Date: Wed, 26 Nov 2008 20:34:58 -0500 From: chris james Subject: On the Wire, Chapters 8 & 9 Dear Reader:adult content, under 18 not permitted to read this material. He was on the evening news, face electronically obscured, and he told the reporter he was only twelve. I don't know how they had found him, but he seemed almost proud to be the youngest hustler on the block. "I make two...three hundred on a good weekend, that's a lot of cash." I knew him, his oldest brother had worked for me the previous year. I was terribly sad to see him like this, so proud, so defiant. He worked the street just one day too many and they caught him, locked him up, took him away from his family. I never found out what happened to him... really sad. This story is dedicated to G.M., wherever you are today. All comments welcome. Chris James drmeta4@gmail.com On the Wire (M/B) Chapter Eight One by one the boys appeared in the kitchen around noon looking for something to call breakfast. Nina had already set out a little buffet on the counter; cereals and fruit, juice and milk and a freshly baked pan of cinnamon rolls. Tim and Andrew had been brought home at nine that morning and were allowed to sleep in a while longer. Austin told each boy that there would be a group meeting in the lounge at one o'clock. He had told John of the meeting and had said he would handle it. The man seemed only too pleased not to be involved; he would have enough on his hands once Jack arrived. A few minutes before the meeting Austin went to make sure Tim and Andrew were up. He poured himself another cup of coffee and headed upstairs. Kevin was back at work so Austin just headed down the hall to the lounge and found everyone waiting. There was no point in beating around the bush so he got right into it. "Thanks guys, I know some of you are still tired but we need to talk," Austin said. All eyes were on him now and he smiled. "There have been some problems in the past few weeks as I'm sure most of you know. Well it's become something we have to deal with now for your protection." He explained the penetration of the site and the cops interest in their photos, describing how that left them vulnerable. As Kevin had suggested, Austin approached it as an attack on their business. He didn't want the boys scared into leaving; he wanted them to join in the defense. "So you're going to meet someone very important this afternoon, Mr. G will be here to talk with you." There was a great deal of surprise at that and Austin used it to rally the troops. "He will be here to decide what we can do. Kevin and I already have a few suggestions, but you will have to make the choices." Austin looked around the room and caught various levels of response. They were all in the game for different reasons but the general feeling seemed to be that they wanted it to continue. "The away team has the greatest risk and so our solution for that would be to ask if you guys would be willing to stay on here. We would approach your parents for permission. In talking with most of you there doesn't seem to be any great attachment to what's going on at your schools, am I right?" Most of them nodded in agreement. Whether open about their feelings or not, most of these boys felt their difference when around other kids at school. Brandon and several others identified themselves as gay, the rest just kept away from discussing it. But Austin felt it was time for some self revelation, something the others could identify with. "I didn't understand myself at all until I was about twelve. I was labeled a faggot at school and went through hell for it. My parents and brother never left me alone until one day I found Golden Hand. You guys all know what happened after that, I ran away from home. "Kevin reached out to me and I came here. I already knew I would have to support myself by going out with clients. That seemed a better life than what I left behind. We're all here for different reasons and I respect each of you. I just want to hear it from you...do you still want to be here?" Austin looked at each boy and one by one they each gave him a nod...there was not a single dissent. He smiled in return, that was settled. "Thank you, it's good to know we still have a team. There will have to be some changes, the first being you will each have to choose a roommate. We will be getting a tutor in to work with you so that you don't fall behind at school. Summer vacation starts in two months so the lessons won't last forever. "Now when Mr. G gets here there will be a general talk, and then one by one he'll meet with each of you guys to see what you think might be the best way to approach your parents about this." Brandon snickered. "He'll need his checkbook, that's all my mom cares about." "You think the cops are gonna show up at my school?" Tim asked. "Yes, it's the most likely way they have of reaching you," Austin said. "Cool," Tim grinned. "I'm an outlaw." "Won't they just come to my house looking for me?" Steve asked. "And what will your mother say to them?" Austin asked. "Um...she'll say I'm on a field trip. Oh, but they know I'm not don't they? My mom doesn't really want to know what I'm doing. She asked me once if I was doing anything illegal and I said yes, I was joining the mob." There was laughter around the room but Austin could see several boys were worried. "And what would you say to a cop if he did corner you?" he asked. "I'd just say that someone stole my identity off a Myspace account, people steal photos all the time like that," Steve said. "Would that work?" Josh asked. "For a while, long enough to confuse them anyways," Steve replied. "My mom won't give them a straight answer either. Why the fuck don't they just leave us alone?" "Because what we do is illegal, Stevie. They don't really want us, they want the clients, that's what this is all about," Jerry said. "He's right," Austin said. "We have to protect the clients no matter what. I'm afraid that we'll have to stop letting you guys go out in public with clients too. Only private dates from now on." "Aw, that sucks...we have fun goin places," David said. "Well I suggested we might start throwing some parties here, or arrange a group outing to a private place. How about a trip to the beach or something?" Austin said. "Wow, that would be fun," David said, "I've never seen the ocean." "One of my clients has a yacht, he even suggested a group cruise to me," Brandon said. "I didn't think he was serious." "I could dye my hair and look different," Kyle suggested. "These are all good ideas guys. We all put our heads together and I know we can beat the cops," Austin said. He just wasn't sure he meant that. "What about some new faces?" Steve asked. "Kevin's working on that," Austin said. "You get to break them in?" Brandon asked. "Not if you volunteer to do it for me," Austin said. "Are you?" "No way," Brandon laughed. He smiled. "But you aren't like...well the last guy." The boys all laughed at Austin's obvious embarrassment. He'd accomplished what needed doing; the boys were united behind him. "Remember guys, think about a roommate. I'd much rather you work it yourselves, OK?" The meeting over, some went looking for more food, while others went back to their rooms to shower. Austin went to tell Kevin the results but Brandon asked if they could talk. "This roommate thing," he began. "I know Josh is gonna want to be with David, they have a thing goin on." "Yes, I got that," Austin said. "There's an odd number now, how do you feel about having your own room for a while?" "That would be awesome, can I?" "I think so, at least until we get a new boy, then we might have to change that. I'll tell John, ok?" Brandon threw his arms around Austin's neck and kissed him. There were a few whistles from the guys remaining in the lounge and Brandon blushed, but he went away happy. Too much of this adoration might just go to my head, Austin thought. He went to tell Kevin the news. Jack would be there soon. * * * * * The squad assembled at nine o'clock in the morning even though Alan wasn't sure what they had accomplished by staking out the houses. He started off by sharing the call he'd received from Austin. The information that Bucky might have been a killer seemed to hit them hardest. "And the little fucker walked out of here," Brett said. "Guess he didn't get too far if the boy says he's dead." "He was told that, he doesn't know for sure," Alan replied. "What do make of this 'Jack' thing, an intentional slip of the tongue?" Wilson asked. "Maybe...he's just a confused kid at this point. I can just about feel the struggle going on inside his head every time we talk. Someone caught him talking to me and I hope that doesn't change the dynamic wherever they are. But each call seems to get us closer to the truth. We need to create a higher level of chaos for this Kevin character, I want to break him." "Can't we invade the site?" Brett asked. "We're already locked out. Perky Guy is off the list," Mike said. "But I did get a handle on their internet provider, it's up in Canada." "That makes it international, the Feds can help us with that," Wilson said. "See if you can make enough noise to get that link severed, Kevin will freak out," Alan said. "Lie if you have to, I'll clean up the mess later." "What about the surveillance, do we stick to the houses?" Brett asked. "I don't suppose anyone remembers anything useful?" Alan asked. "I cruised the neighborhood for a while, nothing occurred to me," Mike said. "What about going into the schools?" Wilson asked. "Now there's a can of worms," Brett said. "Last resort...but we might get to it," Alan said. "I mapped out the homes and the schools trying to find something in common and came up with zilch." "So far it's been action and reaction," Wilson said. "They stay one step ahead, probably because what we're doing is predictable. What do you think their next step will be? I mean, they discovered us on their site, which means their gallery is compromised, they know that." "Then they know we'll run surveillance on the boy's homes and schools. How do they counter that?" Alan asked. "Keep all the horses in the corral," Brett said. "It's a defensive posture." "But that puts them out of business too, it's unworkable for them. They still have to arrange meetings with their clients and there are a millions private places for that to occur," Mike said. "So we spread our photos around and ask, 'Have you seen this boy?'" Alan said. "Take the battle to the clients, which ought to unnerve some of these people." "Some wealthy people for sure, the ones with influence," Wilson said. "It will rattle the cages in more than a few penthouses I imagine," Brett said. 