Bookends

He was on his third cigarette when it did.

"Okay, let's rock and roll," Ted said. "Are we clear on what to do?"

"Barry nodded.

As the hearse left Travisville behind Barry hung back while Ted passed it, keeping the hearse between them. When they drew near the track, Ted slammed on his brakes causing the hearse to slam on its brakes. As it did so, Ted backed up against it while Barry pulled up to the rear so that it was trapped between them. Ted got out brandishing his .45 and motioned for Fetcher to raise his hands. Barry lifted the hatch and climbed in next to Megan who lay cuffed with a ball gag in her mouth.

"You're safe now," he said. "And we're gonna find Anne."

Megan buried her face in his lap and began sobbing from all the buried trauma. He knew he should be feeling greater compassion, but her warm, firm body pressed against him aroused less than noble impulses.

Barry yelled at Fetcher "Give me the key, cocksucker!"

Fetcher tossed it back. Barry unlocked the cuffs, and Megan put her arms around him, shuddering as she sobbed.

"Keep your gun on him," Ted said. "If he drops his hands kill him.

As much as Barry hated the trafficker he'd never killed anyone and didn't know if he could--not that they could kill him since they needed him, but he held his revolver on the man as if he knew what to do while Ted parked their cars off the highway. When he was through he got in the hearse next to Fetcher.

"Okay," he said, nudging the .45 in Fetcher's ribs, "drive. And when the plane arrives, you're gonna greet it as you always do, and if you do anything to fuck things up, I'll empty this .45 in your guts. Understand?"

Fetcher nodded, a sick-as-shit look on his thin face. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel as he turned the hearse onto the track.

"Now tell us how this deal's gonna go down. And don't leave anything out you son of a bitch."

Fetcher swallowed hard. A man out of his depths when the tables are turned. "A plane lands. There's two guys piloting. I hand over the merchandise. They pay me."

"Where do they take them?"

"Hell, I don't know. I don't ask. Ain't healthy. But it's a twin engine. So you can figure a fifteen hundred mile radius unless they've got special tanks."

"Which direction do they come from and leave?"

"East."

"Okay. I'm gonna be sittin' right here. Anything goes wrong you'll be the first to get it. If everything goes well nothing will happen to you. You keep the money and go on your merry way."

Fetcher glanced at the gun. "You're not gonna kill me?"

"We're not interested in you. We just want to find this woman's sister."

Fetcher looked relieved. "I'll do what you want."

"How you gonna explain me?"

"I'll tell'em you're my cousin, if they ask. I sometimes bring along help."

About ten minutes later they arrived at the landing site. Twenty minutes later a silver dot appeared on the horizon and slowly grew in size until the outline of a plane was recognizable. Fetcher got out and waited in front of the hearse. Ted scrolled the window down, lit a cigarette and tried to appear relaxed, the .45 in his lap.

"Think we can trust him?" Barry asked, crouched behind the front seat holding Megan.

"Yeah, he doesn't want to die."

The buzz of the plane grew louder then there was the sound of wheels skittering across packed earth, a loud reverberation, dust clouds, then the whirring of props winding down. When all was quiet, save for the ticking of heated metal, two men climbed out from a door over the wing, jumped to the ground and began taking a piss. They spoke to Fetcher, one of them laughing as he stuffed his cock back in his pants.

Fetcher nodded toward the hearse, and, as they started toward it, Ted got out hoisting the .45; Barry and Megan followed.

The pilots raised their hands and Ted nodded toward the ground. When they were prone, he told Barry and Megan to get in the plane. Then the two pilots.

"Keep your gun on them, Barry. Search the plane; make sure there's no weapons about. Kill'em if they try anything." Ted didn't think Barry had it in him to kill anyone, but the pilots didn't know that. When all four were on board, Ted walked Fetcher back to the rear of the hearse and lifted the hatch.

"You said you'd give me the money," Fetcher said, greedily eying the thick manilla envelope in Ted's hand.

"And I'm a man of my word, but first I'm gonna tie you up. You'll be able to get loose in time. I'll leave the money with you. Now turn around."

When Fetcher had, Ted put his gun in his waistband and pulled a switchblade from his pocket, grabbed Fetcher by the hair, jerked his head back, slit his throat and shoved him into the hearse. He wiped the blade clean on Fetcher's pant leg, shoved it into his pocket, took the .45 out from his waistband and stuffed the envelope in in its place hid beneath his t-shirt. Wouldn't do to have the pilots thinking they might be doomed, too.

