Date: Thu, 29 May 2003 22:48:30 -0400
From: JSL <jsl2k4@hotmail.com>
Subject: My Island pt. 4

This is a fictional story dealing with love and consensual sexual
activities between males.  If you are not of legal age, reside in an area
where viewing such material is illegal, or are offended by homosexuality
and/or homosexual themes, leave this site now.

The author retains all rights to this story.  No reproductions or links to
other sites are allowed without the permission of the author.

Thanks again for all of the great emails! I was very touched by the
overwhelming messages of concern for the character Brandon. I hope that my
readers will understand that in order to deal honestly with the subject
matter at hand, that it is sometimes necessary to show both sides of the
coin when considering sexual relationships with boys. I assure you that I
in NO WAY condone, encourage, or celebrate the abuse of children. Please
note that the following chapter also deals with some violent themes, though
none are sexual in nature. Thanks for keeping this series alive with your
wonderful support. I guarantee that if you stick through it with this
chapter, you will be well rewarded in chapter 5!

Thanks!

~JSL


My Island-pt 4

______________________________________________________________________________


"What if I could take you and your friends away from here forever?" I
whispered as my hand caressed the soft cheek of the young boy lying next to
me.

"Don't" he dismissed, lowering his eyes.

"Don't what?" I asked, knowing full well why he had responded negatively.

"You don't have to go there man," he continued to look away.

"What do you mean?"

 "You paid me man," he looked into my eyes again, but this time his
expression grew cold. "It's cool. You don't need to act like you care."

"That's not fair." I snapped, my hand now cupping his cheek. "I have never
treated you like a whore. You know that I care about you and your brother."

"I know you do," he now looked very sullen, "it's just...well, I've heard
that so many times now. 'Let's feel sorry for the little foster kid take
him

home forever. But then they dump you when they no longer find you cute"

"Well," I began cautiously, "that certainly wasn't my intention, and I
don't have any illusions about having you be my little live in whore. I
just

know how I feel about you and thought that you would like to get away from
here is all."

"Are you being totally serious?" He began to brighten up somewhat, although
still looking reluctant, "I mean, well, yeah I would like to get the fuck
outta

here. I hate it here. But I belong to the State man, not that they would
give a fuck if one more foster kid disappeared," he gave a sarcastic little
laugh

but I could tell he felt the pain of being unwanted very deeply,
"besides...it's not just me. I don't go anywhere without my brother."

"I have no intention of separating you and your brother. In fact I want to
take all of your friends with us. And as for the State...well, I promise
you

we'll go where they can never find you."

"Oh yeah," he smirked, "and where would that magical place be?"

"My island" I smiled.

The screeching of tires and the blaring of horns shook me from my dream. I
watched through the smoky glass as the limousine driver waved his arms and
mouth what I was sure were many colorful obscenities at the cabbie who had
cut us off. Only a dream, only a momentary flash of life flying through the
whirlwind that was my mind these days.

It had been a real chore dropping the boys off at the Wells Home. It had
taken about ten good minutes to calm Jack down as he cried and kept asking
'why can't we stay with you?'. It was heartbreaking. I couldn't help but
feel a little bit empty as we drove off through the city streets. What the
hell was wrong with me? What the hell was it about these two boys that had
such a stranglehold on my heart? You have to understand, I have been all
over the world and have enjoyed the company of dozens of street
boys. They're all sad, they all have a rough life. That's why their on the
streets. Now don't get me wrong, I'm not some heartless bastard who just
uses boys for my own gratification. I only said this because I was finding
myself baffled by why these two particular streetboys were any
different. Why had they been able to steal my heart and soul?

"I have got to get my head on straight," I sighed as I entered the hotel
suite and passed my coat to Xin Mae.

"I sense the Sir is struggling over his young friends," Xin Mae smiled as
she poured me a Brandy.

"Why!?" I perplexed as I slipped out of my clothes, "Why are these boys any
different then all of the others?"

"Perhaps Sir has found something he has been looking for in young Master
Jonathan?" she smiled again, slyly as she handed me the Brandy.

"I just need to get this deal done and get the fuck out of this city," I
took a huge swallow of the Brandy.

"Perhaps Sir needs to be honest with self," she took the glass back from me
after I had killed it.

