Caleb 55 - Stolen Baby

Author's note

Here we are again - I've been amazed at the level of engagement from people both through the sites I post on, on my patreon and also on my discord server. Thank you all for being so vested in my story.

As Always, thanks to Dr Mark for his editing skills.

I decided to email Gulfstream to ask them what would be required for Caleb to be able to fly the G500, within 4 hours I got an email back.

Good afternoon PM,

It would require a Commercial License due to the weight and the altitude of flight. Google search "Private Pilot Limitations" and Commercial Pilot Limitations". flying Twin Engine Jets requires multiple type ratings to include Instrument Rating and Type Rating for each different model aircraft to be flown.

Regards,

[REDACTED]

System Specialist II | Tech Ops Mid Cabin Mech Systems

Gulfstream

How cool is that???

PM

Chapter 55 - Stolen Baby

22 years ago

"No," said John, "I didn't use any power on her. We met at a bar, we were both a little drunk, more than a little horny, and one thing led to another."

"And now you're having a bastard child," said Zachariah with a disapproving stare. "When is it due?"

"Sometime in February," John replied.

"Keep us updated," said Maggie.

The baby was born right on time on St Valentine's Day. That evening Maggie visited the hospital and, without anyone remembering she was there, applied the amulet to little Melanie. She could already tell that Melanie was going to be powerful, not as powerful as the baby she held a few months ago, but powerful nonetheless. It seemed that John had a strong bloodline. If he'd only settle down with the one woman and be more responsible about where he left his seed.

Maggie's visit had unforeseen circumstances though. She'd bypassed hospital security so that there was no record of her entering or leaving the building. While she was there, she amended the child's birth record to indicate the presence of the 'birthmark' on her wrist.

+++++

Connie Tyler was a desperate woman. She'd tried and tried for a child over and over, only to have miscarriage after miscarriage. Her own marriage had suffered and broken down with the stress and disappointment of repeatedly trying and failing to have a child. She'd been being treated for depression, but the tablets had made no difference. She knew that she needed a baby. . .she just had to have a baby. . .and then everything would be alright.

Getting into the hospital had been easy. It was almost a public building. She had found on her frequent previous visits to such establishments that all you needed to do was to look like you knew where you were going and that you had a right to be there. Few people questioned you.

She wore her company ID but turned it so that the card actually faced her body. People would see the lanyard and assume that she was a staff member. Thankfully, people always assumed.

Walking into the hospital, she parked the stroller she'd brought with her in a storeroom on the first floor. She'd been here before and had found that this room was often left unlocked. She took off her coat, scarf, and hat and laid them over the stroller. Underneath she wore scrubs. She'd managed to steal these on her last visit.

Although Connie was desperate, she was not stupid. She was a project manager in a tech company, and so, when it came to carrying out any job, she broke it down in to parts, allocated tasks each with their own timelines and criteria for success, and each leading toward the inevitable goal: the success of the project. This had been no different. Tonight, was the final part of this particular project: to get her a baby.

Putting on a surgical mask she walked confidently up to the maternity floor and stood near the entrance, by a window, apparently talking on her phone.

A woman in a suit exited the unit and Connie approached the door holding her ID as if she were about to use it to let herself in. The woman smiled at her and held the door. Connie nodded her thanks and went inside.

She was in. She looked into a couple of rooms which turned out to be empty. This was a part of her plan that she couldn't prepare for. People moved about in here from hour to hour. She'd have to wing it and see who she found.

The first room with a mother also had a father. Dad was cradling his baby in his arms and grinning like a lunatic. He bounced the infant gently and cooed to it.

"Sorry," said Connie as they looked up, "wrong room."

She moved on. She'd tried three more doors before she hit paydirt. A new mother, exhausted and asleep lay in the bed, beside which a was a crib holding a baby. Connie went in and looked at the baby. She was beautiful. Her eyes were closed and she twitched gently as she slept, but Connie knew that this was the one. This was her baby.

