Anton glowered at Mr. Smith after counting the boys lined up before him on his fingers for the second time. "You say twelve boys yes? I am counting eight! You have wasted my time, deceived me yes? Cost much limited funds for interview. AM I MADE OF MONEY?" He roared and struggled to rise from his chair. Hans and Herman stepped forward to take his arms. He motioned them away and Meesha and Noah forward to help. Both by then were naked and unashamed. Mr. Smith longed to touch their tanned athletic bodies after they were ordered to strip for a frank appraisal. He was most interested in the large diamond ear studs they wore along with even larger pendants around their necks and matching diamond rings. Joe was added to the entourage as a secretary and interpreter so the Europeans would know instantly what was said in English. Joe warned Smith off with the shake of his head. Anton told Hans and Herman that he would be acting, but he wanted no premature harm to befall Mr. Smith and his staff and rage by the Master was cause to draw blood instantly and fatally. "This interview ends. I say I do not harm business. You deceive me now I harm business!"
Mr. Smith, Evan's stepfather paled at the threat. He was still in shock from seeing the size of the helicopter that landed in the middle of the boy's playing field inside the walled compound. That turned to fear when two black suited men with shaved heads were first to emerge from the hatch carrying deadly machine pistols. They deployed like automatons with their backs to the chopper twenty feet out and continually swept the leveled weapons in ninety-degree arcs until he began to approach after the rotators stopped. The weapons settled on him. He froze when the men grinned and he saw their index fingers drop to the triggers. Joe was next. He was unsmiling and talked constantly into a microphone clipped openly to the lapel of his expensive European tailored suit jacket. Two strikingly handsome teenagers stepped down next; they were dressed identically in white including their neckties. They immediately took an expectant stance at the foot of the steps and stared straight ahead with nervous glances at the hatch. The boys were followed by one more shaved head, which nodded into the open hatch after surveying his surroundings intently. Yet another baldy appeared. He turned to the hatch as soon as his feet touched ground to help Anton Falconburg down the helicopter's steps.
Anton was dressed casually as if he'd just stepped from his yacht; all in white except for a double-breasted navy blue blazer and an equally wine dark ascot bulging from a starched open white collared shirt. His only adornment was a diamond-encrusted stickpin in the shape of a dagger in the lapel of his jacket. He warned Hans and Herman away from him with a frown and a swipe of his heavy cane. Even at a distance it was obvious that all wore communication devices with ear buds and small microphones. Mr. Smith wondered if their conversations were recorded as he watched Anton stop in front of Meesha and Noah. They smiled at him with sighs of relief only after he smiled at them. He pinched their cheeks fondly. His smile faded after caressing their faces and then feeling their chins in turn. He frowned and shook his head sadly before he turned his hard eyed attention to Mr. Smith. A look of distain crossed Anton's face and held. Mr. Smith suddenly felt like an insect that could and would be squashed if he became even slightly annoying.
The insect feeling intensified at that moment in the recreation room when Anton switched languages after the boys helped him stand. The four bodyguards reacted by reaching, only reaching inside their open suit jackets. Mr. Smith had no wish to see the muzzles of those automatic weapons a second time after they were holstered on entering the building. He felt his sphincter working faster than his mouth as he hastened to explain. "But Sir there are twelve, there are four more, they're new, untried and very undisciplined. I didn't have them brought out because they're very rebellious at being required to perform duties and ah, services for gentlemen of your stature. I was concerned that you'd be disappointed and even quite possibly injured if they began acting out their hostilities at the wrong moment when you were alone with them. You may see them if you wish, but I make no guarantees of satisfaction."
Anton appeared to be mollified, "I will see them, these two were once rebellious," he dropped his free hand to Meesha's manhood and stroked him to hardness before he continued; "now they are not." He glanced back at Hans and Herman with a leer and a few words of German. Both smiled in anticipation and rubbed their trousers just as Anton instructed.
Mr. Smith forgot whom he was dealing with and frowned at Anton, "I wouldn't want the new boys hurt or damaged in any way. They all demonstrate positive tendencies but as yet they're reluctant to perform for adult clients."
Anton's face changed, "I do not hurt boys! I would hurt you before I allow boys to be hurt! I will see them now!"
Mr. Smith cringed and picked up a wall phone. A door opened after a short wait. Five boys walked in. One taller, older and wearing athletic shorts herded four clearly reluctant younger naked ones before him. When the older boy stopped just inside the room, the younger boys clustered around him perhaps seeking his protection. He flashed a look of disgust at Anton before he studied the floor. Anton noted that the eight already in the room also looked at this older teen with concern, perhaps fondness.
"You say there are twelve, you produce eight. I demand to see four more, now there are thirteen. Do you withhold yet more from me?"
Mr. Smith counted heads, "Oh no Sir! The older boy, Billy, has been with me the longest and now serves in the position of house parent. I'm afraid he's a bit too generous with the liberties he allows them all at times, but he maintains quiet and order in the residence." He shrugged as if to say, "Who could ask for more?"
Anton nodded and looked around, "You have other staff? Surely you cannot run a business like this with just one stripling youth." Anton asked with his eyes on Billy, the house parent and obviously a friend, an older brother figure. He remembered that Evan told him of a friend who committed suicide, or so Evan thought. His name was Billy.
Mr. Smith continued, proud of his organization, "I have an able assistant who serves as my administrator and four orderlies who also act as guards, you know to keep intruders at bay, they also help transport them to clients and back, things of that nature. Such specialized help is difficult to find." He smiled, "Actually they found me through the website. None could afford membership and volunteered their services in return for occasional access to, well you understand."
Anton nodded with finality, "Yes, like children locked in sweet shop." He switched to Russian to issue a spate of rapid-fire orders, or appear to. The guards at the exit door left them and returned with two bulging suitcases and one metal attaché case. They dropped the luggage near Noah and Meesha and held up the brief case to Anton. He worked the combination locks quickly, opened the case and unceremoniously dumped the contents, bundles of American currency on the floor. "These cases are most expensive I keep it. This is agreed fee for all twelve," he pointed at Billy, "plus house mother at no charge." He swept his hand at the boys, "They will need clothing. Will you accompany us or trust me to return them in one week in good order?" He looked at his heavy watch without waiting for an answer; he already knew the money tipped the scales, "We depart in five minutes. I will await them in helicopter."
Mr. Smith acquired all the symptoms of a stroke in progress. He fell to his knees in front of one million dollars in cash and looked helpless. "But, but, I thought this was just a tour of my facility. I didn't know you planned to take them just now. I have other arrangements for some. I can't just let them go alone and I can't just drop everything and disappear for a week." His two hands closed on as many bundles as he could clutch to his chest while he protested.
Meesha and Noah fell to their knees pitifully begging Anton not to be left behind. He pushed them away from his legs roughly. They fell into each other's arms and began crying theatrically. Anton saw that Meesha was on the verge of giggling and kicked him in the side. "Now you have something to cry about you sorry actor," he said gruffly in Russian. The pulled kick didn't help; Meesha buried his face in Noah's shoulder so his giggles sounded somewhat like crying. Mr. Smith didn't notice.
Anton handed the empty case to Hans with a snort of disgust, and nodded. He and Herman stooped and began putting the fortune back in the case. They started with the bundles Mr. Smith held lovingly. "You think I waste fuel with two helicopter trips? AM I MADE OF MONEY?" He concluded with an indignant roar, barely able to conceal his own glee with a fit of laughter.
Mr. Smith came to his senses as the last bundle was wrenched from his hands. "I, I'll just make some quick phone calls. I know; all the boys will have a contagious disease. I'll call my wife; she'll understand a business trip." He began removing the money from the case as fast as Hans and Herman could collect and stack it. Anton nodded. Hans again emptied the case on the floor and fell in position to the left and slightly behind his master as he limped toward the door.