"Perhaps I just need to go to sleep," I silenced the discussion.

"As Sir wishes," Xin Mae nodded and left the room.

I climbed into the massive canopy bed and covered my naked body with the
oversized duvet. My eyes drifted open and closed and I floated through a
sea of fleeting thoughts and ideas. I began to see Jonathan and Jack's
faces very clearly. There beautiful smiles lit up everything around
them. They were a vision of love and raw boy sexuality. All of the sudden
their faces melted away and I saw the dark image of the dank backstreets of
the city. The imaged came into focus and I could make out my two loves
being fucked by two greasy old men. The old men laughed as they dumped
their loads all over the shamed boy's backs. I saw in the distance a line
of dirty old men just waiting to get their hands on my angels. I then saw
them standing at the bus depot begging for food and money. Their sad faces
filled my head. I tossed and turned and held a giant pillow over my head as
I let out an agonizing scream.

"Xin Mae!" I shouted.

I sat up on the edge of the bed and held my head in my hands.

"Sir!?" Xin Mae stood at the doorway to my room.

"I need your help..."


____________________________________________________________________________


"I thought that you were'nt gonna fuck with that sick bastard anymore?"
Jonathan winced as he surveyed the damage to his friends swollen hole.

"Well...," Brandon pulled back a little as his friend started applying
ointment to his tender ass, "it's not like I have a whole lot of options ya
know?"

"What do you mean?" Jonathan rubbed the ointment in between his hands to
warm it up this time before he touched Brandon again.

"I mean I'm not like you Jonathan," he looked away, "I have to get it
anyway I can."

"Aw for fuck sake Brandon," Jonathan closed the tube and threw it onto the
nightstand, "would you spare me the tiny dick shit. I mean fuckin' hell
dude....you....have....a....small....dick....so fucking what!?"

"Easy for you to say," the boy's pride was obviously holding a deeper
wound, "you don't know what it's like to be laughed at and teased. I'm
almost 14 yrs old and I bet your brother's hung better than I am."

"Jesus Brandon," Jonathan got up and then laid back down next to his
vulnerable friend, "you have the best looks of all of us. You are bigger,
stronger, faster," Jonathan grabbed the boy's stiffening prick, "and sexier
than all of us put together."

"Stop Jonathan," Brandon pushed his friend's hand away from his rigid
prick, "I don't need your pity."

"It's not pity, you ass," Jonathan corrected.

"Well...you don't have to is all I'm saying." Brandon became glassy eyed.

"What if I want to?" Jonathan asked as he leaned in and gave his friend a
deep, wet kiss.

The two friends locked in a loving embrace. Jonathan resumed his rubbing of
Brandon's stiff cock. Brandon moaned slightly but Jonathan could tell that
his friend was somewhat uncomfortable. Brandon had made his less than
average penis the focus for everything that was inadequate in his life. It
would take a lot of work to get the boy to really experience pure
pleasure. Brandon ran his fingers up under the leg of Jonathan's
shorts. Jonathan rarely ever wore a shirt when he was at home, so Brandon
moved down and sucked in his friend's nipple. Jonathan cooed and picked up
the pace with his hand. Jonathan pulled his friend on top of him and opened
his legs to make him more comfortable. Jonathan could feel the tip of
Brandon's hot prick poking beneath his balls so he picked his legs up and
held them against his chest. Brandon look confused and hesitated. He could
tell that Jonathan was giving him access to his boyhole, but stalled as the
feelings of inadequacy came rushing back.

"Go for it man," Jonathan smiled as he pulled his ass cheeks apart.

"I..." Brandon looked scared to death.

"You'll fit just fine man," Jonathan winked at his nervous friend realizing
that he had probably never even had the opportunity to fuck someone.

Brandon lined the head of his prick against the opening of Jonathan's hot
ass and leaned forward to gain entrance. The tip of his head easily popped
in and Brandon held it there for a minute. Jonathan grabbed Brandon's hips
and pulled the bigger boy down on top of him, forcing his cock to plunge
inside to the hilt. Brandon let out a low moan as he felt the inside of an
ass for the first time. Jonathan smiled at his friend.

"Now fuck me man!" Jonathan ordered, "fuck me good."

