USB - Unwanted Sexual Behavior Ch. 04

Chapter Four - Remember, I'll be Watching

"I won't lie to you Taylor; it's going to be dangerous," David Campbell said.

"We strongly suspect that Veronique Pascal and Bradley Freeman are involved in a conspiracy to conduct money laundering contrary to the Money Laundering Control Act of 1986 but we can't tie them specifically to Alexi Kamerov or his people trafficking operation."

"We have some evidence but not enough to make a case. The best evidence would be to get them to admit to it in person and then we introduce our corroborative evidence to support the allegations. That's where you come in," David explained.

"How do I come in? What can I do?" Taylor was confused.

"I'll send you the data on the unreported income being generated by PostPay and the code that will provide you access to the illegal income streams. You're a whiz-kid programmer so it would be believable that you discovered the scam yourself. You confront Veronique with the evidence and tell her you know where the money is coming from and that you want a cut."

"Then it's over to you to do whatever it takes to get Veronique or Bradley Freeman to admit that the proceeds come from Alexi and his people trafficking enterprise. You will, for all intents and purposes, become a confidential informant," David said to a sceptical looking Taylor.

"How do I do that?" Taylor furrowed her brow.

"That's up to you. The alternative is to get swept up in the web when we take them all down," David said coolly.

"You mean the guys dressed in body armour carrying high powered weapons breaking down my door I presume," Taylor sighed.

David nodded sagely. He saw the fear on Taylor's face followed by resignation and couldn't help but feel sorry for her.

"Look, you won't be out there on your own. I'll be keeping watch," David patted Taylor's hand but she immediately withdrew it.

"How keeping watch? Where exactly will you be?" Taylor said tersely.

"It's best that you don't know. We don't want you constantly looking out for us or behaving unnaturally because you think we're watching. I want you to behave as normal as you can," David replied.

'Normal! I'm a man trapped in the body of woman, an experience that was until today not entirely unpleasant. I finally have my dream come true and my startup is a raging success, I'm rich, I have friends and now this!' Taylor thought to herself.

"So what's it going to be Taylor?" David looked at his watch to indicate that time was critical.

Taylor sighed and nodded her head.

"Ok give me your phone. We'll track you my GPS and cell-tower triangulation but there may times when you have no coverage so we will put a small transmitter in your phone. It doesn't have much of a range but we can use it to pinpoint your location and find you if the other two methods are no longer available," David explained.

"One of your methods of keeping watch?" Taylor managed a feeble smile.

The briefing went on a while longer and then David took Taylor back down to the garage. He handed Taylor her phone just before she climbed into the rear of the town car.

"Good luck. Remember, I'll be watching," David patted her shoulder but it seemed to her that he wanted to do more, maybe hug her.

She noticed that he looked at her legs when she climbed into the car. No matter what the situation men were incorrigible around a pretty woman.

The ride back to Taylor's apartment was a lot shorter because the driver was able to drive there directly, there being no need to shake a tail. The car pulled up right outside the entrance to the Millennium on LaSalle and the driver, who hadn't said a word during the whole trip, turned in his seat.

"David Campbell is one of the good guys but don't fuck him over because he might look like a he just left prep school but he can be a ruthless prick," he said and then got out of the limo to get the door for her.

He did not stare at her legs.

Taylor made it up to her apartment before she began to shake. She fell onto the couch and sobbed uncontrollably until she was cried out. She felt exhausted and she made her way to the bedroom, disrobed and ran the bath. She poured herself a stiff drink and went back to the bathroom and stood before the mirror and examined her body. She had been a woman for long enough now that it no longer surprised her to see herself that way, but her body still fascinated her.

Having said all that, Taylor was looking forward to becoming her male self again in the near future. As she lowered herself into the bubbles she wondered if her forthcoming gender change might be her salvation. If she could play out the time she had remaining as the female Taylor until it was time use the USB to transform back into her male self she could save herself from prosecution and incarceration.

Female Taylor will have disappeared, taken by the Bratva perhaps, never to be seen again. Her cousin would come forward as her rightful successor. If she could get the FBI to hold off until then, the male Taylor could sell PostPay to Bradley Freeman who she knew wanted control of it. Male Taylor could not be indicted for money laundering because he had no knowledge of it. He would walk away with a healthy profit and work on another venture.