Anton turned suddenly. His eyes touched Billy's, he smiled kindly and winked, "Hurry please, promptness is a virtue." Billy nodded and smiled brightly while his master's attention was fixed on his money. He winked at the eight, then whispered to the four and stepped back to avoid being trampled. Anton noted that the boys all offered Billy a smile as they ran from the room.
"What do I do with them?" Billy asked Mr. Smith, pointing at Meesha and Noah.
Anton answered, "Just lock in, not otherwise restrain, they are most trust worthy if they have food, drink and a bed. See?" He tipped his chin at his pets. Noah and Meesha had begun making out with each other and were struggling for the top position playfully. Mr. Smith nodded while he busily loaded a trash basket with his payment.
Will loaded a tape in Jessica Connor Smith's VCR while she clutched an eight by ten photograph of her smiling son Evan. There was no question in her mind that the photo was real or recent, her son looked two years older; he was taller, he had begun to fill out as a teenager of thirteen would. Evan added a message with a Sharpie pen: HI Mom! This big guy is Will; trust him, he'll explain. SEE YOU SOON! LOVE, Evan. The photo was Will's admission into the Smith home.
The tape began to play with an extreme close up of Evan's face, aping, making faces at the camera. He complained, to the photographer, "Did you start it already? Goddamnit, I wasn't ready. Can you erase this part and start over?" The camera bobbed, but kept on recording. "Okay, now I'm ready." He cleared his throat, "Hi Mom! Surprise, it's really me. I'm glad you trusted the big duffus who brought you this tape. He's a really nice guy and a good friend even though I like to pick on him like calling him names." Evan looked around; he was standing in the empty main lounge of the 747. "There's too much to try and tell you here. So much has happened since I ran away after I thought I killed the asshole you married. Things were rough at first. Then I met a bunch of guys, who have more money than God himself, then I even met God, not really, but a super nice old guy that liked me so much he adopted me as a grandson. Legally, almost, but anyway I'm standing inside of our airplane, it's a 747 just for us, its ours and if you go with Will like he's going to ask you, you'll be on something like this just smaller real soon, flying down to our own personal island, yours too if you want to live there. Will's going explain everything with no secrets. I can't mention names here just in case Will loses this," he looked to the side of the camera lens, "Well you could," he said defensively and started to giggle as he began walking backward. The camera followed.
"I was standing by the photographer frowning at him," Will explained. "I started to grab him to tickle him. The photographer was supposed to edit this tape, but he likes to kid around even more than your son."
Will's back appeared on the screen, Evan screamed in delight as Will caught him, picked him up and began tickling him without mercy until he begged for it. The tape blanked, then began again with a tour, the big jet first, the Trenton helicopter, then Trenton Hall's exterior and some of the interior, and ended at the pool with Evan surrounded by older boys, who were all naked at first, then after the tape paused again, with them all clad in very brief bathing suits, Evan included. Everyone laughed and posed, flexing their young muscles while Evan tried to ignore them. "These are some of my friends Mom, this is the way they live, the way we live." He hesitated, "The way you and I can be a family again if you don't hate me for what I did, the way I am." His serious demeanor was interrupted after a whispered conference behind his back, Paul and Morgan grabbed him from behind and held him up while Doug and Buck removed his tank suit before he was thrown into the pool screaming with delight.
"Marc, the kid holding the camera best be in deep hiding when I get back." Will mumbled, "He didn't edit a thing, sorry about the nudity, but none of them, your son included, have much use for clothes."
Jessica laughed and clapped her hands in delight, "Even Evan's little butt is tanned! That was wonderful, it is wonderful just the way it is. Okay Will, let's go," she looked down at herself and giggled like Evan, "Oops, that is after I change, pack a bag and call my husband to give him the good news." She suddenly looked devastated, "I can't call Harry can I? Evan said he thought he killed him, Harry knew it was no home invasion, why didn't he just tell me?"
"Your new husband was molesting your son himself and using him and another boy to post video shows on his subscription website. That's it very briefly. I'll explain everything after we get on the plane to the island before Evan joins us so he doesn't have to relive it all by telling you himself. I can't tell you more now in case you decide that just knowing that Evan is well and very happy is enough. I work for some very powerful people." Jessica watched the tall stranger touch his ear bud and smile, "You won't have to call him; he's going to call you to say he's going on a business trip for a week."
Jessica jumped when the phone rang as Will prophesied a few minutes later. She'd spent the time trying to pry more information from the tall good-looking young man but he as yet refused to answer further questions or name names. She began to recall incidents and small anomalies like when Evan began acting differently in the weeks prior to his disappearance, a supposed kidnapping. Then there were the never questioned stained sheets on his bed. As a mother and a registered nurse, she had trouble believing that her eleven year old had begun having nocturnal emissions. It was possible but very remarkable nonetheless without the other signs of puberty. She replaced the receiver carefully after she wished her husband a successful trip. That was another strange thing; a small city insurance broker shouldn't need to go on so many business trips, but her husband did. He also became less and less interested in sex, and when they did make love the act seemed perfunctory, as if he was fulfilling an obligation. The Challenger was airborne five minutes after they boarded it at the local airport.
Jessica looked at the opulence that surrounded her, "All this just for the two of us? This could seat twenty at least."
"No Ma'am, all this just for you." Will corrected her, "Evan and his new grandfather want you to believe."
"Please call me Jessie, everyone does." She frowned, "I'm never going to see my husband again am I? You have some sort of plan for him don't you?" She asked in a quiet voice.
"Yes Ma'am, ah Jessie, there's a plan, and no, your husband will disappear from your lives, yours and Evan's, and his despicable business will cease to exist as if it never was."
Jessie sighed, "Well if what you've told me so far is true, and from what Evan said on that tape, then good, the rotten bastard should die. In fact if you'll take me to him, I'll pull the trigger myself." She had another sudden thought, "If Evan was abused and ran away to live Lord knows where, by himself, how did he survive? Can you tell me that? Did he sell himself, is that how he managed for almost two years? Is he a homosexual now? Is he gay? Did Harry do that to him?"
Will nodded and spent an uninterrupted half hour explaining Evan and the boys that found him, or he them on the street in Ft. Lauderdale. How he approached them because he recognized them as being gay. He smiled slightly, "We have that ability among ourselves for some reason, lucky for us, it saves us from a lot of misunderstandings." He blushed beet red when he realized he'd just outted himself to Evan's mother.
Jessie was dazed, "You too, and ALL of them on the tape by the pool? My God, maybe it happens because you're born too good looking," she suggested quietly.
Will nodded, "Could be, how many times does a kid have to be told he's too pretty to be a boy before he starts to wonder? That's conjecture on my part, I'm not a psychologist, but I might have been told that just enough over the years, even in college and I was six-four." He saw Jessie about to comment, he stopped her with a smile and raised hand, "And please don't say something like, what a waste, I've heard that too many times too from women who know me and I imagine the others have as well."
Jessie giggled after finishing her second drink, "How'd you know?" She asked before she became serious again, "Does Evan have a special friend, a boyfriend? You don't know how difficult the word boyfriend is to say as it pertains to my son."
"I think I do. I had a problem introducing my special friend to anyone as my boyfriend," he blushed again, "and never as my lover, that's a given, but now I'm proud to introduce him as my life partner," Will held up his hand so Jessie could see his ring, "and allow everyone to draw his or her own conclusions. We're either accepted for what we are, a gay couple or we move on and say screw them, figuratively of course, if they don't approve," he giggled. "To answer your question, I don't think so, but I'm not sure," he hedged when he suddenly realized that he was none the worse for his drinks either and nearly admitted that Evan could be found anywhere with any one of the group, or even several and he and Joe were part of the group. He certainly wasn't about to venture into that territory. "That's something you should ask your son," he concluded.
