Time Never Waits Pt. 09

"I pay taxes, too."

"On money that came from where?"

"From our budget, it, uh..."

"Right. See what I mean? I pay more in taxes in a month than you'll pay over your entire career. That's not counting the taxes my employees pay. No, this gold represents opportunity. The ability for me to be able to expand, creating more jobs. Like I said, I'll not tolerate any interference with my program. I'll not just hand over $150,000,000 to a bunch of irresponsible parasites just so they can piss it away on some fanciful notions that'll be long forgotten the next quarter. Not to mention that the majority of it will most likely end up in the pockets of their friends and families. You think they report that and pay taxes on it? You know better than that."

"Well, you do have a point."

"Too many people are sucking on the tax payer tit. Bureaucratic bullshit. Enforcing pointless rules and regulations that do nothing more than dissuade productivity. All so they can justify their pointless jobs to an overpaid, overstaffed bunch of idiots that live a 9 to 5 existence, all the while telling themselves that they are relevant just to find validation in their pointless jobs. A group of people a mere fraction of the numbers they have on the payroll could easily do their job, for mere pennies on the dollar. How many law enforcement agencies are there? FBI, DEA, ATF. How much are their budgets? In the tens of billions. How much do they spend investigating, prosecuting and processing all this bullshit? They'll spend a million dollars on a ten thousand dollar crime. That in itself is criminal. Anyway, I'm going to bed. I guess I'll see you in a little while."

Alice watched him walk away with a pang in her gut. Every bit of her education and training screamed at her to walk away from this, from him. To report to her supervisors what she saw here. But her gut told her he was right. In every way.

Never before had she met anybody like him. He was just so young. Easily half her age. But was he? Everything in her instincts told her something about his appearance just wasn't right. His actions. His demeanor. His obvious experience. All spoke of someone much older in years.

Eighteen year old males were running trying their dead level best to see how many ways they could fuck their lives up. But him? He was busy planning and building an empire that would rival anything in the history books.

Another thing about him that belied his age was the passion he truly hated government bureaucracy. Because, there again, his knowledge and understanding of the entire process took years, even decades to develop. The most damning evidence was the passionate hatred itself. That could only come from years of fighting it just to get anything done.

The more she considered the situation, the more she knew in her entire being that her collective life up to this point had been a monumental lie.

That was the product society sought to produce. Puppets that blindly followed the great master, devoting their lives to The System. All while footing the bill themselves. Just so the Master could grow ever larger and fatter on the backs of the lifes work of others. Manipulating the monetary systems to suit its agenda. Developing a narrative that nobody dared question lest they fall under the scrutiny of those servants like herself. Having been brainwashed to believe that The System was righteous and moral. Above reproach.

He had awakened in her a Truth. A realization that her entire life had indeed been a lie. She now knew it was time to walk away from it. To serve a new Master. No... That's not what he represented. He was a master of himself. To those that worked for him, he was a benefactor. He treated them all as equals. He treated them better than he treated himself actually.

When she first saw the opulence of this place, she had mistakenly judged him as a spoiled brat kid, full of self serving vanity. Yet, the more she witnessed him in action, the more she realized that he provided this luxury more for those around him, than for himself.

She knew he'd be completely happy with an 8x10 shack, furnished with a bed, a simple desk, a stove and refrigerator. She looked around the office. Everything about it told her nothing in its decor was designed by him. It had all been here when he bought this place. There wasn't even a television anywhere but in the living room. He obviously didn't watch it.

She went back to the room where he had taken her earlier. The memory of that fuck he had given her still vivid in her mind. She took the robe off and stretched out, immediately falling asleep with the thoughts of him breeding her running through her mind.

Breeding her. Hmm. Was it possible? Had he bred her? A smile crept to her lips at the thought as she drifted off.

I woke up with the sun, kissed Angela, and hopped in the shower and turned on the cold water and let it wash away the sleep, then added some hot, lathered up and bathed.

I stood in front of the mirror and studied my face while contemplating the day ahead.

The buyers. I certainly prayed they didn't try any bullshit. I just wasn't in the mood for it. I'd turn them into squirming masses of goo brained amoebic creatures. My thoughts strayed to Alice. Was she still here? Guess I'll find out soon enough.

