Change

"That sounds about right for a college student," Rockie said. "So, you have no restrictions on accessing the money in the trusts other than your current age?"

"Nope. As the trustee, I can take money out as easily as I can from my bank account."

"What are some of the other benefits of a trust?"

"A trust can be used to protect assets from creditors, for estate planning as you mentioned, for subterfuge as I mentioned, and to some degree for tax benefits. It really depends on the intention of the trust when it gets established. Oh, and also the state in which the trust is based. Texas doesn't tax any of the assets in my trusts until they are distributed, which is nice, but there are other terms that they put on trusts that might not be to your liking."

"I thought a trust had to be established in a person's state of residency?"

"No, typically, the only residency rules would apply to the trustee named in the trust, but there are ways to get around that too. Anyway, my dad's lawyers will be able to answer all your questions and help you set up a trust when you're ready."

"Okay, one more question," Rockie said as she raised herself to stand, "is it all right if I start moving my things over in the morning?"

JR saw streaks of wetness beginning to run down the insides of Rockie's thighs as he stood and folded her into his arms. He released her only long enough to pick her up.

Cradling her, he said, "Let's rinse off and get dressed. We can take a load of your stuff over tonight and get the rest tomorrow. I'll have some charity come and pick up all the furniture by the weekend."

"Even the futon?" Rockie teased. "I have a new-found appreciation for that ratty old thing."

JR laughed, "Get over it. We'll work on making you appreciate every piece of furniture in our home."