Will told Jessie that Evan was being adopted by Anton Falconburg, that Anton was terminally ill and that Evan was to be his heir. As such Evan would find himself to be one of the wealthiest individuals in the world, he giggled at seeing her disbelief, "Anton's name is on Forbes' list just never where it should be because there's almost no one who knows the extent of his assets. The man I work for, Bucky Trenton,"
Jessie blinked with the seatbelt lights as they lost altitude on their approach to Nassau, "You mean Buckminster Trenton the Third? THAT Trenton?"
"Yup," Will giggled. "Remember the little guy on the tape leaning on Evan's shoulder? He's the fourth, but when you meet him call him Buck, he thinks it sounds older and I might add taller just between us. His father is Bucky. This is a Trenton plane and Evan gave you a tour of Trenton Hall and the new pool, because they were there at the time the tape was made. Anton lives as well in Europe." He laughed, "Anton collects castles among other things. I visited a couple last week when we were there on business. I assure you, you and Evan will live very well indeed wherever you want."
Jessie was quietly dazed when she was helped into a helicopter that landed a hundred feet from the steps of their jet in Nassau. Will smiled to himself when he noted the crest on the side of the shining black chopper; it was Anton's dagger, almost. Instead of pointing down, it pointed up to touch a half circle rainbow and flaring barbs had been added to the blade. Where the blade guards that separated the blade from the handle were curled on Anton's dagger, this new dagger's guard formed two circles. "Billie has been a busy beaver. He already managed to buy his very own helicopter." Will thought. "Only a gay would recognize a stylized erect penis with accompanying balls, and only Billie has a set big enough to adopt it as their new family crest, complete with a screaming rainbow."
The twelve boys with Billy following were first to rush from the building. Each carried a small bag. All were excited by being all together for the first time, a helicopter ride and the adventure of going on a cruise for a whole week on the old mans' yacht. They reasoned that since he was so old and doddering that they wouldn't have much work to do except maybe put on shows with each other while the old guy watched and that was cool. Billy already offered his opinion that the old guy wasn't one of those who enjoyed hurting a kid and in fact told them he liked the old buzzard.
They boarded to find Anton sitting in the middle of the cabin by himself. The four dangerous looking guards and the interpreter sat in the back probably so they could watch everything that went on in the cabin. The boys, Billy included got no further than just inside the hatch. They were all stretching their necks and pushing each other to peer up the short ladder to the flight deck. Anton called Billy to where he was sitting and patted the empty seat; "Tell them please that all can visit pilots later, but now they need no distractions before they make us fly. The boys should find seats and seat buckles." After Billy relayed the message and was obeyed quietly without objection, Anton looked out the window Mr. Smith still hadn't appeared. He grinned at Billy, "We have some amusement, yes?" Billy nodded and frowned wondering what amusement, why already and why he was chosen over one of the younger boys. Anton spoke to the microphone clipped to his lapel in English so Billy would understand, "Please to make like we take off. Run engine fast. Make believe to close door." He laughed, "Mr. Smith I think will not risk loss of inventory. Watch building," he told Billy with a giggle.
They watched together as the building door was opened so violently, it whip-lashed back slamming into Mr. Smith's body nearly knocking him backward. He recovered to run at the half closed hatch held by Hans. He was in such a hurry he carried no luggage. Once aboard he rushed to where Anton and Billy sat and nudged Billy to move so he could sit by Anton. Anton's hand covered Billy's so he couldn't unbuckle his seatbelt while he glared up at Mr. Smith. Mr. Smith turned to the two boys sitting across the aisle; both of them began to move until Hans, standing in the aisle behind him began herding him using his body to bump him to the rear of the aircraft. When they reached two empty seats Hans pushed him into the window seat and joined him. Hans buckled up. When Mr. Smith didn't, Hans helped him with a leering smile, and kept his hand on Mr. Smith's thigh.
Mr. Smith leaned forward so he could see Joe, "Please tell him I'm not interested in his type."
Joe shrugged, "Sorry, I just interpret, everyone's my boss." He grinned when Mr. Smith attempted to push Hans' hand away. "I'll tell you a secret though, he likes guys who play hard to get right up to the last second. Of course after, he'll be very apologetic and kiss all your bruises wherever they might be."
"Oh shit," Mr. Smith moaned, perspiring freely in the frigid air conditioning.
Joe giggled, "Probably not for a couple of days you won't, this guy and his partner take turns and they both love over weight bald guys. If you were thirty pounds lighter, they wouldn't have given you a second glance, bald or not."
Anton relayed the conversation to Billy between chuckles. Billy kept straining in his seatbelt to look back, but all he could see was the top of Mr. Smith's baldhead. His hesitant smile turned to giggles first then open laughter. "Does that guard really like fat bald guys?"
"I think he likes only good friend, they have fun yes? We do not like Mr. Smith's business, I suggest having fun at his expense. He will not enjoy this cruise."
Billy was emboldened by Anton's openness, "If you don't like the business what'd you hire us? You paid him a zillion dollars for us, even me just for a week."
"Mr. Smith harmed my adopted grandson. This trip is how you would say paying back."
"Pay back? Man that's really choice." Billy giggled, "Could I make a suggestion?" He asked, joining in the conspiracy eagerly. Anton nodded, "Have the guy tell old limp dick that your guards hate guys wearing makeup maybe lots of really red lipstick." He frowned, "But I don't suppose there's anything like that around."
Anton broke into a fit of laughter and opened his microphone to relay the suggestion to Joe. He added, "Call Sea Song, tell them to have a complete selection of cosmetics on board by the time we arrive. This joke is very choice."
"Choice? Did you say choice?" Joe asked in surprise
"Wrong word?" Anton asked.
"Nope," Joe laughed, "I'll bet you've been hanging out with a bunch of young dudes."
Anton laughed, "Look up over the seats." When Joe raised his eyes, he was greeted with Anton's raised arm and his middle finger extended. Everyone who heard the exchange in German laughed.
Mr. Smith looked puzzled as he reached for his cellphone. Hans plucked it from his fingers, looked at it, then happily unscrewed the antenna and put it in his pocket before returning the useless instrument. "But, but," he sputtered, "I have to make some calls."
"Sorry no outside communications are allowed unless Mr. Falconburg gives the okay." Joe explained.
Anton sent a smiling Billy forward up to the flight deck first. Anton watched his back while he talked to the pilots and bent over to listen carefully as the copilot explained the controls. When he dropped back into the passenger cabin he pointed to the boys in pairs while he returned to his seat beside Anton. He threw himself down and stretched his legs out in the aisle. "Thanks Mister, that's what I want to do, to be a pilot someday. It would be so cool to be free of the land man, to be free of everything," he sighed and stared off into space.
"You would fly this? Very bad idea, no wings, engine stops," Anton dove his hand down between them, "splat. You must learn the fly with wings. When we board plane, I take you to meet captain you will like very much better. Many switches and dials very confusing, but after you learn you can fly one of my aircraft."
"Yeah if I can ever get away from him. It's a nice dream though."
Anton patted Billy's arm, "I think Mr. Smith will leave you all very soon, then dream becomes real. You will see young Billy, have faith."
The 747 dwarfed the big helicopter when it landed nearby. The boys all looked to Anton without moving from their seats after the hatch was opened. He motioned them out ahead and pointed to the steps leading up to the forward hatch. A foot race began. Hans left Mr. Smith in the unsmiling care of the two new bodyguards and joined their master for the walk to the waiting jet. Billy remained at his side and took his arm when he stumbled once on the way, then just didn't let go. Hans and Herman looked at each other. Anton was pale and walked slower with more difficulty than ever before. When they reached the foot of the steps Herman gently replaced Billy and together with Hans almost carried their master upward all without a word of protest or a flailing cane. Inside, Anton shook free of Herman and invited Billy to take his arm once again. "I will rest awhile. Have the new men take the scumbag somewhere quiet away from the boys," he puffed. He saw their looks of helpless concern and smiled, "I will be fine my friends, we knew this would happen, just not so quickly." He switched to English, "If you will just help to my bed young Billy, I do not feel well suddenly. After, you may join your friends here; there is much to amuse you. Later I take you up to meet Capitan yes?"
