Note to publisher: This story includes italics and centering.
***
Spy Games
Chapter 26
I planned to remain in Atlanta for the rest of the day and drive back to Merryville the following morning. Not that I wanted to do any more shopping or see the sights. I was hoping to spend the afternoon and all of the night in bed… with Janis… and maybe also get some much-needed shuteye.
The Ball Busting Bitch’s text nixed that idea.
* You and your team have an appointment with Control at 8:00 tomorrow morning in Merryville. Text me the location of an easily secured location meeting room. *
“Does this mean we finally get to meet the big boss?” Flanagan asked after I read him the text.
“Doubtful. It’s probably just another video conference with his face blocked and his voice disguised. When we get there, I bet we meet some geek with a video camera and secure com link.”
“But why now. We’ve done over a hundred missions and always got debriefed by our handler.”
“Maybe he’s tired of getting secondhand information,” I guessed. “Maybe he’s lost faith in the BBB and wants a firsthand account of what we’ve been up to the last few months. Hell, he might even want to give us a commendation.”
“Right now, I’d trade a gold medal for a bottle of Jack and a comfortable bed.”
We checked out of the motel and loaded up for the long drive back to Merryville. Janis, the Russian girls and I led the way in the van. Flanagan and Sixty-nine followed in the SUV.
Janis didn’t say much for the first couple of hours. Which was one of the many things I admired about the lady. Unlike many women (and men) she didn’t have an annoying need to fill every waking second with superfluous conversation. But in this case, she was exceptionally quiet. Which again, didn’t concern me. The woman had just seen what Flanagan, Sixty-nine and I really did for a living.
Reading about someone getting killed in the newspaper is a lot different than witnessing people you know and trust gun down three men.
She was obviously against white slavery two days ago but seeing five girls she considered friends tied up and gagged in the back of a rental truck made it personal.
The twenty-four hour a day news cycle certainly made her aware of the occasional plane crash. Knowing in advance that one was going to happen was an altogether different experience.
Janis had a lot to think about and — while I never claimed to be a mind reader — I suspected she was reconsidering her relationship with me. I wouldn’t have been a bit surprised if, after we got back to Merryville, she politely said, “it’s been fun” and suggested we go our separate ways. The more I thought about it, the more I realized we had no alternative.
I was a spy. I would always be a spy. Janis was a small-town realtor. Just like my brief love affair with Amanda, there was no scenario that allowed Janis and I to have a long-term relationship.
We had just crossed the Georgia / Tennessee border. The Russian girls had talked themselves out and were sleeping when Janis turned to me with the look of a woman who had made a major decision.
“Am I part of your team?” she asked.
“What team are you talking about?”
“The text from your boss. She said, ‘you and your team have a meeting with Control tomorrow morning’. Am I invited to that meeting?”
“I doubt it. Most people that work for him have never seen his face. I’m guessing all we’ll see is a video feed anyway. But if Control really is coming to Merryville, I can almost guarantee he won’t let a civilian know who he is.”
“Would you at least ask?”
“I will, but why? What do you have to gain from talking to Control?”
“The man is taking my soul mate away from me. I want to put a face to the name so I can transfer my anger from you to him.”
***
I woke the next morning to the pleasant sensation of two small hands gently stroking my morning woody.
“Does this mean you’re no longer mad at me,” I asked my busty blonde bedmate.
“Are you still leaving me?” Janis asked.
“I’m afraid so.”
“Then I’m still mad at you.”
“You have an interesting way of showing it.”
“I’m only mad at your brain. The rest of you still makes me happy. Now shut up while Johnny and I have a little talk.”
I was about to ask who the hell Johnny was when Janis slipped under the bedsheets and licked the length of my erection.
“You named my dick?”
“Don’t listen to him Johnny. He’s just jealous because I love you more than him.”
Her tongue made another circuit and then she French kissed my cockhead, letting the tip of her tongue delve into my tiny slit.
“Oh Johnny, if only you could talk. Imagine the stories you could tell, the places you have been. Tell me Johnny, how many times has your little cock heart been broken? How many girls has he introduced you to, only to pull you out, cover you up and never let you see her again?”