I grabbed the shaving soap mug and wet the brush, then worked up a thick lather. I loved the scent. Bay Rum. The cabinet over there held a copious amount of this soap as well as Bay Rum aftershave. The previous owner liked it. Then, well, so did I.

I shaved carefully with his straight razor. Applied deodorant, then sloshed on a liberal amount of the aftershave. Enjoying the astringent bracing burn. I slid on some jean cutoffs, a well worn Tshirt, slicked my hair back, topped it off with flipflops. Now, ready for the day.

I went to the courtyard and saw Consuela was back. She saw me and made me a glass of tea and brought it over, sitting down.

"Thank you for the party for Luis."

"Por nada."

"The hands took the beef in. It's hanging now."

"You got an invite list worked up?"

She nodded. "About 50 people maybe."

"What about entertainment? Anybody in mind?L

"No, I wasn't sure how you felt about that."

I gestured over to the sound stage,

"Why do you think I had that built?"

"I understand that, but, you know, that's for your guests."

"Consuela, we've been through a few moments since I've been here. But, all y'all have been here a long time. Hell, Luis was born here. Y'all raised your families here. This is just as much your home as it is mine. Now, if you want a band, and I insist on it, tell Sabrina and we'll get it done."

She looked at me, a tear forming in her eye. She wiped it away, and resumed her

role,

"You want breakfast?"

"Whatever you're feeding everybody else will be fine."

She headed off to the kitchen.

Alice came out wearing the robe and slippers. Freshly showered without make-up. She still looked damned good from my way of thinking.

Consuela reappeared with a platter of assorted tacos and a bowl of my favorite salsa made from fire roasted peppers, tomatillos, finely chopped red Spanish onion, cilantro, and freshly ground spices.

She looked at Alice,

"Coffee, please."

Alice eyed the tacos,

"Now, those look delicious."

I picked one up, spooned on a healthy portion of salsa,

"Dig in."

And savored the complex flavors that began unfolding. She selected one, gingerly sampled the salsa and found it absolutely decadent, spooned it on the taco and savored it.

Finishing, she chose another. After that one, she sipped her coffee, studying me.

I chewed and swallowed my last bite, then turned my attention to her.

"Something on your mind, agent Freeholm?"

She squinted her eyes in a well practiced glare directed at me.

"Yeah, to begin with, lay off that agent bullshit. No, I've just been thinking about what you said. Concerning the government, shit like that. As much as it pains me to admit it, you are one hundred percent correct."

"Oh really? In what exactly?"

"Well, mainly the law. In how it's evolved to be a self serving pile of meaningless political crap. It no longer serves to protect society, but to further its own agenda."

I nodded,

"OK, and?"

"And what? I don't want to be a part of it anymore. It's time to move on I think."

"So, any idea of a direction you want to follow?"

"Well, I am a lawyer. So, I thought about the possible opportunities that presents."

"And have you reached any conclusions?"

She nodded,

"I'd like to apply for a position with you. Here in your program. As an attorney."

"OK, have at it."

"What do you mean?"

"You said you want to apply, so apply."

"OK, so, I'll need time to get my resumé. Do you have an application to fill out?"

I just shook my head,

"I don't operate like that. You just sell yourself, your skills you're offering."

She looked surprised, but recovered quickly enough.

"Well, I'm 35, single, presently employed by the FBI and assigned to the financial crimes division. I live in an apartment complex in Houston, on the last month of my lease. My credit score is 780 at last inquiry. I have a JD from Baylor. My parents both live in the Austin area. Both attornies. I have extensive experience in financial law and procedure. Strong accounting skills. I work well in a team environment. So, I..."

I held up a hand, silencing her. Then held that hand out to her,

"Welcome aboard, Alice. You are my new private council. Get with Sabrina, she'll get you lined out. She's my personal assistant. What she say's, goes. The same for Consuela. She runs the house. Her husband, Luis, runs the ranching operation. You've met my woman, Angela. My mother and grandma are here, as well."

"Just like that? I'm hired?"

"Yep. Although I figure you need to turn your stuff back in over at the FBI."

"Yes, I do.I can atleast tell them I've quit."