"How's it going?" Joe asked Noah using his cellphone.
"Fine, the boys are just finishing up with the loading." There was a van parked at the door to the boy's home. "There were only two orderlies here after you left. They took one look at us and called the other two in. I think they had plans for our beautiful bodies while the boss was away. I'm sorry but I broke one arm. The ass hole groped me. I was surprised and," Noah didn't need to explain further. "It's a clean break," he said defensively over Joe's laughter, "It will heal."
"There won't be time, Hans told me there's going to be a fishing tournament tonight on Sea Song." Joe answered.
"Well this guy is going to have to sit this one out. Wait, fishing tournament, I thought we were going to off these guys?"
"We are, I mean Hans and Herman are, Smith and his friends are going to be the bait." Joe explained.
Noah looked at his phone briefly, "Wow, and our old bosses called me a nasty bastard. Oops, Meesha just gave me thumbs up; we're finished after a walk through. The cash was stuffed in a toilet tank, there were two computers, we've got all the files, there weren't many, and every personal effect that looked like it belonged to a kid. We tossed their rooms like pros. The whole building looks like it was trashed and suddenly abandoned. Hey, one thing, there was a blond kid that gave a tour on the website. He's missing."
"I noticed, but I guess Anton didn't or he would have asked. The Master is in a lot of pain. He's resting in his cabin right now. Smith will tell us before it's his turn or one of the boys will later. Anyway, good, your ride is waiting inside the hanger. We're going to coast along so you can get ahead of us. When you land in Ft. Lauderdale, taxi directly into the hanger to box up the shit, I mean bait, so you can load them on Sea Song without any questions. See you in a couple of hours onboard."
Noah giggled, "Man, will Smith be surprised when he sees us. He'll think Anton reneged on the deal."
"He'll shit bricks when he sees Evan, but after he gets down to the boat deck he won't care about anything except staying alive. Later." Joe disconnected.
Billy helped Anton remove his jacket and shoes. Then brought him a glass of water and a medication bottle that was half full of pills and capsules in assorted sizes and colors. Anton emptied the bottle into his mouth and drank half the water to swallow them. He lay back on the bed, and Billy lifted his feet without being asked. "You are a nice young man Billy, my grandson will be delighted to see you again." Anton whispered before he closed his eyes.
"Again?" Billy asked himself in passing before he wondered what he should do with the old man sleeping. He hadn't been dismissed to join the others, and the old man was a client, so he climbed on the bed to wait for his client to wake up. They weren't touching until Anton sensed his presence. Then he gathered Billy in to his side until Billy's head rested on his shoulder. He lay quietly without moving, alone with his thoughts until the seatbelt sign over the door blinked on with a soft chime. The engine sounds changed. Billy assumed they were about to land.
Anton snapped awake and clutched Billy tighter. Billy moved his head so he could look up. Anton smiled back at him. "Thank you for staying young Billy, you are most thoughtful. Perhaps you can tell I have little liking for aircraft," he sat up lifting Billy with him. "That was refreshing. I feel better. Come we will visit pilots as promised."
"I think we're about to land." Billy pointed to the seatbelt sign.
Anton shrugged, "Not yet I think. We go lower lose altitude, bumpy only maybe. When we land we first hear disgusting sounds of flaps on wings and landing wheels dropping down. There is time, or I order us back up."
Billy opened the door for Anton and was greeted by Hans and Herman. Both smiled their thanks at Billy for helping their master and staying in the room while he rested. Anton grinned at them, "I like this young man too. Even better I believe him to be a friend of my grandson from before he ran away. I look forward to their reunion. Come we're going up to the flight deck."
"Please to speaking English Master?" Hans asked hesitantly.
"You order us to learning we must practice." Herman added in well mangled but understandable English.
Anton nodded, "In future yes, English only."
Two boys in the main lounge were sitting tensely in chairs facing the big TV they were playing a video game and operating the remote controls professionally. The others were clustered around them watching the screen intently, unaware that Anton was watching.
Two realistic figures fought in hand-to-hand combat on the screen. One saw an advantage and took it. His opponent was thrown to his back. "Shooting him." Hans encouraged.
Herman shook his head "Break neck like," he struggled for a word, gave up and made a chicken clucking sound."
"I would cut throat," Anton offered his opinion. All the boys except the two contestants turned to face him. He smiled at them, "Bullets cost money and make noise. Breaking neck is much work and dangerous, knife is silent with no further body contact." He explained his reasoning.
One of the boys operated his controls; his figure drew a knife and plunged it into the chest of his opponent. A loud dying scream alerted other figures. A three to one fight commenced and quickly ended with the one being killed. "See?" Anton giggled, "Cut throat in future yes? No noise and you live to kill others from the back very sneaky."
"I tried, but he's only programmed to stab. I had a silencer on my gun, I should have used that." The losing boy lamented.
"You risk muzzle flash in darkness, then also just as dead. This game is bad for proper training, teaches bad habits."
"It's your game," the loser mumbled.
"Yes," Anton agreed, "Perhaps on island, my friends teach you real skills, both are experts in combat." Hans and Herman acknowledged his complement with smiling nods.
"Yes we teach." Herman agreed.
"Island?" A bold boy asked, "I thought we were going on a boat."
"Boat first, then island for visit. If you like, maybe you stay."
"Yeah, good luck. HE won't let us."
"Mr. Smith?" Anton chuckled, "Soon he will not object I think, but you must not act differently, that is secret surprise for him. Be patient," he warned with a finger on his lips to indicate silence and saw Billy nod from the corner of his eye.
Harry Smith sat in the stretch limo in the middle of the back seat by himself; almost, he was still accompanied by the two silent bodyguards. They sat facing each other on side seats, each close to a door. When he was allowed to leave the small lounge and the plane, the boys, his boys, were already ensconced in another car with Anton and it was pulling away. That limo was far longer than his, but he consoled himself that his was probably no less luxurious and he was alone because the client was difficult. He stretched his legs and sighed, "Someday soon I'm going to live like this, not quite on this scale, but you know, really comfortable," he told the guards.
He'd decided they were foreign, maybe mute or both early in the trip, and thought it was amusing to talk to them. He admired them both openly, they were both young, mid twenties, no more, lean and hard bodied. Their movements, when they moved were graceful, catlike. He liked the one with gray eyes the best and told him at length and in great detail what would happen to him if he were younger like the boys, orphans, or throwaways, runaways, the products of broken homes and they entered the state system that protected such beautiful youths, unique among so many thousands and those in just one state.
Smith told them that eventually the computerized master file for every child in the system crossed the desk of a midlevel bureaucrat. There was a simple process of elimination, the candidate must be male, a given, be within a narrow age range when the youth was just entering puberty, and he must be physically attractive. Then there was the rapid review of the tests, lots of tests. A psychologist analyzed the results. Somewhere there was a notation that the individual had probable or definite homosexual tendencies or was already rebelliously self-declared. The magic word probable was enough if he possessed the desired physical qualities. The name and number was sent to Smith electronically. He bragged of his excellent taste, his good eye for picking them and the very few he chose were reported as difficult or incorrigible. These were transferred to Smith's facility and promptly forgotten. His source of supply exceeded his needs because his client list was limited to the few men who could afford to indulge their fantasies with such delectably fresh sweet meat.
