Dawn nuzzled up against his chest, "No,
Thule," she said, "We shouldn't rub her face in it."

Thule pulled on her wrist until she was lying flat on her back, then
leaned down and kissed her on the mouth, "I'm not going to sneak
around, Dawn. If she's going to have a problem with this, I want to
know it now."

Dawn wrapped her other arm around his shoulders, "And, if she does?"

"We'll deal with it," said Thule, "Don't worry. Whatever happens, you
live here now. I talked to my father yesterday. If you want, you can
stay here next year. He needs somebody to take care of the house while
he wraps things up in Ghana. He's on an eighteen-month schedule there.
That would put you past graduation."

Dawn nodded against him, "Thank you, Thule. That's wonderful
news...but not really what I was asking."

Thule sat up, looking down at her, "About the rest, we'll have to see.
If I didn't think it could work out, we wouldn't be here now."

Dawn sat up, leaning against him, "Thule, I know that if it comes down
to Marigold or me...who you'll choose."

Thule put his arms around her, drawing her to his chest. He held her,
not saying anything. After a few minutes, she said, "You should finish
getting dressed. She'll be here soon," and climbed off his lap.

Thule did, still tucking in his t-shirt when the headlights scanned
past his window. Dawn had gotten up, retrieved her robe, and gone off
to use her own shower.

Thule went out to the driveway. He was immediately relieved to see
that Marigold had gotten herself a little white Saturn, neither sporty
nor frumpy. Marigold jumped out of the driver's seat and caught Thule
in a running hug, wrapping her legs around him.

"Check it out," she said. "Isn't it cool?"

Thule walked over to it, holding Marigold on one hip like she was a
large child. He said, "It's very pretty."

"Look under the hood," said Marigold. She jumped down to pull the hood
release.

Thule opened the hood, looking inside, "Ah," he said when Marigold
came trotting back, "An engine. That will come in handy."

Marigold wrinkled her nose at him in amusement. She seemed to have
picked the mannerism up from Dawn, "You don't know much about cars, do
you?"

Thule chuckled, "Just enough to change my oil filter."

Marigold laughed, "I don't even know that, but Dawn was amazing. We
went to a couple of dealerships and Jonas was trying to talk to the
salesguys, but he doesn't know a lot either. Then, Dawn started asking
questions and like blowing them away. Did you know she was a total
greasemonkey?"

"I didn't know she'd ever had a car," said Thule.

Marigold rolled her eyes, "Don't get her started on that. When she was
like fifteen, she bought this junker with her own money, spent like a
year making it work, had it running for like two weeks, then her
parents took it away to punish her for something stupid and her Dad
wrapped it around a tree."

Thule gasped a little through his teeth, "Little Flower, I didn't even
have a hint that her home life was so bad. Why didn't you tell me?"

Marigold shook her head, "I didn't know much about it until we talked
on Saturday. How is she settling in?"

"Uh..." said Thule.

Marigold giggled, "Oh, right. Is she inside? I want to say hi."

"She's in the shower," said Thule.

"Even better," said Marigold. Her eyes were pure mischief as she
skipped away.

Thule grimaced and rubbed his temples. He gently lowered the hood and
went inside. He was still standing in the living room trying to decide
what to do next when he heard Dawn shriek. Marigold came running back
into the living room, laughing.

"She threw a loofa at me," said Marigold indignantly.

"Maybe she doesn't like being disturbed in the shower," said Thule,
shrugging.

"This means war," said Marigold.

"Marigold," said Thule sternly, "sit down and behave."

Marigold flopped down on the couch, pouting, "Spoilsport."

Thule sat down next to her. Marigold's face got serious, "Thule, can I
ask you something?"

Thule felt his shoulders tense, "Yes?"

"Would it be okay if I drove us to school tomorrow?"

Thule laughed, "Sure. You can drive us to school from now on if you
like."

"You don't mind?" asked Marigold, "It wouldn't be a blow against your
manhood?"

Thule laughed again, "No. Thank you for protecting my fragile, little
male ego, but it will be fine. I'm always afraid my car is going to
break down and strand us somewhere. It'll give me a chance to have it
tuned up or something."

Marigold sat up, one hand on his chest, "You should let Dawn take a
look at it." She sounded excited at the prospect.

"I, uh..." Thule said uneasily, "Sure. Why not?"

Dawn emerged from her bedroom, black robe on, towel on her head,
"Mari," she said, "I'm so sorry. You just startled me. I don't like to
be disturbed in the shower."

Marigold held out her arms, pulling Dawn into her lap, hugging her,
"No, Dawn. I'm sorry. I was just playing. I didn't think about it. If
I lived with your parents, I'd be very protective of any place where I
could be alone with my thoughts."

Dawn lay her head on Marigold's shoulder, her feet on Thule's leg, "I
never thought about it that way, but you're right. But, it's okay. I
liked sharing a shower with you before. You just shouldn't sneak up on
me." She leaned down and kissed Marigold on the mouth.

Thule smiled to himself. Dawn had apparently decided to find out
tonight if he had a problem with this. She was a fast learner. He
reached down and pet her leg, which she stretched out until she was
laid across both their laps, her head on Marigold's shoulder. Marigold
brought her hand up, holding the back of Dawn's head, elongating the
kiss.

When Marigold's hand slid inside her robe, Dawn broke the kiss, "Eek!
You two are trying to kill me. Let me up."

Looking surprised, Marigold released her, "Don't you want to..."

"Yes," said Dawn, fairly emphatically, "but not tonight." She stood
up, "You two should go out, take a spin in the new car." Straightening
her robe to be more decent, she said, "I'm going to enjoy some of the
blessed solitude I checked into this hotel for."

Looking to alleviate some of the tension, Thule said, "Marigold's
going to be driving to school tomorrow. I thought I would use the
opportunity to get my car a tune up. Would you know anyone who could
do a good one?"

Dawn rattled off the names of a half-dozen mechanics, listing their
advantages and disadvantages. Thule started laughing.

"What's so funny?" asked Dawn.

Still smiling, Thule said, "I thought maybe you could take a look at
it."

"Well, I could," said Dawn, looking skeptical, "but, I don't work very
fast. It could be out of commission for a couple of weeks."

"That's all right," said Thule, "That thing can't go to Boston in the
condition it's in. I've come by some extra cash, even after I pay my
tuition. I think it may be time for me to get a new one...well, a
newer one anyway."

"Really?" asked Dawn, her eyes widening, "Then, what would you need
with this one?"

"Well," said Thule, "there are two of us living here. I figured we
could use two cars."

Dawn squealed and jumped on Thule's lap, hugging and kissing his
excitedly. Thule glanced over at Marigold, who looked wryly amused.

"Thule, thank you so much," said Dawn breathlessly.

"Don't thank me until you look under the hood," said Thule, "It was
doing some weird knocking thing today."

"That's probably the fuel line," said Dawn.

"And I want you to help me pick out the next one," said Thule.

"Done," said Dawn, wrapping and arm around Thule's neck and one around
Marigold's, "You two are the best, you know that?"

A second later, Dawn reached down somewhere and slapped something
Thule couldn't see. Marigold withdrew her hand. She was smiling, "You
can't blame a girl for trying."

Dawn laughed, "Mari, I don't know what Miss Manners has to say on the
matter, but I don't think it's appropriate for a young lady to lose
her virginity and have her first threesome on the same night."

"You're right," said Marigold, "I waited a good twenty-four hours."

"So," said Thule, jumping up, "How about that ride?"

Marigold laughed, "You sure you don't want to come?"

"Nah," said Dawn, "you two go ahead. I'm tired. I'll probably be sound
asleep by the time you two get back." She kissed Marigold good night,
walked over to Thule, kissed him goodnight, then padded back into her
room.

"Come on," said Marigold, grabbing Thule by the hand, "Let's go."

As it turned out, Marigold was a remarkably capable driver, even a tad
bit overly cautious. They drove for the joy of driving. Eventually,
she took them to a picnic area, overlooking the lake. They had passed
a number of other parked cars and silhouettes of couples in various
stages of canoodling.