Rockie nuzzled her nose against his neck as they reached the master bathroom, "Promise?"

~~~

JR's parents were sitting at the dining room table when JR and Rockie carried their armfuls of clothes into the condo. Bobby's cell phone was laying on the table and was on speaker mode, so they knew that a conversation was taking place between them and whoever was on the other end.

Bobby silently motioned for his son and his girlfriend to join them. Depositing their loads onto the couch, JR and Rockie took seats across from his parents.

"Kirby, give me a second to bring some others up to date," Bobby said.

He then muted the cell phone before addressing JR and Rockie, "We're discussing what our agents discovered when they infiltrated the locations in Sevastopol that Rockie identified. Kirby Wallace is on the phone from DC, and Rick Acosta is on the ground in Ukraine. They don't know who you are, so let's keep it that way for now. If you have something to contribute to the conversation, or want to ask a question, signal me and I'll mute the phone."

JR and Rockie both nodded and watched Bobby unmute the phone once more.

"Okay Kirby, you were saying that Canadian authorities have been reporting increased tensions between different organized crime factions in their major cities for the past nine months or so, and Rick, you learned that Mikhailov reportedly died almost a year ago to this date, is that correct?"

"Both are correct," came the reply over the phone. JR recognized the voice of Kirby Wallace since he had been hearing it from his earliest childhood. Kirby had been one of the US Marshals assigned to protect him and his mom while they were in the witness protection program, and later went to work for his father.

"Rick, have you learned who replaced Mikhailov?" Bobby asked.

"Do you remember the name, Vitaly Kazan?" Acosta replied.

"Remind me."

"He was one of Mikhailov's top guys. His oldest son, Ivan appears to be in the lead currently to see who replaces Mikhailov. He is in his early twenties, but already has a reputation for brutality where any competitors are concerned. Odds are that he'll win the role through sheer intimidation combined with pure force."

"So, he's too young to remember the deterrents that forced their organization out of the U.S.," said Kirby. "Maybe he's testing the water in Canada to see how they respond before trying to move back here?"

"I don't know," said Bobby. "While the activity in Canada might be related, it doesn't explain the attempts to access databases here. Rick, did you learn anything about that?"

"We're still questioning the people we found at their computers. Most of them are computer tech types called in after everything crashed, so they may not know the purpose behind the hacking that was going on, but like I said, we're still early in the interrogations at this point."

JR made a motion with his hand that his father saw.

"Hang on a minute," Bobby said to the phone before muting it.

"Dad, this Kazan guy doesn't have to remember how they were forced out of the US, but he must know that they were. What if the database probes were an attempt to identify if the same forces that drove them out are still active? Is there anything in a database somewhere that would indicate monitoring of their activities to ensure that they remained beyond our borders?"

"The FBI and DHS servers likely have files from ongoing organized crime investigations," Bobby told his son.

"If they hadn't accessed those yet," Rockie said, "they won't be able to now. I shut them down there when I upgraded all the targeted servers to resolve the vulnerability that they had been exploiting."

Bobby nodded, and then unmuted the cell phone before continuing, "Okay, the potential new leadership of their organization may be trying to see if our memory is as short as their own. With their ability to hack into the databases where they could possibly see our continued vigilance no longer available to them, what is the risk that they might blindly try to test our resolve by committing an act to see how we respond?"

"It might have been advantageous for the attack against their computers to have pointed to the US," said Acosta. "That would have been a good sign that we're still watching them. My team showing up after the fact claiming to be Canadians also distances US involvement."

"Our options on foreign soil are far fewer than within our own borders," said Kirby.

This time, Rockie raised her hand for Bobby to mute the call. He did so.

"Computers, and the internet, in particular, are not confined by borders," Rockie said. "I disabled their computers on the one network that was attempting to penetrate databases over here, but if they have other computers on different networks, those should still be active. It would take me a few hours to identify any, but we could then target those and make it obvious that it was us doing it."

"Let's discuss that amongst ourselves," Bobby said. "If we can come up with the proper actions to send a clear message that our resolve remains, then I would need to explore how best to deliver it."

Rockie nodded and Bobby unmuted the conversation, "Rick, keep questioning the people you have and try to learn if there are other computers that the organization is using, either for similar hacking efforts, programming, websites, whatever. I want to look into whether we can use those systems as deterrents rather than further physical threats. Kirby, let's check with the NSA to see if there might be a role for them that makes the origin and content of any message delivered by the United States unmistakably from us."

Obtaining acknowledgment of his instructions from both men, Bobby terminated the call.

"Would anyone like coffee?" Rockie asked.

"No," said Patty, "but you could talk me into another Margarita. Bobby?"

"Sure, the hot tub sweated the other one out of my system, so I can handle another."

"Dad, the hot tub heater isn't turned on," JR teased.

"You sweat your way, Son and I'll sweat mine."

Patty blushed as she joined Rockie in the kitchen to fix more Margaritas for the group.

"It looks like you worked up a sweat yourself," she whispered to Rockie.

Rockie smiled and said, "Is it that obvious?"

"Only to someone who recognizes the glow that the Brandt men can put on a gal."

Rockie giggled and hugged Patty, "Are you sure that you and Bobby don't want to stay here tonight? Between the two condos, there is more than enough room."

"No, Bobby's parents are expecting us to stay with them. In fact, we're going to have to leave as soon as we finish these drinks."

Rockie handed two filled glasses to Patty and took two herself, "Okay, as long as you both know that you're always welcomed."

They returned to the table, handing a Margarita to each of the men waiting patiently there, and then kissing their respective partner.

"I was just teasing JR about younger generations ignoring the lessons of their ancestors," Bobby said.

"And I was telling my father that he gets smarter every year as I age. Soon, he'll be as smart as he thinks he is."

Patty and Rockie laughed at the father-son bantering.

"Bobby, you don't seem to think that there is a risk for any of us currently, right?" asked Rockie.

"Based on what we know right now, no I don't. I'm going to place some people and groups on a higher level of alert for the time being, which will prepare us to deliver the message when the time comes and also identify any potential threats well in advance. Our intelligence networks will be brought online with the tactical response apparatus so that there is real-time sharing of information before it is needed, that sort of thing."

"You strike me as more of a proactive rather than reactive type of person," Rockie said to Bobby.

Bobby grinned and said, "It takes one to know one. What do you have in mind?"

"Oh, I don't know," Rockie said, grinning right back at him, "How often do you think our friend Ivan and his associates pay for anything with cash?"

"Geez," said JR, "remind me never to make you mad."