Taking a look to make sure that the mother was still asleep, she pulled a small pair of snips from her pocket and cut the RFID bracelet off the baby's tiny wrist. The bracelet would have set off an alarm if she'd tried to take the baby out of the unit with it in place. She quickly checked that there wasn't another one on the baby's ankle, but there wasn't.

She looked at the tag, which also doubled as an identity band for the baby. "Melanie," she breathed and smiled. She liked that name. Connie frowned when she noted that the tag seemed to have left a mark on the baby's wrist, but no matter that would fade.

She picked up the baby, walked through the door, and out into the corridor. Connie was thankful that the hallway was deserted.

Had it not been for the fact that Maggie had only just left, having applied the amulet to the baby, there might have been someone around to see Connie, or the security camera's might have caught her walking out with a babe in arms, something that was not permitted in the hospital. But Maggie, who had inadvertently held the door for Connie to enter the unit, had disabled all of the safeguards so her own visit would go unnoticed.

Connie took the elevator down to the first floor and slipped into the storeroom where she'd left the stroller. She gently placed the baby into the stroller, and then put on her coat, hat, and scarf. Then she left the hospital as just another mother bringing her child to be seen by one of the many doctors in the building. The security guard even held the door for her.

It was an hour later that the baby Melanie's disappearance was finally noticed. A midwife went in to do her checks and found the crib empty and the mother still asleep. The alarm went up, and the hospital was immediately sealed, but by then Connie and the child were already far away.

Connie had deliberately chosen an out of state hospital. She'd told her colleagues at work that she'd been applying for an adoption and had taken a month's leave of absence to finalize everything.

When she returned to work three weeks later, she was just another proud mother showing off her baby pictures.

"AWWWW," said her colleague. "Isn't she beautiful. What did you name her?"

"Melanie," said Connie, "and yes, she's perfect."

+++++++

Present Day.

I was starting to feel like I was on a treadmill. Every morning at four a.m. I would wake, train, study, have hypnotherapy sessions, eat, then be in bed at ten p.m., rinse, and repeat.

I sighed, looking at the dark ceiling above. "Is this it?" I thought to myself. "Is this my life - same old routine day in and day out?"

I shifted my arm slightly and suddenly had a handful of smooth warm flesh. I looked down. Ness was snuggled up to me and I was currently cupping her naked ass, the T-shirt she wore to bed having ridden up in the night. I grinned.

"Could be worse," I said to myself, before slipping out of bed and heading to the bathroom.

I couldn't really complain. My life was far from mundane. Yes, I was up early in the morning to train, but I had a goal in mind, and it wouldn't be forever, although I suspected that it would be a hard habit to break.

Marcia arrived at eight, as promised, and we all had breakfast together. I ate a lot more than I would normally, but I was preloading. I'd been promised a heavy Healing session with Vince and Jeevan this afternoon. I was hoping it didn't wipe me out too much as I had my first flying lesson that evening.

First though, I had a couple of hypnotherapy appointments. The first being a new woman. She was apparently new to the area, but worked with someone who I had treated before. She had tried to stop smoking many times in the past and been unsuccessful. Mary had put her in first. She was going to be accompanied by the colleague I had treated.

Since I was going to the range rather than to campus, I clipped on my holster, and tucked my CQB inside. Dean had suggested that I should carry at all times when not at school. His rationale had been that I was a trouble magnet and, although I could deal with just about anything with my powers, having a 'mundane' option would make life easier. He also told me to get a bigger gun safe because each of the girls, when they were old enough, would be getting their own weapons from him. He didn't want them any less protected than me. Since Ness and Jules were norms, it counted double for them.

I climbed in my truck and headed downtown to the range.

The girls for the first hypnotherapy appointment were already waiting for me in the reception area when I arrived. I recognised the girl I had treated, Maddison, as she stood and came to embrace me. Hoss cocked an eyebrow at me, and I grinned.

"Caleb," Maddison said releasing me, "this is Alina. Alina, this is Caleb, the man I told you about. He'll help you for certain."