She slipped her warm, wet lips around my alter ego and let him slide an inch or two into her mouth before pulling away.
“If you stay with me, I’ll never break your heart. Live with me and I will never turn you down.”
Her next attempt brought my cock to the entrance of her throat. I let out a soft moan as she bobbed up and down, trying go deeper… but it wasn’t going to happen. So, she pulled back, gave my cock one last kiss and continued her charade.
“I’m sorry Johnny. You’re too big for my throat, but I have another place I know you’ll enjoy even more.”
Janis shrugged the sheets to the bottom of the bed and kissed her way up to my chest. Raising to a kneeling position, she positioned her leaky lady lips over my equally well lubricated lance and slowly impaled herself to the hilt.
“This is your home, Johnny. This is where you are destined to spend the rest of your days. Feel the warmth of my pussy. Enjoy how she massages your cares away. Sense the love she has for you.”
With her hands pressed against my chest for support, her boobs swaying tantalizing in front of me; Janis slowly and methodically fucked every inch of my cock until the inevitable approached.
“Can you feel it, Johnny. Can you feel my pussy getting tighter, clutching at your girth?
“Look at my tits. Look at my rock-hard nipples. Do you smell my arousal? Do you smell my woman scent permeate the room?
“I’m going to cum, Johnny. I’m going to cum and I’m begging you to cum with me. Shoot your sperm up my pussy and into my womb? Do what you were put on this earth to do.
“Please Johnny. Please cum with me.”
I did. I came so hard I half expected to see streams of white squirt out of her nose, ears and mouth. I held her in my arms as she shivered through several aftershocks from her 8.0 Richter quake.
“Who am I?” I asked when she finally got control of her body.
“You are Mark Seiman, the man that I love.”
“Are you still mad at me?”
“I never was. Now get your ass out of bed and meet me in the shower. We don’t want to be late for our date with your boss.”
***
2404 Surrender Court was one of the first Merryville houses I bought and was the logical choice for our meeting with Control. The home was miles off the beaten path, the nearest neighbor was over a mile away, and it still retained some of the original owner’s furniture. I texted the address to the BBB the previous night, assuming Control’s entourage would take care of security.
With the Russian girls safely stashed in a house on the other side of town, Janis drove the four members of “my team” up the tree lined, private drive which led to the mini mansion.
The Company presence was obvious. Two large SUVs were parked far enough up the drive to not be seen from the road but still a good hundred yards from the house. One of the SUV’s blocked our path forward and — when we pulled up to it — the second SUV pulled behind us and blocked our exit.
“Shit,” Flanagan said, “they’ve set up roadblocks out of blast range from the house. You know what that means.”
“Control is here in person?” I asked.
“Yep. That’s my guess.”
Two men climbed out of each SUV and crouched behind what I imagined were armored doors with weapons leveled in our direction.
“Please get out of the vehicle,” one of them said.
We complied.
“Agent Alpha, approach.”
Knowing the drill, I walked towards the lead SUV, stopped ten feet from them and took off my sunglasses. Using a camera mounted to his weapon, he snapped my picture and, after a few seconds pause, turned to his partner and said:
“Facial recognition of Alpha confirmed.”
Flanagan and Sixty-nine went through the same drill and were also identified as good guys. Which left Janis standing alone by the van.
“Who’s the blonde?” one of the stone-faced security men asked.
“Her name is Janis Moorehead. I’ll vouch for her.”
“She’s not on the list.”
“I was told to bring my team. She’s part of the team.”
The guard had a brief discussion with someone over his com link. After saying, “but she’s not on the list,” three separate times, he finally returned his attention to me.
“She’s clear. Follow me.” He gave me a look of annoyance and led us toward the house.
Janis quickly caught up with me as we walked up the drive. “You obviously didn’t ask if I could be here. Was that your version of not asking permission but begging forgiveness?”
“You’re not in the meeting yet. But at least they aren’t going to make you wait in the van.”
Janis gave me an exaggerated eye roll and then turned to Sixty-nine.
“You better keep an eye on your boyfriend. The first time I was here, Flanagan handcuffed me to the bed, had his way with me while pretending to be Mark, and then spanked my bare bottom for speeding.”