Brandon began to pump in and out of the beautiful boy beneath him. It took
him a moment to get down a rhythm, but once he had it right, the two boys
moved together in a union of flesh. Jonathan went all out for his friend as
he moaned and groaned with pleasure...some real....most acted. Brandon
seemed to really get off on watching his prick slide in and out of
Jonathan's juicy pucker. He loved watching the boy's balls bounce and slide
around his crotch as he plowed into him.

"I'm gonna shoot Jonathan!" Brandon's pumping grew slower and more irratic
as he dumped his hot boyjuice into his friends sweet ass.

"Aaawww!" Jonathan groaned as he shot his own load onto his belly.

The boys collapsed into each other and drifted off to sleep.


_______________________________________________________________________________


The next afternoon Jonathan, Jack, and Owen were hanging out in the quad
area when Brandon came flying through the doors. Almost tripping over a
gathering of younger boys playing with action figures one the grass, he
bounded towards them. Jonathan instictively moved in front of his younger
brother as Brandon came to a crashing halt in front of them.

"Dude!," he panted as he tried to catch his breath, "you guys aren't gonna
fuckin' believe this shit!"

"What!?!" they chimed in unison.

"I just met up with Charles who said that Mr. Hill is willing to take
whatever we've managed to save up and get us the fuck outta here!", he
stood up, still red in the face, "I even asked about Max and Simon, and he
was like cool!"

"No fuckin' way," Jonathan looked around in amazement.

"Fuckin' sweet man!" Owen exclaimed, "we are so fuckin' outta here!"

"It's on for tomorrow at three o' clock," Brandon put a hand on Jonathan's
shoulder for balance, still wiped out from the run, "we're meeting at the
old warehouse by the northside train yard."

________________________________________________________________________


I waited for him by the deck railing overlooking the street below. I was
still feeling unbelievably torn by the whole situation. I knew what I felt
in my heart for this amazing boy and his little firecracker of a brother,
but I also knew the realities of the street boy life. Would he really see
me as more than just a man who paid him to have sex? My question would be
answered sooner than I thought.

"Guess what? Guess what?!" he bounded through the sliding glass doors and
jumped into my arms. We locked our lips together in a sweet embrace.

"What is it my love?" I smiled.

"We're getting out tomorrow!" he exclaimed. My heart sank.

"What!?" I was in shock.

"Brandon saw Charles today, 'member Charles, the kid that knows Mr. Hill
the social worker?" he clung to my neck.

"I remember," I replied.

"Well he said that he'll take the money we have saved up, and that'll be
enough!" he excitement was not shared.

"But I thought that you had a ways to go before you had the full amount?" I
tried to sound interested, inside I was dying.

"He said that Mr. Hill said that this is the last time he's gonna do it. He
said that he is gonna be leaving the Country after this one and that he
wanted to take all the money he could with him." he was still as bright as
before.

"I don't know Jonathan," I hated myself for playing devil's advocate, "have
you really thought about this?"

"What the hell are you talking about," his face dropped along with his body
as he now stood defensively before me.

"I just meant have you thought about how you are going to survive?" I tried
to sound as supportive as possible.

"How I'll survive?" he grew more hostile,"I don't fucking care how I'll
survive! I just care that I'll be outta here!"

"But what about Jack?" I raised my tone somewhat, "how will he survive? You
and your friends can get by on the streets, but he's only five! Is that the
life you want for him? Selling his body to get food? You know what those
perverts will do to him!"

"You mean those perverts like you!" he scolded,"you're not my fuckin' Dad!
You're just another pervert who pays to fuck little boys!"

"Jonathan!" I shouted, scaring him, "I am not one of those guys and I have
never treated you like a whore. I just don't want you to get hurt. I know
that you can take care of yourself. But how will you get by when you don't
have a place to go home when you're done making money?"

"Fuck you man..." he was trembling with anger, "I'm not hearing anymore of
this shit. You just want me to stay at that hell hole so that I can be here
for you to fuck! Well...fuck you!"

"Jonathan!," I shouted to him as he ran back through the suite, "Jonathan!
Come back!"

But he was gone. I collapsed onto a chair by the pool. I lowered my head to
my hands and fought back tears until I could not fight anymore. I wept for
my boy. Why had I been so forceful? Why had I not tried to talk to him more
patiently?