Alina didn't look certain.

"Hi," I said offering her my hand. She shook it.

"Maddison tells me you can help me stop smoking." She had a pronounced eastern European accent.

"I can," I said, "if you want me to."

"Yes," she said. She reached into her pocked and pulled out some bills. Thrusting then toward me. "Here."

I smiled at her. "Let's go and sit down." I said opening the office door. She looked uncertain. "Maddison is going to be sitting beside you the whole time."

She looked at Maddison who smiled and nodded. They both preceded me into the office, and I indicated a chair for her to sit on.

She sat with Maddison taking the chair next to her. I sat the other side of the table and opened my laptop.

It took a few minutes for me to explain the disclaimer. She was one of the few who was very careful about what she signed. I suspected that she'd fallen foul of some bureau or other in her home country. Eventually, all done, I got her to count backward from one hundred.

The illusion for Maddison took but a moment, and then I placed all the usual anti-smoking compulsions. That done I went looking for her language memories. She had to know a different language, in fact she knew two, Russian and Romanian.

"A twofer," I thought to myself downloading the memories. They came with a lot of other stuff, and I filtered through it as I was taking it.

Alina was an illegal having arrived in the US, in a shipping container, about eight months ago. She was living in a shared house with other illegals and working three jobs to pay for her accommodation and food. One of the jobs was with Maddison.

In truth, it was Maddison who had given her the money to come to see me. She'd caught Alina scrounging butts in the alley behind the shop they both worked in as she hadn't had the money to actually buy cigarettes.

I saw there were some feelings for Maddison there, and upon checking the other girl it seemed they were reciprocated. The problem was that, as an illegal, Alina was stuck in the hostel, handing over all of her money, and forced into working. A modern day slave.

I bit my lip.

"For fuck's sake," I said out loud. This gig was pulling me into all kinds of trouble.

I considered my options. If I went to Maggie, the likelihood was that they would inform INS which would mean that the hostel would be shut down and everyone living there deported. I had seen what Alina had run from and there was no way I was letting her go back to that.

The people that ran the hostel were dangerous also. Gangsters, pulling girls into the US and into prostitution and various other crimes. It seemed that Alina had escaped that fate, for now, as she was what could charitably be described as 'plain.' There were other girls who were far prettier in the batch of people they had smuggled in and they had reached their quota. Alina, as far as they were concerned, was just someone to make them a little money on the side.

Extracting her from the hostel wouldn't be too hard. All I'd need to do would be to go there and make them forget about her. But what about all the other people there? Could I really leave them all in that place, or get them all deported back to conditions so bad that they would risk the route into the US to escape them?

Words echoed in my head, my own words, that I'd said to Dean.

"We have enough to deal with on a daily basis without taking in every stray that happens along."

I sighed. Should I just close my eyes to this girl, do what she was paying me to do, and let her go on her way?

Ness' voice filled my head.

"I'm shocked that you are even considering it. Perhaps Blaze is not the horse for you after all."

"Fuck," I said out loud.

I knew I couldn't turn my back on this girl, but neither could I rescue the entire hostel. I just wasn't sure how to help her.

I examined Maddison's mind again. She really had feelings for this young girl. I wondered if I could get her to take Alina to her place for a few days, and then get the hostel raided while she wasn't there. I rethought. That might be a bad idea. Presumably they would have records there and when they were raided those would be seized. Alina would then be hunted down and deported with the rest of the girls.

My watch beeped telling me that I had ten minutes left of this session.

I'd collected her language memories, and salted them away. In a couple of days I'd be able to speak Russian, and Romanian, like a native. I still hadn't decided what to do about Alina. "There's time," I thought. "I'll consider my options and then maybe do something next week at her session."

I finished up with them and let them go, conveniently forgetting to take payment from her. I was sure she could use the money.

My next appointment arrived. I looked him up and down, not sure if the chair I had for him would take the weight. His mother, who accompanied him, smiled at me. He looked about thirty years old, his mother in her late fifties.

