Date: Sat, 24 Aug 2002 21:41:25 +0200
From: Andrej Koymasky <andrej@andrejkoymasky.com>
Subject: Infamous Trade 16/17

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INFAMOUS TRADE
by Andrej Koymasky
(C) 1998 - 2002
written the 20th of July, 1995
translated by the author
English text kindly revised by Jer

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USUAL DISCLAIMER

"INFAMOUS TRADE" is a gay story, with some parts containing graphic scenes
of sex between males. So, if in your land, religion, family, opinion and so
on this is not good for you, it will be better not to read this story. But
if you really want, or because YOU don't care, or because you think you
really want to read it, please be my welcomed guest.

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SIXTEENTH

Good, he finally had some hard facts. He could try to slip into the house.
Hopefully, Firestone had not been keeping an eye on him from behind the
windows, waiting for him to make a move and kill him. He felt exhausted. It
wasn't work, tension or his nerves getting the upper hand on him. It was
fear. He let the rain fall on himself for several minutes. Then his
thoughts went back to Grace, and directed his steps toward the front door.
Nothing happened. Then he thought about entering from the back, through the
kitchen door. When he peeped inside, he saw the Jamaican nurse sitting at
the table, reading a newspaper and smoking a cigarette. He rapped on the
glass showing his police badge. The woman seemed astonished, but went to
open the door.

"Police, Sergeant Kevin Black. Who's in the house?"

"Mister Roux and Mister Firestone. Why?"

"Are you sure that nobody else is here?"

"I'm sure. I've been here for hours. Nobody came. Should I call Mister
Firestone? Mister Roux is in his bed, seriously ill."

"No, I'll find my way. You should stay here. If there was a shoot-out..."

"A shooting? You mean..." the woman said, becoming stiff and pale.

"If you'd rather leave, do so at once." Kevin said going through the
kitchen door to the hallway.

While he was opening it, he heard the door to the garden opening and,
turning back, saw the woman vanishing. Good bye, nurse, he thought. On his
forehead a vein started to pulse and he felt hungry and somewhat giddy. He
shut off the kitchen's light and looked at the ray of light filtering from
behind the door. He took a deep breath and grasped his pistol in his hand.

In Jacques' bedroom, Dan, sitting close to his dying lover, was intent on
caressing his hand.

The sick man looked at him with clear eyes and smiled: "You have to get
ready to go to the auction. Have you thought about how to bring the boy to
the house?"

"I can't put him to sleep. He has to be wide awake during the auction. I
was thinking to inject him with a small dose of drugs and he'd follow me
happy and smiling like a little lamb."

"He's still so little - inject him only one quarter of the normal dose, or
you risk to lose him on the way. He is not used to drugs. One quarter will
be enough to soothe him."

"Sure..."

"I arrived just in time, then!" Kevin, who silently appeared at the door,
said.

Firestone and Jacques turned in his direction. Kevin was in need of a shave
and his clothes were drenched with rain. His eyes emitted a flash in the
shadows while he was aiming at Firestone.

Dan stood up slowly, furious, grinding his teeth while slipping neatly into
the situation. Black was alone and Firestone asked himself if his visit was
a personal decision. If that was the case, he could possibly be bought. It
depended on how much he knew. He made a step toward the night table where
he had his .357 Magnum together with Jacques' drugs.

Kevin slightly waved the barrel of his .38. Dan stopped. A few seconds
later he started again to grind his teeth as if he was chewing gum.

"What the hell are you doing here, Black? Do you intend to shoot somebody
with that?"

"You, if you dare touch the night table."

"Show me a search warrant duly filled up and signed by a judge, or leave
immediately."

"A very good move. But as you know a police officer can enter a house
without warrant if he has reason to believe that a crime is being
committed. Your front door was open and I thought there was a robbery under
way. Then I also heard that you kidnapped and are keeping Terence Don
Santos."

"Who's Terence Dos Santos?"

"Ask Shin, he's outside. But I guess you don't know him either. Besides,
where is the house in Queens where the auction will be held?"

Jacques coughed getting Dan's attention.

He wiped the Frenchman's forehead and said to Kevin: "Get out from here or
else I'll force you to use that pistol."

"I'll be careful, if you behave. I wouldn't like missing you and hitting in
stead your boy, if you force me. By the way, do you know that I have all
the diaries of Rowland Preston? A record of everything about you, and all
your confederates, included the late Yung Chem? Deceased here. Or you'll
pretend you don't know him either?"