He seated himself directly behind the pilots with Barry and Megan behind him. She had her head on Barry's shoulder. He had his arm around her. Ted shook his head. Whatever had been done to her, she would never be the same again. He'd seen plenty of guys in Nam crack up over what they'd been ordered to do to innocent men, women and children who were only guilty of guarding their homes from American GIs sent to kill them in a political and senseless war. He was one of the lucky ones. Killing didn't affect him as it did others. It was something in his nature to do. He had been a killing machine. He took no pleasure in it—or regrets. It was what circumstances required. He came back home from the war clearheaded. Got on the police force and fitted right in making extra income off prostitutes and drug dealers. In the war he had fought for a corrupt government. Back home it was the same thing. The fish rots from the head down, and a man's a fool if he doesn't realize that.

"Okay," Ted said, as the plane leveled off skimming high over the oven-baked desert with a brilliant blue sky clear of clouds. "Tell me where we're headed and what awaits us."

The man acting as co-pilot turned in his seat.

"Are you going to kill us?"

"Hell, no—not unless you force me to. Do what you're told, and you'll be alright."

"We're going to land at a deserted strip outside Newark. A car, with a couple of men, will be there to take the woman."

"Where will they take her?"

"Don't know. That's as far as we're in on it. I remember hearing mention of someone called Moon Yui, but that's it."

Ted leaned back in his seat. It would be evening by the time they reached their destination.

The skies were blackened with storm clouds as the Cessna glided down to a rain-slick landing strip on the edge of a forest. Through the downpour, the plane bucked to a stop with reversed engines. Ted followed the pilots out.

He turned to Barry. "Wait here."

He marched the pilots into the shelter of the woods. Fired two shots and came back to the plane.

After an hour or so, headlights appeared rounding the edge of the forest. A black mini van stopped next to the plane. Ted got out and climbed in at the side door.

"Wadayuh got?" the driver asked.

"A blonde," Ted replied.

"That all?" he said, with a disgruntled tone.

"She's primo."

"We had one through here who was."

"This one's her twin sister."

The two men chuckled.

"Then she's primo alright," the driver said. "We had some of that."

A sudden burst of rain hammered the roof of the van drowning out conversation. When it let up somewhat, the man next to the driver got out and opened the hatch. Light flooded the interior.

"Bring her out," the driver said.

Ted slid the door back and motioned for Barry, watching from a port, to bring her out.

They stood her under the hatch which acted as a porch roof keeping the rain off.

"Oh, that is nice," he said, squeezing her tits through the summery blouse. He stuck his hand under the mini skirt and fondled the cunt. "Yeah, that's some good stuff," he said, sniffing his fingers.

"What are you doing?" Barry blurted out without thinking.

"I'm gonna fuck her. What the hell you think?"

"Barry," Megan cried out, a look of terror on her face.

"What's this Barry shit?" the man said, giving him a strange look. "Why's she calling you for help?"

The other man drew an automatic. "Thought there was something wrong with you fuckers. What the hell did you do with the regular pilots?"

"Doesn't matter," the first man said. "We'll take care of them after we fuck the woman. You two fuckers can watch."

He reached out and ripped open Megan's blouse then gave a brutal tug on the shirt popping the button and zipper. She stood naked in the glow of the van's light.

"Search 'em, Carl. Make sure they don't have any weapons."

He pushed her down on her back, her legs hanging over the bumper. He pulled her ass to the edge, spread her legs and unzipped his fly; a long thick cock flopped out. He rubbed the head against her cunt.

"Tell me who the two fuckers are, honey, and I won't hurt you."

Megan raised her head and saw the other man bent over Barry tying his hands behind his back as he lay face down on the ground. Rain beating on the roof drowned out sound.

She shook her head.

"Doesn't matter. They're dead men whoever they are. And if you weren't worth a bundle I'd slit your fucking throat...but I will make you squeal like a pig."

Barry watched his sister-in-law take the huge cock. Revulsion washed over him. He pulled at the shoestring wrapped tightly around his wrist. His hands were quickly becoming numb. He gave it up as sharp stabs of pain shot up his arms. He turned his face to the wet grass. The rain was coming down so thick it was like being water boarded. He glanced to his side, blinking his eyes. Ted was lying face down and motionless. Was he dead? Barry groaned inwardly. All this effort to rescue Anne, and all he'd accomplished was to get himself and Ted killed and Megan raped and enslaved along with his wife. He watched Carl fuck Megan unable to turn his face away. It was as if he were watching Anne being raped. And no doubt she had been and would continue to be now that there was no hope.