“Sounds like our normal Saturday night,” Sixty-nine said.
“Yeah, he always was quite the romantic bastard,” I added.
“And still am,” Flanagan said as he gave Sixty-nine a quick slap on the ass.
The guard led us through the front door and to the formal living room where we were met by an attractive woman who I guessed was in her early thirties.
“Thank you for coming,” she said as she shook my hand. “I’ve heard stories about the exploits of Agents Alpha and Foxtrot. It is an honor to finally meet you. And you Agent Sixty-nine, from what I’ve heard from your handler, you are an up-and-coming star. Please make yourselves comfortable. There are refreshments on the table.
“If you don’t mind, I would like to borrow Miss Moorehead for a few minutes before the meeting starts.”
As pleasant as the woman was, I noticed she didn’t introduce herself and the first thing on her agenda was to remove Janis from the room. Before they could get Janis alone, I stepped up to one of the guards, stared him directly in the eyes and said:
“Are you familiar with what Foxtrot and I do for a living?”
“I’ve heard the rumors.”
“I am placing Miss Moorehead in your care. She will not be strip searched. She will not be interrogated. If any harm comes to her, Foxtrot and I will give you an up close and personal demonstration of what we are capable of. Do you understand what I just said?”
“Yes sir. I will guard her as if my life depends on it.”
“Well-chosen words.” I handed him the 9 mm pistol I had surreptitiously lifted from his holster and took a seat in the living room.
Five minutes turned into ten, and then a half hour. Not what I would call a “few minutes”.
“What do you think?” I asked Flanagan.
“Either Janis is charming the pants off of Control or we’re going to have to kill a shit load of our own people to get her back.”
“Let’s give it another five minutes and then go exploring.”
We were seconds from my arbitrary deadline when I heard two women laughing as they descended the stairs. One I readily identified as Janis and the other…
No fucking way. It can’t be.
When they walked into the living room together, I was so shocked I was momentarily paralyzed.
“Hello my young prince. I’ve been looking forward to this moment for fifteen years.”
It was Mrs. Bancroft. My mentor. My surrogate parent. My first lover.
“Does this mean?” I stammered.
“Yes dear. I am Control. I took up the position right after I kicked you out of the nest. Now get your butt over here and give me a proper welcome.”
I blasted out of the chair as if I had just pulled ejection seat handles and was soon in her arms. Having never expected to see Mrs. B again, the sight of her brought back a sea of emotions that I couldn’t contain. Our hug lasted far longer than appropriate for a business meeting with my boss’s boss, but I didn’t give a damn and our startled audience wasn’t about to complain.
When we finally broke our embrace not only were Mrs. Bancroft’s and my eyes full of tears, but Janis’ beaming face was also streaked with rivulets of emotion.
“Am I allowed to introduce you to my friends?” I asked.
“Yes, but give me a minute,” Mrs. B said and then turned towards her security detail.
“Leave us please and close the door behind you.”
“We were told to never let you out of our sight,” the chief guard complained.
“I appreciate your loyalty, but the man who gave that order works for me. I feel safer now than I have in years. You will do as I say, or I will find a more pragmatic security detail.”
They obviously didn’t like it but were good soldiers and followed orders.
“You too Harriet,” she said to the lady who first greeted us. “And no listening at the door.”
She too seemed reticent to leave her boss with ne’er-do-well field agents, but obediently complied. Once the five of us were alone I started around the room.
“Mrs. B, I know you recruited him, but I don’t think you two have ever met. This Neanderthal I brought with me is Agent Foxtrot, more commonly known as Officer Flanagan in Merryville. The young lady hiding in the corner is Agent Sixty-nine and you’ve already met Janis Moorehead.
“Team, meet Mrs. Bancroft. I might have brought up her name a couple of times in the past.”
“Yeah, like at least twice a day for the last fifteen years,” Flanagan said. “I know it’s probably not the right time to ask, but where do you hide the halo and angel wings. According to Alpha, you sit at the right hand of God.”
Mrs. B chuckled at Flanagan’s impertinence and then got right to the point.