Kevin saw Firestone close his eyes to ponder, then he slowly opened them
again. The guy had an incredible self-control. He seemed nerveless.

Firestone relaxed showing one of his wolf-like smiles: "So then?" he simply
asked with a serene expression.

Kevin sat on a wooden chair near the door, pulled off his hat and put it on
his knee: "In the last two days, I've barely slept six hours. I'm tired,
hungry and need a good bath. And I'm also in a very bad mood. You tried to
send my colleague and friend into the next world with one of the three
.357's that Lo Casio gave you. I'm getting pissed. Give me the address of
the house in Queens!"

"Go fuck yourself." Firestone quietly answered.

Kevin stood up, leaving his hat on the chair.

"In a short while the FBI will be here and they will find Terry in your
cellar. Anyway you will be taken in, don't you understand? Why are you
still trying to play it smart?"

Jacques coughed, then said, with a feeble voice, "Like any agent
trespassing his competencies, Sergeant Black, you are inclined to see
things only from your personal point of view. And this point of view, like
all personal visions, contains several faults. You came here without a
warrant. Any action taken by you is illegal, if not even a crime. A warrant
has to specify exactly what is intended to be found. It has to be signed by
a judge and we both know perfectly that a judge is very careful before
signing a warrant. A search is a matter that concerns the rights of private
citizens, a concept that goes clearly beyond your comprehension. You are
biting off more than you can chew, and you know that very well. Leave
before you can find yourself in a very embarrassing situation."

Dan smiled. A winning smile. Kevin became aware that the real brain of the
gang was the Frenchman. And also that Dan had a protective attitude towards
his lover. He had to play on that, and to play it well.

"We have enough proof to nail and arrest your little friend, my dear
Jacqueline. And when your brat is in jail, and he will stay there for a
very long time, lot of other evidence will come out to nail him down even
more. And then, who will take care of you? You'll be all alone, darling..."

Dan, his lips clenched, threw a glance to the night table.

Kevin shook his head: "Hey, Firestone, you're making me nervous when you do
that. And even if you could get your pistol from the night table, and even
kill me, what would you obtain? Do you see this little microphone? Out
there they are listening to everything. They'll arrive at once and they'll
cut you into pieces, you and your poor ill girl..." Then he addressed the
Frenchman, "And you, without your Dan, you'll be done, my poor lil' Mary.
I'm ready to bet you'd not last long, once he's in jail. There will be no
more Dan to change your nappies and nor to pay the bills of your nurses..."

"You are a bastard, a damned bastard!" Jacques said.

Kevin smiled, "You and I, my friend. Two damned porcupines, one against the
other."

Firestone intervened, "You foresaw everything, didn't you? You thought that
threatening Jacques I'd have told you everything you wanted to know. But
this will never happen."

Instead it was happening. Kevin saw Firestone lowering his eyes to his
lover and there was a deep sorrow painted on his face. Kevin didn't need
confirmation - the two lovers were imagining the worst and this for Jacques
meant an even more horrible death than the one he was going towards. Kevin
saw Jacques whispering something to Dan who shook his head. Jacques seemed
to become more insistent.

In the end Dan addressed Kevin, "He says to offer you money. I told him
that it would be just a waste of time."

Kevin didn't even answer.

Dan went back speaking to Jacques, "I told you."

"There must be a way."

"Forget it. We have a real tough man, here. There is no sense in even
continuing with this argument. But remember, Black, the day your dear
colleagues know you are working for the Internal Affairs Division, it will
be the day when they'll gouge out your eyes, and fight you to the death.
And I hope I'll be around, when it happens."

"If you say that hoping that the men on the other side of this microphone
hear it, you're wasting your time - it isn't the police, unhappily for you,
but the FBI and they don't give a damn about this news."

"How did you persuade Kim Shin to talk?" suddenly Dan asked, trying to
clutch at something.

"I just used the little magic word. So, you shot Ellen, didn't you?"

"Are you telling or asking, diehard? I've heard you're good when it comes
to fighting. Why don't you put down that gun and we'll go a couple of
rounds?"

"It wouldn't be bad. But I'd rather seeing you in jail pining away for the
fate of your little friend. Will you tell me something about the house in
Queens where you do the auction? If you don't, I'll just search your papers
and I'll find out, anyway. I'm just thinking you can save me some time."

"I'll not tell you shit."

"As you like. But then look carefully your Mister Roux, because after
tonight you'll never see him again. Cuddle each other for the last time.
Where's the house in Queens?"