The other man got between Megan's legs when Carl was through. He pumped so hard her breasts shook like jello. He came quickly, crying out in a ragged hiss of Shibboleths between clenched teeth

Carl motioned for Barry.

"Get between her legs. We're gonna let you have sloppy thirds before we kill you."

He unzipped Barry's jeans and fished out his cock.

"Not hard? Hmp." He took Megan's hand and placed it around Barry's cock. "Make him hard, bitch."

Megan milked his cock, her eyes fixed on his with an inscrutable expression.

"Put your mouth around it, bitch."

His sister-in-law did as she was told. Barry became instantly aroused as her warm, moist mouth locked around his organ, the tongue moving sensuously, firing little darts of pleasure into his backbone.

Had he always wanted this?

"Okay, enough, bitch."

Carl poked his gun in Barry's side. "Fuck her."

"Give him a good 'n, honey, cause it's gonna be his last."

Then Ted took his turn.

"Take 'em up in the woods and shoot their asses, Nick."

They walked over soggy ground in the beam of a flashlight, Nick following. Rain dripped from the tree leaves, swishing in the heavy wind. The light flickered. When it came back on, Ted's foot was in his throat.

Carl was fucking her again. He didn't notice them at first. When he did, his cock slipped from her spewing strings of come over her belly. Ted tied them up while Barry gave Megan Carl's t-shirt to wear.

He put her in the van then went into the plane where Ted was questioning the two traffickers.

"So...where were you going to take her?"

Carl gave him a look of disdain. "Fuck you."

"Listen, asshole, we're not interested in you. We just want to find the wife of my friend here. You tell us what you know we won't harm you."

"Yeah, you think we're fucking stupid?"

"Let me put it to you this way. If you don't cooperate I'll blow your kneecaps off and work my way up."

"Fuck you."

Ted looked at Nick. "How bout you?"

Nick looked at Carl, his face strained with fear.

"We gotta tell 'em, Carl. I'm not gonna die for nothing."

Carl shook his head in disgust then sighed with resignation. "There's a deserted factory a few miles out of Newark where the cunts are auctioned off.

Ted nodded and tore off two sheets of paper from a log book and gave one to each man with a pen.

"Draw directions—and they'd better match."

When they were finished, Carl looked at Ted.

"What happens now?"

"You know."

"Yeah, I figured."

Nick cried out. "I don't wanna die, please."

Carl gave him a look of contempt. "Shut up, asshole. Act like you've got a pair."

The factory was located in an isolated rural area. Night was on them as they came up a dirt road to a gate in a chain-link fence with razor wire on top. Two men stepped out of a guard hut with machine pistols. Behind them the factory looked bleak. Its three stories of opaque windows were unlit. Parked near a loading dock were several dozen high-end cars of a very wealthy clientele.

Ted scrolled down the window. One of the guards approached while the other one stood at the ready with the deadly end of the machine pistol pointed at them.

The man leaned forward and looked in the window first at Ted then at Barry and Megan sitting in the seat behind.

"What's the password?"

There was a long pause as Ted stared at the machine pistol. His .45 was stuck in his waistband. He would be dead before he could reach it. Password? What goddamn password? Carl and Nick must be laughing in hell. Then he remembered something. It was a long shot but--

"Moon Yui."

The man nodded then waved at the other man who opened the gate.

"That was fucking close," Barry said, as they drove in toward the dock.

A man met them at the dock and took them to a side door and down a series of rusted steel steps, then down a concrete hall and into a windowless room lit by a single fluorescent fixture. Twenty or thirty naked women sat in metal chairs against the wall. They were listless and unfocused as if drugged. A few minutes later a Chinese woman, heavily made up, in a black mini dress with Mandarin collar, came in. A severe looking man in a gray suit followed her.

He looked at Megan and nodded to the woman then at Ted and Barry. "Follow me."

Barry glanced at Megan, but she was still in shock. He doubted she knew where she was. He wanted to pull his gun and put an end to all this shit, but he knew that would be futile. The man led them farther down the hall and up a series of concrete steps and into a well appointed room with a broad window that looked out on a room with a raised platform lit with a spotlight. Dozens of men and women sat in padded chairs observing a naked girl being auctioned off.