All of sudden there was light at the end of the tunnel.

Taylor luxuriated in the bath longer than she should have. She had been away from work for most of the day and she had a stream of texts from Veronique and an accumulation of email to deal with. But the bath was sumptuously warm and inviting and now that she'd had a drink to take the edge off and possibly has a solution to her conundrum, not all seemed lost.

She put down her drink and allowed her hand to snake down her body to the cleft between her legs whilst the other hand stroked her breasts. Her nipples engorged as did her clitoris as she massaged it with the pad of her middle finger. She didn't have a lot of time so she pressed harder and faster until her clitoris began to tingle and then she pushed two fingers into her vagina and tweaked her nipples.

The orgasm blossomed like a rose, each delectable peal of delight was like a petal opening until the rose was in full bloom and intense rings of pleasure wracked her body. Taylor sighed and stretched out her toes and writhed a little in the warm foamy broth, letting the last tinges of her climax dissipate.

"Ok. Enough procrastination, get back to work," Taylor said and lifted her body from the foam.

Taylor drained the bath and stepped into the rainfall shower to wash away the remaining lather. She put on a bathrobe and fired up one of her PCs and went to work. She answered those emails that required a response and the same with her texts. She found four missed calls from Veronique Pascal and a few 'WTF?' texts so she gave her a call.

"Where the fuck have you been all day?" Veronique said without any preamble.

"I told you that an old friend was passing through and it was my only chance to catch up. I haven't seen him for years?" Taylor stuck to the pretext.

"You blew off Nordstrom for an old friend? What are you in fucking high school? I'm pissed and so is Bradley. The Nordstrom execs wanted to see the whiz-kid who developed the app not the monkeys pulling the levers," Veronique did indeed sound pissed.

"I'm sorry Veronique. What can I do?" Taylor was keen to make amends, she needed to get back on Veronique's good side.

"I'm going to tell you exactly what to do darling. You are going to put on that low-cut red satin sheath with the ass-to-ankle split in the side that I made you buy at Talia, put on the matching red Louboutin's, do your hair and makeup and get your fine ass down to Alinea. We have dinner reservations for nine," Veronique said.

"So a late dinner where I schlep my tits and ass around the execs from Nordstrom and all is forgiven?" Taylor tried to make light of it.

"Maybe by them; as for me I'm not so sure. We'll see what happens," Veronique broke the connection.

While she was speaking with Veronique an email arrived from an unknown source but Taylor knew that it was generated by FBI Agent David Campbell. She downloaded and unpacked the attachment. It directed Taylor to the source code on the PostPay servers at FreeCom that the Bratva, and by association, Bradley Freeman and Veronique Pascal were using to launder money.

As much as she would have liked to explore the programs and sub-routines cunningly buried in PostPay's operating system there was no time. Instead she spent half an hour in front of the mirror perfecting her hair and makeup and then slipped into a pair of her favourite flesh-toned Jonathan Aston 12 denier seamed holdup stockings and a pair of red, seamless, microfiber, hipster panties so as not to show any visible pantyline under the satin sheath. She shimmied into the evening gown; there was enough support in the bodice of the dress that she could go without a bra.

Taylor accessorised with a matching silver and emerald necklace and earrings to complement the dress and shoes. She used her app to order a car from her service while she fussed around ensuring she that looked perfect and then threw the essentials into a Jimmy Choo silver clutch and slipped her feet into her red four-inch Louboutin pumps just as the car arrived.

Taylor decided not to wear a coat over the dress for fear of spoiling the nap of the sleek fabric. Braving the bitter cold for the quick trip from the foyer of her building to the rear doors of the limo was worth it because when she alighted from the car at Alinea restaurant heads were turned and compliments were made.

Veronique's car pulled up behind Taylor's and she too turned heads getting out of her town car wearing a teal charmeuse evening gown and white Jimmy Choo's. The gown was perfectly complemented by her blood-red lipstick and severe jet-black shoulder-length bob.