'Someone is bound to talk," Alan said. "A doorman, a waiter, someone that doesn't get a big enough tip at Christmas, whomever...lets crank up the pressure and see what happens." 'I'll make a flyer of their gallery to put out on the street," Mike said, and he returned to his desk. "You think they'll turn turtle and pull their collective heads in?" Brett asked. "They almost have to, how else can they continue to operate?" Alan asked. "Bring the clients to the boys. That would put them in the brothel business, safer than what they're doing now," Wilson said. "Taking the boys all over town has always been their biggest risk." "But the kids have to attend school," Brett said. "I bet if any of them doesn't show up for class on Monday we'll have our answer." "Good point," Alan said. "Let's get a list of those who skip school on Monday and put pressure on the parents to give us an answer for that absence." "Jeez, Alan, how are we going to justify that?" Wilson said. "It's likely to be construed as harassment." "I think what we have is enough to prove illegal activity, at least by the boys. What the parents think doesn't matter, if they know they'll make up lies. See if we can get search warrants, look for some connection to the internet site, and seize their computers, we'll find something there." "Oh yeah, full on attack mode, I love it," Wilson said. "Shake the trees and see what falls out, got it," Brett said. "I'll get the warrants started." "I'm tired of coming in second, that's all," Alan said. * * * * * Kevin stood beside Jack at the end of the living room. The boys were all spread out around the room, curious eyes focused on the man they had just met. "Kevin tells me good things about each of you." Jack said. 'You know we have a crisis on our hands and I'm glad to hear you've been coming up with ideas on your own. I'd be a fool if I didn't recognize that this business exists because of you and the way that you entertain the clients. "It seems you all want to stay in the game so I'll have to make the arrangements with your parents. Handing them more cash is probably a temporary solution, but in the long term I'm going to make sure each of you gets rewarded too. You boys are all too aware of the risks involved here. "With an eye to the future we have invested some of your money. So just in case something might happen I want you to know your money is safe. Kevin will give each of you a bank book this afternoon to show you where your money is kept. You can continue to make deposits, but with that book you can go to the bank and withdraw a portion of your savings, or all of it if you wish. "I believe we will weather this crisis, but just to be on the safe side I want you to have an out. To help you in this I am going to deposit five hundred dollars each week into your accounts for as long as you continue to stay with us." There were smiles around the room and even Austin was surprised at Jack's apparent generosity. But he also understood this was very much a bribe to keep the boys on board. It was a smart business move. "Now Austin has told me what you boys discussed earlier and I think it's workable. John doesn't seem to mind having a few clients visit here and so we shall begin to offer that option. I also think away trips are in order. I'm going to arrange a trip to the Atlantic City beach for June, soon as it warms up. I bet the clients will be thrilled to take advantage of the casinos...I know they'll be dying to see you guys in bathing suits too." Jack looked around the room and saw nothing but smiling faces. He couldn't tell the boys about the pressure he was receiving from a couple of clients who worked downtown. The police involvement was making several people very nervous. But John would meet with several of their best clients this very evening; those fears had to be alleviated. He'd considered letting this group go and recruiting others. One idea had been floated suggesting he fly boys in from other cities for the weekend, but the cost would be enormous. Somehow these kids had decided to stick together and that sense of loyalty had overridden his fears. He knew Austin was responsible for holding the team together. A lot of clients had agreed on the no public exposure changes. There would be a lot of quiet dinners arranged for next weekend. Over all the clients had proven flexible, they had to be to get what they wanted. He probably should have doubled the rates in reaction to the risks, but he didn't, not yet anyway. Pressure would be brought to bear on that police squad who was after them. It was just a matter of time before the politics of the situation steamrolled over the legal issues. But from what he'd been told this morning, the cops were no closer to finding them. That was the best news he'd heard all year. The meeting broke up and Jack decided to hang with the boys for a while just to catch a sense of how they were reacting to all this change. They shot some pool and watched some music videos on cable, things the boys themselves suggested. Dinner was served promptly at six-thirty and for once the boys didn't have to worry about going out for the evening. Dress was casual, but the food sure wasn't. Nina pulled out all the stops for Jack's visit and they were served a real feast. Alex helped her carry the dishes to the table and Jack watched John react to his boy. His attention was drawn to the ease with which Kevin and Austin interacted at the table. Kevin...overwrought, with dark circles under his eyes showing the strain he'd been under. The boy had taken the brunt of this assault on the business, but he had managed well the whole time. Jack could find no fault in Kevin's actions. And Austin, the boy had seemed to blossom under the pressure. He was resourceful and smart, a good match for Kevin. Jack knew he had to do something for them. If Kevin broke under the pressure then Austin would freak. The real question was...would he run? The cops knew this boy, Austin could bring the whole business down, Jack knew he could never allow that to happen. Jack made himself scarce after dinner, leaving the house after a brief conversation with Kevin. It 't that the boy was doing anything wrong, but he had decided to ask Larry to step up to the plate for a while and give the kid a break. Kevin didn't want that to happen but he understood Jack's reasons. "Two weeks, ok, a week...that's all I'm asking," Jack said. "Take Austin and go somewhere quiet, someplace private, and get some rest. John will mind the store." "I think its terrible timing, that's all," Kevin said. "The cops aren't resting." "You won't be of any use if you crash, sweetie. Just go have some fun for a few days, that's all I'm saying." "I don't know where to go." Jack thought a moment. "Here, take my keys to the Georgetown house...you remember where that is?" Kevin nodded. "There's easy public transportation at hand since you don't drive. Go see the museums, hit the movie theatres...but get some rest. I better not see Handiboi on the site either, ok?" Kevin nodded, he knew Jack was right. Austin greeted the news with much the same feeling, was the timing right? Leaving the boys in John's care wasn't his decision to make, Jack ran the show. So they packed a few things. Telling the boys that they were going off for a few days to fine tune the operations in another city was the easy part, dealing with the reactions wasn't. Kyle was the oldest and Austin put him in charge of the others. There was a good deal of anxiety from the younger ones who did not like changes. It made Austin realize how much these kids had come to depend on him, but it had to happen. Kevin needed the rest, and he did too. All thoughts of Alan vanished as Frank took them to Union Station late Sunday afternoon. Airports had cameras and security, Austin knew he could endanger them both just going out in public. They booked a sleeper for the overnight trip and at six-thirty they boarded the Capitol Limited for D.C. It wasn't surprising, but Kevin slept most of the way there. Austin managed to rouse him for an early lunch and then they arrived. The cab ride across town took them past most of the monuments and Austin stared out the window like a tourist. They would have lots of time to explore and now he wanted to see it all. The Georgetown house was light and airy, and after the long trip they both showered before walking to the Safeway on M Street for some groceries. It was Sunday night, nothing on television, and Kevin didn't even approach the computer sitting on Jack's desk. It was fairly warm outside so Kevin led him down M Street to where the shopping district began. Early spring had brought forth all kinds of oddities to this most ancient part of the city. Street minstrels and panhandlers seemed everywhere, each with their own mission to make a buck. Neither of them was old enough to get into a bar, but there was a gay coffee shop and Kevin assured Austin there was a lively gay community here. Their age and looks engendered some stares but it only caused amusement. They were home by ten, made passionate love and passed out. Day one was over. * * * * * By Monday morning Alan had a photo gallery of the boys in the hands of every cop in the city. Like they had with Bucky, the foot patrols began showing it to cab drivers, doormen and store owners across town. By eleven-thirty they had their first hit. The uniforms called it in and the squad was notified, they arrived at the Lipton Towers just as Jerry, the doorman, was being relieved for his lunch break. "There's a great place to eat up in the next block," Wilson told the guy. "Preston's? Oh, I can't afford to eat there." "Sure you can, it's our treat," Brett said with a smile. They soon discovered that Jerry was talkative, not a great quality in a doorman, but one that cops always loved. He pointed to the photos of two boys on the page. "Those are Mr. Shelby's nephews, I'm pretty sure. In fact they were here just last weekend for a visit." "And Mr. Shelby is?" Wilson asked. "Adam Shelby, he lives in 2810, that gives him a great view of the lake," Jerry said. 