“As happy as I am to meet you all, I’m afraid this is not a social visit. My purpose here is to explain why we brought you to Merryville and to brief you on your next mission.”
“Uh, Mrs. B,” I interrupted. “If we’re going to talk shop, do you think it wise to keep Janis in the room. For her safety, we shouldn’t involve her in this any further than required.”
“Do you think I’ve gone senile in my old age? I’ve just spent the better part of an hour with Miss Moorehead and, I must say, it was the most enjoyable, uplifting conversation I’ve had since you left me. I can see why you’ve fallen in love with her just as I know why she is so fond of you. Trust me, I will do everything in my power to protect your princess from harm, which is why I insist she hear what I have to say. Now pay attention and don’t interrupt until I’m finished.
“Thanks to the intelligence you obtained from Alek Popov’s safe, plus the hard work of Company agents worldwide, we now know the Russian and Chinese tactical plan for Merryville and their long-term strategy to subdue our entire country.”
Yep, that made everybody sit up and take notice.
“First off, Merryville is not in danger. At least not for the short term. Yes, a host of foreign agents are headed this way, but they are not armed with bombs or deadly toxins. Their weapon is electronic espionage. I’m not talking about them stealing US military secrets, although they are doing a fine job of it. What concerns me even more is their ever-increasing expertise in industrial espionage.
“The rumor that they will use the Merryville auto plant to build autonomous cars is true. They will claim that these cars are the result of Chinese and Russian funded technology. But the truth is that these self-driving vehicles incorporate the best and latest design ideas of every major American and Western European auto maker. It is like they took the most talented engineers from Tesla, Ford, General Motors, BMW, and Mercedes and made a brand-new company. No, they didn’t kidnap or bribe those engineers, they lifted the information directly out of the cyber world.
“And they didn’t stop there. They also electronically raped the brains of every high-tech company on the planet, be it Google, Apple, SpaceX or a ten person start up in Argentina. Our enemies have abandoned the notion of hard work and innovation. They’ve given up trying to build a better smart phone, search engine or rocket motor. Now I’m not saying they don’t have competent scientists in China or Russia, but why spend money on basic research when they can have it handed to them?”
“I know you said not to interrupt,” I said. “But since we know they’re doing this, isn’t there anything we can do to stop them?”
“Completely stop them? No.” Mrs. Bancroft said. “Despite all our best efforts, there are too many back doors to data bases. Too many mid-level engineers willing to take a bribe. Too many people who don’t follow security protocols.”
“So, what can we do?”
“We make it easier for them. We let them set up shop in our country… right here in Merryville, Tennessee. We help them build their autonomous cars, knowing full well that they are going to turn them into mobile espionage hubs. Every car that comes off the assembly line will report directly back to the Merryville plant.
“The Chinese and Russian engineers living here will know exactly where every car is every second of every day. At first glance, that doesn’t sound like much of a threat, until you realize that everybody in that car will be carrying a smart phone, probably some kind of tablet and maybe a laptop or two… all of which will be synced to the car’s integral broadband network.
“They will have full access to our phone calls, text messages, e-mails and social media accounts. The data on our hard drives and supposedly secure cloud storage accounts will be at their disposal. If one of these cars is parked in your garage, it will hear everything you say around Alexa and see everything your security cameras see.
“In short, if this car of theirs is as successful as we think it will be, in five years, the Chinese and Russians will have full access to every aspect of our lives.”
Mrs. B stopped talking, walked over to the refreshment table, and poured herself a cup of tea.
The four of us, all in a state of shock, followed her with our eyes but remained silent. When she calmly sat back in her chair and it appeared her story was over, three sets of bewildered eyes turned their gaze from Mrs. B’s to mine. It looked like I was elected to speak for the team.
“That’s it?” I asked my mentor. “We’re giving up? We’re letting them take over the country?”
“What choice do we have?” she countered. “I’ve spent my entire career trying to guard our country’s secrets, striving to protect our freedom, and yet all of my efforts seem to be in vain. The Chinese are literally stealing our economy out from under us. The Russians are meddling in our politics. It’s only a matter of time before we are nothing but their puppets, willingly doing their work for them and buying whatever they wish to sell us.