They walked uphill a little ways from the car, sitting on one of the
picnic tables. The air was warm and the moon full. Thule sat on a
picnic table, his arms wrapped around Marigold, who sat between his
legs.

"I had no idea you knew about this place," said Thule.

"I...um," said Marigold, "Wait. How do you know about this place?"

Thule pointed down the steep slope that led to the lake, "About two
hundred feet that way, there's a little bluff, covered in vegetation,
that has a clear view onto the back of the Vandevoort estate. They
don't do much on that side, but it took me a while to figure that
out."

"How romantic," said Marigold, "Did you ever bring a girl up here?"

Thule shook his head, "Nope. I have this thing called a house. It's
warmer and there are less splinters involved."

Marigold didn't say anything as if she were lost deep in thought.
Thule asked, "So, how do you know about this place?"

"I used to come up here with a boy," said Marigold.

"By your tone," said Thule, "I'm guessing it wasn't Elliot?"

"You don't sound surprised," said Marigold.

"I'm definitely surprised," said Thule, "but more curious. When did
this happen?"

"When I was fifteen," said Marigold, "Elliot and I had been friends
since like kindergarten and decided at like twelve that we were
boyfriend and girlfriend. That's when we decided we were going to get
married."

"At twelve?" asked Thule.

"Yeah," said Marigold, laughing, "I know now how stupid and naive that
sounds. But, at the time, we believed it. Well, he believed it. I
thought if I told him I would marry him, he would have sex with me."

"At twelve?" asked Thule.

"Well," said Marigold, "I didn't want to have sex at twelve, but I
figured it would be nice to have someone lined up for it when I was
ready. Actually, Maya came up with that idea, but I immediately saw
the wisdom of it."

"But, it wasn't Elliot you came up here with?" asked Thule.

"I would have," said Marigold, "I tried to fool around with him during
the ninth grade, but he wouldn't, not at all. He told me he wanted to
wait until we were married and that I was being disgusting. And, he
didn't want to get married until after college. That was like eight
years away. Could you imagine going eight years without sex? Until you
were like twenty-six? Even eight days feels like too much right now."

"It would be...difficult," said Thule.

"Well," said Marigold, "there was no way in hell I was going to stand
for it. That summer, I found this older boy. He had his own car and
didn't live in Mannsborough. He was staying with a cousin and leaving
after the summer. We didn't have sex. I was too afraid of getting
pregnant, like Maya did."

"Not even with a condom?" asked Thule.

Marigold shook her head, "Maya told me that, when she got pregnant,
you were wearing a condom, but it broke. Lars told me I could get on
the pill if I told my doctor I was having really painful menstruation.
So, I tried to do that, but my Mom was real dense, gave me hot water
bottles and stuff. By the time I got the pills, he'd gone back to Long
Island. When he came back for Christmas, I rushed up to...where he was
staying, ready to go all the way. But, he'd brought his girlfriend
from home with him." She turned in Thule's arms so that he could hold
her tighter, "He told me she was really wild and I could sleep with
both of them if I wanted to."

"And?" asked Thule.

"I didn't," said Marigold, "I could have fooled around with him, even
slept with him and been okay with that. I spent a lot of time with
girls from church and knew they were doing all sorts of things with
their boyfriends and still seemed all right. But, I had just gone back
to church and I was really fixated on being a good Christian."

Thule hugged her, "Little Flower, I'm not going to leave you if we
don't have a threesome."

"No," said Marigold, "that's not it. I want to. I wanted to, then. It
was a scary idea, but also an incredibly arousing. The whole point of
being with Lars was to get things out of my system so I could focus on
school and wait with Elliot until we were married. But, I wouldn't do
it because I wanted to be good and didn't think I could if I started
down that road again. Up until then, that hadn't really meant much."

"So," asked Thule, "why did you ever go back to Elliot?"

"I lasted about three months single," said Marigold, "but Mannsborough
High is a dangerous place to be a single girl, even at fifteen. Lars's
cousin somehow found out the whole story, so he started sniffing
around me. That sent me scampering back to Elliot pretty damned fast."

Thule looked out across the lake, finding the green light on the end
of the pier that extended off of the Vandevoorts' back yard, "Lars is
a fairly unusual name."

Marigold nuzzled against him and nodded.

"Dutch, isn't it?"

"Yeah," said Marigold, "it's Dutch."

"I met a Lars this weekend," said Thule, "Lars Vandevoort. He's a
cousin of Randy's."

Marigold gave a single, mirthless laugh, "If I'd known, I would have
had you say hi."

Thule hugged her fiercely and kissed the top of her head, "He seemed a
bit older than us."

Marigold put her head back to look up at him, "He would be about
twenty-five by now."

"He was twenty-two?" asked Thule.

Marigold laughed again, "I had a feeling you would be able to do the
math."

Thule started laughing. Marigold looked up, concerned, "You're not mad
at me, are you?"

"No," said Thule emphatically, "I'm probably a little pissed at Lars.
That strikes me as awfully old to be chasing after fifteen year-old
girls."

"He didn't really chase me," said Marigold, "In fact, he made at least
a passable effort to get away from me. I was pretty determined."

Thule chuckled richly. Marigold looked up at him, "Do you hate me?"

"No," said Thule, more emphatically, "Why on Earth would you ask such
a thing?"

"I got the impression," said Marigold, "that you were quite enamored
on the idea of taking this innocent, sexually-repressed little girl
and turning her into a whore."

"I was at first," admitted Thule, "but that was when I was still
thinking in terms of punishing you. I was starting to get worried that
I'd broken you."

Marigold said shakily, "You said you didn't like me wild."

"I said I didn't like you trying to be wild for the sake of being
wild," said Thule, "It was getting exhausting."

"That Christmas, I met Svetlana Vandevoort," said Marigold, "I don't
suppose she's settled down any since then?"

Thule laughed, "I can't imagine she has. If she were any wilder than
she is today, she wouldn't have survived this long."

"And you slept with her," said Marigold.

Thule shuddered, "Yeah, but under extreme circumstances. I certain
never would have sought her out." After a few awkward seconds of
silence, he added, "I know how lame that sounds, but it's true. I was
uncomfortable pretty much from the moment I met her and glad to have
her off of my hands."

"So," asked Marigold, "if you love me for me, what if I show you the
real me and I'm as wild as Mrs. Vandevoort?"

"Then, I'll do the same thing with you that I did with her," said
Thule, "Put you on the first bus out of town. Then, I'll burn off my
fingerprints and get on a tramp steamer to anywhere that Jonas can't
find me."

Marigold looked alarmed, "I thought you loved me."

"I do love you, Little Flower, with all of my heart," said Thule, "and
I would miss you terribly. But, Sveta is so wild that she's eventually
going to burn up like the sun. I couldn't watch you do that."

"Well, then," said Marigold, "I guess you're going to have to keep me
in line."

Thule leaned down and kissed her, his hand laid flat on her belly.
Marigold winced and pulled away, "Fresh piercing. Be careful."

"Sorry," said Thule, "I forgot." Marigold took the hand she'd pulled
away from her and put it on her breast.

Thule looked at her, "Little Flower, do you have some particular
desire to do this here, maybe for old time's sake?"

"No," said Marigold, "actually, it's getting a little chilly and, as
you've said, splinters are not particularly romantic. I would like to
sit and watch the moon for a little while longer, though." She handed
Thule her keys, "I think I have a jacket in the trunk. Would you go
get it?"

Thule trotted down the path. There was nothing in the trunk except a
spare. He looked into the body of the car. There was nothing at all
inside. He looked around, puzzled. As he was about to head back up,
Marigold came down the path.

"I don't see a jacket," said Thule.

"Really?" asked Marigold, taking her keys back, "my mistake. Let's go
back to your place."

Thule looked at the clock, then double-checked his cell phone, "Shoot.
I didn't realize how late it was. You're going to have to get home
soon."

"I can stay," said Marigold.

"Great," said Thule, "How late?"

"As long as you'll have me," said Marigold.

Thule raised an eyebrow, "I don't want you getting in trouble."

"I just called Jonas," said Marigold, "He said I could stay."

Thule laughed.