'And how do you know these are his nephews?" Brett asked. "He told me himself. They've been here a few times and he always greets them at the door. See I usually work the late shift, but Mel has been out with a sprained back the past week so I took his day slot too. Lots of hours means I can save up for that Hawaii vacation the Mrs. wants for our anniversary." "Aw, that's sweet, how long you been married?" Brett asked. "Thirty-two years come September," Jerry said with pride. "Good for you. So you recognize these boys and say they come here a lot, how do they arrive?" Wilson asked. "Limo this time, before that it was a cab I think. Mr. Shelby sometimes has a driver take them out for dinner right away, but then they're usually back by ten o'clock. I bet those boys wear him out pretty fast, he has to be pushing eighty." "That old, huh?" Brett said. "So did you happen to catch their names when they arrived?" "Sure, he introduced them. Let's see, the older one's name is Tim and the younger is Andrew, they call him Andy." "Is Mr. Shelby home a lot or does he go out?" Wilson asked. "Little of both. Like he mentioned to me this past Saturday that he was going to his sister's house to see the boys this coming Friday. Seems one of them has been ill and can't go out. He's such a nice guy," Jerry said. "And you don't wonder why we're asking all the questions about him and the boys?" Brett asked. "Naw, you're a cop, that's what you guys do. I just figure he's got some shifty connections, especially after that meeting he held the other night at his place." "Ah a meeting, what was unusual about that?" Wilson asked. "Just that there were all these guys in suits, elderly types most of them and they all came in limos, it was quite a show." "You recognize any of these gentlemen when you saw them?" Brett asked. "Ya sure, I've seen some of them in the papers. One's a Councilman, and then that fancy lawyer...um, I can't remember his name, but I've seen his face on the evening news. There where about six all together and they were up there for about three hours." The waiter brought their bill and Brett swiped it off the table. He gave Wilson a grin. This had been the best fishing expedition they'd had in months. Jerry was just full of information. "OK, I'm gonna let you in on a little secret," Wilson said, looking around as if he didn't want to be overheard. "Shelby is up to something, you already know that. Can't exactly divulge what we're investigating, grand jury secrets and all that. But you've been a big help Jerry, a good citizen is always vigilant." "Yeah, I keep my eyes open. You want me to watch him, Shelby I mean." "Not too close, he'll get suspicious. But if the boys arrive here again you call me, OK?" Wilson slid his business card across the table and Jerry covered it with his hand before sliding it covertly in his pocket. "You got it. Hey, thanks for the lunch, you guys are all right. But I gotta get back on duty, you know how that is," Jerry said with a wink. He got up and left, leaving Wilson and Brett at the table. "Secret grand jury, huh?" Brett laughed. "Man you had him goin there." "Well we don't want him talking to Shelby now do we? Jeez can he talk your head off. We learned a lot." "Time to go tell Alan we have a solid lead. That will make his day," Brett said. "Hey, feels pretty good to me too." If anything Alan was ecstatic. Shelby was a perfect lead and one of the boys the doorman had identified was already known to them from the school photos. "Timothy Allen Warren, age 15, DOB: September 16, 1993, no priors," Mike said, looking up from his monitor screen. "The name does have a few flags, or maybe it's the parents. There were a few domestic dispute calls responded to by uniform patrol at their address in the past three years." "Parents fighting? Wonder what about?" Alan said. "One was apparently over the boy. Hmm, July last year, medics were called in to treat him," Mike said reading the report on his screen. "Oh, drug overdose...the kid tried to kill himself. He was taken to County General, there's a follow up by Social Services. He went to counseling and...that's it, they cut him loose." "And another one slips through the cracks," Alan said. "Lord, I'd love to see that psych profile on him." "Joseph Warren, father, and get this...he's an MD," Mike said. "Probably has a lot of pills around a kid could get his hands on," Wilson said. "Little fag junkie on Poppa's pills you think?" Brett said. "Hey, keep your fucking prejudices to yourself," Mike said. "These boys aren't the criminals, they're the victims. You wanna hate someone then go find the animals that run this thing, but leave the kids out of it." Brett held up his hands in surrender. Mike didn't usually react like this and he found everyone looking at him with questions in their eyes. Alan just figured they were getting stressed over this one, but they'd have to get past it. "So who wants to tail Shelby with me on Friday night," Alan asked. Three hands went up. By Tuesday morning they knew the boys were in seclusion. A list of absent students from the Board of Education held the three names they had been tracking. One by one, the squad served the warrants at each house and that created some real turmoil. The general feeling was that the parents were stunned. The mother of one boy tried to convince them that he was away on a field trip with the Boys and Girls Club. She was politely informed that when her son returned that the he needed to come down to the central station for a chat. This was all about applying pressure to the parents, knowing that they would scream in frustration to someone over at Golden Hand. Wilson had suggested a phone tap to track their calls, Alan disagreed. This was not supposed to get the boys in trouble with their handlers, just scare them a bit. They seized three computers, two towers and a laptop. A search of the boy's desks produced little else useful, except for a small amount of marijuana. The parents were advised of their rights and it was suggested they each get some legal counsel. The opening salvo had been fired, now it remained to be seen who would feel the heat. * * * * * It was Jack who first became aware that the cops had tagged the boy's parents. The negotiation for the boys to stay on at the house had been underway since Monday, but that came to a halt when Steve's mother called back and screamed at him. Jack made it perfectly clear that the boy was just fine, and that she had given him permission to be away. She was now afraid to have the boy come home, telling him about the visit from the police. They went back and forth and it was after her suggestion that Jack keep the boy for a while when he began assuring her that she would be well paid for the inconvenience. It went much the same with the other parents. They didn't want the money flow to stop, they agreed to everything. At least they now knew which of the boys had been tagged by the cops. Jack arranged for a courier service to deliver envelopes to each house, and then sat back to watch events unfold. The week rolled on. Larry ran the operation from LA, Jack stayed on in Chicago and monitored things from his hotel suite. Kevin called once to thank him, they were having a good time in D.C. Jack decided not to say anything about the cop's latest intrusion, but he made sure Larry killed access any of their boys might have to the site. John made the arrangements for Friday night's clients since two of them would be coming to the house for their dates. The other boys would take a limo ride as usual, but not to the client's homes. Jack had booked a rental north of town on the lake for the occasion, everyone would meet there. The limos left on time at eight o'clock. Three were dispatched to pick up the clients while one took four boys to the appointed meeting place. Jack wished he'd had Austin to go along and chaperone but instead he drove over and picked up Billy, then headed north to join the party. Shelby and client number two arrived together shortly after nine o'clock. The driver pulled up in front of the house and John went out to greet them. "Adam, so good to see you again," John said, the two shaking hands. "Carlton, so nice of you to come." Carlton Desmond shook hands with John as well. As the Councilman for one of Chicago's wealthiest districts, Carlton was only too happy to have such a private place for one of his favorite activities. Shelby had introduced him to the Golden Hand some years ago and the level of their discretion had always been assuring. "Come in," John said. "I thought maybe a drink would be in order before you...um, get down to business. I think you"ll like our new bartender." Shelby liked a good Manhattan while Desmond favored a dry martini. John had taught Brandon how to mix both drinks that afternoon and the boy was behind the bar when they walked into the sitting room. Tim and Andrew greeted Shelby as if he was their long lost uncle, while Ricky shyly approached Desmond. They had never met in person; the first date arranged several weeks before after Desmond viewed the boy's photo on the site. At John's suggestion, all the boys were dressed in tank tops and tight shorts that left little to the imagination. He watched Carlton's eyes come alive as Ricky sat on the arm of the chair and gently placed a hand on the man's shoulder. Brandon served the drinks and then went back to the bar. Both Adam and Carlton watched the boy's tight little butt as he sashayed back across the room. John couldn't help but feel a stirring in his loins at Brandon's movements. Damn, the kid sure knew how to use his assets. Tim and Andrew sat on the couch with Adam sharing a quiet conversation, while Ricky sat on the arm of Carlton's chair allowing the man to fondle his thigh. John sat in admiration of the boys' attention to business, wishing he could have Alex in his lap at this very moment. But Nina had taken the boy to visit her cousins for the night. All too soon Adam rose and allowed his boys to lead him upstairs, Carlton followed shortly thereafter. "You did very well, Brandon...a great bartender in the making," John said. Brandon smiled. He'd been relieved when John had assigned him this role for the evening. Going out with clients had become a ritual he found less appealing every time he did it. It had been part of his discussion with Austin last week and he felt like the boy understood his growing reluctance. Now he felt John's eyes follow him as he cleared up the empty glasses. "Can I get you anything, John?" Brandon asked. "I suppose you could make me a Manhattan, if you please," John replied. Brandon liked the way the man looked at him, it made him feel sexy. He had been enthralled watching young Alex give this man such unbridled affection. He could see the reason why. For an older man, John seemed to be much more appealing than most of the clients he'd had to serve. He served John his drink and then lingered by the chair, smiling, waiting as John took a sip and then licked his lips. "Best drink I ever had...and definitely the sexiest bartender I ever encountered," he chuckled. "I do my best...anything else you need?" Brandon asked. John seemed to think for a moment and then looked up into the boy's face. His hand reached out and caressed the boy's shapely bottom, fingers spread as he grasped the solid flesh underneath those