“Unless…” she continued. “Unless we can find a way to beat them at their own game.
“While the Chinese and Russians are working together on this project, they still don’t trust each other. That’s why the cars will be made here, a neutral location under the joint supervision of both parties. And more importantly, all of the data that comes from their cars will be sent directly to Merryville before it is forwarded to Moscow and Beijing. They want to ensure that agents from both countries have access to the same information.
“That is where you four come in.”
“What can the four of us do to thwart the combined intelligence forces of our two most sophisticated adversaries?” I asked.
“Tell me, my young prince. How many Americans immigrate to China every year?”
“I don’t know, maybe a thousand?”
“Not even close. The actual number for last year was less than a hundred and most of them were of Chinese descent. Now tell me how many Chinese immigrated to the US last year?
“More than a hundred?” I guessed.
“Over a hundred thousand. What does that tell you?”
“That life is better in the US than China?”
“Apparently a thousand times better. That is our advantage over both the Chinese and the Russians.”
“Okay, we’ve established that their countries suck and ours doesn’t. I still don’t see how the four of us are going to outsmart them. Especially if everything we do and say will reside in a computer somewhere deep in their car plant.”
“What if we controlled that computer?” Mrs. B said. “Suppose we had access to the horrendous amount of data that will go through that computer every day and modified it to suit our needs.
“If a research group in Wisconsin developed a battery that charged twice as fast and lasted three times as long as what is currently available, we could either keep that information from being passed on to the Chinese or change the design slightly so that whoever tried to replicate the stolen plans would spend millions of dollars producing batteries that are drastically inferior to ours.
“It would only take a minor tweak to the plans for our new stealth fighter to make the Russian knockoff show up on American radar like a beacon in the night.
“If we can get control of that computer, we can hand feed our adversaries enough false information to negate any advantage they gain from what we let pass through unfiltered.”
“That’s our job?” I asked. “To get control of that computer?”
“Yes. But it won’t be easy. It’s not like breaking into a safe and taking pictures of the documents inside. To be successful, we must gain and keep control of that computer for years, maybe decades, all the while making the Chinese and Russians think it is still their exclusive property.
“An asset that important will have several layers of security. Security so tight that even Agents Alpha and Foxtrot won’t be able to penetrate it. Tell me, my young prince, what is the best way to break through an impenetrable security system?” she asked.
“An inside man,” I said, harkening back to the nightly lectures Mrs. B gave me on spy craft… often conducted with either her hands, boobs or pussy lips massaging my cock.
“Correct. Your original mission was to buy houses for a hundred Chinese and a hundred Russians. Your new priority is to convince as many of their new inhabitants as you can that their lives will be many times better if they stayed in Merryville, permanently. My guess is that just living in America, experiencing true freedom for the first time, will be enough to persuade quite a few of your visitors to stay. If that doesn’t work, feel free to get creative. Bribery, blackmail and seduction are all on the table. But I’m betting at least one of your soon to be neighbors will gladly help you access the computer in exchange for US citizenship.”
“Neighbors?” Flanagan asked. “Does that mean we’re staying in Merryville?”
“Yes. All four of you. I will obviously send you some technical help once you’ve gained access to the data stream coming from the cars, but for the short term, you will do everything you can to convince your soon-to-arrive guests that Merryville is the modern-day equivalent of the Garden of Eden… without the snake.”
“But that could take years,” Flanagan protested.
“At least five,” Mrs. B. said. “Probably a lot more. It will be two years before the first car rolls off the assembly line and another three or four until they get enough cars on the road to justify activating their intelligence gathering capability. The Chinese are known for planning for the long term, like a decade in advance. How long the Russians will stay with them depends on how convincing we can make the false data coming out of Merryville. I know it won’t be as exciting as your previous assignments, but it’s the most important mission we have, and I want our best team on it.”
“I hate to keep bringing this up,” I said, “but Janis doesn’t work for the Company.”
“A minor technicality,” she said. “If the two of you will come and stand in front of me, we’ll rectify the situation here and now.”
Not having a clue what she was up to, I stood and did as she asked… as did Janis.