"Thule," asked Marigold, "why did you laugh before, back up at the
table, when I was explaining about Lars?"

"I figured something out," said Thule, "I told Randy once or twice
that you were practically frigid. Now I know why he doesn't want to
kill me for sleeping with Sveta."

Marigold looked puzzled. Thule was laughing again. Wiping a tear from
the corner of his eye, "All this time, he knew this secret about you I
had no clue about. He must have been having a good laugh at my
expense."

Marigold asked, "What does that have to do with Sveta?"

"He doesn't care that I slept with her," said Thule, still laughing,
"because he assumes I'm a lame fuck. After all, if I think you're
frigid, I can't be very good, can I?"

Marigold's cheeks reddened, "Thule, that's awful."

"Why?" asked Thule, "that Randy thinks I'm a lame fuck? What do I
care?"

"Don't you care what he thinks about me?" asked Marigold.

Thule stopped laughing, "Only as much as it effects your safety. And,
if it hurts your feelings, I care about those. But, I don't care what
he thinks about anybody. So, he thinks you're a whore. So what? Soon
enough, he'll be in prison for a long time. Then, he'll understand
what it means to be a whore."

"Oh, my God, Thule," said Marigold in a rush, "I still don't know how
things went with the FBI today."

Thule laughed and began to fill in the details. The story lasted until
they were in the driveway. Then, he told her about his meeting with
Ivan, leaving out only the most graphic bits of taunting about
Svetlana. Marigold was a very appreciative audience, laughing and
clapping and covering her mouth with her hand at all the appropriate
places.

"Thule," she said, "you're like an action hero or something."

"Then, I'm telling it wrong," said Thule.

"No, no," said Marigold, "I mean it. Say, 'I'm just a mathematician.'"

"I am just a mathematician," said Thule.

"No, no," said Marigold, "Stay it like Steven Seagal in that movie
where he was a cook."

Thule blushed beet red. When he'd regained his composure, he said,
"I'm just a mathematician."

Marigold giggled, "Oh, God. I am so hot for you right now. Take me,
you math stud." Before Thule could answer, she was out of the car,
running for the house.

Thule caught up with her in the bedroom, grabbing her around the
waist, tackling her to the bed. Marigold twisted around until she was
on her back, looking up at him. He kissed her hard on the mouth.
Marigold pulled off his t-shirt and unzipped his fly. Thule unbuttoned
her blouse and stripped off her bra. In less than a minute, they were
naked. Their hands roamed all over each other, stroking and teasing.
Marigold took Thule's wrist in both hands and pushed it down between
her legs. She was already soaking wet and, as soon as he touched her,
she began mewling and bucking.

Thule was just starting to get his rhythm inside of her when Marigold
growled in his ear, "Oh, Thule, please just fuck me. I want you so bad
right now." Thule complied, driving into her. Marigold's legs spread
to let him in, then locked behind his thighs. He drove fiercely into
her. Marigold cried out in pleasure. No matter how hard he pounded
into her, she drove against him, urging him to go even harder. As they
got slick with sweat, Thule found an angle that allowed him to enter
Marigold even more deeply. But, suddenly, she cried out in pain. Thule
stopped and looked down at her, his face a mask of concern.

"Piercing," gasped Marigold, "sorry."

Thule wrapped his arm around her, rolling on his back, pulling her on
top of him. Marigold caught on quickly enough, straddling Thule and
riding him up and down until he caught one ankle in either hand,
pulling them together on his chest. He used his grip on her ankles to
move her body while he thrust into her. Marigold squealed in protest
before she resumed her sounds of pleasure.

"Lean back," rasped Thule, "on your elbows." Marigold did, her bottom
sliding down onto the sheets. Thule released her ankles and sat up,
putting a hand in the small of her back. He thrust against her slowly,
then began to move his hand up her back, forcing her to sit up
straighter a little bit at a time, speeding up as she did. Eventually,
he was sitting up and she was sitting in his lap, pressed against him,
riding him. Thule's hands were on her bottom, helping her rise and
fall with the thrusts.

"Is this okay?" asked Thule, "with the piercing?"

Marigold laughed lustily, "Yes. I'm quite enjoying the piercing I'm
getting."

Thule drove up into her. Marigold closed her eyes and clung to him.
She had been coming for a while, but now her body began to quake in
earnest. Thule felt her grip him inside of her, hard. It took him by
surprise and drove him over the edge. He came deep inside of her,
hugging her to him, and cried out.

Marigold kept her head on his shoulder, her damp hair sticking to him
all the way down his back. She panted in his ear, one arm over his
shoulder, one around his ribs.

That," she panted, "was intense. I don't know what you did
differently, but you should do it more often."

Reluctantly, she slid off of his lap, lying on her side next to him.
After a minute or two, she rose from the bed, "Get up," she said, "I'm
going to change the sheets and get a shower before we sleep."

Thule stood, "I'll take care of the sheets. I guess we sweated them up
a bit."

Marigold laughed, "Among other things. And, I don't think they were
entirely dry when we started."

"Oh," said Thule.

Marigold came over and kissed the look of discomfort off of his face,
"Just something to keep in mind in the future. If you finish with the
sheets fast enough, I'll let you scrub my back. And don't worry. I
won't throw anything at you."

                                   -=-

Thule woke up to the sense that he was being watched. He was. Dawn
looked down at the two of them from the foot of the bed.

"Breakfast for three?" she asked gently.

"Yeah," said Thule, "Marigold stayed the night."

"I sort of figured that out, what with her lying there and all," said
Dawn, "Does she like French toast?"

"I don't know," said Thule.

Dawn put her finger to her lips, walked around to Marigold's side of
the bed, and slid in next to her blonde friend. Gently, she kissed
Marigold on the mouth. Marigold stirred against Thule, who was spooned
up against her, but didn't open her eyes. Dawn fit Marigold's body
into her own, rubbing her hands up and down her back and bottom.

Marigold complained sleepily, "Thule, Dawn is seducing me. Make her
stop."

"Was not," said Dawn, "I just thought this would be a nice way to wake
up. Do you like French toast?"

"If you're talking about the food, yes," said Marigold, "If it's some
sort of weird sex act I've never heard of, probably."

"Great," said Dawn, "You two should get moving, then. Breakfast will
be ready in like twenty minutes."

Thule was up and getting dressed when Marigold sat up, "You've got her
cooking?"

Thule nodded, "If I can teach her to vacuum and do laundry, I can
retire."

Marigold frowned, but didn't say anything.

                                   -=-

When Marigold pulled into the senior parking lot, several of the
cheerleaders, who had been cronies of Brianne, came over to compliment
her on her car, then stayed and chatted with her and Dawn. They walked
to the steps in a phalanx that Thule could have been deluded into
thinking was around him, but they were really around Marigold. He was
just the prince consort.

Up on the front steps, Thule and Marigold stood together against the
wall. Spread out around them, the group was interspersed with Thule's
crew and the cheerleaders who had attached themselves to Marigold.
With neither Brianne nor June Kane in sight, the other cheerleaders
boiled around like ants whose hill had been kicked over. A half dozen
stood around Ioke. About the same number had joined their boyfriends
around Randy. A few stood at street level with former members of Ian's
crew. More than a dozen had gathered around Marigold. Thule watched
with bemusement as his friends and the cheerleaders eyed each other
uneasily, a few awkward words passing between them, maybe the first
thing they'd said to each other that wasn't a putdown in years.

As they went inside, Marigold said to Thule, "That was surreal. I
could have sworn those girls hated me and Dawn and your friends. I
wish I'd known that all it took was a new car."

Thule laughed, "I think it's more of a power dynamic thing. With Ian,
Brianne, and June all out of the picture, people don't know who to
follow. Some of them latched on to you."

"Me?" asked Marigold, "but, most of them weren't even talking to me.
They were talking to your friends."

"But they were following your lead," said Thule, "Trust me on this."

Marigold wrinkled her nose, "I don't know."

Thule chuckled, "Do an experiment for me, then. When you're getting
lunch today, talk to some of those girls. Then, come over and sit with
me. Watch what happens."