tight shorts. Brandon moved closer, turning so his crotch was facing John's admiring eyes. John stared at his bulging crotch and then looked back up. Brandon smiled, they understood each other...the moment was theirs. John but his glass down and stood up, his hand reaching out as Brandon took it and followed the man down the hall to his bedroom. * * * * * Alan and Mike sat in the unmarked car across the street from the tall imposing gates to the estate. The limo bearing Shelby and Councilman Desmond had driven through those same gates barely ten minutes ago... They had been early enough to see Desmond enter the Lipton Towers around seven-thirty. Maybe he was there to visit someone, Mike had commented. But when a limo arrived and the man walked back through the doors with Shelby in tow...well the shock had hit them both. "Oh Lord, now we're in for it," Mike said. "I did not need to see those two together...damn," Alan said. The limo pulled away and Alan left his parking space on the street. Wilson and Brett were two blocks up and fell in behind them as they passed. The limo moved north and turned onto Lake Shore Drive. Brett passed them as Mike fell back, allowing the other team to continue the tail. "You don't suppose they're just going out to some restaurant, do you?" Mike asked. "Some pretty fancy places up this way in the Gold Coast." "Oh? You eat out a lot around here?" Alan asked with a chuckle. "Yeah, sure," Mike laughed. "If they don't come up with that cost of living raise then I might have to moonlight as a waiter in one of these fancy shmansy places." "We knock this case in the head and we'll all see a few more dollars, I assure you," Alan replied. "Something has to give and soon, the overtime for all this is gonna break the budget...hey, looks like they're turning off up ahead." The undercover cars each had a hole drilled in the center of the tail lights making it easy to distinguish from a great distance. Mike turned off Lake Shore, following Brett who was just about a quarter mile behind the limo. Alan's radio squawked twice, Brett's signal for them to take back the lead. With all the electronics Golden Hand had at their disposal, Wilson had suggested they try and maintain radio silence. A scanner in the limo might just give away the tail if there was idle chatter between the teams. Mike punched it and sped up, passing Brett and then eased back as the limo started to encounter traffic. They lay back a block until the limo turned north again into the heart of Lincoln Park. "You think the boys are holed up in this area?" Mike asked. "Just a few blocks more and we get to a few of the larger estates...it might be in one of those," Alan said. "Figure ten boys and whatever staff they need, that would account for a large place. I don"t think we'll find this Jack character anywhere around, he's too smart to have a fixed address in some posh neighborhood." The limo turned yet again and began to slow down. Mike tapped the brakes and moved over a lane, passing the long black car. Alan squawked the radio three times and turned his head away as they passed, feigning disinterest. Brett immediately pulled over and doused his lights, noting the limo's progress up the wide street. Mike looked back as the limo pulled up to the gates of an estate and stopped. He proceeded to the corner and turned left, dousing his lights after the turn and pulling over. Alan picked up the binoculars from the seat and looked back at the limo sitting in the drive. The gates were starting to open and the car moved forward as the entry way became large enough. The tail lights disappeared from sight and he saw the gates slowly close. Mike pulled off the curb and turned the headlights back on, proceeding down the street to the intersection where he made a U-turn. They drove back slowly, passing the gates and not stopping until the tall stone walls hid them from view. Mike pulled over and turned off the engine. A few moments later Wilson and Brett appeared, walking up to the passenger's side of the car. Alan popped the rear doors and the two climbed in. "You remember to bring a ladder?" Brett laughed. "I bet they have alarms rigged all over that place," Wilson said. "We're not going in," Alan said. "What's the point?" "I have the GPS co-ordinates," Wilson said, looking at the small device in his hand. "Let's see who we have here." Mike opened his laptop and slid his wireless modem card in the slot. After he logged on Wilson gave him the co-ordinates and the Chicago Police mainframe downtown gave him an immediate answer. "John Alderman...I bet he's the lawyer that doorman Jerry saw last weekend," Wilson said. "Alderman and Cushing, that was the law firm who represented Bucky," Mike said. "And the plot thickens," Brett said. "Wow, first Shelby and Desmond...then Alderman. Sounds like a who's who of the city's famous and wealthy." "Yeah, we have a real mess on our hands, that's for sure," Alan said. "Somehow we have to get over that wall. Brett, you go take a stroll and see what its like around the perimeter." "Sure, got a dog I can borrow?" Brett asked. The joke fell flat so he got out and began his walk. "I figure we have a few hours before the limo comes back out. But I don't want to sit here for hours and do nothing. This is not the kind of place we can hang around and go unnoticed for long." Alan sighed. "Guess we don't even know if the boys are in there." "Maybe we can look over the wall...yeah, I have just the thing," Wilson said. "Let me go back and get that surveillance van the SWAT guys use..." "For this? You must be kidding, they'd spot us in a second," Mike said. "OK...OK, then how about that boom truck in Building 4. All we need is a utility pole in the right place and I can hang a camera in it...hey, and if I add a parabolic microphone we might even get sound." Wilson was excited now; he had toys to play with. "All right, I get the idea" Alan said. "But all anyone would have to do is look up and see all that sitting up there...cameras, microphones, it's too much." "Have you even seen the stuff they have these days? The whole rig would fit inside a shoe box...at least we can give it a try," Wilson said. "OK, point taken, go get the stuff...but if we have to go over that wall how do we know if there are alarms?" Alan asked. "I'll bring a detector for that too, but I bet Mike can find out pretty fast...I gotta go, give me two hours tops to get it all together," Wilson said. "Find me that pole to use while I'm gone." With Brett out walking the perimeter and Wilson heading back to the garage, Mike looked over at Alan. "You think they're in that house, don't you?" "I'd bet on it," Alan replied. Mike tapped away on the laptop, again diving into the Building Inspections files. The only thing he could find was an alarm on the house itself, but there could be illegal additions on the perimeter. It was almost eleven-thirty when Wilson returned with the truck, one of the SWAT guys was behind the wheel. Brett had found the wall to be a solid obstacle all the way around. But he'd climbed a tree and from that vantage point had seen the back of the house and the large garage off to one side. Marlow, the SWAT man, parked the truck on the south side and looked up at the utility pole Alan had chosen. It towered forty feet in the air, quite high enough to give them a view over the wall. Brett and Mike lowered the leveling pads while Wilson showed Alan the camera he'd acquired from the SWAT department. "The parabolic is only eight inches across and Marlow said the range of the microphone is about two hundred feet. It's all totally wireless, so we can plug the remote console right into the cigarette lighter in the car. The camera has a remote zoom and a 400X lens." Wilson seemed happy with his toys, and then he looked up at the pole, the nervousness apparent on his face. "You don't have to go up there, I'll do it," Alan said. Wilson laughed. "I just don't know if that bucket will haul my fat ass up there." "Then let me do it. From what I see all I have to do is strap it to the pole and point it in the right direction." Wilson showed him the view finder and the power switches. Alan climbed into the bucket and Marlow toggled the controls. The hydraulics were virtually silent as the boom extended, lifting Alan upwards beside the pole. They had chosen a spot about four feet below the power lines at the top, plenty high enough to give them a good view. Alan kept his eyes on the overhead lines. A slip of Marlow's wrist and sparks would fly if he came in contact. Fortunately there was no transformer on this particular pole. When he reached the right spot the boom stopped moving. Alan glanced towards the house. They couldn't have chosen a better spot. From here Alan could see the driveway curving off to the left down towards the gate and the front entryway was on the right. The exterior lighting from the eve of the house shown down and away towards the front door, leaving nothing to glare in the camera lens. Alan mounted the base plate to the pole with the strap and cinched it up tight. The camera was on a swivel mount, the microphone mounted below. He attached the unit to the base and powered it up. Looking through the viewfinder he centered the camera on the front door itself. Wilson assured him they could zoom in and out as needed. His hands were sweaty; the tension of the moment had assured that. Alan sighed and took one last look at the house. Austin would be in there and he felt a lump rising in his throat. Soon, he thought, soon I'll take you away from all this, sweetie. The boom lowered and Alan got out. "It's a perfect view, just what we need. Thanks, Marlow." The man laughed and they packed up. In minutes the truck was gone and the silence of the neighborhood was restored. Wilson and Alan moved the car away from the house, down a dark street towards the rear of the property. The transmitter had a range of half a mile and they were well within that. Bret and Mike returned, piling in the back seat as Wilson powered up the receiver. He hooked the laptop into the USB port and opened the media function. Now both picture and sound could be digitally recorded. "The battery is good for twenty-four hours. I'll get a spare power source up here tomorrow and we can run a wire up the pole," Wilson said. They stared at the screen as the unit powered up and saw the front door of the house clear as could be. "Ain't technology grand," Brett said. "Do we have sound?" Wilson moved a control and they heard only the sound of insects. Then a dog barked somewhere in the distance and the sound came through the speaker. "I don't know how it will sound when people talk," Wilson said. "This is fine...just fine, Wilson...put