Since the two young guards didn't understand him and ignored him with their eyes on each other mostly and had only occasional smiles, but again only for each other, he'd started calling them Blue and Gray for their eye colors. Smith looked out the window when they were stopped at a gate. He could see warehouses and the upper decks and superstructures of cruise ships in the distance. "We're almost to the yacht I guess." He looked at Blue's profile, "You know Blue you resemble my stepson, when he's your age. He was eleven when I last saw him and there was no finer or sweeter meat. I was planning to add him to my little stable, but then I reconsidered since of course he knew who I was." He giggled, "The little shit would have been so doped up all the time and he would have been crying for his mommy. I married her just to get my hands on him. After he ran away, I thought I made a big mistake, but she makes for great cover. I'm almost as free now as I was before I met her and since her brat ran away, I hardly ever see her."
The car stopped again behind the one containing his property. Mr. Smith watched them exit the rear door then line up to stare up at the side of a small cruise ship. Billy helped Anton climb out laboriously. Mr. Smith frowned when he saw Billy talking and smiling, even to the two older meaner looking guards. Anton said something and pointed to the steps up to the open first deck of the small ship. The boys, his boys looked surprised before Anton pointed again with his cane and nodded. They walked two steps before they started to run, to race each other up. A very handsome young uniformed officer greeted them at the entryway, he laughed out loud and pointed to an open doorway. Blue opened the car door and motioned Smith out. Smith could hear Gregor, the officer, "Fuck yes! Food, much food there! Welcome to Sea Song! Fuck yes, welcome!"
Smith saw Anton laughing and shaking his head in dismay at Gregor's choice of words. He waved before he walked to a boarding ramp nearly level with the dock that led into the bowels of the ship through an open steel hatch without a backward glance. Gray and Blue nudged Smith to the stairway together with knuckles in his fleshy back. "Goddamn! What a yacht!" He mumbled.
"Yes it rather is, isn't it?" Gray agreed with very upper class Oxford English accent.
Blue nodded, "I say, shall we? We shouldn't keep the Master and his young guests waiting." He nodded after receiving a message, "You'll want to rest after your journey. Your stateroom is ready."
Smith found himself trotting to catch up to them when they walked away. "You, you both speak English? Sonofabitch!"
Blue froze at the comment, he turned to frown down on Smith, "Actually my mother served as a lady in waiting to Her Majesty, I assure you she isn't a bitch. Surely you misspoke?" He voice was low and ominous.
Gray smiled, "My mother serves Sir Rodney's as her personal maid, and while of humble rank we are, I don't think we would appreciate that particular accolade either. Now please Sir Rodney, don't cause a scene here in public." Gray looked down and stamped his foot, "This dock is concrete and bloodstains are so difficult to remove, it penetrates so quickly don't you know."
Blue, or suddenly a talkative Sir Rodney sighed, "Quite right Jonathon, you my man are so level headed, yet another reason I love you, but I do think an abject apology is in order though don't you?"
Both looked at Smith like the bug about to be squashed. Smith panted for breath by the time he reached the Sea Song's deck and Gregor resplendently attired in a captain's summer uniform, a surprise gift from Anton along with the title of acting Capitan whenever he was on board with the real Captain's and other officers' enthusiastic approval. Gregor greeted Rodney and Jonathon like friends that they were becoming after spending a quiet two weeks at Trenton Hall with almost nothing to do except accompany Evan wherever he went. Since Evan developed an intense interest in diving and only slightly less in mastering the Hummer and the permanent security measures were nothing less than remarkable, they were content to laze in the sun by the pool and watch the boys, including Buck and Doug, dive and swim. The only real excitement they enjoyed was to hold on for their lives in the big yellow truck while the boys drove the growing system of trails Bucky Trenton was happily cutting through the extensive estate with his monstrous Caterpillar front end loader that had been repainted from traditional sickening yellow to wintergreen with gold pin striping.
Gregor shook their hands and welcomed them in Russian they replied in that language while Smith waited behind them alone and ignored. Gregor signaled a waiting steward while he spoke to Rodney and Jonathon so the steward understood. "His stateroom is next to the Master's," he giggled, "the one with the most cameras. The bar is stocked with a bottle of fifty-year-old scotch. He's a heavy drinker; he'll find it. He'll be mellow by dinner. We cast off in five minutes and once we're clear you guys can relax, he has the run of the ship. Before you leave him though, impress on him that he's to have no contact with the boys, he'll see them wandering around, but he's not to talk to any of them. Tell him he's on vacation."
"Where's our charge?" Rodney asked.
Gregor grinned and looked up at a video camera trained on them, "If I know him he's sitting at the Master's console watching us and bitching because there's no audio out here. He'll appear in the dining salon when we sit down. He's going to ignore this scum all through dinner, or to put it another way spoil this asshole's last meal. Come on up to the fly bridge to get the best view, then after we get outside and we get him up to forty knots you can take a turn at the wheel. I've been driving him a couple of years and I still get a hardon every time!"
Jonathon laughed, "I say, I'll look forward to that development! What a pity you're in uniform."
Gregor shook his head, "After we get to sea dress is optional, you'll see more willing skin than you can handle." Gregor looked over the side; dockworkers waited by bollards, the gangway had been withdrawn into the ship and the boarding steps rolled back. Sea Song waited for the Captain's order to cast off and get underway. "OOPS!" he switched to English and imitated Anton, "Dockhands cost money! Gregor wastes time! AM I MADE OF MONEY? Later!" He called already running for the bridge.
Evan waited just inside the door to Anton's suite. He recognized Billy the moment he climbed from the car. He almost ran out to the deck, but he promised he wouldn't. He'd already realized that his stepfather fucked them both somehow by getting Billy to write a suicide note then probably kidnapping Billy into his home for boys and kept him there by giving him more drugs, or withholding them if Billy failed to cooperate. He saw Billy actually holding his grandfather's arm until they disappeared into the side. He couldn't switch cameras fast enough to keep track of their progress but knew Anton would use the elevator to get to his suite and Billy would be with him. He glanced at the screen. His new bodyguards Jon and Rod were still chatting with Gregor and his fuck face stepfather was looking on mutely since he couldn't understand a word they said. Evan switched views, the camera over the door looked at an empty hall briefly. Suddenly Anton and Billy were in the hall. Billy had grown six inches, he looked older because he was, he was eighteen, that and he showed his concern for Anton openly. Anton was sick, he'd spent most of the two weeks they spent at Trenton Hall in bed resting. He finally told Evan that it was a sickness that wasn't going away.
A specialist, an oncologist and a team of nurses arrived from Europe. They flew down with Evan and Gregor. Anton's bedroom on board had been turned into a hospital room. Life support equipment surrounded the bed. The huge bed remained. Anton refused to yield it to a functional and practical hospital bed because he told Evan when they were alone, to do so would be to admit that the cancer had defeated him while he still lived. He made Evan promise that he be allowed to die in one of his own beds. Those antiques were the beds of kings and dukes, the beds where they died unless they chose a battlefield and Anton wished to do as well since there were few battles to be fought in fields, his last stand would be in a bed or in a place and a time of his own choosing, while he could still make the decision.
Billy and Anton were almost at the door. Evan couldn't wait any longer. He pulled open one door already running at them. Anton saw him and smiled. Billy was looking up at Anton's face; he had a second to wonder at the reason for the change in countenance. He was hit in the chest with a smaller body and carried back to the deck with Evan sitting on top of him giggling manically before he was kissed and kissed until the total surprise and disbelief departed in favor of overwhelming joy at being reunited with his lover.
"Evan? Where, I mean how? Grandson?" Billy asked.
"Ouch!" Evan complained after Anton whacked him on the head with his cane. "Grandfather! Lay off! This is Billy! The one I told you about."