“Agent Foxtrot, I want you to stand next to Alpha. Sixty-nine, you stand next to Miss Moorehead.”
They also complied.
“Face each other and join hands,” she said to Janis and me.
“Janis Moorehead. Do you promise to put up with this man for at least the next five years? To make love to him whenever you desire. To forgive him when his duties require he woo other women. To assist him with his mission while insisting he leads as normal a life as possible.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” Janis said.
“Agent Alpha. Do you promise to live with this wonderful woman for as long as she will have you? To protect her from the coming storm. To be faithful to her unless your mission demands otherwise. And, most importantly, to always give her what she wants.”
“Yes ma’am, I do?”
“By virtue of the power invested in me as Control, I know pronounce you husband and wife. Welcome to the Company Janis.”
***
Epilog
One month later.
I didn’t know if Janis and I were legally married and really didn’t care. Two days after our meeting with Mrs. Bancroft, Janis and I moved into the house on Surrender Court and have been there ever since.
Flanagan and Sixty-nine also moved out of our old hideout in the woods and claimed 3666 Flogger Street (the house with the hidden bondage room) for their residence.
We spent a couple of weeks settling into our new digs while simultaneously preparing for the next phase of our mission… the arrival of the Chinese and Russians. If we were to convince two hundred enemy agents that Merryville USA was where they wanted to raise their kids, we had a good bit of house cleaning to do. I don’t mean vacuuming the living room carpet and dusting the chandelier. I’m referring to cleaning up the town.
We already had Merryville police officers Randy Toody and Fanny Muldoon under wraps. They would eventually be tried and convicted of their numerous crimes and sentenced to spend the rest of their days in the state penitentiary.
Mayor Stuffit was next. Armed with an eighteen-year-old video of Stuffit killing Janis’ parents, Flanagan — in his capacity as a Merryville cop — got an arrest warrant and soon had Stuffit behind bars. He too would be a permanent guest of the state penal system.
With the mayor out of the picture, the city council held an emergency meeting to decide how they wanted to proceed. According to city statutes, these meetings were to be open to the public; a little detail the council had ignored for years. Imagine their surprise when their secret gathering was interrupted by Flanagan and a half dozen members of the Tennessee Bureau of Investigation.
It was a short meeting. Two of the council members were arrested on the spot. Andrew Rowan for contracting the murder of his second wife. Casey Green for his documented habit of luring barely legal girls onto his casting couch with the promise of a career in the theatre in exchange for their virginity.
The three remaining council members were guilty of crimes of omission. While they didn’t participate in Janis’ rape, they also did nothing to stop it. When Officers Tooty and Muldoon apparently gave Janis a lethal injection and carried her out on a gurney, not one council member reported the attempted murder to a competent authority. As much as I wanted the three of them to do time, explaining to a judge how Janis survived the ordeal and where she had been the last couple of months would bring undue attention to our mission.
Flanagan also didn’t tell the TBI about Janis’ rape, kidnapping and attempted murder. In deference to the greater mission, Janis’ ordeal would never become public knowledge. So, when the TBI escorted councilmen Rowan and Green out of the courthouse in handcuffs, the remaining three council members let out a collective sigh of relief.
Until Janis and I walked into the room.
Katherine Nunn, the lone female council member let out a shriek and then fainted. Peter Deacon, the man Katherine was routinely fucking behind their spouses’ backs, came to her aid. Carson Taylor, whose mother and son had held Janis at gunpoint, hooked her up to a milking machine, and otherwise taken liberties with her voluptuous body, was the first to speak.
“We, we thought you were…”
“Dead?” I suggested. “Is that the word you’re looking for?”
“How,” Deacon asked. “How can she be alive. We saw that female cop stick the needle in her arm.”
“If I were you, I wouldn’t be worried about how Janis escaped from the grave,” I said. “You should be more concerned about how you’re going to leave this room alive.”
“But we didn’t do anything.”
“Exactly. You did nothing while the woman I love was raped, injected with what you thought was poison and then carted away.”
“She was blackmailing us,” Katherine Nunn said, having recovered from her initial shock.
