Not Quite a White Knight Bk. 02 Pt. 07

They stole gold from Abril. They got caught. They won't die of cancer. There are reasonable and unpleasant expectations when you are caught stealing from a psycho-killer's house. While most psycho-killers don't advertise, in this case the thieves knew better.

About the Category: BDSM involves consent. Martha asked for what she got, but I don't thing that counts here. Hence it is nominated as Nonconsensual.

These section has 4 very different chapters. Some readers may wish to skip some material.

Chapter 28 is primarily plot advancement and setting the stage.

Chapter 29 involves unpleasant events. (Note: I read Orwell's "1984" in high school, but things have changed since then, and some may have an INTENSE reaction.)

Chapter 30 features many more pleasant events, most of which occur in his bedroom where Belen makes an extended visit.

Chapter 31 resolved the stolen gold. A heroic tale is told and Cynthia appears to his bedroom.

-

Chapter 28

More Evidence

June 7, 2008, Saturday afternoon

Once we knew the crime had taken place, 49 security had to work fast, going backwards, to figure out what would happen next. The physical evidence - trash, clothing left behind, etc. - didn't give us much beyond a very quick getaway. There was evidence that all the packing, plus grabbing the gold, took place during the 10 minutes Friday morning between when Abril left the apartment and when she was expected to sit down in front of her security monitors.

The team set up in Abril's room and went to work like CSIs. She could stay in my apartment or with her mother. She alternated, I was supportive but as a cultural thing she naturally turned to family, especially since the money was earned mostly by her father and was intended to get him out of prison. She also spent a good deal of time with Cynthia, Pammie was at home so there was room plus a sympathetic ear and other body parts in the bed. I gather that listening turned to licking for mutual comfort.

Rex - the nerd Sam sent over - had a laptop full of special programs, plus he brought a new hard drive, top quality, that was listed as unused except for being checked into inventory by Sam. At every step I had the computer guys talk to me first. Abril had the sense enough not to start her computer after she discovered the theft. Step one was to mirror Abril's computer drive to Rex's external hard drive so everything stayed intact, as evidence would, including Abril's private stuff. They worked with the mirror image.

Martha had put many files in the trash but never did an overwrite, so what she threw away was still there. Abril gave permission so they examined it all - she had nothing to hide except some R-rated naughty selfies, and they quarantined those until Tina, a female tech, could inspect them. The web history, including web searches, gave an open book that told the story clearly. Then the search moved to emails, the guys had to wheel in a printer to get it all organized. On the first pass our guys found hard evidence of what I dreamed up: searches and emails showing how the pair had planned, for over a year since they arrived, of going to Thailand for extensive surgery. (Well, given what they were looking at, surgery in Thailand was pretty logical.) Abril saw how Martha had known about the gold and been after it all the time they lived here.

This stuff was actually on Abril's apartment computer. Sam had hidden similar fictional material on the external drive in a way Rex and my guys could not find without Sam's help. But we didn't need the fiction, the facts were much more compelling.

They did the exact crime I would have framed them for! Except they had more disgusting detail than I could imagine.

I agree it was not a novel or unique crime, and that once you factor in the gold along with their desires there were not that many ways to go. I gave myself props, but then took them back, because it meant I was on Martha's level as a criminal genius. Clearly it was not something to brag about, so I could not take credit (to myself) for that bit of genius. But on the other hand, if I had not planned the frame, and been ready for it, they might have gotten away. So I was faster on the draw.

Was I lucky or smart? After going back and forth of the issue I decided that I won, and that is what counted. After all, I had the Jack of Ass and the Queen of Mean chained in my private hell, on ice until I lit the fires, so I didn't need to mention my prescience to anybody but them.

The specific planning - doctors and routes - started right after Martha read an online article about the bank closing. Abril always read the paper's printed edition so she missed the early online article, and Martha intercepted the bank mailings that followed each month. That meant Abril would face a time crunch when she learned her safe deposit was going away, forcing her to bring the gold into the apartment where the roomies could get at it.