Anton frowned down on him, "You are disobedient boy! I am only sick, not incompetent. Get up from there. Get inside; you risk spoiling big surprise with impatience. GO! HURRY!" Anton raised his stick again, "More lumps are needed yes?" Evan got to his feet and out of range. Billy stood up and took Anton's arm a second time. Smith heard a door slam when Evan pulled it closed, as he reached the top of the stairs. The steward opened the door directly behind where the boys lay moments before. Smith wouldn't have noticed them if they were still there, he rushed into his room, slammed the door in the steward's face and locked it. The image of the two older bodyguards leaning against the adjacent doors, grinning, leering and making suggestive finger movements was burned into his mind. He shuddered, he was a top, and the master of boys and his lily-white butt was virgin. He thought desperately for a way to keep it that way for a whole week. He really looked at his surroundings after two stiff drinks and his fear subsided.
The bathroom was completely stocked with every imaginable toiletry for men and women. Everything was new unopened, in their original packaging, not surprising really because he was in a guestroom on the largest yacht he'd ever seen or even heard of existing. He opened each drawer in a chest; all were empty until the last, the one on the bottom. It was filled with neatly folded women's lingerie. He assumed a previous guest left them by mistake and frowned when he thought of the slovenly housekeeper who failed to find them. He imagined that if he were the owner he'd kick ass and take names or fuck it first if the crewman responsible was young enough. He held up a pair of panties and frowned again, the guest was certainly a fat bitch; the lingerie would fit him. He grinned and knelt to paw through the assortment and actually giggled out loud after opening a feminine travel case hidden underneath, the case was filled with cosmetics; everything appeared to be brand new. He assumed the woman kept spares in case of need since there was nowhere to shop on a yacht at sea.
A steward led Smith into the dinning salon. He'd heard the soft chimes that announced dinner but didn't understand their meaning. The steward still hadn't been able to wipe the smile from his face from the moment Smith opened the door. The smile started as open laughter, Smith was wearing makeup, so poorly applied he resembled a clown. His fleshy lips were twice their normal width with a garish red-purple. His cheeks were rouged circles and too much eyeliner, mascara and eyebrow pencil combined to give him a masked raccoon appearance. There were two vacant chairs each at Anton's right and left. Smith attempted to pull out a chair.
Anton, though gray with pain laughed openly and shooed him away, "Ah, we have a dragging queen among us. This is wonderful, seating arrangement provides you with admirers," he pointed to the lone empty chair at the foot of the table flanked by Hans and Herman, both wearing expressions of delight at seeing him once again. Blue and Gray sat next to them to act as interpreters. "How did you know they most like makeup? A pity too much that you failed to bring proper evening gown, but you saved it from ripping and tearing later yes?"
Smith walked as slowly as he could down the length of the long table. He noticed the boys, his boys for the first time. He ignored their stares of open contempt, he was used to those expressions. He would discipline them when they were back in the home. He stopped by a new boy, one who was smiling as if he had a secret. The boy looked down at his chest where Smith looked. There was a monogram, a dagger, Anton's crest and under that the words, Dagger Cay Marine Academy. He looked at the other boys; all wore the same shirt. Each boy puffed up his chest proudly as his eyes scanned the table. When he reached his place, Herman jumped up and happily pushed the waiting steward away from the back of his chair. Hans opened his napkin with a snap and made a show of covering Smith's lap before Herman pushed in the heavy high-backed armchair until his chest touched the thick table edge, effectively locking him in place. Hans' hand found his crotch through the napkin and clutched his limp cock possessively with a frown at Herman.
"Now, now gentlemen do not fight. This lady guest has much to offer you both, but later, you must finish dinners before that dessert," Anton called to them.
Smith looked up the table to thank Anton although his admonition only served to increase competing frowns and tighten Hans' grip when it was covered by Herman's hand. Smith's eyes widened. Meesha and Noah were greeting Anton with a kiss on each cheek. Anton laughed in mock dismay and shook his head. He spoke to them through his laughter, "I knew I should have taken gift of Lear jet back you naughty boys, you are good homing pidgins. Next time I use handcuffs." He felt each chin, "Ah you are shaved properly that is good."
Anton directed his returned pets to two of the vacant chairs across from each other. Two more boys interrupted his speech of welcome and forgiveness. One was Billy. Smith suddenly couldn't breath and the two aggressive hands vying for possession of his cock were less painful. The second boy was his stepson Evan. Evan kissed Anton's cheek while Billy shook his hand and bowed. Anton was talking to both of them and they were answering him with words and giggles, but Smith couldn't hear them. Hans and Herman had begun whispering in his ears. Anton shook his head at Billy and touched his cheek with an index finger. Billy dutifully kissed the indicated spot before he took the seat on Anton's left. Evan flopped into the right hand chair as if he always sat there. Smith heard words from Anton; "Two grandsons!" and "New grandson-in-law!" Hans and Herman's words penetrated his shock; they were in barely discernable English, "Fucking you in mouth, me, he fucks pillow pussy. We switch after spank very hard. You beg for more. All night! No all week! We hang by hands to whip." They started to argue, "No by feet! Spread fat soft legs whip crotch and tight pussy until he comes from pleasure! Every time? No! Too much, too old, every other time! Yes good!" Smith's head was spinning. The two brutes were talking to each other through his head using his ears as microphones. Evan, Billy and Anton's pets focused their attention at the head of the table. The twelve boys ignored him as well with conversations among themselves and questions directed toward the head of the table.
The first course was replaced with the second Smith's was untouched. There was one steward to serve each diner. Wines were poured into one of four glasses at each place setting; the crystal stemware was so deeply cut it looked too fragile to touch. Solid sterling flatware clinked delicate bone china. The aroma of tropical flowers emanated from the table arrangements between silver candle umbra that held a dozen tapers each, the reflected candlelight sparkled off the silver and crystal. Smith was dizzy. A pain in his upper lip forced him to focus on his dinner and tablemates. He'd been stabbed with a fork. Hans and Herman had begun to force feed him. Hans drew back the giant prawn he held then thrust it again Smith opened his mouth in time to avoid being speared by the sharp tines. The single shrimp went in and bulged his cheeks; he chewed frantically to swallow so there was room for the next fork full and the next and next. When he tried to pick up his own fork, he couldn't move his arms. He looked down to see that his wrists were held to the arms of his chair by the two hands that had recently been trying to win possession of his manhood. He managed to ask for a sip of wine. A goblet was held to his mouth and held until he emptied it all. Some dribbled down his chin to his shirt. Both guards dabbed at the stains on his open shirt with their napkins. One chased a run down the skin on his chest. Buttons parted. There were loud exclamations of delight when the black lace brassiere appeared. The laughter increased when hands discovered that the cups were actually serving their intended purpose, that of supporting his pendulous breasts. The shirt was pulled from his trousers and slipped off his shoulders. The boys were invited to look at their master and his impressive pair of titties. None was impressed, all had seen them looming over their smaller bodies.
The force-feeding continued until dessert was served, a giant whipped cream confection, something the boys would love. Smith would have eaten his as well except he was bloated from finishing his meal as well as half of each guard's and nearly anesthetized from having to drink several glasses of wine. They asked to be excused. Anton rolled his eyes and nodded. Hans and Herman almost dragged Smith between them out the aft doors. Blue and Gray followed without being asked.
"Wait!" Anton called to their backs, "Take, have your fun with him on boat deck, not to mess rooms!" He laughed. Hans and Herman knew the order was intended to further frighten Smith. It did, he paled under his running cosmetics. They waved.
"I say you aren't really intending to have your way with this sorry creature are you?" Rodney asked in German.
Herman giggled, "Certainly not, that was all bullshit to soften it up. We have six stand ins chilling out in the freezer. By now they'll do anything to stay alive and remain out where it's warm. Each one is going to fuck him while the others watch, then we'll pair them up so everyone has a turn on the bottom."
"Six? Who besides the five Meesha and Noah nabbed?"
Hans shrugged, "Some guy this thing had in government feeding boys to it. We got him a day early so he spent twenty-four hours extra in his packing crate in the hanger. He's the youngest and the best hung so we thought we'd keep him on top until he works his way though the others."