"Don't allow him to bluff you. We can have the best lawyers. We will fight
him. He will never take you away, if I can prevent him." Jacques said.

"I'm afraid you lost the gist of what I'm saying, Mister Roux. Dan is not
scared for himself, but only for you."

He observed Dan looking at Jacques with a glance full of sadness. That
glance said everything - Kevin's words had reached the target. With
Firestone in prison, Jacques would be soon dead. Firestone wouldn't allow
that. Kevin had just to wait and to see what would happen.

"If you tell me the Queens house address, we could treat your little ill
man, Firestone with some consideration. Think of that..."

"Go fuck yourself, bastard!" the ex policeman yelled.

Then the world seemed to go off.

The Jamaican nurse entered the room holding a tray where were some
hypodermic syringes, a tea pot and a bowl steaming with chicken broth.

"I don't give a damn about what's happening inside here, police or not. I'm
a professional nurse and have a patient to take care of, and that's what
I'll do now!" she said determined.

Kevin turned to look at her - she could not put herself between Firestone
and him. The nurse took Kevin by an arm pushing him aside. A moment later
she had passed him and was going towards the bed. She was thinking that her
duty came before everything, it was an ethic matter, what the hell! By the
way she had called the police who said they would intervene at once. Now
the woman was between Kevin and Firestone.

"Get out of there!" yelled Kevin.

Dan's hand disappeared inside the night table drawer coming out with his
.357 Magnum. Seeing the weapon the nurse became very still. Kevin dropped
to the floor aiming his pistol at Firestone. The barrel of his .38 aimed at
the nurse and Kevin couldn't shoot. The woman turned towards him and that
was the moment when Dan turned to Jacques, fired at his head, then put the
barrel in his mouth and pulled the trigger.

The nurse turned again, saw the scene, screamed, and lost her senses.
Kevin, upset, remained still. He needed several seconds to be able to move
again. Firestone had escaped him and took his lover with him. No prison, no
punishment, nothing whatsoever.

He had just witnessed of an act of love, of passion, different from any
other he had ever seen. He would remember it for a long time, he was sure.
With time, he might understand if it was the most generous or the most
absurd gesture he would ever see. If he had to admire the two criminals or
be sorry for their love. For the moment he was too upset and full of anger
to decide. Then he thought that Terry was finally free. And he felt better.

He heard steps nearing the door - were they the men of the FBI or the
police? For safety sake he took his badge from under his coat and let it
hang in full view. He put his pistol down on the chair and turning towards
the door, raised his hands. He saw Silvan entering with a pistol in his
hand, followed by the other men of the FBI and let out a sigh of relief.

Behind them he saw Charlie entering, and wearily smiled to him, "Terry is
down in the cellars. Let's go to get him, you and I. Alone."

"Yes, I heard everything. Let's go." said Charlie and Kevin felt he
desired, he wanted the young man - in the past, he had no time to think
about that but now he felt it with a renewed strength.

He looked at Silvan who nodded in assent. Kevin and Charlie looked for the
stairs going down to the cellar.

Arriving at the green iron door, Kevin gestured him to keep silent,
crouched down with an ear glued to the door to listen. Nothing. He looked
for the hinges without finding them, which meant that the door was opening
inward. Fear was threatening to paralyze him. He fought, trying to
transform that emotion in rage and determination. In that moment he wanted
to feel like a hopping mad cop struggling against a mad world. He looked
towards Charlie and the young man's tension gave him courage. He signaled
him to remain still where he was. He put his hand on the handle and turned
it slowly. The show is beginning, he thought.

He rapidly opened the door and slipped in, going to the left, putting his
feet on the stone floor, his back leaning against the wall. He put his
finger on the trigger, feeling the terror of dying, but ready to kill. The
small room with concrete walls was empty.

But somebody had been there just moments before - he saw a lit cigarette
smoking in an ashtray. He also saw an unmade folding bed, a folding metal
chair, and the remains of a lunch left on a table. There were magazines of
naked men and a pair of shapeless gym shoes on the floor. The room of a
man, of the man standing guard he suspected that would be there. But where
was he now? The slowly burning cigarette meant that he had just left. Kevin
went forward, his eyes glued on the second metallic door of that room.
Through the glass of the peep hole he could make out a light. He could also
hear the muffled sound of a heavy metal song coming from the room - Terry!