I got on the intercom,

"I need whoever's flying the helicopter to come to the couttyard, please."

A little bit later, a gruff looking redhead guy about 40 or so showed up with a guard in tow.

"I'm Leck Jenkins, chopper pilot."

I held my hand out.

"Mr Jenkins, Travis Miller. This is Alice Freeholm. I need you to meet her in Houston and bring her back here, please. Y'all work out a time frame."

He offered his hand to her.

"Can do. I'll be at the airport when you're ready."

They finished the greeting and the logistics, then he left to prepare to leave. I turned back to Alice.

"What do you need to get moved out?"

"I've got a small moving truck worth."

"OK, hang on."

I picked up the phone and called my moving company contact.

"I've got Alice Freeholm here. I need a couple of men and a truck to meet her at her apartment and move her out. A big truck that can accomodate her stuff and her vehicle. Bring her stuff here for storage. Here, I'll give you to her to work out the details."

I handed her the phone, then went back to the business at hand.

She completed her business with the moving company dispatch, then handed the phone back to me.

"Thank you so much for this. It's a big relief to finally be free from that life."

"No problem. I suppose it goes without saying, but just keep in mind that I don't want my business discussed with outside sources."

"I figured that much, silly. I'm just turning my creds and equipment in, filling out their forms finalizing my resignation. I'll have my final paycheck mailed here I guess."

I shook my head.

"No. You'll have an expense account at the bank here in town. Get with Sabrina. She'll get you set up. Just have it mailed there for deposit. She'll get you set up with your company car, whichever you choose. Then the rest of your information for your file here. You can have an apartment here on the ranch if you like. Or we'll get you set up in a place up town."

"You have an apartment available here for me?"

"Well, we will if you want it. Sabrina will get you hooked up with Mark Jacobus, my construction manager. He'll discuss your needs and dispatch a crew to build you one here. You can stay here in the main house until it's complete. Takes about a week start to finish. I have good crews and they work two crews around the clock. Go out there and pick a spot. Oh, and you'll need to spec out an office in it, too. Whatever you need. Your utilities are covered. You buy your food on your expense account. You'll be issued a gas card, as well."

She just stared at me in silence.

"Is there something else?"

"My god, no. I just... Well, I've just never seen anything like this before."

"I told you, Alice, I run a tight operation. Efficient and productive. I don't waste time. It's too valuable of a commodity. Now, go get it done. I got lots of legal shit for you to do."

I dialed up the gold dealer. His secretary answered. She informed me that they were on the way and should be arriving at any moment. I thanked her. Hung up and buzzed the guard house.

Gerald Hopkins himself answered.

"Hey, boss."

"The trucks are almost here."

"Yep. I'm on it. Got the full crew on station, ready for anything. I'm handling it personally. By the way, my mother is on the way back out. She wants a face to face later if you can."

"Sure thing. Anytime she needs, you know that."

"Thanks boss."

I went in and retrieved a gold bar and brought it out. Then I waited. Consuela had just refilled my tea glass when the intercom box came online.

"They're here boss. We're looking everything over."

About ahalf hour passed and the guards came in escorting the gold buyer, two other men in suits and a half dozen men carrying suitcases.

I stood up as the two suited men and dealer approached me under the watchful eyes of my security team. These men were never outside arms reach of my men.

The dealer introduced us ahd I invited them to sit down.

"Would anybody care for refreshment?"

No's all around. I just shrugged and slid the gold bar over for inspection.

The one obviously in charge demanded,

"Where's the rest of it?"

"Inside, pending verification of funds."

"And you're the one in charge?"

"That is correct, sir"

"But you're..."

He was cut by the other one who reached over amd placed a hand on his arm.

"Yes? I'm just what?"

He glared at his companion a long moment before replying.

"Just a snot nosed kid. Look at you. Dressed like a fucking beach bum. Only showing a single bar. I want proof of the rest before we go forward."

"Ah, I see. Well, no. Put the cash up here where I can see it. Once I'm satisfied, my men will bring the rest out to you."

I chose to ignore the snot nosed kid insult. Once.

"I don't think so. You can either show me the rest, or we're taking our money and leaving."

I just stared at him in the eyes, emotionless.

"Suit yourself."