"I say! Who is he, Super Man."? Blue asked.
Hans and Herman both went into fits of laughter, Hans answered, "There's a new drug that's not on the market yet, and we got a supply for testing." He reached down to Smith's crotch. "This one got his double dose at dinner." He stood up with a grin, "Hey it works! I'll be damned."
Herman looked hopeful, "Do we have more for later? It would be a shame to waste all of it on these scumbags."
They manhandled Smith down the length of the boat deck and allowed him to fall to his knees. They left him there alone. He raised his eyes for the first time to survey his surroundings. He was fully erect strangely for some reason. There were no windows. Two long walls were lined with watercraft, the end with the door was otherwise blank and the other end was more steel. He wondered how the boats were moved to and from water, there had to be a bigger door. He pulled himself to his feet using a chair that was fixed to the deck that faced the blank wall. He studied the chair more closely through bleary eyes. The chair was one usually mounted on the decks of sport fishing boats. His fogged brain registered a rod and reel resting in a socket mounted on one arm. The rod was the heaviest he'd ever seen and the reel drum had to be twelve inches in diameter. He followed the heavy line from the reel up the pole eyelets and down to the side of the chair. The leader and rigging were stainless steel, which split at a ring into two shorter leaders. His eyes widened at the sight of two of the largest barbed fishing hooks he'd ever seen.
Smith sank to his knees and began to cry. "This engagement isn't going well," he thought. "It's a disaster," he amended in his fogged brain. "Everything is oversize, the helicopter, the jet, the yacht and now the hooks. Even the owner of these possessions, Mr. Falconburg, a man everyone calls Master." He wondered why Mr. Falconburg didn't realize his men were out of control, he was a guest yet they abused him and he had no doubt they were about to rape him, take turns on him, hurt him. "Why?" He asked himself. "I never did anything to Falconburg or any of them. I'm just a small businessman trying to earn a living by providing unique services. I'm an entrepreneur, I appeal to a niche market," he decided with a grin. "I don't hurt anyone, not really, the boys like it after they get used to it." He had a revelation; "It's all my fucking stepson Evan's fault. I should have kidnapped him for real. He would have stayed and done anything for Billy. But oh no, I was too soft, too humane. I felt sorry for his mother. I should have done it. Two years later and he's in his prime. He could have made me a fortune, but then I had Carl, beautiful Carl. Carl fucked me by overdosing and dying. I definitely won't use drugs to control them anymore."
Planning for the future was interrupted by a distant clang from the small door at the other end of the room. Smith looked up, his vision blurred. There was a parade of naked men, embarrassed men. They hugged themselves. He brightened thinking that maybe as a guest he was just in the huge storeroom to watch a show, some bizarre show, a sex show obviously, they were all erect and maybe, just maybe everything that happened to him so far was just a very bad joke. His hand fell to his own erection, he tried to rearranged it within the borrowed panties so it wouldn't show, not that it showed much. He hated all the boys for being better endowed already at their tender, beautiful ages than he was. He decided he'd get even with them when they were once again safely back home. The thought and his hand fell away as the naked parade got closer and he began to recognize them. Pleasant thoughts of discipline were replaced with total fear and the black lace bikini panties filled with shit.
Jonathon hauled Smith to his feet using his shirt collar, sniffed the air and dropped him with a complaint, "Must I handle this cretin? I believe he's shat himself."
Rodney pushed two of Smith's men forward, "They'll do it. It'll serve to warm them up, get the old blood flowing again, what?" He turned on the chosen pair, "Strip him, shit surely doesn't bother you." He told them before lapsing to German to be sure Hans understood, "Another half hour we'd have had six frozen life statues, and hypothermia is very bad for the health!"
Hans giggled at the joke. The Sea Song suddenly lost way, the turbine whine dropped and the ship slowed to four knots, just fast enough to maintain steerage and the ideal trolling speed. He punched a button after waiting to hear the following wake catch up and slap the Sea Song's ass. A new sound intruded on the relative silence, the stern door dropped slowly to horizontal. He pushed and kicked the guests of honor together in a tight knot then opened a two-inch valve while Jonathon held the business end of the wash down hose level, pointed in their direction. The force of the steam smashed them back against the biggest tender closest to the stern. He laughed, "Emergency medical treatment to the rescue! Nothing like a warm bath after a hard day in the freezer." He looked for Smith. He was in the middle of the pack. "I say chaps, would you mind giving your boss a bit of a goose to the forefront? He's the shitty one after all; rather a disgusting odor isn't it?" The men ejected Smith from hiding and then held him by his arms facing the stream. "Good lads! Now just turn him round if you will so I can clean the source." Jonathon knelt on one knee closed an eye and aimed the tight stream carefully.
Rodney thumped his friend and servant on the back and laughed, "Yet another reason I love you, so determined a housekeeper! Tisk, tisk, don't drown him with enthusiasm Jon, anymore and that tired muscle will be numb beyond feeling."
Anton entered. Herman held him up, almost carried him to a chair two crewmen delivered earlier. Evan walked with him slightly in front. Anton maintained a grip on the boy's shoulder. Anton had changed clothes; he was wearing his old robe with the belt loosely tied around his decreasing waist. He'd lost a great deal of weight in a very short time. Not eating was a cure for puking in Anton's mind. The bone handle of his knife protruded slightly from one pocket. He sat heavily and surveyed the scene before him before he pulled Evan closer, "You must think about nightmares." He warned, "Stay and they stay with you for rest of life."
"I already have them Grandfather, from before, you were right about that. One more won't matter will it?"
Anton shook his head sadly, "No, not greatly. More seems better perhaps, the faces blur, become one, one enemy, that helps."
"I'll just watch. I won't help. He just needs to know that I'm here."
Anton nodded. He looked up at Herman, "The new men? Satisfactory?" They both watched Jon working the high-pressure hose up and down Smith's crack while Rodney laughed.
Herman switched to German, "Yes Master, very much so. Both worked as interrogators as a team in Her Majesty's service, a very secret one where interrogators were free to do as they see best. Everyone these two questioned answered everything, admitted to anything they were asked, guilty or not. Confessions were always obtained, and statements were signed before the alleged guilty died." He shrugged and added, "For varying reasons; attempted escape, heart failure, sudden hemorrhages, anything. They were too efficient," he pointed, "as they are now. Excuse me Master, we need to stop this douche before he's worn through."
Anton pointed to the deck in front of where he sat. Evan leaned against him with a small arm over his suddenly bony shoulders. He nodded, "Start it here."
Smith found himself manhandled and spread eagled on the deck in front of Anton and Evan. The youngest of the conspirator's the man who worked for child welfare was made to kneel between Smith's legs. Smith's eyes were fixed on Evan. Evan stared down until Smith looked away. Anton hugged Evan closer, "Have you anything to say to him while he is conscious?" He asked kindly. Evan shook his head and remained silent. Anton nodded. Hans and Herman lifted Smith's pudgy legs and forced them back until his toes touched the deck. Jon and Rodney pushed the designated top forward until he collapsed on Smith's body.
Rodney held the man while Jon produced a small knife and flashed it in front of the man's face, "What's your name mate? It's a bother to call you mate when you most definitely aren't, what?"
"Wally, my name's Wally. Please let me go. I just forwarded names, nothing more! Please!" He begged.
Smith looked up with hatred in his eyes. "It's all your fault! You got me into this! Tell them you're the boss! Tell them I did all the work and you made all the money! I took the risk! They're going to kill me! Tell them!"
"Shut up you sniveling idiot!" Wally hissed between his teeth.
"What? What's this? Wally? Are you really the boss man of this sordid operation?" Jon asked sweetly while he spread the man's legs, knelt between them and hefted Wally's vulnerable scrotum lovingly.
"NO!" Wally screamed when he felt the point of Jon's knife. "I work for him, that's all! PLEASE don't! Not that! Oh please!"