At lunch, Marigold showed up with a dozen cheerleaders in tow. Soon,
they were arrayed out to one side of the long table and lightly
interspersed among Thule's friends, who arrayed out in the other
direction. Ioke joined them a few minutes later. Soon, people were
pulling an extra table and more chairs over.

"That was the most bizarre thing I've ever seen," said Marigold, "More
than half of the cheerleading squad sitting with the geeks and the
football players sitting off by themselves."

"The football players have always sat by themselves," said Thule, "The
cheerleaders would go back and forth from their own table to the
players' table, but they sat separately."

Marigold laughed, "You've given this a lot of thought, haven't you?"

Thule nodded, "Most people just want to be led. If anybody shows the
inclination to lead, they will soon accumulate followers."

Later, he saw her at the center of a phalanx of her own. The
cheerleaders seemed to have lost none of the military precision they'd
learned from Brianne.

"Well, that didn't take long," said Brianne.

Thule looked down at her. Brianne was wearing relaxed-cut blue jeans
and a denim shirt that hid her figure. She had also cut her long,
blonde hair to just below her ears.

"Wow," said Thule, "you look different."

"That's the idea," said Brianne, "I've had some unwanted media
attention. They don't recognize me like this."

"I talked to the guy," said Thule, "he wants to meet you tomorrow
night."

"Yeah," said Brianne, "about that..."

Thule held his breath. If she chickened out now, it would be a lot
harder to get her to squeal on Randy.

"I've only got about twenty two in cash," said Brianne, "my clientele
has moved on. Do you think he would take product for the other three?"

Thule smiled wickedly and said in a stage whisper, "I thought you were
saving the 'product' for me."

Brianne scowled, "I mean coke, dumbass. Would he take twenty two kay
and an ounce and a half?"

"I don't know," said Thule coolly, "I can ask."

Brianne looked both ways down the hall, then whispered to Thule, "I
can go as high as two and an eighth. But, try not to give him so much.
That would wipe me out."

                                    -=-

At the office, Thule informed Jonas that he'd been given the new
resumes by Ivan.

"Can you find someplace to put them?" asked Jonas.

Thule said, "I'll talk to Mac. We should be able to. But, this thing
is almost over. If we can delay the hiring by a couple of weeks..."

Jonas waved away the suggestion, "No. Don't do anything to tip your
hand before it's over. We can handle a few more spies, I'm sure."

Thule nodded, "Okay. Thanks."

"So," asked Jonas, "how is the prodigal stepdaughter doing?"

Thule chuckled, "You saw her less than twenty-four hours ago. She'll
be there when you get home tonight. Why don't you ask her?"

"If by 'ask,' you mean, 'interrogate until my guilt at abdicating my
parental responsibility is assuaged,' then I assure you that I will,"
said Jonas.

"I don't want to be her father," said Thule, "She still needs you."

"I can't control her anymore," said Jonas.

"You ever could?" asked Thule, "You'll have to teach me the trick."

"So," asked Jonas, "How close to over is this thing?"

"I turned over everything I had to the FBI yesterday," said Thule, "It
turns out that there's a self-selected taskforce on the Vandevoorts,
even though they're under pressure not to investigate at all.
Tomorrow, I'm giving them Brianne, who should have plenty of dirt on
Randy. After that, I just need to establish the fact that Ivan has
been using the Mannsborough PD to cover up his son's criminal
activities and the Bureau will take over."

Jonas snorted, "It seems like they're expecting an awful lot from a
high school student."

Thule shrugged, "They can't do it. Their hands are tied. I can operate
because I'm not law enforcement and no one can lean on me to stop."

"Well," said Jonas, "just try not to make Marigold a widow before you
actually marry her."

Thule laughed, "You know, some days it's just your upbeat attitude and
positivism that keep me going."

                                -=-

After work, Thule picked up Dawn at home and took her with him to a
car dealership. A salesman came towards him, hand extended, then paled
a little when he saw Dawn by his side.

"Hey, Jerry," said Dawn, "I brought you another customer."

Jerry smiled wanly, "Sure. What were you looking for?"

"Something pre-owned," said Dawn, "around twelve thousand. Maybe a
fleet car."

Jerry brought them to the portion of the lot where they kept trade-ins
and fleet cars, vehicles that had been part of a rental fleet for a
couple of years before being sold. They looked at a few cars, each of
which Dawn rejected for one reason or another. Thule just watched,
amused.

"What about this one?" asked Dawn. She was looking at a shiny, red
Cadillac Eldorado, a convertible soft top, "Why is it only eight
thousand?"

"Undiagnosable problem," said Jerry, "It has issues with shutting down
every once in a while for no apparent reason. Al thinks it's a
transmission problem."

"Hmmm," said Dawn, "pop the hood, would you?"

Jerry did so. Dawn examined the engine for a few minutes. Then, she
took her keychain out of her purse. There was a tiny flashlight on it
that she shined down into the engine.

"Start it up, please," said Dawn. Jerry started the engine. Dawn
watched for about ten seconds, then closed the hood.

"Would you take sixty eight hundred for it?" Dawn asked.

"Dawn," said Thule, "could I talk to you for a minute?" Before she
could answer, he'd caught her by the arm and dragged her off a short
way.

"Thule," she said, "You've got to trust me. That's a great car. And
the engines are simple as shit. I know what's wrong with it. It'll
take a few hundred dollars worth of parts to fix, tops."

"But, it's got to be like twenty-five years old," said Thule.

Dawn waved her hand, "It's a 1976." Thule gave her a minute to do the
math. "Okay," she said, "it's exactly twenty-five years old. But, it's
in great condition and it's a classic."

Thule looked over her shoulder at the car, "It's kind of a
pimpmobile."

"I like it," said Dawn, "I think you should get it."

"If you can't fix it," said Thule, "I'm going to have to keep driving
that car I have now."

"I can fix it," said Dawn.

"Can I at least do my own negotiating?" asked Thule.

"If you want to spend too much," said Dawn.

"Fine," said Thule, sighing, "Go get him, tiger."

Thule wound up paying US$7,250 and driving the Cadillac off the lot
that night. He had to admit that it was a gorgeous car.

"That was quite a sight," said Thule, "do you want to drive it for a
while?"

"Nah," said Dawn, "give me a week to get it in tip-top shape. Then,
I'll start working on the other one. This should be your baby. Don't
let anyone else drive her."

"Well," said Thule, "what about if I need to get some sleep again
while you drive? The backseat is huge. It would be perfect for that."

Dawn giggled, "I can think of something else it would be perfect for.
Want to take it for a test drive?"

Thule sounded exasperated, "I have a house, you know. What is the big
appeal with doing it everywhere but at home?"

Dawn shrugged, "We don't have to. I've just always wanted to do it in
a big car like this, at least once."

Thule turned off the main road, taking Dawn to a different part of the
campgrounds around the lake from where he had been with Marigold the
night before. They climbed into the back seat and, after much giggling
and maneuvering, managed to get out of their clothes. Thule tried
getting on top, but ended up banging his head on the window. So, they
switched positions, Dawn riding him. It was hard to get traction, but
eventually, he came inside of her.

"That was pleasant," said Dawn afterwards.

"Didn't live up to the legend, did it?" asked Thule.

"I think I need a bigger car," said Dawn, "or a smaller boyfriend."

"Before you ask," said Thule, "I do not want you and Marigold having
sex in the back seat of my car."

"Why not?" asked Dawn.

"I would be too distracting when I was trying to drive," said Thule.

Dawn giggled. All of a sudden, outside, red and blue flashers burst
into life.

"Shit," said Dawn.

"Stay here," said Thule, "I'll take care of it."

Thule emerged from the car in just his pants, "Vladi, Jesus Christ."

Vladi, who was approaching with a flashlight, looked up at him,
"Thule? Shit, man. I'm sorry. I didn't recognize your car."

"I just bought it," said Thule, "and wanted to test out the shocks."

"It's a nice one," said Vladi, "That a 74?"

"Seventy-six," said Thule.

Vladi put his fingers on the brim of his hat, "Excuse me, ma'am. Sorry
for disturbing you two."

Thule looked over at Dawn who had frozen in fear at the sight of
Vladi.