After they left, I looked at my energy bar. I'd had to use a little more energy, supporting his chair to make sure it didn't collapse under him. The guy had to weigh in at over five hundred pounds, although he claimed he was just three fifty. He was going to be a long-term project, probably longer term than I was going to be around. I would have to consider how to handle him when I was close to leaving as I guesstimated it would take close to two years to safely get him down to a 'normal' weight. I had also done some work with his skin so he wouldn't be left with swathes of loose flesh.

I'd been so focused on his weight problem I hadn't had time to look to see if he had any learning I could use. I did note however that part of his weight problem was his mother's habit of feeding him every time he had any kind of issue. Something upset him - she fed him, something made him happy - celebrate with a meal, something made him sad - console him with food. I had to stop that too, otherwise there was no way he was going to lose any weight.

I looked at my watch. I had two hours before I was due at Vince's. My energy bar was ticking up quite nicely and I was certain I would be at full strength by the time I got there. I decided to go get a snack in any case, just to be sure.

I drove down the block and pulled into a diner. As often happened, there was someone sitting outside, with an empty coffee cup, begging for change.

I looked at her. She looked to be about my age, and she was somehow familiar although I couldn't place her.

My tendency was to do a quick scan on homeless people to make sure that they weren't scam artists living off people's generosity and if not I would usually help.

This girl wasn't a scam artist; I could see from her aura that she was hungry, literally starving.

"Hey," I said. She looked up at me, probably expecting me to tell her to clear off and get a job.

"Come on," I said. "Lunch is on me."

I indicated the diner.

"They won't let me in," she said.

"They will if you're with me," I said. "Come on."

She stood warily, but her hunger overruled her suspicion.

She followed me into the diner. I saw the waitress look up and a look of disgust crossed her face. She stomped towards us clearly intending to throw the girl out. I held out a hundred. "She's with me." I said. "We're going to eat, then leave. Which table can we use?"

The waitress looked me up and down, but then pocketed the hundred. "Over in the corner. Put her by the wall." She indicated a table at the far end of the diner, not easily visible to anyone walking in.

I thanked her and walked to the table, indicating for the girl to sit opposite me against the wall as requested.

After a few minutes, the waitress came over and put menus in front of us. She wrinkled her nose at the smell from the girl, who was definitely slightly ripe.

The girl fiddled with her menu but made no move to pick it up.

I looked at her.

"I'm having a bacon double cheeseburger, with fries, and a strawberry shake," I said not picking up my menu either. "How does that sound?"

"Can I have chocolate shake?" she asked.

"Sure."

I indicated to the waitress that we were ready. She came over and I gave her our order.

I sat playing with my phone, not looking at the girl, while examining her all the same. Physically she was not in great shape. She was malnourished, had a bit of a chest infection, head and body lice, and the skin in all of her 'folds' was raw and broken.

I killed off all the lice with a thought and pushed some healing into her, hopefully killing off the chest infection and giving her skin a little boost. She startled as if someone had poked her.

Then I decided to find out more about her.

Her name was Melanie. She was from out of town. Her mother had apparently committed suicide when she was very young and, with no other relatives, she'd been put into the system.

She'd bounced around from foster home to foster home until she'd got sick of it and simply walked out. She'd been living on the streets ever since, doing what she had to to survive.

Fortunately, she'd managed to avoid getting into drugs, although it seemed that she was still on a downward spiral. The men that had been interested in her when she was young and fresh were no longer wanting her now that she was older and, quite frankly, seemed worn out.

"Worn out at twenty one," I thought. "What an indictment."

She'd arrived in Portland about a month ago, had managed to get a bed in a hostel for a short while, but had been thrown out after a fight with another girl who'd tried to steal her shoes. Since then, she'd been living on the streets with nothing but the clothes on her back.

She looked up and down the diner as we waited for our food. Then she spoke quietly.

"Five dollars for a hand job," she said. "Ten, I'll blow you - swallow too. For twenty you can fuck me, condom only though. If you want my ass - its thirty."