yourself in for a commendation," Alan said. Wilson laughed and then froze; the front door of the house had just opened. A man came out dressed in a chauffeur's uniform and walked over to the car. Through the speaker they heard the sound of the door open and slam shut, and then the engine was started. "Wow, that's clear as a bell," Mike said. The limo backed out of the parking slot and pulled up in front of the door. Wilson toggled the record button and they waited. * * * * * Once in John's bedroom, Brandon sprawled out on the king sized bed. He didn't know where this was all going, just that he had started something here and John seemed eager to have some fun. It had been a while since Brandon had tried to seduce a man, but it seems he still had the knack for it. John looked down on him laying there and smiled. "You're one hell of a sexy boy, my dear...but then you already know that," John said. "How much will you charge me for this?" He twisted his fingers under his nose as if he were pulling the ends of a long curling mustache. Brandon tried to look shocked, picking up on the role playing almost immediately. "Me? Oh good sir, I am just a poor unfortunate boy...I could only be grateful for your sweet attentions. Oh my, I seem so...so faint." Brandon lay back, his hand to his head as he appeared to faint, eyelids fluttering. John chuckled, rubbing his hands together as if he had evil intentions. "What have we here, a young boy in distress? He must have fainted from the heat, I must remove his clothing." He pulled the boy forward and yanked Brandon's tank top off; the shorts were gone just as quickly. The boy's body lay there clad only in a pale blue thong. Brandon was trying not to laugh, and then he heard John's belt buckle. Stepping out of his loafers, John undid his belt as he unbuttoned his shirt. There was a sudden urgency about his movements...maybe if his clothes didn't just disappear then maybe this boy would. His pants hit the floor and Brandon couldn't resist a look. John's boxers had just been tugged off when Brandon opened an eye to see the man's body. What he saw shocked him and he gasped. John's equipment was huge and the man wasn't even fully erect. My God, what have I gotten myself into, he thought? But it was too late as John lay down on him. The gentleman in John became an animal in mere seconds, tearing the thong off with his teeth. Grabbing the boy by his balls, he forced Brandon onto his stomach. The boy had one momentary look at John's face and he didn't recognize the man, instead what he saw was a beast. It all fell apart from there, the gentle seduction blown away by the violence that followed. It was as if John had lost his mind and Brandon was taken in every sense of the word. It might have been a successful coupling if John had allowed it to be that way, but he did not. There was no pleasure, only pain from the man that was supposed to be their protector. Brandon's struggles were useless, his cries unheard and then his world was a flash of pain that never seemed to end...never ending that is until John reached his climax. It wasn't supposed to be like this and yet Brandon was left sobbing in a pool of sweat and semen. Then, and only then did John seem to come to his senses, and what he realized seemed to horrify him. He tried to comfort the boy, to apologize, all to no avail. He examined the boy's anatomy and felt the guilt wash over him. The bruises and bite marks, the scratches and worse, the boy's rear seemed to be bleeding. John ran to the bathroom for a wet cloth and tried to clean the boy up best as he could. It was not the size of the tool that had damaged the boy but the way it was applied. He had simply lost his mind with passion. Little Alex was too small for such penetration and John had never felt like he could begin to hurt that boy. But Brandon was a born whore, a succulent morsel to be devoured and John had treated him like a piece of meat. There was no turning back from the consequences...someone would find out. The bleeding had stopped and John applied an antibiotic cream to the boys injured flesh, there was no cure for the damaged relationship. Brandon sobbed until he had no tears left and then his mind shut down, merciful only in allowing the boy to fall asleep. John sat in a chair across the room and sulked. What if Alex found out what he had done...what if Jack did? The bedside clock said it was nearing midnight and there were clients upstairs. He would soon have to go and take care of them, but what about the boy? Crazy thoughts crossed his mind and it wasn't the first time. He could drug the boy and call Frank in to deal with it. No, Frank was loyal but he had never been asked to cover up for one of John's indiscretions. Bucky had been different, Bucky had even killed for him. John rubbed his fingers at the sides of his head; his thoughts were driving him to it. Brandon could not be allowed to talk, he would spoil it all. There was enough Valium to make it look like an accidental overdose, but would the others believe it? The clock said midnight and John rose from the chair. He went to his closet and took down three of his silk ties from the rack. Tying Brandon hand and foot, he then pressed a stocking in the boy's mouth and used the last tie to hold it in place. He would finish this later, after the clients were gone and the boys had returned. Maybe it would even be easier if Brandon woke up and choked himself to death on that stocking. John dressed, fetching a new shirt from the dresser. He slipped back into his pants and sport coat, adjusting his hair in the mirror. Brandon hadn't moved, he couldn't. One last glance and John closed the bedroom door quietly. He would deal with the boy himself this time. John slowly climbed the staircase, going for the door behind which Adam Shelby was sure to have finished his sole orgasm of the evening. He would never grow that old, Alex would always keep him young. His physical desire for the young boy never seemed to wane, and for his part Alex knew how to do his duty in bed. The occasional fuck he allowed himself with these little tramps like Brandon always seemed to end in disaster. All of them had been hurt, damaged goods...useless trash. John shuddered at the memories, he couldn't remember the names anymore. Bucky had been a useful tool, but he was history. Alex was a joy to behold, and the love he had for that little man seemed to keep the animal at bay. The fantasy of someday making passionate love to little Alex felt like a dream. John quietly knocked on the bedroom door and waited. There was only silence from beyond the door, and then Andrew opened it, clad only in his shorts. "He passed out an hour ago," Andrew giggled. "But he had a great time while it lasted." Tim looked up from the bed where he had been watching a movie on cable. John entered the room and looked down on Shelby, the man still quite naked but sound asleep. "Should I wake him up?" Tim asked. "Why don't you boys go down to the kitchen and get a snack. I'll wake him up and help him get dressed. Don't worry, you'll see him on the way out," John said. "OK, I think his underwear is in the bathroom," Andrew said, and the boys left the room. Waking up Shelby was fairly easy, considering the recent exercise his body had endured. John fetched his clothes and allowed the man some privacy to dress as he went to see about Desmond. Ricky was sitting in Desmond's lap when he yelled for John to come in the room, they were both already dressed. The boy's face looked positively angelic and Desmond seemed almost reluctant to relinquish his grasp on the boy. There was no need to ask if he'd had a good time. They met Shelby in the hallway buttoning up his coat and he grinned when he saw Desmond holding Ricky's hand like a lover. John preceded them down the stairs, seeing the chauffeur leave the kitchen and cross to the front door. He had forgotten the man was even in the house waiting to drive the two gentlemen home. Tim and Andrew slid up next to Shelby and there was some quiet conversation. Shelby smiled and gave both boys a hug, his hands slipping something into their pockets on the sly. The boys grinned and walked him to the door. "I hope you had a good time this evening, Mr. Desmond," John said. The man barely heard him; his gaze was so intently fixed on young Ricky at his side. In a touching gesture, the boy kissed the man right on the lips and was embraced in return. "I'll be back for you, Ricky," John heard the man whisper. They walked the men out to the limo and the boys all stood waving goodbye as the car drove down to the gates. "A most successful evening it seems," John said as they watched the car leave. "Yup, we had fun while it lasted," Andrew said, and then he and Tim broke into genuine laughter. "I had a wonderful time," Ricky said. John laid a hand on the boy's shoulder. "He's a powerful man, don't you ever forget that. We have his protection and that's worth a fortune in our business. Now you boys go on inside, I have to wait for the others to return." "Yes, John," the boys chirped in unison. "I think someone is in love," Andrew threw out. Ricky smiled. "Might be, but it sure isn't with a brat like you." The boys ran in the house and John slowly followed, closing the door behind him. The others should be back within the hour, Brandon will have to wait, he thought. Andrew came bursting out of the kitchen with Ricky close on his heels. Tim followed along at a leisurely pace. "Where's Brandon?" Tim asked. "He went to bed a while ago. Try not to disturb him, if you please," John said. "Well he made one drink for Shelby and the guy didn't last half as long as he usually does. I'll have to remember that," Tim said with a grin. "Why don't you boys go up to the lounge and wind down, I'll be down here for a while," John said. The boys wandered up the stairs as John headed back towards his bedroom. It was time to force a handful of pills down the boy's throat. It ought to be pretty easy with him tied up like that. Say an hour after the pills it would be over, the boy ought to be dead by then. John went to his bedroom door and looked down the hall to the kitchen. He almost wished he'd asked Nina to stay tonight; maybe none of this dirty business would have happened. He opened the bedroom door and froze...his bed was empty. Chapter Nine The car was silent after they watched the front door of the house close. Alan felt his heart pounding in his chest. They had seen Desmond and Shelby leave the house with half naked boys waving good bye. That alone was worth the effort and they had it all recorded. But the kicker was this John Alderman saying that Desmond was their protection, and that he was