~~~

"JR, do you consider us lovers, because I do?"

He brushed little curls of her hair aside and kissed the back of her neck as he whispered into her ear, "Unequivocally."

JR doubted that his parent's car had exited the parking lot before Rockie was undressing him, coaxing him to join her naked in the hot tub. The sound of the bubbles created by the water jets in the tub was soothing, and JR had felt himself beginning to doze just before Rockie had asked her question.

She was sitting between his legs, aimlessly playing with the hairs on his thighs as she ran her hands up and down them under the water. For his part, JR was savoring the feel of her warm, wet breasts as he gently caressed each; not attempting to arouse her, but simply basking in the feel of her skin under his touch. He had admired Rockie's breasts for what seemed like forever before finally touching them, and he wanted to make up for lost time.

"Good," Rockie replied. "Can I tell you something?"

"Anything."

"I don't think being lovers is going to be enough for me. I mean, it's always going to be the core of our relationship from now on; where the foundations of trust, friendship, and even our love are based, but even before we made love, I sensed that I would want more where you are concerned. Where we are concerned."

"You want other lovers?" JR asked.

Rockie tilted her head back as far as she could so that she could look into his eyes.

"Never! Earlier, when we were at the other condo, I explored something that I want to keep exploring. Sometimes, when the mood strikes one or the other of us; I'm going to use a euphemism here, I want to be your cavewoman and for you to be my caveman."

"Like role-playing?"

"No, Cutie. Let me try to explain; earlier, you let me use you for my own pleasure. No questions asked, no reservations and no expectation that you would achieve the same pleasure. You let me do whatever I wanted, and I think as a result you, in fact, did achieve the same pleasure."

"If not more," agreed JR.

"Agree to disagree," giggled Rockie. "Since there is no recognized equivalent word for men where the term 'slut' is concerned, I don't know how to classify the way that my mood at that time made me want to simply use you for my own selfish pleasure. However, I do know that I also need you to feel the same way about me sometimes. I need you to know that I am just that, JR. I will be your slut whenever the mood strikes you. I need to know that you love me enough to possess me as much as you would protect me. It won't be always, and may not even be that often, but it needs to be an option. Do you understand?"

JR pulled her tighter against his chest and said, "Sweetie, I have no qualms about exploring options with you as long as you are always as honest and open with me as you are being right now. All I ask is that you never submit to me out of a sense of duty or obligation. There can't be any 'quid pro quo' involved in our intimacies, regardless of what form they may take. Agreed?"

"Agreed. Now that that is settled, I have one other favor to ask of you." Rockie said as she started to rise out of the water.

JR began to follow her as he asked, "What?"

Handing him a towel before wrapping one around herself, Rockie said, "I won a free DVD from the collection at Rick's and I want you to help me decide which one we should select."

While drying off, JR didn't reply but simply grinned at her. "Why the 'cat who ate the canary' expression," she asked.

"Because we don't have to pick a single DVD," JR explained, taking her hand and leading her back into the condo. "I have an unlimited subscription that allows me to stream anything in the collection at Rick's."

"Young man, you get into bed right now!" Rockie said with her own grin and pointing towards the bedroom. "I'll get my laptop and meet you there."

Chapter Thirty-Two

Rockie sat with her coffee at the dining room table, reviewing the specifications for the standard Mercedes AMG GT C Roadster. She saw that the handcrafted four-liter engine was bi-turbocharged, claimed to accelerate from zero to sixty in three point six seconds, had active rear-wheel steering and dynamically enhanced handling. It looked like it would be a really fun car to drive. She would find out soon enough.

Switching to the satellite imagery being fed to her directly from the NSA, Rockie zoomed in on the stretch of road she had been told to watch. While it was still well before dawn in Southern California, the Bakhchysarais'ke Highway on the Crimean Peninsula was under clear afternoon skies.