He blustered and huffed and puffed while I just sat there sipping my tea. Staring at him.

Eventually, however, his partner stepped up and had his men place the suitcases on the ground around me. One of my guards stepped up, took one of them, moved away, and opened it. Satisfied, he brought it back and carefully placed it on the table in front of me. I extracted several stacks from the case a random and counted them. then carefully studied the bills.

They appeared genuine. We repeated the process through the remaining cases.

I was satisfied.

I turned to Gerald,

"Pick four men and bring in the dollies."

He gave his orders and two men appeared with dollies. I led them inside, showed them where the gold was, then came back out.

I pointed to mine and their men,

"If you gentleman would be so kind as to move these tables and chairs."

I looked at another one.

"Please have the first truck in line back into here, please."

Soon, there was a steady flow of gold being brought out and loaded onto the trucks, with random bars being selected and tested.

It took a solid couple hours to get it done. After it was completed, i asked if the men would care to stay for lunch.

The dealer accepted the offer, the buyers declined. The men replaced the tables and the visitors were gone.

Consuela came over and I ordered chicken fried steak, mashed taters, with gravy and macaroni and cheese.

The dealer agreed and had the same. He started the conversation,

"Snot nosed kid? I almost shit my pants when he said that."

"Ahhh, fuck it. The deals done. I couldn't give a fuck less what he thinks about me."

Lunch went by until I sopped up the last vestiges of gravy from my plate. Then I turned my attention to the luggage. I picked the phone up and called Dave.

"Where you at?"

"At the house."

"Go to the bank and get the new manager and then head to the airport. Y'all hitch a ride on the chopper. It's waiting on Alice."

"OK, I'm on it."

Then I called the airport and got shuffled around until I was connected to the pilots waiting lounge. I asked the woman that answered to page Leck for me. A little elevator music later, he picked up the phone,

"Jenkins."

"Mr Jenkins, Travis Miller."

"Yes sir, what can I do ya for?"

"Wait on Dave Haskins and some other guy who's name escapes me at the moment. They're riding back with you."

"Gotchya. Alice called fifteen, maybe twenty minutes ago. She's on the way here now."

"Thanks."

"You betchya. See you in a bit."

I hung up and hit the intercom.

"Sabrina!"

She popped out a minute later.

"Bring your book, papers, whatever, that say's how much I owe the bank."

She popped back in and came back out with the stuff.

"This is everything. After Dave worked his magic shit, it appears as somehow he managed to fold a lot of your borrowing into the mortgage securities the feds bought up. Revaluing the properties the bank was buying on paper, writing the mortgages up for way more than you actually bought the property for, then repaying your loans at top intrerest rates, then adding the remaining debt to your tab, amounting to pennies on the dollar. WIth nothing concrete to allow detection of the sleight of hand. So, here's what you owe as of right now, just north of ten million, on over a million acres of land, plus businesses."

"What do you mean, houses on paper?"

"Well, I asked him the same thing. Apparently, the bank backed some development firms that went belly up. But not before filing platts and all that shit. So, he wrote up mortgages on houses slated to be built, but weren't. A lot of them. I thought he'd lost his fucking mind, but somehow he shifted any blame off the bank and dropped it on the developers. Apparently, every one of the houses has a registered address. Making it look legitament. Hell, I don't know. Anyhow, he had the developers real estate appraiser write them up as being valued at over $100,000 each, then he filed the appraisals, then took a bunch of pictures of a few model homes they built for sales. Then wrote up the mortgages and sold them. Since your loans were signature only, it was easy to slide that debt into the mortgage valuation, leaving your properties as cash purchases, with free and clear deeds filed in your name."

I just shook my head in wonder. I got up and picked up one of the suit cases and laid it out on the table, then counted out $12,000,000. I looked at the rest. $238,000,000. I started carrying them in and two guards came up and took over.

"Where to, sir?"

I just shrugged,

"Follow me."

Then led the way to my office, opened the gun vault and let them in. They sat the luggage down and stared around in absolute wonder.

"Jesus," The older one said quietly.

The younger one just walked around admiring the array of expensive firearms.

"Pick them up if you like." I told them, Giving them the permission that etiquette prevented them from voicing.