important to their operation. That wouldn't go over well down at the Mayor's office once they heard it. They watched the limo head down the street, taking Shelby and Desmond home. Wilson was ecstatic, his toys worked far beyond what he'd hoped. Alan told him to go ahead with the power pack. They would install it tomorrow night. "We're coming back tomorrow night?" Mike asked. "Well I suppose we all don't have to be here," Alan said. "I will be," Wilson said. "I didn't mean that as a negative, I want to see this unfold too," Mike said. They all looked at Brett who shrugged. "Why not, I'll bring the pizza. There was the arrival of another limo just about one in the morning, and this one held four boys. The driver dropped them off and then proceeded back down to the gate; there was no sign of Alderman this time. One of the boys sat down on the steps even though the night was slightly chilly. "Sorry, guys, I just don't want this night to end. That was real fun." "Your date was pretty young, Kyle...what was he, like thirty?" "Thirty-two he said, he's Rudnick's nephew. You remember him don't you David? He's the guy that has that sky box at the arena." "Oh yeah, Mr. Wart on the Nose," David laughed. "We had fun down there. I'm gonna miss all that." "We aren't supposed to be swapping names, remember what John told us," another one of the boys said. "Aw, Stevie...Rudnuck...Redneck...hell I can't even say it," David laughed. "Joshy looks happy...you get a big tip cutie?" Kyle asked. "Yup, going straight into my PS2 fund," the boy named Joshy replied. "When do you think Kevin and Austin will be back?" David asked. "Jack said they would be home soon, a couple more days," Kyle said. "I've never been on a train ride before. I hope they have a good time in Washington. I wanna go see the Air and Space Museum someday." "I took a train to Philadelphia once, went to visit my Granny, but she died," David said. "Wonder why John didn't come out?" Stevie asked. "Maybe he fell asleep...OK, now I'm tired, let's go inside," Kyle said. "What if the door is locked?" David asked. He walked up the steps, turned the handle and the door opened. He laughed and all the boys trooped through the door. It closed behind them. * * * * * "Good Lord, Rudnick too?" Mike said after they heard the boy's comment. But Alan was focused on what he'd heard about Austin. The boy and Kevin had gone out of town and were not due back until the end of the week. Maybe Kevin had gone off the deep end? But they were due back on a train from Washington. Most importantly, the name Jack had been mentioned. Jack had to be the big boss. If they could find him then the game would be over. "Ok, the chickens are all back in the hen house for the night," Alan said. "We have a lot to work on..." The radio in the car squawked. "CS2 this is D1, do you copy?" Why the dispatcher at central was was calling him Alan didn't know, but he had to find out. "CS2, go ahead." "CS2, we have a unit that needs your urgent attention; it's an emergency they say, can they call you direct?" "Yes, give them my cell number, please," Alan said. "Roger, CS2, out." "What the hell is this?" Mike said. Alan's cell phone rang three minutes later and he looked at the number, it was a city ID. "Detective Malloy," Alan answered. A short pause. "Oh damn, I'll be right there. You stay put, hear me? My ETA is less than fifteen minutes." "Alan?" Wilson said. "They have a boy over at Northwestern Memorial who said he was raped and tied up, he said the perp's name was John Alderman...a chauffeur brought him in." Wilson and Bret scrambled for their car as Mike started the engine. All thoughts of surveillance were dropped. They had a live victim to a crime...a crime where all the other victims seemed to turn up dead. Mike turned down the street and tried to control the urge to fly. But once they reached the bottom and turned onto the highway Alan put the beacon on the roof and they fired up the siren. Brett was only a few car lengths behind as they reached the speed limit...and then kept going faster. Northwestern Memorial wasn't all that far away. If the chauffeur had dropped the old guys off then he must have become aware of the boy after that. It seemed like the only possibility. Questions begged for answers and those were down at the hospital. Twelve minutes later they pulled into the Emergency entrance and parked along the curb. Alan was out of the car in a flash and hurried across the drive to the automatic doors. An orderly looked up as he came through the door and started to object, and then he saw the gold shield. The nurse's station saw them coming and a woman came out to meet them. "You're here about the boy? The officers said you would be coming, they're down the hall in 301...follow me." Alan looked back at his guys. "Wilson, you and Mike take the uniforms, Brett you find that chauffeur, I want every detail of their evening." Alan followed the woman down the hall. He wasn't sure what he was about to see, but if the kid looked worked over then he would personally have Alderman in chains within the hour. He was angry, but more than that, he was scared for Austin. The uniforms were outside the door and they nodded at Alan?s shield. "Detective Malloy? The boy seems OK," the older uniform immediately said. Maybe it was the look on Alan"s face, but the guy had done the right thing. Alan calmed himself down. "What happened?" Alan asked. "The chauffeur, one Michael Brooks, brought the victim here at twelve fifty-three this morning. The boy it seems had stowed away in the trunk of the limousine while it was at the residence of John Alderman. Mr. Brooks had delivered two gentlemen to their place of residence and was on his way back to the garage when he heard a thumping at the rear of the vehicle. He stopped and opened the trunk. "Um, Detective...I have kids his age, he's only fourteen...this is kinda hard for me to say." The man cleared his throat. "He reported to Mr. Brooks that he had escaped from the house after Mr. Alderman raped him and tied him up. Brooks immediately took off his uniform jacket and covered the boy...the kid was nude. Brooks put him in the car and drove here. The desk clerk called us in; we have the overnight patrol here." "Good work, guys. How is he "Alan asked. "He has lacerations and scratches, the doctor examined him just a short while ago...his anus is torn, he was brutally raped. They did a rape kit on him." The uniform had tears in his eyes and Alan understood. "That's all for now, I'll let you talk to my guys over there," Alan pointed them towards where Wilson and Mike stood patiently waiting for their turn. Alan stepped to the doorway of 301 and looked inside. It was with relief that he didn't immediately recognize the boy, and then the name came to him...Brandon. There was a nurse inside but she saw the badge and decided to leave. Brandon was sitting on the side of the bed in a pair of scrubs the nurses must have given him. He looked up as Alan approached. "Brandon? ...I'm Detective Malloy." Brandon looked scared, and not just because of the assault Alan was sure. It was because of what they had been taught about the cops. There was only one way to gain the boy's confidence. "Brandon...I'm Austin's friend." The boy's eyes got wide...and then there was the hint of a smile. Alan came closer and Brandon reached out to take his hand. "You love him too, don't you?" Alan felt that statement wash over him and as the boy gazed into his eyes for an answer he felt tears cloud his vision. "Yes...yes I do," Alan said, knowing it was true. The boy was off the bed and into his arms before Alan could react. The only thing he could do was hug back...they both needed it. He felt the boy begin to sob and he hugged harder, pulling Brandon's head against his chest. "Hush, sweetie...I'm here to make things better," Alan said. "I...I couldn't stop him...he was so big...down there...it hurt so bad," Brandon managed between sobs. "That's all over, sweetie...we just want you to get better now." Alan held the boy a moment longer and then moved him back to arm's length, kneeling on the floor so the boy could look down into his face. "It's all over...he won't ever hurt you or anyone else again, I promise you," Alan said. "But you'll have to tell me exactly what you remember, OK? I don't want any of your friends to get hurt." "OK," Brandon said, wiping his face with the sleeve of his shirt. "Uh, Detective...what will happen to us?" "First off, you may call me Alan...and I don't even know your last name so that's fair...OK" "It's Weaver...Brandon Weaver...my middle name is Alan too." "Well, we're going to take good care of all of you. It's time for something nice to happen for a change, don't you agree?" Alan smiled and the boy grinned back...the ice was broken. Wilson was standing at the door when Alan turned around. He'd recorded the officer's statements, and Alan borrowed the small tape recorder he carried. Wilson smiled when Alan asked that he be left alone with the boy. Wilson quietly shut the door. Alan lifted the boy back up on the bed and then sat down beside him. "OK, let's start from the beginning...." He said. Forty minutes later Alan opened the door. Brandon was finally asleep on the bed and he had stood for some minutes looking down at the quiet beauty of the boy. Another gay kid led astray by the evil of men's minds. But thankfully this one had been rescued. Wilson, Mike and Brett stood outside...waiting as all cops learn to do. Alan handed Wilson the recorder and sighed. "OK, no more Mr Nice Guy. Mike get the SWAT team setup, I want a hostage team too. Notify Social Services we'll have eight boys for them shortly...no scratch that. Someone go find the hospital chief and say we need space for eight boys, full exams and tests for STD's. I want them quarantined here for at least three days. "I want warrants for Alderman, Shelby and Desmond...and one for a John Doe with the first name of Jack. Start with Child Endangerment and Kidnapping, then work your way down to running a house of ill repute. "That tape has all the names and places we'll need, at least until we get the other boys to talk. And Brett, I want you and Mike to arrest Alderman personally...you should see the damage he inflicted on that boy's body. Get the ID lab over here too; I want photos of Brandon as evidence. They can take apart the house after we're done. I'm going to get the Chief out of bed." "Rock and Roll," Brett said. He and Mike left in a hurry. "I'll get the tape transcribed and set up the warrants. You do know it's three in the morning, don't you boss?" Wilson said. "Yes...and these bastards won't know what hit them when the sun comes up," Alan said. He paused. "And