"Sir has had words with the young one?" Xin Mae handed me a glass of vodka.

"I think that he's gone forever," I slammed down the drink in a single
gulp.

"Perhaps Sir wishes me to go after the boy?" she stood before me.

"No," I spoke from within my hands, "let him go."

"As Sir wishes," she turned and went back inside.

Perhaps it was better this way. How could I hope to change this child's
life. He was right. I didn't want him to leave me. But I knew that that
would mean that he would have to stay in that dump Wells Home, and he would
die there. There was nothing I could do. He was right, I was not his
father, I was just another pervert who liked to fuck him. Bullshit! I was
not like the other men in his life. I truly cared for this child, and for
his brother Jack. I would do anything to protect him and give him the life
he had never dreamt possible. I was filled with an overwhelming sense of
love for my young angel. I would protect him; even from himself.

"Xin Mae!" I shouted into the air.

"Yes Sir?" she rushed out to the deck.

"We have work to do!"


______________________________________________________________________


"Are we almost there yet?" Jack asked for the third time as he struggled to
keep with his brother and the other boys.

"I told you five minutes ago!" Jonathan had grown impatient with his
brother's nagging.

"Sorry," Jack panted as he held onto Jonathan's hand.

The pack weaved in and out of foot traffic as they made their way towards
the train yard in the distance. Each boy had a small back pack slung across
one shoulder. Inside they had stuffed everything they held dear. It was
hard to determine which was walking who, the backpack or Jack. The boys
left the scatterings of buildings behind them as the hopped across tracks
and muddled through the gravel. As they approached the abandoned warehouse
where they were to meet Charles and Mr. Hill, they paused to catch their
breath. They made it to the door to the broken down building and were met
by a waiting Charles.

"You're late!" Charles scolded.

"Sorry," Brandon spoke for the group, "we got a little lost downtown.

"I'm just fuckin' with you dude!" he laughed. The boys chuckled, but were
too nervous to really join Charles' fun.

Once inside they saw a tall, thin man standing next to a beat up chevy
van. They lined up in front of the man they assumed was Mr. Hill and waited
for him to speak.

"So boys," he began, "I assume you'll want to see the proof of your release
from the State's custody before we exchange monies.

Brandon and Jonathan followed him over to the back of the van where a
folder containing the verified documents lay open for their
inspection. They scanned over the papers, neither of them really knowing
what they were really looking at. When they were satisfied, they returned
to the others.

"Everything's in order then?' Mr. Hill asked.

"Looks good to me," Brandon tried to sound like he knew what he was talking
about.

"Then we have a deal?" Mr. Hill motioned to the bag of money in Brandon's
hand.

"Yep," he threw the bag over to the man.

Mr. Hill took a look through the bag and smiled at Charles. Charles then
told the boys to get into the van.

"What?" Brandon asked cautiously.

"You heard me," Charles pointed towards the back of the van, "hop in."

"Why?" Owen asked.

"You didn't think we'd leave you to just wander around the city and get
picked up by truant officers did you?" he chuckled, the van roared to a
start, "we'll get you out of the city, then you're on your own."

"That's ok," Brandon spoke up, "we've got our own plans."

"Yeah," Max chimed in nervously, "thanks anyway."

"Fuckin' hell," Charles complained, pulling a gun from behind his back,
"get in the FUCKIN VAN!"

The boys jumped back in terror as Charles waved the 45 caliber pistol at
them. He pointed towards Max and Simon and then at the van.

"What the hell is going on here?" Jonathan demanded as Jack began to cry.

"What's going on?" Charles grabbed Max and threw him in the back of the
van.

"What's going on!?" he shoved Owen and then Simon in behind Max.

"What's going on is that you and your friends aren't fuckin' going anywhere
except on this van!" he laughed.

"And shut him the fuck up!" Charles yelled at Jonathan to stop his
brother's now hysterical crying.

"Why are you doing this?" Brandon asked in a panicked voice.

"You'll find out soon enough," he smirked and then a look of rage fell over
his face, "and I said to shut...him...up!"

With that Charles struck Jack in the head with the butt of the gun sending
him to the ground in a violent thud.

"I'LL KILL YOU, YOU SON OF A BI...!" Jonathan lunged for the older boy. But
he was faster and grabbed Jonathan by the throat shoving the muzzle of the
weapon into his mouth. Blood began to pour out of the young boy's gaping
mouth and out around the gun.