"Right," said Thule to Vladi, "shouldn't you be fucking off now?"

"Sure," said Vladi, good humor not leaving his face, "Sure, Thule.
Sorry to trouble you."

"God damn," said Dawn on the ride home, "He seems so...affable?"

"One can smile and smile and be a villain," said Thule, "Even Randy
seems like a decent guy when he thinks you're his friend."

"I was ready to stay with Vladi that night we were rushing back to
save Marigold from the newspaper office," said Dawn. She shivered.

"I wouldn't have let you," said Thule. He didn't know if it was true,
but it seemed like the right thing to say.

"Well," said Dawn with a harsh chuckle, "I think I've been pretty
thoroughly traumatized out of my sex in cars fantasy."

Thule reached out and ruffled her hair, "Not to mention that it was a
bit awkward. I guess not all fantasies work as described."

"It's all right," said Dawn, shrugging, "I've got a new one to replace
it."

Thule raised an eyebrow, "Oh?"

Dawn smiled at him, "Yup. It involves an inclined weight bench, a pair
of handcuffs, and maybe a blindfold."

"Oh?" asked Thule weakly.

Dawn nodded, "The last bit depends on whether or not you like being
blindfolded."

                                             -=-

After tying up a few loose ends, Thule sat at his desk, staring at his
monitor. He had exhausted his mental checklist of things that needed
to be done immediately. Then, he had worked his way down the list of
his responsibilities by subject. Any further spying on the Vandevoorts
would be superfluous and open him up to unnecessary risk of discovery.
He couldn't do anything about Brianne until tomorrow. He'd managed to
catch up on his work for the lab. Dawn was already in the garage with
the new car, doing a full diagnostic. Marigold was off doing volunteer
work at the hospital. He was as prepared for his final exams as he was
going to get. He didn't want to go downstairs and lift weights, for
fear of giving the wrong impression. He also didn't want to go down to
the firing range. It would be closed soon and, again, he didn't want
to give the wrong impression.

He went downstairs, brought out the practice mat, and started doing
katas. It had been over a year since he'd had time to take a martial
arts class, but the forms came back to him easily. Unfortunately, the
serenity he sought from them did not. Giving up, he went upstairs and
tried to lose himself in Thomas Bayes's "Essay Toward Solving a
Problem in the Doctrine of Chance," but it couldn't hold his interest.

Thule was restless. Worse, he was bored. He couldn't remember the last
time he'd been bored. That was something that happened to small
children and simpletons.

When Dawn came inside, Thule was sitting at the kitchen table with one
of the integrated spy cameras neatly disassembled in front of him,
glancing at a thick textbook and scribbling equations on printer
paper.

She looked at him cautiously, seemingly not wanting to intrude. Thule
looked up. Her face, chest, sports bra, belly, gray sweatpants, and
the gauze she had taped over her fresh piercing all had streaks of
grease on them.

"Yes?" Thule asked.

"Am I interrupting anything?" asked Dawn.

Thule shook his head, "No. I was just thinking about how the
integrated microphones on these things could be better designed. I was
noticing on the June Kane recording how low quality the audio was
compared to the video."

Dawn looked at him, bemused. Thule asked, "What?"

Dawn said, "I didn't notice the audio quality as much as the costuming
and choreography, which I thought were a bit crude. Oh, yeah, that and
our classmate getting raped and murdered."

Thule chuckled, "I don't mean to sound insensitive. That was the first
thing I noticed. But, I've done a lot of surveillance and much of what
I got was unintelligible. Even with that super-expensive camera, there
are a lot of things said that get lost. A good defense lawyer can play
a jury parts of a video until they don't know what the hell they're
seeing anymore. That's what happened with the Rodney King verdict. In
that video I handed over to the FBI, June screams Randy's name four
times, but it's not really so clear that it couldn't be 'Andy' or
something else."

Dawn sat down across the table from Thule, "Are you trying to tell me
that a jury could watch that video of June Kane and not come back with
a conviction?"

"It would be unlikely," said Thule, "but, if that was all I had, I
don't know if the FBI would move forward with it. Ivan's going to have
the best lawyers on the planet on this one. That's why I don't intend
to let them rely just on that video."

"Can you tell me what you gave them yet?" asked Dawn.

"Sure," said Thule, "If you're done with the car, why don't you get
yourself all clean and sweet smelling while I reassemble this thing
and complete this thought?"

"Okay," said Dawn, "Before I do, though, I have a question."

"Sure," said Thule making a few more notations to the sheet of
equations.

"Scott Collins asked me to the prom today," said Dawn.

"That's kind of short notice," said Thule, "The prom is a week from
tomorrow."

"I know," said Dawn, "And, I barely know the guy."

"So," asked Thule, "what did you tell him?"

"I told him I would have to check with my parents," said Dawn.

"And what did they say?" asked Thule.

"Actually, I'm not talking to my parents," said Dawn, "But, I didn't
think telling him I needed to ask my girlfriend and her boyfriend who
might or might not be my boyfriend too would go over as well."

Thule sat back, "Do you want to go to the prom with him?" asked Thule.

"I don't know," said Dawn, "I only really know him from autoshop and
lunch. He seems like a nice enough guy."

"If Scott is your concern, I can tell you that I've always liked him,"
said Thule, "We're not close, but he's smart and funny. The only
particular character flaw I've noticed in him is a total lack of
social skill when it comes to dealing with women. I'm surprised he
worked up the courage to ask you."

"It was very awkward," said Dawn, "but kind of cute."

Thule nodded, waiting for Dawn to go on.

"So," she asked, "do you think I should say yes?"

Thule thought about it as he let his hands reassemble the camera, "If
I say you should, are you going to take that to mean that I'm trying
to get rid of you?"

"It's not a test, Thule," said Dawn, "I just want to know what you
think."

"I can't speak for Marigold, but I think you should go if you want to
go," said Thule.

"You won't be jealous?" asked Dawn, "What if I decided I wanted to go
out with Scott?"

"I would be astounded," said Thule, "As for jealousy, I don't
particularly feel like I'm entitled to it, but I would be a little."

Dawn leapt up, "Thank you, Thule." She hugged him around the neck and
kissed his cheek before bounding off to her room.

Thule shook his head. The women in his life seemed to be conspiring to
confuse him.

When Dawn emerged, she was dressed in a different pair of gray sweats
and a white baby tee with baby-blue sleeves. Thule wondered if she
dressed like this for bed when she lived at home.

He was sitting on the couch and gestured her over. Dawn sat with her
back against his side, his arm wrapped loosely around her.

"The whole camera dissection distracted me," said Dawn, "I forgot to
mention that I finished looking over the Caddy. The problem is even
simpler than I thought. I've got to replace a couple of hoses, then
it'll be ready to drive. There are maybe a half-dozen things that
should be swapped out due to wear and tear, but those can be done in a
day or two when you don't need a car and they're not expensive."

"You're sure there's not some bigger problem lurking behind them?"
asked Thule.

"No," said Dawn, "That's what took most of the time. I wanted to make
sure I didn't miss anything. It took me fifteen minutes to find the
hose breaks. I suggested that dealership because I know the mechanics
there have no pride in craftsmanship and I suspected that there would
be some good deals based on 'undiagnosable problems.'"

"How come I never had a hint that you were interested in cars?" asked
Thule.

Dawn shrugged, "There are a lot of things you don't know about me,
Thule. When your life is as...complicated as mine, you play things
pretty close to the vest. As for the car thing, I've been fascinated
with cars for years, like my brothers. But, one of the few things my
parents have emphatically agreed on is that girls do not become
mechanics. So, I got used to keeping it a secret."

"How did you learn so much, then?" asked Thule.

"Jake and my brothers rebuilt cars during the summer," said Dawn. "I
wasn't really interested in what they were doing until I realized that
they were deliberately trying to keep me amused and away from the car.
After that, I became fascinated. When Doug started working at Ogden's
garage, I tagged along a lot. When Doug moved away, I started working
there whenever I could get away. They treat me like a little sister.
Plus, they think it's hysterical to watch me work and talk."

"I can't imagine that your parents would be thrilled with you being
there, whether you're making a living or not," said Thule.