thank you, Wilson, what you set up last night was invaluable; I'll write that damncommendation myself." Wilson grinned. "Guess I better lose some weight before they pin a medal on me. Oh, and I'll make sure the recorder is running when SWAT hits the house, might even make the News at Noon." He turned away and stopped, reaching out to shake Alan's hand. "I heard what you told that boy...it was just what he needed to hear. You really ought to get married and have kids; you'd be a wonderful father." "I'll consider it," Alan said. Wilson left and Alan told the nurse he would be bringing her seven more boys shortly after dawn. She thanked him for the warning and went off to make the arrangements. Brandon had given him the final clue to wrap this all up, a piece of information he'd kept to himself. Jack's last name started with a G and he was staying in town, probably at a hotel not far away. He commandeered the two onsite uniforms and had them call in for replacements. They were going to visit a few hotels and ask around when he had a thought. Searching the emergency waiting room, he saw the young man sitting against the wall in a uniform jacket. The chauffeur was still here. "Excuse me, Mr Brooks?" Alan asked. "Yes...Detective Malloy? The other detective said you might want to talk to me personally," Brooks replied. "Yes I do, I want to thank you. What you did was heroic, there's no two ways about it," Alan said. "How's the boy?" Brooks asked, brushing off the compliment. "He's fine...sleeping now, it was quite a trial," Alan said. "You drive for Mr. Alderman a lot?" "He owns the company. I've been with them about eight months now," Brooks said. "It's not what you think. I've driven those boys places but I had no idea it was...it was for such a horrible reason. I'm quitting this morning when the office opens." "Did you ever drive another man someplace? He would be a friend of Mr. Alderman's that just recently arrived in town,? Alan asked. "You mean Mr. Gillette, no...I didn't, but Frank did. Oh...Oh Lord, I bet Frank knew about all this, he was Mr. Alderman's personal driver." "Frank?" "Frank Simmons, he's sorta like a bodyguard in a way...he carries a revolver," Brooks said. "Alderman lets him keep an apartment above the garage at the house." "Do you know where Frank took Mr. Gillette on their last drive?" "Yes, but only because Frank had to ask me for directions." "And where did they go, Mr. Brooks?" Alan asked. "They went to the Renaissance Hotel on Wacker Street," Brooks said. "Thank you, Mr Brooks....you've been most helpful." "I hope you get them all, Detective...just be careful of Frank...he has a temper." "So do I, Mr. Brooks...so do I," Alan said. He gave the uniforms their destination and called Central for a backup, advising them what they were about to do. En-route Wilson called to say that the warrants were all set. Alan asked him to fax a copy over to the front desk at the Renaissance Hotel after adding the name Jack Gillette to make it official. He called Mike and gave him a heads up on Frank and the apartment over the garage. SWAT should treat him as an armed suspect. And then he told Mike they were about to nail Jack as well. He almost laughed as he heard Brett yell "Rock 'n Roll" in the background. He felt the joy of success too. * * * * * John was beside himself...the boy had simply disappeared. The ties he found scattered across the bedroom floor, but how had the little bastard become loose? He could have sworn the kid was unconscious...and the knots were tied securely. Did someone come in and find the boy while he was upstairs waking Shelby? God damn, had the kid escaped the compound? No, he couldn't get over the wall from inside and the gate was securely locked until...the limo. That had to be it. John remembered seeing Brooks in the hallway when he came down, the man had been in the kitchen the whole time he'd been in the bedroom with Brandon. Had he heard anything? He remembered the boy's screams...damn, they must have been heard. Brooks would have taken Shelby and Desmond home by now, he would be returning to the company garage. John took out his cell phone and punched the buttons. One ring....two...three... damn, no one was there. He searched the walk in closet once again and checked the linen closet in the bathroom, no sign of the boy hiding...he had to be gone. John ran through the rest of the house in a panic, starting on the first floor and working his way upstairs. All the boy's rooms were empty and he could hear the sounds of the other three playing games in the lounge. He peeked inside but there was no sign of Brandon in the room. He even tried the attic door and found the padlock still in place, fuck...where was he? Brooks was the only car that left. Damn, the remaining boys were due back at any minute. They couldn't see him like this...he was about to tear his hair out. He hurried back to his bedroom...what else could he do? He thought about calling Jack. Shouldn't he warn the man if the boy had escaped? But there would be questions, millions of questions and he wasn't in the right frame of mind to answer any of them. Oh Fuck. He ought to run away, go into hiding. What if the boy went to the cops? No, he couldn't...he was a prostitute. Just a fucking little whore. "Where are you...you little bastard!" John screamed. He fell to his knees at the end of his bed and sobbed. It couldn't be helped...he'd screwed up again. His damn cock had led him into this evil...it always had. John ripped open his pants and looked down at his shame. "Fucking bastard...I hate you...I hate you," he sobbed. He began to pound his thighs and ended up punching his cock and the sensitive sac underneath. The pain shot through his body and he welcomed it...so he did it again...and again. He collapsed on the floor, the pain in his groin spreading through his abdomen and making his muscles contract. John's bowels let loose on the carpet and he wallowed in the stink of his excrement rising up around him. He lay there enjoying the disgust he now felt. Nothing he could do...the boy was gone...gone. After what seemed like an eternity he crawled to the bathroom, feeling the brown crud sliding down his thighs. His shit felt cold now and that made him giggle. Cold shit...hot shit. He laughed at the thought. He struggled out of his torn pants and laughed at that too, so he tore off his shirt and went into fits of maniacal laughter. He managed to claw his way into the shower stall and sat on the floor. The pain in his groin would not allow him to stand so he reached up and turned the knobs, feeling a burst of cold water before the hot water reached the shower head. That made him laugh too...it was all so fucking silly. He must have been there for almost an hour before his mind began to focus. He would have to tell Frank about the boy. He couldn't tell Bucky...Bucky was dead...bye-bye Bucky. Frank said Bucky had gone for a swim and never came up. That had seemed supremely funny at the time...but not now. Damn...he needed Bucky. John pulled himself up and turned off the water. He grabbed a towel but didn't dry himself. Instead he hobbled across the floor, leaving a trail of wet footprints on the tile and on into the bedroom. There was a pile of shit on the carpet at the foot of his bed. He ignored it, dropping the towel over it instead. His balls ached, but that was a good thing. His cock wouldn't get hard again tonight...the beast had been tamed. He wandered over to the side bar and poured himself an inch of Hennessey. He inhaled the fumes in the glass, savoring the exquisite aroma, and then poured it down his throat in one gulp. John gasped, tears running from his eyes and his breath taken away. Only real bastards swigged expensive cognac like that...and he was one this night. He needed to sleep; the dawn would bring certain hell. He poured another inch...and then made it two. Opening the drawer of the bar he pulled out the bottle of Valium and popped two pills...then made it four more, chasing it all down with the cognac. The pills scattered across the bar as he threw the bottle down, and he ignored them. He couldn't sleep in that bed...it smelled of the boy. Not his boy...but that miserable whore of a boy. His mind turned to Alex...sweet child...perfect angel. John collapsed in the chair beside the bed. Alex would be back tomorrow...and they would leave together. They could go back to Nina's village in Mexico. He would build them a small house overlooking the bay. He'd first seen Alex on that very spot and almost fainted at the vision of such beauty. Sweet Alex, hair flying in the wind, bare feet in the sand... John yawned...yes, he needed to sleep...Alex was coming. Tomorrow... * * * * * The night manager at the Renaissance Hotel was very cooperative once she pulled the fax off her machine in the office. The lobby was huge, grand in fact, but not a soul in sight this early in the morning. "We won't disturb your guests," Alan assured her. "Just give me a pass card key to his room." Gillette was in 1846, one of the nicer suites in the hotel. The manager scanned a blank card through a machine on the desk and handed it over. Alan thought she was doing quite well considering the situation, her smile seemed almost genuine. There were eight heavily armed officers and that meant taking two elevators to the eighteenth floor. Alan was sure the riot gear and bulletproof vests were a bit of overkill, but then it was regulation. His uniformed escorts remained in the lobby but Alan had promised them they would get to transport the perp down to the jail. The elevator doors opened on eighteen and the hallways filled with officers, weapons at the ready. 