"ENOUGH!" Mr. Hill had gotten out of the van to check on the delay,"get
them in the fucking van you idiot! And stop damaging the merchandise!"

Charles ordered Brandon to pick Jack up and put him in the van. Brandon did
as he was ordered and picked Jack up, blood now trickling from the gash in
his forehead, the boy limp...but breathing.

"Now you miserable little fuck," Charles had not yet removed the gun from
Jonathan's mouth, "you're gonna get on this van and you're gonna sit there
and not say a fucking word. Or I promise you, you'll be a fuckin' ghost by
nightfall!"

_____________________________________________________________________________

"I was afraid of this," I flipped through the papers in the file Xin Mae
had gathered on Charles and Mr. Hill.

"Mr. Hill isn't a social worker," I continued, "in fact he hasn't worked
for the Department in two years."

"Mr. Reginald Hill was a computer programmer who had been contracted by the
Department of Child and Family Services to design and implement the new
database system that has been getting them so much attention. He must have
designed it so that he could have remote access to the secure server
without being logged. So he checks the system every once in a while and
finds the boys that fit the profile he's after. See, look at the files of
Jonathan , Jack, and the others. They are all completely free from their
parents. Some are dead, and in the case of Jonathan and Jack, the father's
disappeared and the mother has had her rights taken away. So really, no one
would miss them if they just vanished. He has access to everything on them,
dental, medical, case notes. He's knows everything the department does
about these kids. If he's as good as I think he is, he can pick out the
ones who will go along with his scam."  I took a breath before continuing.

"So he picks the boys, then he sends Charles in to sell them all on the
scam," I was growing more and more angry with each passing moment, "and
then he sells them."

"The word on the streets is that he splits them up and sends them to buyers
around the country, who in turn sell them to foreign markets," Xin Mae
added, "he's getting around 50k a piece for them. I have checked his
financial statements and they do not reflect the income. So he is using the
black market bank to hold his capital. According to my sources in Chicago,
he has been averaging about 5 to 7 children a run, with four runs total
since he began two years ago.He's been using the train yard to move the
children through"

"Four runs at a 1/4 million a piece can buy a lot of silence." I paused to
catch up with the swirling thoughts in my head.

"Sir is very correct," Xin Mae acknowledged, "I paid my contacts 300k for
this information."

"We are running out of time," I rubbed my forehead, "in order to keep
something like selling children hidden and protected, he'd have to have the
blessing of Don Sangiovanni."

"That is correct Sir," Xin Mae nodded.

"But Don Sangiovanni will be hard pressed to give up Hill if he has paid
tribute and has been given protection," I closed my eyes.

"Yes Sir,"

"We don't have a choice Xin Mae," I opened my eyes and shoved the file into
my briefcase, "reach out to Don Sangiovanni and set up a meeting, It is 1pm
now which gives us two hours to convince the Don to give up Hill and stop
them before my boys are lost forever."

"As you wish Sir," Xin Mae retreated to the living room of the suite and
began making calls.

I was filled with urgency. My boys were in peril and I couldn't help them
yet. Their meeting with Hill was at 3pm, but we had no information as to
where that was, Xin Mae's sources, while well paid and free with good
information, were in Chicago and so they only knew about the Chicago
locations. I would have to be able to convince the Don to break his oath of
protection regarding Hill, a feat not easily done in the world of organized
crime.

"Sir," Xin Mae broke through my inner struggle, "I have called for the
helicopter. It will be on the roof in ten minutes. The Don will gladly give
you audience at 2:30pm. I expressed the urgency and he regrets that he will
not be free until that time."

"Fuck!" I hissed, "that gives us no time...no time! We will not be spared a
second."

We left the room and met the helicopter on the roof and made our exit into
the mid day sun.

____________________________________________________________________________


"All right," the van came to a halt, Jonathan could feel it slide a little
and figured that they must be on gravel, "stay put and I'll be right around
to get you boys out."