Rated one of the ten most dangerous roads in the world, with fifty hairpin turns, the Bakhchysarais'ke Highway is often completely impassible during inclement weather, which is why she was keeping an eye on that particular stretch of the highway. That would tell her if her target had braved the road today as was his normal routine. From what she could see, the road was clear of snow for its entire seventy-seven-kilometer route between Bakhchysarais'ke and Yalta.

On the real-time satellite image, she saw the silver convertible heading southeast, passing the tourist information center just prior to where the highway began climbing through the mountain pass and approached the first of the treacherous curves. It had been estimated that she would have approximately five minutes from this point to acquire the satellite signal that would allow her to access and take control of the driver-assist features in this high-end roadster.

It had taken her less than two days to gather the access credentials and other information on Ivan Kazan, which in turn identified several other key individuals in leadership roles within the criminal organization based out of Odessa commonly referred to as the Russian Mafia.

Kirby Wallace and Rick Acosta had determined that their team already had adequate resources on the ground in Sevastopol to handle the field operations once a few key items were sent to them. Consequently, she was up early on this first Sunday in December ready to play her part.

Although she and Bobby had agreed to let the NSA take the lead in using her information to send their message related to any computer or systems penetrations, Rockie refused to trust anyone else with this particular role, and Bobby had agreed.

Looking over her shoulder towards the master bedroom, Rockie could see that JR was still sleeping. Hopefully, she would complete her part and be able to rejoin JR before he awoke.

~~~

Ivan Kazan wasn't deterred by the sub-zero windchill around him as he raced his convertible up T0117 towards his home overlooking Yalta, with the panoramic view of the Black Sea beyond. The windshield and design of the AMG GT C channeled any wind away from the driver and passenger; so much so that with the sun shining above, he kept the interior thermostat set at seventy degrees and the heater seldom came on.

His meetings this morning in Sevastopol were irregular, but not troubling to him. The fact that funds in several of their bank accounts had mysteriously been transferred to other accounts didn't concern him. No money was missing, so once Devora, Luka and Stanislav surfaced, there would likely be a simple explanation. All three missing the conference call was irregular.

The hairpin turns of the Bakhchysarais'ke Highway were what enticed Kazan to purchase this car. He doubted that there were more than two other vehicles manufactured in the world that would allow him to navigate the turns with the same degree of exhilaration. As he approached the first turn, he let the technology designed into his car do as it was intended to do, which was to assist him in maintaining control under the most difficult driving conditions.

The suspension seemed made for the gravitational forces generated by him taking these tight turns at speeds that would send most other drivers and their vehicles plummeting thousands of feet to their certain death. He smiled as he felt the car making adjustments for him; in braking, acceleration and steering.

Kazan's smile vanished as the car fought against him, forcing it to turn left at a fork in the road instead of continuing right around the next curve. The car accelerated on its own, climbing the rising incline of this side road and deftly navigating around the curves as if it could see the actual road. This road was gravel, not well maintained, had no guard rails, and kept climbing towards where Kazan knew the snow from two days prior would still be present.

Realizing that he had no effect on the control of the vehicle, he removed his hands from the steering wheel and began looking for a means to stop the car. The push-button ignition did not respond, and neither the foot or parking brakes would engage. He debated whether to release his seatbelt in case he needed to jump from the car when he saw a widening in the road at an extremely tight hairpin turn. If the car didn't slow down, even the magnificent German engineering designed into this vehicle would not prevent it from sliding in the loose gravel and over the edge on the mountain.

Almost as if the car sensed its own doom, the braking system finally engaged. The car did skid on the gravel but remained straight and true in its path towards the edge of the abyss beyond. Kazan screamed as the horizon flew towards him, certain that he was about to die. The fear generated adrenaline was coursing through his entire body when the car came to rest barely a foot from the exposed and unguarded edge.

He was so startled by his brush with imminent death, that Kazan didn't take notice of the engine shutting off or the ensuing silence for several minutes. It was another sound that brought his attention back to the present and made him start looking around.

The buzzing sound wasn't familiar to him, yet he thought that it should be. When the object appeared in front of him, he didn't immediately connect it to the sound he had heard, thinking initially that it was just a bird in flight.