1846 was three doors down at the end of the hallway on the right. Alan noticed background music filling the corridor, soft and soothing, a contrast to the creaking leather that surrounded him. The penetration squad took their places on either side of the door. They would go in first, four men, four short barreled machine guns. The other four had spread out down the hallway, their job to keep anyone from interfering. Alan would go in last. He shifted the vest and nodded. The lead man swiped the card in the door's lock and turned the knob. The second man pushed and all four charged into the darkened room. Lights came on as they moved across the sitting room and breached the bedroom door. Alan heard yells. "Police...Down...Down on the floor...Down I said...NOW." Alan moved in behind, sprinting across the empty room towards the bedroom. He heard the sound of a Taser being discharged, followed by screams of anguish. It was time to make his entrance. Two officers were holding one suspect face down on the carpet. Alan saw he was a middle aged man...that had to be Jack. The officers cuffed the man behind his back and yanked him to his feet. There was no resistance, probably because the suspect was naked, that always seemed to work. There was another...a younger man, face down on the carpet beside the bed. He had short blonde hair and was sobbing...he was also nude. Alan could see the marks left by the Taser on his right shoulder. One of the officers looked up at Alan. "Sorry, he struck me." Alan shrugged, better than a bullet. The officers cuffed the young man and pulled him to his feet. On closer inspection the suspect might have looked like a boy, mostly because his pubic hair was shaved off, but he was at least an adult. Alan walked over to where Jack stood between the two uniforms. "Jack Gillette? We have a warrant for your arrest on charges of Child Endangerment, Prostitution...well, you get the picture. The officer will read you your rights and then we'll take a nice ride downtown. "I want my lawyer," Jack said. Alan smiled. "Oh don't worry, he'll be there too." He looked at his watch, and then back up at Jack. "We ought to be picking him up right about now." * * * * * The SWAT team went over the walls in three places. One group in back to take the garage, and two in the front to take the house. It was barely light outside, sunrise not due for another thirty minutes. Still, Wilson could clearly see the whole thing on the screen in his car as the laptop captured the event. The news media would eat this up. They found the front door unlocked so they crept inside. Six two-man teams scoured the first floor. "We have a body," the radio squawked and Wilson froze. "Male, estimate sixty years of age, rear bedroom...looks like an OD." Wilson smiled, so much for Mr. Alderman. What about the boys? The teams swarmed up the front and rear staircases, invading the upper hallway. Doors were quietly opened, sleeping figures counted. "We have seven juveniles, all fast asleep," the radio relayed. Wilson sighed, the officer on the radio sounded relieved as well. The gates to the estate opened and several squad cars drove in. Wilson could hear Brett's wisecracking voice in his head saying, "Time to make the donuts." Frank had also been asleep when the SWAT boys crashed through his door and fell on him. They found a revolver under his pillow but he'd never had a chance to go for it, he would have been a fool to try. He was cuffed and dragged outside where they made him sit in the wet grass until a car arrived to secure him. Brett and Mike had the SWAT men removed from the upper hall, replacing them with a few uniforms. One by one they went into each room and woke the boys. In each room they told the boys the same thing, a little lie that Alan had cooked up. "Good morning, guys," Mike said. "We're the police. Austin said to tell you to stay calm and things will turn out just fine, he promises. So you guys get up and get dressed, we're gong to have a little meeting downstairs." It was Brandon who had revealed Austin's position of authority over the boys; he said they all respected him. Wilson was in the last bedroom staring at Kevin's workstation, it was still on and that made him smile. Finally we have something, he thought. The uniforms on duty smiled at the boys and the boys smiled back, there was nothing to be afraid of they were assured. It was a silent bunch that sat down at the table, but they were hungry. Brett laid out milk and juice while Mike toasted some muffins. "What?s your name?" a quiet voice asked. "I'm Mike...and you're David." "You know me?" David asked. "I've wanted to meet you guys for weeks," Mike said. "Really? Is Austin here?" David asked. "I heard he won't be back for a few days, but a friend of his is coming over to see you guys in just a little while," Mike said. "Where's Brandon?" Kyle asked. "You'll see him later too, he's probably still asleep," Mike said. "But he's not here...is he?" Kyle asked. "No...he left last night before you guys came home." "Then John lied to us...where's John?" Tim asked. 'John left here too. Seems you guys were all alone in this big old house, we had to come rescue you," Brett said. "Boy is Jack gonna be mad when he finds out about this," David said. "He already knows," Alan said from the kitchen doorway. Mike seemed relieved to see him, and Alan could only imagine all the questions the boys were asking. "My name is Alan Malloy, I'm Austin's friend." "But...but you're a cop," David said. "We're not supposed to talk to cops." "Those days are over, guys. Are you ready for that meeting now?" It was Alan and the boys; no record of any conversation was to be kept. They all gathered in the sitting room, the doors were closed and the cops waited outside. "First, Brandon said to say hello, he's doing fine. I am going to tell you some things here that no one will ever know I told you, but you have to keep it secret. Are we agreed?" Seven heads nodded. Alan sat down on the floor and one by one the boys moved down to surround him. It was intimate, it was cozy, and it made them all feel like equals. "I want you to know that no matter what happens from here on I will be there to help you. I made that promise to Austin, and now I make it to you. You all joined the Golden Hand for different reasons, but that's over now. "In the next few days there will be dozens of people trying to talk to you about this house and the people you worked for. Some of them will be cops, some will be legal types. There will be doctors and social workers interested in you, and of course the news media. "All these people will want to know what you did, who you saw and what you were asked to do for money. I know some of you are gay, just like Brandon...and me." The boys looked shocked at that statement, but there were also a lot of knowing smiles. Alan smiled back. "Yes, even cops can be gay. But like most of you I don't tell anyone about it because it's none of their business. And that's my point, what you did for those men is no one's business but your own. And if you want my advice I would recommend that you refuse to talk about it. Legally you don't have to. "I'm telling you this because all those people will want to make you look bad and feel like criminals. But you don't have to talk because we don't need what you say to convict those men; they have done that all by themselves. "You guys are their victims; you were used to make these men more money than you can imagine, and that is their crime...and the shame is theirs...not yours. I don't want to hear what you did for money; I already know. I did the same thing when I was your age and I put that all behind me, someday you will too. "So remember, if you need to talk to me just ask...Austin did and I became his friend. This part of your young lives is over, and now you move on. Things might be a little difficult the next few months, but you will always have my support." It was little David that reached out and took his hand, and the others soon joined hands until there was a completed circle. "Now there is something I want you to do, and this is the biggest part of our secret. When anyone asks you a question I want you to say that you won't talk until you see your lawyer. And I am going to get you that lawyer because you're going to need him. "There were some very important people involved in all this; some of them worked for the city and others held government office. I know you made money but the court will probably take all that away from you because it wasn't made legally. So you're going to need a lawyer to sue the city and all the adults that made you their victims. I promise to find you the very best. "I want all of you to think about what I'm going to say next because it's the hardest question you'll ever have to answer. I bet you know that your parents were paid by Jack to keep you here. When that is discovered your parents are going to be in a lot of trouble. What I want to know is how many of you want to go home after all this is over...do you want to go back and live with your parents? Those who do, just raise your hand." Alan looked around the circle...no hands went up...not a single one. These boys had detached themselves from parental control long ago; now it would be time for the parents to get a little surprise. Considering the publicity this case would garner, Alan would almost bet the DA would have them arrested and get convictions on all if them. The boys would end up in foster care until they were eighteen. It wasn't fair, but their parents had given up any chance they might have of keeping a family together. Eight boys...and Alan wondered if there was a chance of keeping them together. He could tell that some of them were involved with one another, partnerships had been formed. It would take a heroic effort for what he had in mind, but then these kids were special, and many of them were openly gay. The others probably harbored similar feelings but were too young to express themselves. Soon they would all be the center of a firestorm of activity and attention, and most of it would be unwelcome. As juveniles their names would be kept from the media, but how long could secrets be kept? The sordid details would leak out. Names like Shelby and Desmond guaranteed it. "Ok, here's how the day will go," Alan said. "I want you guys to each get your personal belongings together, an officer will help you carry things downstairs. Then I'm going to take you over to the hospital where you'll see Brandon again. You'll be staying there for a few days...do you know why?" "Cause they want to look up my butt," Kyle said. Alan smiled; Austin had said the very same thing. "Yes, they want to make sure you're all healthy. Just think of it as a free checkup. But I've arranged for all of you to be together away from all the noise this mess is going to cause." "This is gonna all be on the news, won't it?" David asked. "Yes," Alan said. "The adults who ran all this, and the ones you boys went out to see are going to be arrested and put in jail for a very long time." "How do you know about all this stuff?' Tim asked. Alan smiled yet again. "I've been watching you boys for a long time and because we have Kevin's computer, he left us everything." There was a knock on the door and Wilson stuck his head inside. "The vans are here." "OK guys...time to saddle up," Alan said. The circle broke up but David still held his hand. Alan looked into that sweet young face and saw the apprehension in the boy's eyes. "Don't worry, sweetie...I'm going with you. The game is almost over, and when it is you're going to be the winners." "What will happen to Kevin...and Austin?" David asked. "I'm working on that too," Alan said. Epilogue will follow.