Mr. Hill jumped out of the van and slammed the door behind
himself. Jonathan glared at Charles who remained in the passenger seat, his
eyes never leaving Jonathan's and his hand planted firmly on the butt of
his gun. The back doors flung open and light flooded the cargo area. The
boys shrunk back and covered their eyes at the blazing sun as it poured
in. Jack was awake now and the boys had managed to get the bleeding to stop
from his forehead. The tiny cut would need stitches and Jonathan knew that
it would probably not be done anytime soon. Two large men stood on either
side of Mr. Hill. The men grabbed the boys one by one and hand cuffed them
together. The line of boys was then walked to the edge of a runway leading
up into a box car. At Mr. Hill's signal the boys were taken on board the
train and propped up against the side. Jack moaned lightly and Jonathan
knew that his head must be in terrible pain. Jack had however, learned not
to cry. Charles jumped on board and tripped over a loose floor board. He
crashed down upon the floor and Simon let out a laugh.

"Think that's funny you little prick bastard!?" before anyone could react
the older boy was on his feet and lunging towards the pack of boys. With a
single fluid motion, he kicked Simon in the chest, doubling him over
instantly.

"Charles!" Mr. Hill shouted, "what the fuck did I tell you about damaging
the goods!? Now sit the fuck down before you ruin my whole shipment. I'm
already gonna have to waste the little one. No one's gonna take him with
his face all black and blue." Jonathan looked at his brother, his face had
begun to swell and redden.

"But the little sh..."

"Sit the fuck down!" Hill grew more and more angered.

"Where are you taking us?" Brandon asked,

"You'll see my boy," he smiled, "I'll explain it all to you very soon."

"I wanna go home," Simon whimpered, still holding his chest.

"This is home now little one," the train began to roll, "next
stop....Chicago!"

______________________________________________________________________________


"Il benvenuto, da il benvenuto il mio vecchio amico," Don Sangiovanni's
booming voice greeted us we entered his low light office.

It was somewhat cliche I must admit, but his office was located in the
penthouse of the Grand hotel in downtown Chicago. It was beautifully
decorated with fine paintings and trimmed in brass, not that you could
really appreciate them as you fought to focus in the scarce light. Don
Sangiovanni was an old man, wise and very powerful, but old. He was
bothered by bright light and spent most of his time cursing its warm
glow. He sat behind a large oak desk, slowly romancing a fine Cuban cigar,
his short and plump son Anthony at his side. Anthony was a loathsome, but
mainly harmless, toad of a man. He would someday take over The Family, I
thought I knew must have kept the Don awake many nights.

"Thank you for seeing us Don Sangiovanni," I motioned for Xin Mae to wait
in the outer office.

"È nessuno guasto,no trouble my old friend," he smiled, "what is it that
I can do for you today?"

"I'm afraid I have come to ask a difficult favor of La Famiglia, Don
Sangiovanni," I began, "my business deals with a Mr. Reginald Hill."

"The kiddie sex guy?," Anthony slurped.

"I know that he has paid tribute to La Famiglia and is under your
protection," I ignored him.

"That's the guy that sells the little boys right Pop?" Anthony continued to
interrupt, his father waved him silent.

"This man, una malattia," he drew on the cigar, its crimson tip glowing,
"is allowed to operate within my city. He has indeed paid il tributo"

"I understand that this will be difficult Don Sangiovanni, but he is now in
possession of cargo that is very dear to me."

"He's got what?" Anthony again interjected, his father gritting his teeth
somewhat at the rudeness.

"I don't have much time Don Sangiovanni," I said with urgency, "he has my
boys and I need to stop him before they are gone forever."

"Your boys!?" Anthony grunted in disbelief, steadying himself on the desk,
"Fuck me, I didn't know you was into little boys..."

" Abbastanza con la sua bocca," he slammed the burning cigar down onto his
son's hand, "lei me disonora lei bassamente il maiale!!!"

Anthony let out a blood curdling scream as the lit cigar burned into his
plump flesh. He grabbed his hand and began to get up, I presumed to go get
some ice. His father stopped him.

"L'ha nessuno rispetto? You disgrace La Famiglia with your lack of
respect!" he slapped the back of his son's head, "now, il mio peso, sit
there and let it burn!"

"Forgive my son old friend," he lit another cigar and puffed it to life,
"he knows little about respect."

"It is forgiven Don Sangiovanni," I knew if I minimized the rudeness trying
to lessen Anthony's actions, that it would be even more disrespectful.