"That's why I don't tell them," said Dawn, "Most of the time, my
parents don't care where I am or who I'm with. But, they care just
enough to keep me from being able to do what I want. I can't get a
regular job there because my parents would eventually decide to keep
me home for some fucked-up reason one day too many and I'd lose it."

"Do they really treat you like a little sister there?" Thule asked. He
tried to keep the incredulity out of his voice.

"Can you keep a secret?" asked Dawn.

Thule looked down at her, not bothering to answer the question.

"Sorry," said Dawn, "obviously, you can. Well, this is a secret. Carl,
who owns the garage, is gay. His head mechanic is an ex-boyfriend.
So's one of the other guys. The other two aren't, but they know I'm to
be treated with consideration and respect, even if I flirt with them
until they're ready to burst."

"Do they know the other three are gay?" asked Thule.

"I doubt it," said Dawn, "not by the way they talk."

"Is your brother gay?" asked Thule.

"Doug?" asked Dawn, "Yeah. Dave might be. He's kind of...artistic.
That's probably why my parents are so weird about me doing anything
too dikey, like being a mechanic."

"Wait," said Thule, "Your parents named you Dawn, Donna, Doug, and
David. You mentioned you had three brothers. What's the third's name?"

"Damocles," said Dawn. When Thule looked at her, surprised, she
laughed, "Gotcha. He's named Darryl, like my grandfather, but we
always called him by his middle name, Gray."

Thule nodded, "I've always been suspicious of people who feel the need
to apply naming conventions to their children."

"Consider my parents a primary exhibit," said Dawn, "So, what about
this stuff you handed over to the FBI?"

Thule told her. It felt good to catalog all of the Vandevoorts' crimes
without worrying about standards of evidence. He speculated on what
some of the more intriguing, but mysterious bits meant. Then, because
he was on a roll, he told her about his plans to meet with Brianne and
get her to incriminate herself and to get Vladi to show him where June
was buried. The only thing he'd left out was putting the idea in
Randy's head to kill Ivan.

After he'd finished telling her his plans for entrapping Vladi, Dawn
said quietly, "You have to let me help."

"What?" said Thule, "No. Dawn, it's much too dangerous."

"So, who are you going to use?" asked Dawn, "Marigold?"

"No," said Thule, "This FBI agent I told you about, Matika."

"Does she know you're planning this?" asked Dawn.

"Not yet," said Thule, "But, she wants to get the Vandevoorts as much
as I do. She'll agree."

"Thule," said Dawn, "You have to let me help. There's too much risk in
using Matika. What if Vladi knows she's an FBI agent? What if he
recognizes her from Randy's party?"

Thule shrugged, "Maybe he'll just think I picked her up there and kept
her on."

"But, he already knows you're sleeping with me," said Dawn, "I would
be a much more likely victim. Thule, you have to use me."

"No, Dawn," said Thule gently, "it's much too dangerous."

"Thule, I'm volunteering," said Dawn, "I'm tired of standing on the
sideline and being rescued all the time. I owe Vladi. It should be my
body, not June Kane's you're out there looking for. I owe all of them.
If you don't let me help, I'll probably have weird control issues my
whole life and have to get a lot of expensive therapy to fix them.
Please, Thule."

Thule rubbed his temples, "I'm sure you already need a lot of
expensive therapy."

Dawn said, "Cut it out, Thule. I mean it."

"So do I," said Thule, "I won't put you in danger like that."

Dawn glared at him stubbornly, "So, I should just stay out of the way
while the big boys play?"

Thule sighed, "If you are determined to see it like that, yes. Now,
stop pouting. That's not going to get you your way this time."

Thule went to bed that night assuming he would sleep alone. The stony
silence following the conversation would have seemed to be a leading
indicator. He'd left her in the living room watching TV when he went
to bed. But, some time later, well after midnight, he woke to see Dawn
in profile, standing at the foot of his bed.

"I can't sleep," she said. "Can I sleep in here?"

Thule slid over to make room for her. She crawled in under the sheets,
pressing up against him. Sensing that she was more interested in
companionship than anything else, Thule curled around her.

"Too quiet?" he asked.

"No," said Dawn, "I was just thinking about everything you told me and
getting scared for you. I don't understand how you survived as long as
you did. And, you don't seem willing to stop until you get yourself
killed."

Thule pet her hair, "Dawn, I'm sorry if I gave that impression. I just
have a couple more things that I have to do, then I'm done with this
sort of thing forever."

Dawn turned in his arms to face him, "Promise?"

Thule kissed the tip of her nose, "I promise. Once this thing with the
Vandevoorts is finished, I'm out of the revenge business."

Dawn nodded in his arms, stifling a yawn. Already, she was falling
asleep.

                               -=-

Thule felt Dawn launching herself out of bed a second before he heard
his alarm. By the time he was dressed and showered, Dawn was already
making breakfast which she, thankfully, served fully dressed. He
worried that Dawn was getting far more attached to him than he could
afford to get attached to her. He put the concern aside. Relationship
issues had to take a back seat today. Sternly, he reminded himself
that letting things come to a head before you dealt with them was a
sign he was overextended. It didn't help. He knew he was overextended.
He'd never planned on going into the end phase of this with a
girlfriend, much less two. Still, he couldn't bring himself to regret
any of it. He was one lucky bastard and he knew it.

Thule drove Dawn to school that morning while Marigold drove herself.
She showed up on the front steps a few minutes after he did, a larger
gaggle of cheerleaders in her wake than the day before. Thule soon saw
why. She was chatting with Ioke.

As he watched Ioke chat with the other cheerleaders, Thule felt a wave
of relief wash over him. She would make a fine princess of
Mannsborough. He wished he could believe that, by decapitating the
reality-warping cliques that made Mannsborough High such a
particularly perilous place to grow up, he had eliminated them. But,
he knew better. For all practical purposes, every high school was like
Mannsborough, differing only by degree.

With Ioke willing to lead, it meant that he didn't have to prime Dawn
to take the place that would have been June Kane's. He wished he had
someone as likable as Ioke to push to take Randy's place next year.
Most of the likely candidates would be implicated when the rape video
was released. There would be a real power vacuum in the pecking order.
Worse, Kolya Vandevoort would be in the tenth grade next year.

Mentally, Thule shrugged. The next generation would have to take care
of themselves.

As the homeroom bell rang, Marigold took Thule aside, close enough so
that her phalanx couldn't hear, she whispered, "Do you still intend to
be available next weekend, after the prom?"

"Yeah," said Thule, "why?"

"I got it all set up so that I'll have access to my father's old
summer house. We used to go there when I was little. I'm having it
cleaned up this week. It hasn't been used in about ten years."

"A house?" asked Thule, "That's great. I wasn't really looking forward
to a hotel full of our drunken peers. It'll be nice to have a weekend
with just the two of us."

"Erm," said Marigold, "about that..."

Thule looked down at her. She looked up.

"You don't mind having her along?" asked Thule.

"No," said Marigold, "I'm rather looking forward to it. Besides, I
don't see how we could not invite her. Do you mind having her along?"

"No," said Thule, "Not at all."

"But?" asked Marigold.

"But nothing," said Thule, "I've got to learn to stop looking for
trouble where there isn't any. I've got to be the luckiest guy in the
world and I keep poking the beehive."

"We do need one ground rule, though," said Marigold.

"Oh?" asked Thule.

Marigold nodded, "When it's the three of us, I cook. If I'm feeling
charitable, she may assist."

                              -=-

Soon enough, the day was over. Just as Thule was walking down to the
parking lot to meet Brianne, his cell phone rang. Thule didn't
recognize the number, but it was inside of Mannsborough.

"Mr. Roemer," said the heavily-accented voice on the other end of the
phone, "This is Vil Umanski. I was wondering if you would do me the
favor of meeting with me this afternoon."

Thule said as calmly as he could, "Mr. Umanski, as much as I would
like to honor your request, I am rather pressed for time this
afternoon. I may be able to schedule a..."

"Mr. Roemer," said Vil, "I assure you that I will not take up much of
your time. I need only ten minutes. I am in Von Kliebolt Park, near
the city center, sitting at the chess boards. Please, humor an old
man."