"One way mirror," the severe man said. He touched a button on a display board sitting on a desk, and the sound of the auction was muted.

"There's no need to auction your merchandise. I have a special client who's partial to blondes with blue eyes. He bought a package like her recently. You're to take her to Harrar's at Atlantic City. He scribbled on a notepad and handed Ted a slip. "That's the code number to punch in the private elevator. It will take you to the representative of my client. You'll be paid by him."

As the elevator rose slowly up the bejeweled side of Harrar's, the slums and the red light district, just a few blocks from the boardwalk, could be seen--a gray area of sagging tenements and crumbling infrastructures of the crime ridden and dispossessed.

They were greeted at the top by a dark suave-looking man in blue silk pajamas who ushered them into a large suite of expensively furnished rooms.

"She quite lovely," he said, running a hand through her blonde hair with the casualness of a pet owner. "Drugged?"

"Shock, you son of a bitch. She's the twin of another woman who was brought here a few days ago," Ted said, drawing his .45.

The man dropped his hand slowly, turned to a baby grand piano and took a mauve cigarette from a gold case and lit it. "Yes, I suppose...so?"

"Where was she taken?" Barry demanded.

The man drew on the cigarette then exhaled with a bored nonchalance. "To an island in the Caribbean."

"What island?" Ted said.

"One that belongs to Prince Bandahar, a wealthy Saudi. It lies a few hundred miles below Jamaica. It's his own private sanctuary. There have been several attempts on his life recently. He buys dozen of women every year. I've heard when he grows tired of them, he turns them loose in a forest and for sport hunts them down with a crossbow."

"How was she taken to the island?"

"As always, two Saudis come here and take the women and fly them to the island. If you're thinking of rescuing the woman, I wouldn't."

"And just why the hell not," Ted asked, gruffly.

"The prince is a powerful man with friends in high places. He is well guarded, and even if you could get to him or the woman and rescue her your own government would track you down and kill you."

"Bull shit!"

"Really? Whom do you think your president works for and your congress and your CIA?" He laughed cynically. "The oil companies--the banks. You can't defeat the rich and powerful. They're like the hydra. Chop off one head and another two spring up."

"Yeah, yeah. When will the Saudis show up?" Ted asked.

"As soon as I call them. Half a day."

"No need to call 'em," Ted said. He shoved the barrel of his gun in the man's mouth and pulled the trigger.

Chapter 4

Captain John shut the engine off and tossed out Sweet Susie's anchor.

"That's the island," he said, nodding toward a thin fringe of green on the horizon. He spit a brown stream of tobacco into the water lapping at the white hull. He handed a pair of binoculars to Ted. The fringe became palm trees and a sandy beach with naked women lying about guarded by men with machine guns. Beyond the beach was a storied palace of white towers and gleaming windows from terraced patios. And farther back, rising up from a dense jungle, was a verdant cliff with rock outcroppings. He handed the binoculars to Barry.

"We could hide out on the cliff, observe the goings on and work out some kind of plan."

Barry nodded.

They filled a dinghy with supplies, rowed to the island as night fell and found an alcove sheltered from view then waited until the dawn. In the morning, rain fell as they made their way through the forest and up a gradual slope until they arrived at at shelf of rock that gave them a clear view of the palace and the beach. In the afternoon the rain slacked off and naked women, accompanied by guards, filed out to frolic in the water or lie down to sun.

Barry watched through the binoculars anxious to catch some sight of Anne, but it wasn't until the third day that his vigilance was rewarded. She was led out separately from the other women to a private section of the beach where two guards hovered around her. A few minutes later an Arab in a white robe joined her. She smiled as he dropped the robe and jumped up to eagerly embrace him. Naked they rolled onto a carpet where the Arab positioned himself between her legs and shoved his cock in her.

Rain plopped heavily on the tarp they'd fixed over their heads. They smoked and drank raw coffee. "We may be here for months before anything happens," Barry said.

"Then that's how long we'll fuckin' stay," Ted answered.

"What's the point? Seems like she's enjoying herself."

"What'd you expect? She knows she'll only live as long as she keeps the fucker interested."

"Well, she's doing a hell of a good job of it."

"What? You wanna fucking go?"

There was a long pause. He sighed, shook his head. "Nah, you're right. In for a penny in for a pound."