Martha's emails and search history showed that three months ago Martha had searched for, and identified, the top body sculpting and gender change surgeons in Thailand. She contacted several and soon settled on a Dr. Huhg who would listen to them and their frankly impossible demands. With the gold was coming to the apartment before June 15 the fat bitch started planning the theft, the escape and the surgery all at the same time, leaving all kinds of evidence in the electronic trash.

Martha wanted extensive body modification, including extreme liposuction, to take off at least 40 pounds. She also wanted her tits perky and her clit extended "more penis like" so she could penetrate a woman's labials. She told Dr. Huhg that she aspired to be a B&D queen in Asia. Her desires were well beyond what the doc was willing to do, and were likely to kill her, plus there was a significant cost. But Martha was committed and she said she had the gold coming so Dr. Huhg played nice and kept listening, giving her hope about different procedures.

Kirkos asked about more radical desires, he wanted a sex change to a woman with a vagina constructed with penile tissue - that was routine. But he also wanted his ass to be turned into a second working vagina, using nerves and flesh from his scrotum. (Yes, this was hard for the guys to read. Hard gang members and heartless criminals get squeamish about some types of surgery.) His colon was to be closed off and disconnected. Other methods (too disgusting to mention) would be used for waste. Part of his plan was to set up a port in his torso so he could use an IV for most nourishment. His request was well beyond the outer bounds of medicine, but when 40+ pounds of gold was mentioned Doc Huhg replied saying it posed some interesting issues and kept the exchange going.

I read that as the good doctor's attempt to bargain and see how much the couple could afford before he got them into surgery. Maybe, for enough gold, they could die on the table. I mean, how good could a doctor be if every patient survived? Clearly that was another way of saying he only took the easy cases. Since the doc got his gold up front, it really would not matter.

Actually, as I thought about it some more, the real question was how much the doc had to show his own oversight people he was serious before he started harvesting organs and tissue for sale to the Chinese or Dubai cash-for-transplant markets. Since it was Thailand, I figured that the price of ethics was set pretty low.

The browser searches showed several plans to get to Thailand. The problem with flying was that neither one could get a valid passport, so airports would not work. The ocean is too big for any charter they could afford. A direct sailing trip on some sort of cargo ship was good, but those schedules were not user friendly and last-minute changes happened. Plus there was the problem of disembarking in Thailand. So they communicated about a meeting at sea, or perhaps an intermediate stop and a second cargo ship. Once outside the US they figured a week in Malaysia or Indonesia or Darwin was safe. They were wrong, there was twice the chance of getting caught by port authorities. (Darwin had better cops, the other two had much worse jails.)

Last Monday's arrival of the gold started a rapid series of emails. (Abril never mentioned the gold to them, but her trip to the bank, the heavy suitcase Abril would not let them touch, plus what Martha knew about the bank closing date said it all.) When the roomies started to talk about the gold as if it was in hand the emails from Doc Huhg suddenly became much more optimistic.

The funny thing was, that was when the email address for Dr. Huhg changed slightly. Martha did not notice the change, she just looked at the "From:" line, but the detail codes told a different story. The geeks quickly deduced that somebody in the doctor's office took over the discussion for their own benefit. Emails now went by way of a server in North Korea, which is always a bad sign. Always.

The emails switched to being about their rush to get out before Abril got another bank safe box, which could happen at any time. The last emails were with an agent confirming their cabin for a ship in Long Beach that departed yesterday, on Friday June 6 at 10 PM. It would go to San Diego. From there it would come back to Long Beach for a quick cargo drop, then steam to Oakland, before departure to Manila. They assumed (wrongly) that this would put them at sea and out of my reach. Also, it gave them a couple of shots to board the ship, if they were late Friday they could drive to San Diego or Oakland.