The two women air-kissed at the entrance to the restaurant while the concierge held the door open for them and more heads turned as they made their way to the bar escorted by Bradley Freeman who had arrived in Veronique's car.

"When I see you dressed like this Taylor I can almost forgive you for being AWOL today," his fingers brushed Taylor's buttocks as he put his hand in the small of her back to guide her to the bar and Taylor doubted that the ass-grab was accidental.

She spent the evening schmoozing up to the Nordstrom executives, two men and one woman, ensuring that she displayed plenty of legs and tits. All three of the executives seemed interested, which made Taylor think the female exec was either lesbian or bi. The late dinner wrapped up around midnight and the Nordstrom people excused themselves. They needed to get some rest; tomorrow was a workday.

Bradley insisted that Taylor and Veronique accompany him to his apartment for a nightcap despite their protests. They bundled into the back of a town car where Bradley took the opportunity to not so subtly grope them both. They had all drunk plenty during the evening and their inhibitions were down. Bradley settled the women on a long couch in the subtly lit lounge room and poured them all drinks that they really didn't need.

Bradley was happy to sit in an armchair and watch Veronique and Taylor get it on. They stripped to their lingerie and spent a while kissing and fondling each other then they took turns going down on each other and then they moved to the bedroom and ended up scissoring on the big bed.

Bradley became impatient and a little rapey and the girls submitted to his desires and he fucked them both a little and Veronique let him come in her ass. Then the girls got back to scissoring and then they fell asleep in a tangled heap.

The next day at her office in FreeCom Taylor closed the door and asked the receptionist to screen her calls while she examined in detail the source code that had been installed on the PostPay servers. The malware was simple but cunning. It generated fictitious PostPay accounts which then made purchases for significant amounts of money just below the $10,000 limit which would require a currency transaction report. Deposits were made through PostPay into the accounts of the sham vendors which were then routed overseas into numbered bank accounts.

An algorithm determined when a fictitious account was nearing overuse and likely to draw suspicion and the account was closed and another pseudo customer account immediately generated. According to Taylor's calculations the Bratva could conceivably launder over half a billion dollars a year through PostPay. The program was designed so that the illegal transactions did not pay any fees or interest to PostPay so that it passed seamlessly through the system but did not artificially bloat PostPay's profits which would have drawn the attention of the Treasury Department.

"Fuck!" Taylor was shocked at the audacity of the scheme.

The malware had obviously been programmed into PostPay by one or more of Bradley Freeman's whiz-kid coders, not that it mattered. What mattered to Taylor was linking the bogus accounts to Alexi Kamerov and the income streams to human trafficking.

Taylor walked down the corridor to Veronique Pascal's office and entered unannounced. She closed the door behind her and leaned back against it.

"A dramatic entrance Taylor; what can I do for you?" Veronique asked.

"I know about the secret code embedded in PostPay," Taylor said frankly.

Veronique raised an eyebrow and indicated a leather sofa in the corner of the office. Taylor strode over and sat down and Veronique came around from behind her desk and sat opposite her.

"What are you talking about?" Veronique remained stoic.

"I'm no criminal investigator but I can only guess that PostPay is being used to launder money. Bradley is obviously in on it because the programming code has his whiz-kids signatures all over it. Code writers are almost like authors, you can tell who wrote the book even if you can't see the cover," Taylor replied.

"I don't know what you are talking about," Veronique studied her fingernails.

"Look Veronica, Bradley is smart. He's a very competent businessman and entrepreneur, I'm sure he's behind the scheme but someone is providing the cash. Someone is pushing huge sums of money through PostPay and I can only think that that person is you... or someone you represent," Taylor appeared confident but inside she was petrified.

"Really Taylor... and where am I getting all this money you claim I am laundering?" Veronique stopped looking at her nails and her eyes drilled into Taylor's.

Veronique looked downright dangerous as her eyes narrowed and a scowl formed on her blood-red lips.

"You told me about how you started life as Katcha Kovalenko before you went to Paris and morphed into Veronique Pascal. About how you legitimised some of Alexi Kamerov's business interests before you escaped the clutches of the Bratva," Taylor took a deep breath and continued.