“Actually, it was Raven Hardwood who sent the blackmail notes. But don’t worry about her. She is no longer a threat to anybody.”
“Is that what you’re going to do with us? Are you going to kill us too?”
“If it was up to me, I’d put a bullet in each of your cowardly hearts and let God decide what your punishment should be. But I wasn’t buried alive and left to die a long and painful death. Your fate will be decided by the aggrieved.
“What do you think?” I asked, turning to Janis. “Do we kill them now and be done with it? Or should we make them dig their own graves first?”
“As tempting as it all seems,” Janis said. “If I sat back and let you kill them, it would make me no better than them. I don’t think I could live with myself, knowing three people died because of me.”
“So, what would you consider an appropriate punishment? Castration for the men comes to mind, and a few splashes of acid on Katherine’s face would certainly curtail her social life.”
It was all I could do to keep a straight face as I observed the looks of absolute terror of the three council members. Both men’s hands involuntarily went down to their crotches and Katherine’s went up to her face. I was fairly sure Janis didn’t think I was serious but gave her a conspiratory wink just to be safe.
“Actually, I was thinking we just let them go free,” Janis said. “We would certainly set a few conditions for their pardon, but once they comply, I think they should be able to start anew.
“What do we have to do?” Taylor said.
“Your civic duty,” I answered. “According to your charter, when the mayor of Merryville is no longer able to fulfill his duties, the city council will select a replacement who will serve until the next scheduled election.”
“You want one of us to be mayor?”
“Absolutely not. Janis Moorehead will be the next Mayor of Merryville. The three of you will vote her in unanimously, announce it to the city and then immediately resign your positions on the council and leave town.”
“But we’ve lived in Merryville all our lives. We have businesses and family here.”
“You have a week to leave town. Once you leave this room, the three of you will never speak to each other again. Once you leave the state of Tennessee, you will never return.”
“And if we refuse?” Deacon asked.
“Options one and two remain on the table,” I said brandishing my Walther PPK.
“We can’t possibly sell our houses in a week,” Carson Taylor complained.
“Fortunately, I happen to know the best realtor in town. Janis will sell your house for whatever price she deems appropriate and forward you the proceeds, minus her commission of course.”
***
Janis’ first official act as mayor was to fire the current chief of police and replace him with Flanagan. Newly minted Chief Flanagan subsequently fired the officers Tooty and Muldoon had identified as “on the take” plus a couple that were just bad cops. He replaced them with seasoned Company agents who were glad to finish their careers in the relatively safe and boring jobs of small-town cops.
When the first wave of Chinese and Russians filtered into town, they looked to Merryville locals to fill the mundane, non-technical duties of running their new car plant. Sixty-nine took a job as an entry level accountant under the name of Pricilla Flanagan, the young wife of police chief Brian Flanagan.
I assumed the role of a successful real estate speculator who had fallen in love with and married a local girl. With Mrs. B’s tacit approval, I used the profit we made from our two hundred real estate transactions to spread a little largesse around the community. For my first charitable endeavor, I took in five homeless Russian girls.
It was Janis’ idea to have the girls move in with us. While we eventually wanted them to find their own way, she thought it best that we guide them through the first several months — if not years — in their new country.
Realizing that Janis and I were sort of on our honeymoon, the girls did their best to give us our privacy. There were a few exceptions, like whenever a thunderstorm came in the night, Anya climbed in bed with us, ducked under the sheets and used my dick or one of Janis’ nipples as a pacifier.
Tatiana had a habit of joining us in the shower. No explanation. Whenever she heard the water running, she felt a sudden need to get naked and soapy.
The other three girls pretty much stayed to themselves. Sure, they occasionally got urges that they claimed only I could satisfy. And even though Janis didn’t mind if one of our housemates occasionally joined us in the bedroom, or shower, or kitchen, or jacuzzi… we knew we’d eventually have to find local men to scratch their itches. But, until we got the girls somewhat Americanized, we thought it best to keep those activities in house.
***
Several weeks after we sort of got married, Janis and I left the kids at home and went over to the Flanagan’s house for dinner. After a delightful meal of locally harvested venison, we retired to their “game room” so Flanagan and Sixty-nine could show off their newest toy.