Thule saw Brianne coming towards him. He didn't want Vil to hear her
voice over his phone, so he said, "Ten minutes, Mr. Umanski. That is
all I can afford to give you today. Good day."

"Was that him?" asked Brianne.

Thule shook his head, "No. That was another matter I'm going to have
to deal with on the way. It shouldn't take long."

Brianne hugged him, "I just want to get this over with."

"I hope you're not starting to chicken out," said Thule, "I'd hate to
see Ian get away with this."

Brianne's face hardened, "Not a chance."

After they were in the car, driving away, Thule asked, "Did you bring
what I told you to?"

"Yeah," said Brianne, "I've got to tell you. Carrying this much cash
and coke all day in school was rather nerve wracking."

"You'll be rid of it soon enough," said Thule, "How badly stepped on
is the coke?"

"Hardly at all," said Brianne, "I don't want to fuck this up. This is
some of my best stuff."

"You haven't used any today, have you?" said Thule, "I don't need you
fucked up for this meeting."

Brianne shook her head, "I haven't had any in like a year. I'm
starting again tomorrow." When she saw the puzzled look on Thule's
face, she added, "That gives me a week to get into my prom dress and
four weeks before I leave for Europe."

"So," asked Thule, "you do coke for four weeks out of every year?"

Brianne nodded, "It's the Hollywood diet nobody talks about.
Juan-Carlo, my supplier, says a lot of starlets start a few weeks
before a new role. I do it for swimsuit season."

Thule wanted to follow the subject farther, but reluctantly let it
drop.

After a couple of minutes, Brianne said, "I can't believe you're still
driving this thing. You need to get a new car."

"Got one already," said Thule, "A classic, Cadillac convertible."

"Mmmm," said Brianne, "I always told Ian he should get a convertible.
Are you going to show me off in it?"

"No," said Thule, "Not around here anywhere. Marigold doesn't care
what I do as long as I don't flaunt it. But, I'm not going to ruin
that, not even for your hot, little coked-up body."

Brianne laughed, "You're a very funny guy, Thule."

Thule parked on the street a block away from Von Kliebolt Park. There
was closer parking, but he didn't want to chance Vil Umanski seeing
Brianne in his car.

"Twenty minutes," said Thule, "and I'll be right back."

As he leaned over to undo his seatbelt, Brianne reached out and kissed
him. After a moment of surprise, he took the back of her head and
kissed her back.

"Be careful," she said.

"Always," said Thule. Walking away from the car, he stopped to lean on
the first tree out of sight to compose himself. Somehow, Brianne
voicing concern for his well-being had rattled him. He took out a
cigarette and lit it before walking to where the chess boards were.
Vil Umanski sat behind one, a cane leaning on the bench next to him
and a blanket across his lap. To one side stood another man Thule
recognized as part of Ivan's security team. As Thule approached, the
younger man walked a discreet distance away.

Thule looked at the pieces on the board and laughed, "You set up a
chess problem. Isn't that a bit of a cliche?"

"I am a fan of the classics," said Vil Umanski, "And I seem to have
heard somewhere that you are quite a player. Have a seat, please."

Thule sat down across from Vil. His eyes scanned the board.

"You are going to ruin the Vandevoort family," said Umanski evenly.

Thule paused, hand extended, reaching for a piece.

"You don't need to touch the board," said Vil, "White has already
lost, provided black springs the trap."

Thule took his hand back, "Why do you say I'm ruining the
Vandevoorts?"

"You made Ivan very angry," said Umanski, "Angry enough that he wants
you dead."

Thule shrugged, "I doubt that if Ivan Vandevoort wanted me dead I
would be sitting here having this conversation."

Umanski asked, "Do you recognize the board position?"

Thule looked at it, "One of the Karpov-Kasparov boards, I believe.
But, I thought you said black won. It seems like white has a distinct
advantage."

"If Ivan Vandevoort wanted you out of the way," said Umanski, "you
would be. But, he gets furious whenever your name is mentioned. He
does not need another dangerous obsession."

"So, what should I do," asked Thule, "drop dead?"

"You should calm down," said Umanski, "Make peace."

"I have no interest in peace with Ivan," said Thule.

"I have always liked this match," said Umanski, "Kasparov is black. In
spite of a disastrous opening defense, he has a chance to break
Karpov's control of the board, but his spirit is broken. He sees what
he needs to do, but chooses the conservative path. He might as well
have conceded. When you are at a strong disadvantage, you can not
fight a war of attrition. You must strike out with everything you
have, take every inch, give away what is traditionally too valuable
for what you get in return."

Thule stared at the board, "I don't see it."

"I think you do," said Vil Umanski, "It is very much your style. If
you continue down the road you are following, you will destroy two
fortunes. I have watched you of late. Ivan is a horrible chess player
because he seeks to obliterate his opponent, rather than merely
defeating him. If you continue to antagonize him, he will come after
you and your protector. Tarr has always been too much for him to
swallow without crippling himself. It won't matter. If he can't
separate you from Jonas Tarr, he will throw everything he has at
ruining the man. Then, he will throw everything he has left at his
nyekulturney son. You may well win, but there won't be much left to
win. Control of the family will have passed to the branch back in
Amsterdam."

"You don't seem to like your employer very much," observed Thule.

"Just now," said Vil Umanski, "You saw the correct path and discarded
it. Look again. This is not one of your computer simulations, Mr.
Roemer. The path is too fraught with peril for a computer to follow
it. You will be weaker, but that leads to strength."

"What do you suggest I do?" asked Thule. He wasn't talking about the
board.

"You have met Tryne?" asked Vil Umanski.

"Randy's sister?" asked Thule, "Yes, at the party on Saturday."

"She is a lovely girl," said Vil Umanski, "her mother's child. Randy
is all his father, even though they hate each other. Randy stands to
inherit the bulk of his father's estate, whatever Ivan does not
squander. Without guidance, he will squander the rest."

"I just don't see the strategy you have in mind," said Thule, "I'm
sorry. I guess I'm just not the chess player you think I am. As for
the practical matter at hand, I do not think Tryne likes me very
much."

Vil Umanski laughed, a sound like creaking hinges and crumpling paper,
"That is no matter. You are both young and driven by your urges. If
you set your mind to it, you could have her. She does not think she is
seeking a political alliance, but a man to love. This will be her
undoing."

Thule chuckled, "And Tarr?"

"Tarr is nothing compared to the Vandevoorts," said Umanski, "Lose her
or string her along. She makes no difference."

Thule rose, "I'll consider what you've said."

"Mr. Roemer," said Umanski, "not revealing your strategy for this
puzzle tells me as much as revealing it would."

Thule looked down at the board, "Well," he said, knocking the king
over in a gesture of submission, "you have my answer then. What do you
make of it?"

Umanski laughed, "That you value your secrets more than your image.
That is a very different picture than you have shown my employer and
his son. I'll be watching you closely, Mr. Roemer."

                                        -=-

Thule stopped his car on the road leading over the mountain. It was on
the far side from the Vandevoort estate, outside of the Mannsborough
town limits. Tucking the pistol into his waistband, he took Brianne's
hand and led her up the packed-dirt path to the hunting cabin.

"If I'd known we were taking a nature hike," said Brianne, "I would
have worn better shoes."

"He didn't tell me where we were meeting until two hours ago," said
Thule.

"If I turn an ankle, you're going to have to carry me," said Brianne.

"You look light enough," said Thule.

"This guy isn't like a total psycho, is he?" asked Brianne.

"Brianne, love," said Thule patiently, "He's a hired killer. I'm sure
the APA won't be giving him any awards for stability."

"But, he's not some kind of grizzled mountain man who hasn't seen a
woman in years, is he?" asked Brianne.

Thule pointed to the cabin, "We're barely three hundred yards from the
road. And, besides, he doesn't live here. He works for Randy's father,
takes care of his interests. But, he's always looking to pick up a few
bucks on the side. He's already got the structure in place for...this
sort of thing, so it's like found money to him."

"Has he killed a lot of people?" asked Brianne.