They believed I could not reach them while the boat was docked in San Diego or Oakland or Manila. Hell, for this much money, I could reach them anywhere on the high seas. Grandfather has a dozen ships, including some that are fitted out with heavier weapons. Protection is a key to his drug operation, and sometimes you get a chance to grab some product that nobody will complain about losing. The intention was to defend his drugs against pirates and drug stealers, but you know, they played offense pretty good too. Surprise helps. Slide up next to a tramp freighter, jam the radio, and fire a Carl Gustaf (a very common weapon in NATO and South America and grandfather's navy) across her bow and ship captains get real cooperative.

This was all from the plain text of trashed emails that the techs grabbed quick. Things would go slower for the next step, because there were a lot of details. However, Rex said Sam had resources to work "from the other end" at taking things off the email server. It would take time, but when Abril said she wanted it, I said to go for it no matter the cost.

Sam reminded me that the specific hard disk used to mirror the computer, which appeared untouched, had hidden content that contained a email exchange she created, based on what I gave her last Tuesday. Since my little fiction was not needed, Rex would not discover it. Cops couldn't find it. The FBI might if they sent in the HQ, or a rain man might see the glitch, but short of that it was safe, she had reprogrammed the HD ROM. I asked a few other questions, especially about remote access. It was like she had read my mind ahead of time. There was a way, Rex and my guys were good, but Sam was so much better, like a witch.

After our meeting where the surgery and transport emails were laid out in a clear trail, Abril looked at me in a particular way, like her heart saw something it liked. She did not believe I would help her so freely given that her action was so contrary my advice. She thought Sam was good, also very expensive, but I was backing Abril like money was no object. Of course, my guys and Rex were pumped up by my enthusiasm for "one of them."

The 49 tech guys and Rex noted that everything up to this point was solid evidence that was good for a trial under the rules of evidence and could be duplicated by LA police techs with a computer lab. From my end it was good as well, it sold Abril on the reality of the theft by her friends and made things easy for me because they left such good evidence.

For the next step, things would go the way I chose to edit reality. But first I had to write broadly, in pain for the wicked and stupid as they deserved. Why keep them waiting? The only surprise was the flavor of the pain.

-

Chapter 29

Painful Questions and Capital Punishment

Sunday June 8 through Wednesday June 11

(The events here deal mainly with the guests in the sub-basement at the safe house. The dates intertwine with some of the time covered in chapter 26, but they are presented together. The actions are presented with minimal graphic detail, I want to color in the characters and their motives with minimal specifics. The sexual activity is very limited.)

June 8. Sunday Afternoon

The Apartment Building

At the apartment house I held Abril's hand a lot Sunday afternoon. After we knew about the roommate's exit strategy I assigned people in all three ports. They reported (honestly) that the thieves did not make their scheduled boarding. I had them keep watch, and said that boarding the ship later was possible. The orders gave Abril some hope of getting her gold back.

Confessing the loss to her mother may have been the worst part of the whole experience for Abril. Her mother hated "Martha and her pet girly-boy" profoundly, plus her mother agreed with me, the gold never should have been brought building, and she never should have trusted those two. "Family is important... blood counts more than anything. When you have children you will know!" (Abril refused to talk about marriage with her mother, she knew her mother thought I was a prince and a golden opportunity that she could actually marry.) I was not there when they talked, but her mother asked Abril "what good is it to find a good man, to sleep in his great house, and then ignore his advice just because you are stubborn and liked to get your pussy licked by the overweight bitch? NO! You find a good man and stick with him, thick and thin. Like I stick with your Father."

Abril took the abuse, she knew she was at fault, her damn pride and stubbornness were to blame. All she could do was hug her siblings and say she was sorry to them, because they meant the most to her.

Abril also wanted to torture her former roomies when we got them, but I put a lid on that, saying they were likely to be DOA if they got back to the Pablo at all. "My soldiers, they skipped the chapter of their training book on taking prisoners alive." I asked it they had any weapons and Abril said "no" but then corrected herself and checked her room. It turned out her derringer and 9 mm were gone. Also, Martha had once had a cut-down carbine that jammed (Abril saw it). Martha claimed she destroyed the weapon, but she might have lied. I mentioned that a rifle could negate common body armor.