I helped myself to some whiskey and poured Janis a glass of dessert wine as Flanagan hooked Sixty-nine up to a harness which suspended the girl from the ceiling, her outstretched toes a few inches above the floor. Using a complicated collection of ropes, pulleys and restraints, Flanagan demonstrated how he could position his newly assigned wife in nearly any position imaginable… like a puppeteer manipulating the strings of a marionette… a naked, well-constructed, extremely aroused marionette.
As Janis and I casually watched Flanagan put Sixty-nine through her paces, the subject of Miss Hardwood’s fate came up. The last time we saw her, she was in the back of the white slavers’ truck. Flanagan had turned the infamous dolphin entangled necklace into a GPS tracking device hoping it would lead us to the assholes that made their living buying and selling women.
“Any word on Raven?” I asked Flanagan as he gently stroked Sixty-nine’s naked ass with a riding crop.
“Yeah, but you’re not going to like it,” he said and then put a loving stripe of red on his new partner’s derriere. “We followed the tracker for three weeks. It went from Atlanta to Chicago, to Kansas City and then to Miami. It was immobile in Miami for several days, so we sent an agent to investigate.”
Flanagan paused his story as he studied his impressive array of BDSM implements, seemingly unable to decide which device would give his mate the most pain and pleasure.
“And,” I prompted.
“They found the tracker,” he said, picking up a cat-o-nine tails and gave it a practice swing. “But Raven wasn’t wearing it. The necklace was jammed behind one of the boards in the rental truck. For all we know, Raven and the necklace were separated soon after we left her, and we’ve been tracking a bunch of different families and their junk around the country for the last several weeks.”
“Damn. That means we have no idea where she is.”
“Do you think she escaped?” Janis asked.
“Possibly, but why would she hide the necklace?”
“Maybe one of the people who took her found the necklace and left it in the truck to throw us off the track,” Sixty-nine suggested as Flanagan teased her boobs with the tip of the lash.
“That’s another possibility, however I doubt whoever is driving kidnapped women around is smart enough to figure out Raven was wearing a tracking device,” I said. “I’m afraid we’re going to have to admit defeat on this one. I was hoping to use the tracker to hunt down the head of the sex slave gang.”
“I wouldn’t call it a complete failure,” Flanagan said. “While we didn’t find the white slavers, we’re apparently rid of the Raven problem. If she were still alive and free, she would have shown up here looking for her commission checks by now. By her silence, I’m guessing she’s either dead or the newest addition to a wealthy mid-eastern sheik’s harem.”
“I, for one, hope it’s the latter,” Janis said. “As much as I don’t like the woman, I don’t wish her dead… although I do feel sorry for the other harem girls.”
“I feel sorry for the sheik,” Flanagan added. “He has no idea what he’s up against with Raven.”
Janis took a final sip of her wine.
“I think it’s time we gave these two some privacy,” she said to me. “Thanks for a wonderful meal and an enjoyable evening,” she said to our hosts. “I know it’s still early but there is rain in the forecast, and you know how Anya gets around thunderstorms.”
We said our goodbyes and let ourselves out… never to mention Raven Hardwood again.
***
“Blessed is the man who leads a life of passion and purpose.”
I don’t know if the person who spoke those words was oracle or deity. I do know they apply to me. Not the old me. Agent Alpha was a soulless creature who wandered the earth in search of a reason for being. I’m talking about the new me, the Mark Seiman me. I have found my passion. Her name is Janis Moorehead. My purpose is loving and protecting her. And if, while guarding Janis, my friends, and our town from the evils of the world, I also keep the boot of tyranny from stomping on my country, then that too would be a good thing. But Janis will always take priority.
Eighteen years ago, when I first became Mrs. Bancroft’s ward, little did I know she would eventually give me exactly I wanted.
THE END
*****************
Spy Games is the last book of the Janis Moorehead / Raven Hardwood / Mark Seiman trilogy. For those who stayed with me through Realtor Games, Realtor Revenge, and Spy Games… Thank You, Thank You, and Thank You. I hope you enjoyed the journey.