"I don't ask," said Thule, "He's been very efficient in the past."

"You've worked with him before?" asked Brianne.

"Of course," said Thule, "You wouldn't expect me to trust something
this important to some guy out of the Yellow Pages, would you?"

"Thanks, Thule," she said, turning to him, wrapping her arms around
his neck, "You're the only trustworthy guy I know. Thank you for
helping me do the right thing."

Thule put an arm around her waist, kissing her before he said darkly,
"That's me. All about doing the right thing."

"I did not invite you out here so you could use my cabin for your
little sex games," said Jake, standing in chiaroscuro beneath the big
oak that almost hid the door of the cabin, a shotgun cradled in his
hands. Brianne gave a little shriek of surprise and hugged Thule
tighter.

Thule gave her a reassuring squeeze, "Let's get this over with."

Jake led them inside. There was a bed, a table, two chairs, and a
fireplace. Unless Thule was mistaken, it also contained about ten
thousand dollars worth of surveillance equipment.

"Quaint," said Brianne, trying to dust off one of the chairs.

Jake, who was wearing a flannel shirt and blue jeans, took off the
outer shirt revealing a black t-shirt underneath, and laid it on the
chair. Brianne sniffed and sat down on it.

"So," said Jake, "this guy you want me to visit, he's still in jail.
Nobody told me that."

"He's got a bail hearing on Monday," said Thule, "He'll be moved to
Mannsborough PD lockup."

"The one with the big windows, across from the park?" asked Jake.

Thule nodded, "And he'll be walked from the lockup to the courthouse
on Monday morning seven thirty, right across the town square. There
are about a hundred places you could take him out from and disappear."

"Wow," said Brianne, looking at Thule, "you've really thought about
this."

Thule shrugged, "I'm just looking out for your best interest,
sweetie."

"Let me get this straight," said Jake, turning to Brianne and getting
them back on script, "You want me to kill this guy while he's got a
police escort and you want me to do it at seven thirty in the morning?
You didn't tell me any of this."

"Thule," said Brianne, "what's going on? I thought you arranged this
already."

Thule laid a restraining hand on her shoulder, then said, "Yeah, Jake.
What the fuck is this? We had a deal."

Jake shrugged, "Give me a break, Thule. You bring me this little teeny
bopper cunt with a fistful of greenbacks and a sob story. What's the
matter, sweetheart? Is your boyfriend screwing around on you? Cause if
that's it, I want nothing to do with this. You'll probably just wind
up crying to me tomorrow about how you love him. There's no fucking
refunds in this business, honey."

"I won't need a refund," said Brianne, "And he didn't just cheat on
me." She recounted what Ian had done to her, the sexual and financial
blackmail, the web site, and a few other details that Thule hadn't
heard before. If this had been all Thule knew of the story, he would
have wanted to kill Ian himself to avenge Brianne. As it was, he still
did. He just wanted Brianne to go down, too.

After she was done, Jake shrugged his shoulders, "He sounds like a
real bastard. But, are you sure you want him dead? This isn't a game
we're playing, girl. Say the word and he doesn't see many more
sunrises."

"I want him dead," said Brianne.

Thule fought the urge to gasp. They were almost there. Jake stretched,
"Fair enough. Show me what you got for me."

Brianne fumbled for her purse, then pulled out a stack of hundreds and
an envelope full of off-white powder.

Jake picked it up, "There's only ten thousand here."

Brianne looked to Thule for help. He couldn't help. She had to say it
herself. She turned back to Jake, "That's the deal," she said, "ten
thousand now and the rest after he's dead."

"Jesus Christ," said Jake, "The coke's not even white any more. How
badly did you step on it?"

"It's good stuff," said Brianne, "Try it."

Jake rolled open the baggy, dipped a pinky nail in the powder and put
it to his gums, "I stand corrected. So, this is all mine?"

"Yeah," said Brianne, "Ten thousand and an ounce and a half now. I'll
give Thule another twelve thousand for you when he takes me home.
He'll give it to you when Ian is dead."

"Good enough," said Jake, "Pleasure doing business with you."

"Come on," said Thule, "let's get out of here."

As they went out the door and down the steps, Brianne said, "If I'd
known it was that easy, I would have had him killed a long time ago."

"Freeze!" shouted John, dressed in black riot gear, "FBI" emblazoned
across his chest in white block letters. He was holding an M-16 at
shoulder level, pointing it in Thule's face.

Even though he'd been expecting it, John's sudden materialization
startled Thule enough for him to give a shout of alarm. Brianne
screamed, "Thule," as another agent grabbed her shoulder and pushed
her to her knees. She looked up at him, as if he could do something
against a half-dozen heavily-armed FBI agents. Thule knew that he
couldn't just stand there with every agent focusing on taking her down
or she would figure out that he'd been involved in setting her up.
John had turned to face her, ignoring him. Thule reached out, grabbing
the M-16 in both hands and stepping up against John, who looked up at
him alarmed.

"Subdue me, dammit," growled Thule through clenched teeth. John did
so, twisting the rifle out of Thule's loose grip and bringing up the
stock to connect with the side of Thule's head. Thule dropped like a
side of beef.

                               -=-

When Thule came to, there was a sharp pain in his head and the taste
of blood in his mouth. Matika was looking down at him, concerned, and
holding an ice pack to his head. When he opened his eyes, she took a
penlight and shined it in each eye in turn.

"No sign of concussion," she said.

"Matika," he said, smiling up at her, "you're looking lovely this
morning. I only wish I could remember what we did last night."

"Correct that," said Matika, "he appears to be delusional."

John looked down at him, "That was an incredibly stupid thing you did
back there."

Thule tried to sit up, "If I'd waited even one more second, she would
have known I set her up. Did you have to hit me so hard?"

"You're lucky I didn't shoot you," said John, "You shouldn't startle a
man with an M-16, son. What difference does it make if she knows now?
She'll know by Monday anyway."

Thule sat up all the way, despite Matika gently trying to push him
back down with her free hand, "Vil Umanski is watching me. I can't
take any chances until the indictments come down."

"Who?" asked John.

"Ivan Vandevoort's right-hand man," said Matika, "Tough customer.
Ex-KGB."

"NKVD," said Thule, "It was the founding of the KGB that made him
defect. He's mentioned in a few declassified documents from around
1959."

"You should lie back down," said Matika, glaring at John, "That was
quite a shot."

Thule growled, taking the ice pack from her hand, "I've always had a
thick skull. Do I need stitches or anything?"

"No," said Matika, "You've got a tiny cut. It bled out fairly
quickly."

Thule looked up at John, "It didn't occur to me before tonight, but
how many of the people involved in this operation are actual field
agents?"

"Just Matika," said John, "I'm a librarian."

"Shit," muttered Thule, "You guys are really out on a limb here."

John nodded, "It's all of our careers if we don't produce something by
Monday. But, we've got Brianne in the other room now and she's singing
like a canary. So far, she thinks we just want her to rat out her drug
contacts. We'll start in on the Vandevoorts tomorrow."

"Where are we?" asked Thule.

"Modified Ryder truck," said John, "parked on one of the back roads
near the base of the mountain."

"My car?" asked Thule.

"It wouldn't start," said John, "We put it in neutral and coasted it
down the mountain before we called a tow truck, so it wouldn't be
sitting out by the crime scene all night. They towed it to your
house."

Thule nodded. He stood up. His head was a little fuzzy, but he was all
right. He turned to John, "Do you need me for anything else tonight?"

"No," said John, "Agent Nazarov will give you a ride home."

Thule looked at John. He seemed to be expecting something.

"Thank you," Thule said. John's face remained impassive. Thule
wondered what else he could say. An idea came to his mind, but he
couldn't believe that this experienced FBI agent would want that from
him. Still, it was true, so he said it.

"You all did a good job tonight," said Thule, "Thank you."

John smiled and nodded.

Princes of Mannsborough, Part 20
by Vulgar Argot
(MF, MF, MFF(tease), loofa-throwing, rom)

--Vulgar Argot
  http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/VulgarArgot/www
--
"Vulgarity begins when imagination succumbs to the explicit."
  --Doris Day

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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