"This thing you ask," he blew a slow ring of smoke,"how can it be done?
Mr. Hill, a loathsome pig of a man I assure you, has paid for my
protection, and paid well. If I give him over to you, I violate that
trust. If I do such a thing, how will I keep the trust of everyone else who
depends on me?"

"I know that I am asking too much Don Sangiovanni," I was struggling back
my emotions as I pictured my boys being harmed by Hill and Charles, "but I
love my boys like a father, and as such I will give my life to protect
them."

"La facilita la sua anima il mio vecchio amico," he smiled, "I will
consult my consigliere, and perhaps we can come to your aid."

An old man in a black suit leaned down to the right ear of the Don. I
glanced over at Anthony who was white as a ghost and sweating profusely. I
felt for him. Don Sangiovanni waved the old man from his ear and a smile
grew across his face as he took a long draw from his cigar and blew the
smoke out into the room. The old man cleared the room of the men standing
watch. Soon it was only myself, Anthony , and the Don. The old man returned
quickly with a bucket of ice for Anthony's hand.

"You see my old friend," he smiled, "all can be well. As it is seen by my
consigliere, La Famiglia has done business with you for many, many
years. We have mutually benefited from each others assistance and hope to
do so for many more years to come. Mr. Hill has threatened to disturb this
relationship by taking something from you, something I do believe you to
hold very close to your heart. Therefore. by his actions, he has threatened
La Famiglia and will be acted against."

"La mia vita nella gratitudine," I felt my eyes glass over.

"Nessuno bisogno il mio vecchio amico," he smiled, "besides, I too have
known the company of young boys and understand your devotion to them."
Anthony, who was getting his color back, snapped to his father's words.

"Ahh yes my old friend," he got up and stood behind his son, bent down and
kissed his cheek, "there was a time when my little angel and I played such
wonderful games."

"Sono il Papa cosi dolente, me perdona per favore," Anthony wailed.

"No, no, no il mio bel ragazzo di angelo," I had never seen the Don be kind
like this before, "I hurt you, and I ask your forgiveness."

I left the office and waited in the outer room. To be honest, between the
heavy smoke, the smell of burnt skin, and the vulnerability of the Don, I
was feeling very ill at ease. A moment later the Don and Anthony
emerged. Just as he did, Xin Mae entered the room followed by a man dressed
in black.

"Ah Paulo," he acknowledged the man, "molto buono"

"This is my nephew Paulo old friend," he explained,"he will assist you in
getting back what is yours as well as finishing the business with this
Mr. Hill."

"My crew is waiting outside," Paulo was much more refined than his cousin,
"we have located the train and can be there when it arrives if we leave
now."

"I cannot thank you enough for you acts of kindness Don Sangiovanni," I
bowed my head before il padre della famiglia.

"Go now my old friend," his expression grew sharp, "go now and take back
what is yours!"

We headed out of the room and into a freight elevator. On our way down,
Paulo explained that he had arranged for two SUV's to escort me, and the
boys to a private airfield just outside of the city. Xin Mae would be
waiting their with a chartered jet to take us out of the country. He went
on to explain that La Famiglia had taken care of arranging our flight
clearances with their people at the FAA. We exited the building and I
parted company with Xin Mae to join Paulo and three giant men, all in
black, in a full size limousine. We sped off for the train yard and I could
feel my heart in my throat.

______________________________________________________________________________


By now Jonathan had managed to totally calm his little brother who was
laying on his lap. The other boys never spoke but all shared a common
fear. The train roared on for what seemed like an eternity. The sounds of
the city gave way to the silent passage of the midwest
countryside. Jonathan thought that under other circumstances the trip would
have been exciting and full of new sights and sounds. Instead it was
riddled with nervous anticipation for the fate the waited for them in
Chicago. The silence of the country fell sharply to the heavy sounds of
Chicago as the train barreled through the outlying areas on its way to the
southside train yard.

"Alright you little pricks," Charles snapped as the train finally lurched
to a stop, "get up and get out!"

The boys helped each other up and walked in a malformed line down the
runway to the hard gravel below. The whistle of the engine startled them as
they were loaded into another van and driven into yet another broken down
loading dock.The boys watched as Mr. Hill nervously kept time while sifting
through papers.