"I'm hypothesising that you never really broke your ties with Bratva and that you are still working for Alexi, helping him launder his money," Taylor returned Veronique's glare.

"You hypothesise a lot Taylor. Was it not Bradley who financed your startup when no one else was interested? Was it not I who did most of the leg work finding the multinationals to join our venture? Was it not Bradley and I who marketed your app?" Veronique snipped.

"Wasn't it I who transformed you from a poor Kmart frump to a sophisticated Prada chic? You owe me so much and yet you accuse me of using PostPay to launder Bratva money!" Veronique hissed, all vestiges of camaraderie gone.

"PostPay was by baby Veronica! I created it! I nurtured it!" Taylor retorted.

"Don't be a petulant brat Taylor. You handed PostPay to Bradley and I to do what you couldn't... to market it. To make it pay," Veronique countered.

"To make it pay Taylor! Let's be truthful here... it's all about the money! It was always about the money! It will always be about the money!" Veronique slapped the table to emphasise each point.

"In that case I want my share!" Taylor snapped back.

A wicked smile crossed Veronique's face and she came over and sat next to Taylor. She was uncomfortably close.

"And there we have it. Now you are behaving like an adult," Veronique patted Taylor's knee.

"There is plenty of money to go around Taylor. Money is not a problem. What is a problem is that you need to know what we are doing. You realise that as soon as you take one cent of that money you become part of the conspiracy? There is no turning back," Veronique squeezed Taylor's knee.

Taylor just nodded.

"You also need to realise who you are getting into bed with. I told you what happened to me; what I had to do to get myself out of that apartment block in Munich. I told you about the degradation I put myself through willingly so that I wouldn't end up like Olga hanging from the ceiling with her panties full of shit but I never told you what happened to Yana. I don't really know myself but when Peter and Gunther took her away, you can bet they made her regret that she ever stole from Alexi Kamerov before they killed her," Veronique said sagely.

"Everyone knowingly associated with this enterprise is a possible source of compromise. Can you imagine what happens to someone who Alexi suspects may be jeopardising his operation?"

Taylor nodded.

Veronique turned Taylor's face to hers and looked her squarely in the eyes.

"I don't think you do Taylor. I don't think you do," Veronique said gravely.

"Do you still want the money? You might as well take it now that you have become a potential liability. At least if you are on the take, you become part of the conspiracy; you are as guilty as any of us," Veronique's smile contained no warmth.

"Yes. I want a share of the money," Taylor's sighed.

"Ok, good girl. It will only take a little time to set up an offshore account for you. For obvious reasons the money can't be deposited into any of your existing accounts. Also you will need to be careful how you spend the money. You are already a wealthy woman so it won't raise any alarm bells if you spend some of the money but you need to think about what you are going to do with the rest of it; it will accumulate quite quickly," Taylor smiled and squeezed Taylor's knee again.

"I can help you to invest the money wisely offshore, but let's not get ahead of ourselves. Just behave normally. Don't break your routines or make any changes to your current lifestyle."

"I'll contact you soon with the details Taylor, ok?" Veronique said reassuringly.

"Ok," Taylor returned Veronique's smile.

Veronique leaned in and kissed Taylor on the lips.

"Let's go to dinner tonight. You can come around to my place after," Veronique slipped her hand under Taylor's skirt.

She rubbed Taylor's sex through her panties while she kissed her again, this time more passionately. Taylor returned Veronique's kiss and felt herself becoming wet. Veronique gave Taylor's cunt one last rub and then withdrew her hand. She eased out of their embrace.

"See you tonight Taylor," Veronique smiled at Taylor and stood up.

The meeting was over.

Taylor went back to her office and started to tremble. She had done what was asked of her, but she was more scared than ever.

That afternoon Taylor went home early. She recognised the black sedan parked out front of her apartment building but did her best to ignore it. As she entered the foyer David Campbell slipped in behind her and entered the same elevator. He stood behind her and Taylor glanced nervously up at the security camera mounted in the top corner of the car.

"Act naturally Taylor just in case the doorman is watching the screens. The FBI techs will remove the recorded video tonight so there will be no record of our meeting," David whispered even though he knew that audio was not being recorded.