Smith seemed beyond caring. He giggled and recited a meaningless website address. "That's his! Go look there! I bought a franchise from him! Look, you'll see!"
"I say, revelations! The plot thickens as it were. Anyone have a laptop?" Rodney asked. When Hans and Herman looked blank he repeated himself in German. Hans ran to a phone by the door. "While we wait, perhaps our Wally here would enjoy a first swive?" He nodded to Jon.
"Right you are my Lord." Wally's balls became a handle. He nodded and Smith screamed simultaneously. Rodney put his foot on Wally's ass and stepped down. Smith really screamed then. "There we are, well done! Now Wally, these are the rules of engagement; you fuck your fat friend until we tell you to stop. Please ejaculate as many times as you can. If you fake one, I shall know and you lose a nut first, then your life, but oh so very slowly that you'll rather wish you hadn't. Tell him my record if you will my Lord."
Rodney laughed, "Sixteen hours and four minutes, but toward the end a good deal of that was spent reviving the subject. It seems they become rather inured to pain, tisk, tisk, such a bother."
Wally began moving his body after Sir Rodney removed his foot. He pounded himself into Smith. Smith howled at first then moaned with each thrust. His back grated on the diamond plate decking each time it was jolted. A wide-eyed crewman appeared at the door with a laptop during Wally's second round. Hans accepted it with his body blocking the young man's view. Hans stepped back, "You want to watch?" He asked with a grin. The crewman took one fascinated look before he recognized Anton's back. He turned and ran.
Hans looked for a place to put the elegant little computer. Anton pointed to his knees with a grin, "Laptop yes?" Anton knew enough to open the lid, and then looked helpless. Evan bent to help by raising the short antenna. He entered the web and keyed the address from memory. Anton smiled at Evan proudly until he looked at the screen. He frowned at Smith," This is website for chess game. This is wrong address or Mr. Smith makes joke."
Anton's frown trigged Herman's boot to land on Smith's temple. "No, no, that's right. You have to go through five links. The odds of finding it by accident are millions to one."
Evan followed Smith's rapid gasping instructions until the face of a boy looked from the screen with dull eyes. Evan stepped back, Anton gasped. The four bodyguards, experienced in administering pain and death, left Wally and Smith to look over Anton's shoulders. Even they were shocked. Wally began to cry silently while he redoubled his efforts, as if fucking Smith harder would erase the image of a dull eyed five or six year old boy. Anton used the mouse hesitantly to click on other pages. He demonstrated his horror and disgust by slamming the screen closed and throwing the laptop hard toward the stern. It landed short of the water. Hans pushed it overboard with his foot.
Anton got to his feet. "Enough of this, we fish!" He roared. He looked at the five men huddled together on the deck near Wally's feet so they could watch and be close at hand for their turns. "This filth becomes the bait," he pointed his knife at Wally. "Smith and his assistant will be teasers and the others will serve as chum." He turned to a frightened Evan. "You will leave us now! You do not want this as a nightmare. It is enough to know what will happen. I leave to you the task to find this place, use good judgment to close and return children to families. Expose all to public after you make all involved to disappear." Evan didn't argue. He turned to leave. Anton stopped him with a gentle hand on his shoulder. Anton had tears in his eyes, "Know this little grandson, I love you very much." He bent and kissed Evan on the cheek
Evan hugged Anton and returned the kiss, "I love you too Grandfather, I'll think of you every day and always try to do things the way you would have." He wanted to say more but tears formed, he'd promised that he wouldn't, but knew he would. He ran for the door before Anton noticed. Anton noticed and sighed, he watched the door until he saw the dogs turn to secure it with finality.
The dejected men didn't understand Anton's orders, but they understood what he said to Evan. They understood when Rodney chopped Wally on the back of the neck with the side of his hand, then pulled him roughly aside to lay inert on the deck while he helped Jon lift Smith to his feet. Smith didn't, he was almost thankful and walked with them on unsteady but willing legs to the stern platform. His administrator appeared at his side carried by Hans and Herman. Herman held him upright, Hans bent down at his back. The man screamed and continued to scream as Herman lowered him to the deck. Smith looked puzzled at seeing blood on the man's lower legs until he felt an extraordinary pain behind one knee, then quickly the other. His legs no longer supported him. He fell hard to wreathe in agony at being hamstrung. Ropes with slipknots went over their heads and tightened around their necks. Then strangely, they were abandoned, left where they fell to bleed. The blood ran aft a few feet and first dripped then trickled into the Sea Song's wake.
The scene became surrealistic to Smith. He lay on his side and watched the guards return each dragging a semiconscious naked man. They were dropped to the deck and rolled to their backs if they didn't fall correctly. The screaming stopped, that was a blessing. Smith heard the low whine of the turbines combined with the rush of water as it was expelled from the jets under where they all lay together. The guards' had knives in their hands; they flashed down then slowly up his orderlies' bodies from the groin the ribcage. Those men screamed then in unison, but badly off key as they lifted their heads to look down their respective bodies to see their guts billow up and out. Smith thought that was interesting; guts were under pressure inside ones body. His men were left to attempt to restore their digestive tracts to their body cavities. He smiled on seeing their lack of success.
Wally had been restored and was being dragged forward to in front of the fighting chair. Anton's shadow crossed Smith's face. "Watch closely," Anton advised him, "He replaces you as bait. I thought you were the one. I attributed your success to most incredible luck overcoming stupidity and incompetence." He shrugged, "A correctable mistake as you see." Anton moved out of Smith's view, closer to the edge of the platform.
Smith watched Wally being pulled by his arms so they were stretched out straight from his shoulders. Blue, no Jonathon, was behind him. Wally twisted about trying to see what he was doing. He became the champion screamer when he saw the hooks. Jon offered one to Sir Rodney with a bow. Wally screamed his way into a feint when the two men yanked both barbs upward into his armpits simultaneously after a loud laughing count from one to three. Smith smiled again when an additional jerk by Sir Rodney revived Wally enough to moan and cry and Smith noted happily, shit himself.
Hans and Herman allowed him the freedom of the deck within the limits of his tether. They walked, almost strolled to the orderlies. Those knives appeared once again and each man was handed his erection, which shrank before their eyes as the blood escaped the cut end. All four splashed into the water at one time. Then it was Smith's turn to join them. The water was refreshing at first he bobbed and drifted back. The rope tightened on his neck and suddenly his body was spinning and planning along behind the magnificent yacht. He took a deep breath of water and relaxed.
Wally awaited his turned curled in a fetal ball. Hans and Herman both quickly and strangely abdicated the privilege of sitting in the chair and fighting the shark they knew would came. Jon yielded to Rodney finally in haste before the teasers were taken. He helped reposition the heavy pole in the seat socket while Hans and Herman carried poor Wally to the stern and tossed him. Rodney allowed two hundred yards of line to pay out before he clicked the drag on and opened it enough so a fish could run after taking the bait.
Hans and Herman joined Anton at the edge of the platform. They had no further interest in fishing. Both pairs of eyes streamed unashamed tears. Anton smiled at them. "Grown men do not cry," he chided them gently. "Evan will give you letters, there are accounts for you both and your favorite castle. Mine as well. It pleases me that you will live there. Retire as soon as you are satisfied that Evan will live safe and happy, but I beg you to be watchful, should evil befall him act swiftly to correct the problem," he giggled, "and before the problem dies let him know that you act on my behalf." He opened his robe and offered the butt of his knife to them. Both hesitated before he frowned at them. "The heart and lungs please I've no wish to die of drowning or be eaten alive." Both took the proffered knife. "Return it to Evan, clean this time." Hans and Herman grinned at the tired joke. Anton's eyes widened in surprise, He looked down at the hilt in their joined hands, smiled his thanks and slumped into their arms. Together, they lowered him into the dark water punctuated with bursts of phosphorescence.