"Ok boys!" he announced, "time to get your assignments."

"That's right boyos," Charles snickered, "time to find out what fine
location you'll be working your asses in."

"Shut up Charles," Hill tired of him as well, "let's see now...yes, Brandon
and Max, you'll be off to sunny Georgia, Simon, Jonathan and ...yes, Owen,
you'll be sent up north to Canada to work the tourist trade in Toronto."

"What about the little one?" Charles was less cocky this time.

"Well you've spoiled him haven't you Charles," Hill pointed to the gash on
the little boys head, "so he's useless to sell. Get the rest of them on
their trains and we'll get rid of him before we head out."

"What the fuck are you talking about you son of bitch!" Jonathan shouted,
"where are you taking my brother!?!"

"We're not taking him anywhere boy," Hill smirked, "we're gonna put a
bullet in his head and leave him here!"

Jonathan lunged for Hill and caught an immediate fist to his head as
Charles was just waiting for the boy to make a wrong move. The two men who
had been silent throughout this exchange moved in and pulled Charles off of
the boy before he could do anymore damage. Brandon and Owen held onto
Jonathan as Jack began to cry again and cling to his shaken brother.

"I told you to shut up before you whiny little shit!" Charles yelled at the
small child, "now you're fuckin' dead!"

"That'll be quite enough," Paulo commanded as we came upon the scene.

"Who the fuck are you!?" Charles blurted out.

"Shut up Charles!" Hill shouted as he made eye contact with Paulo.

"What!?!" Charles just didn't get it, "who the fuck are you, and why the
fuck are you just standing there?" Charles demanded an explanation of the
two large men who now stood silent.

"You'll do well to close your mouth boy if you want to be able to breath
out of it in the future," Paulo dismissed him.

"Fuck you, you dumb mutha fu....AAARRRGGGGAAAAHHHH!!!," Charles screamed as
the large man on his left took a metal baton from his waist and brought it
down upon the smart mouth's knee cap, shattering it and sending him to the
ground in a heap.

"What are you doing!?!" Hill was shocked by the sudden blow," you work for
me!"

"No sir," the other man spoke, "yous hired us, we work for La Famiglia!"

"What is the meaning of this Paulo!?" he was starting to lose it, "I pay
tribute, I have you r Uncle's blessing to do business in this city!"

"Yes you do," Paulo nodded as he took his gun out from the side
holster,"but you see Mr. Hill, when you took these boys, you stole from a
very important friend of my Uncle's. When you did this disgrace, you
violated that tribute because you in essence, stole from La
Famiglia. Therefore, your tribute is shamed and no good within this city
anymore."

"What the hell are you talking about. I didn't steal from anybody! These
are just fucking street whores!"

With that, another scream and another crushed knee cap. Now both men lay in
writhing pain on the ground. I stepped out of the shadows and ran to my
boys. I threw my arms around Jonathan and Jack and tears began to
flow. Soon all of the boys were in my arms and I took a moment to calm them
and let them no that it was over.

"You and your boys get going now," Paulo instructed as he put on a pair of
black leather gloves, "you have all of the time in the world for that now,
but our time here is limited and we have work to do."

"Thank you Paulo," I nodded, "give my thanks to Don Sangiovanni again."

He nodded and I scooped the boys up and called for the two large men to aid
me in freeing their hands. Once free I took Jonathan in my arms again and
we hugged tightly. We started to head out when we all turned around and
watched as Jack walked up to Charles, pulled his penis out, and pissed all
over the battered young man. When he finished he smiled at Paulo, who
returned the gesture, smiled at me and then slammed his tiny foot down on
top of Charles' knee. The crippled boy screamed in agony as Jack walked
back over to us. We all just looked at him as he smiled and then led the
way out.

We made our way to the SUV's and the boys chose to pile inside the same
one, not that I blamed them. As I stood at the door I heard Simon ask if it
was really over.

"Yes sweetheart," I smiled compassionately, "it's over."

"Are you sure?" he was still very shaken and tearing.

Without warning a flurry of gun rapports screamed through the air.

"Yes son," I got into the truck, "I'm sure!"

_________________________________________________________________________

To be continued.....

Positive emails and thoughts may be sent to jsl2k4@hotmail.com

~JSL