-

The Fort

Sunday Night

It was late evening before I got to turn my personal attention to the Martha and the Greek in the Fort. They were in bad shape after 60 hours of confinement on an IV, unable to move much. It really was inhumane of me, the human body is not meant for such things. Still, they would suffer no long-term damage from anything - not ever again. I had chained them up Friday well before noon, and now at 9 Sunday evening I cut off their clothes and hosed them off. The 60 hour delay could not be helped; they set the schedule when they stole the gold.

For the last 12 hours they were just on curare, an organic drug from the Amazon my people knew well. In the past my maternal tribe gave it to visitors for headaches and for control purposes, especially before a rare tribal feast with company. Large servings of rare meats were hard to come by, and guests were served as fresh as possible. The dozen indian women who were the mothers to the colony also knew the drug well. Aa a result, all my South American people were experts with the drug before we were 16.

As it was Sunday I delivered my sermon to the pair of sinners. I explained that they were two stories underground, and would never see a cloudy sky again. They recognized me and thought I would bust a cap in their heads. I had to disabuse them of these pleasant notions, things would not be that easy.

I mentioned that I had some questions they would answer. It was tiresome, I would ask the same question of both, and it would be unfortunate when the answers did not agree. Then for inspiration I played a video showing some of the two "Mandela necklacings" from not long ago. They watched in abject horror as flames licked the living bodies. I kept it short.

"At that time I was making a point to others and speed with the target audience was an issue. What we do here is more along the line of a personal hobby. Things will not go that quick."

Once I had their attention I gave them a dramatic reading of that section near the end of George Orwell's award-winning novel "1984" where it refers to the use of rats and face-fitted cages to inspire "thought criminals" to revise their thoughts and denounce others. George though one hungry rat per customer was sufficient, but I mentioned several places where cages might work.

Next I also showed them some crime scene photos: Abril's room, the busted empty suitcase that held the gold, and their new bank with them visible in the window. The last picture told them far more about why they were 20 feet underground, waiting for pain. They realized that they were not that clever.

I said that, after what they did to "my dear Abril" they had a choice. Really, it was more like a race. Things could get much, much worse. Or maybe we would have an easy conversation and, after checking, I would banish all pain forever. "I believe wet work is work, and I don't like work. But I will do whatever is required to get the answers I need. Winner gets a prize."

I had them. I had the gold. There was no disputing the basic facts. What I needed was secondary information and one of them would give me that. The other would meet some rats.

"But before that happens, I must say that I am an individual with some unfortunate personal issues to work out. Thank you for volunteering."

With the situation clear in their minds I ended the lecture. But before I asked any questions or even gave them a chance to speak, I used a heavy flogger to exercise (NOT exorcise) my personal demons, to center myself and calm down. I can assure them I really needed the exercise so I could stay in control later. Maybe it also informed their mood. I did not ask. They stayed gagged.

Their accommodations were not like Gracie's. In the deep sub-basement of the fort, twenty feet below ground, I had 4 soundproof cells that were bare concrete, designed to be easier on the jailer (me). Pairs of chains came down from high on adjacent walls, with very uncomfortable but secure metal cuffs for the arms. Using powerful motors the chains could be retracted to the point where the prisoner was suspended off the floor in agony, but usually they were loose and allowed a step or two of free movement around the concrete box. A pipe high on the wall dripped water, a drop at a time, for drinking purposes. A drain provided easy clean up. There was sufficient room to swing a short whip. Each room was equipped to hold up to three people if needed. But these were each kept alone in their own cell.

Curare insured they did not object when I cut off their clothing, attached the chains, shaved the attachment points for electrodes and saw to other details. After my talk I adjusted the chains and started to use the flogger. Because of the drug they could not move a muscle. This was "me time" so I did not give anybody a chance to break my chain of thought.

I had removed the guy's cock cage, I could see where it was attached; there were scars from wearing it 24/7. I could not stand to look at it so I removed it.