He approached the door with his .38 at shoulder level. He heard a rustling
and quickly turned towards the door he had entered - Charlie was slipping
inside. He gave him a mandatory sign to remain behind the door and pointed
to the smoking cigarette. Charlie nodded. Kevin wiped his wet sweaty hands
on his coat, then looked through the peep hole. He saw a concrete walled
room, smaller than the one he was in. A rickety table was directly under a
bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling. On the table was a Mickey Mouse
clock, a small rucksack and some books. A close circuit camera watched over
the room from a ceiling corner. From the recorder cover on a folding chair,
the tune "Walk This Way" by Aerosmith was playing. The bed was empty.

Kevin leaned his head on the glass panel and felt awfully tired. His
drenched clothes seemed to him colder and heavier. Then he heard a noise
outside of the door where they entered. He saw Charlie flattening himself
against the wall, holding his breath. Kevin moved rapidly to the other side
of the door. The door would hide Charlie but he would be visible at once...

A young Puerto Rican around twenty five years old, a with a small machine
gun on his shoulder, entered just finishing zipping up his fly. He was
looking at the other door and didn't see Kevin. The policeman, as soon as
the young man was in the room, seized him by an arm tearing away the
machine gun. The young man screamed and reacted, but Kevin with a high
pivoted kick, hit him violently in the side causing him to fall to the
floor. Meanwhile covering him with the machine gun. The young man was about
to stand up but became still and looked wide eyed at the police badge still
hanging from Kevin's coat.

The policeman, with his free hand, held out the handcuffs to Charlie who
was leaning out from behind the door. The young man handcuffed a wrist to
an ankle of the guard. Kevin smiled and thought that it was a clever way to
immobilize somebody, even though not so orthodox.

"Search him, Charlie. Where is the boy?"

"Where do you think he is?" the guard answered, dour and downcast, gloomy
at having been surprised like a greenhorn. Mean while Charlie was carefully
searching him and was removing a dagger he had hidden on his left leg.

The guard had no idea there was somebody in the room he had just left, to
go empty himself. The thick concrete walls didn't let him hear the two
shots of Firestone's pistol, nor the steps of the agents entering the
house. He didn't expect any bad surprises.

"Don't play smartass with me! Where have they brought him?"

"Brought? They had to take him away in a while... he's still inside there."

"Where were they taking him?"

"If you don't know, that's your problem!" the young man, collecting
himself, answered.

Kevin cuffed him with the hand that held his pistol, and a bloody stripe
appeared on the young man's cheek. The guard looked at him with hate.

Kevin seized him by the scruff of the neck and squeezed lightly, but with a
hold that made forecast nothing good, "Tell me where they took him or I'll
make you spit out all your teeth, one after another!" the agent said,
furious.

Meanwhile Charlie had moved to the peep hole in the door and looked inside,
"Terry! He's inside here... Terry!" he shouted knocking against the door
and trying to open it.

Kevin turned to look at him, stupefied.

"I told you, turd of a cop!" the Puerto Rican hissed.

Kevin saw the key hanging next to the door. Taking the guard's small
machine gun with him, he took the key from the wall, made Charlie move
aside and opened the door.

When Terry saw looming in the doorway that big strong man, soaked, with his
unkempt beard, the machine gun in his hand, stepped back widening his eyes.

Charlie entered the room behind Kevin and seeing the little boy's scared
expression, went toward him smiling, moved, "Don't be afraid, Terry. He is
Kevin Black, your mummy's friend..."

The boy looked at the agent with reddened eyes but with a hint of a smile,
"Yes, at times she spoke about you... You were in the marines, weren't
you?"

"Right, Terry. We also met, but you were only five years old, possibly you
can't remember." Kevin said in a low voice, slowly lowering the machine gun
he, unconsciously, still grasped in his hand pointed forward.

"Why didn't mum come to get me?" the boy asked Charlie in a low voice.

Charlie drew the boy to him and hugged him: "Dad and mum... are dead,
Terry." he said gently, almost in a whisper.

In the silence that followed Terry looked first at Kevin, then at Charlie.
Seeing their expressions he leaned his head on Charlie's chest and burst
into tears.

Charlie hugged him and whispered, caressing his head and shoulders, "Terry,
my love..."

"Oh Charlie... you're the only one I have left, now... only you... don't
leave me, I beg you."

"Never. You know I love you."

"I too love you, Charlie. These past days I was thinking only of mum and of
you."

"Did they do anything bad to you?" Kevin asked trembling, waiting for an
answer.

The kid was bravely trying to stop crying, even though with little success.

He looked out the corner of his eye to Kevin and asked, "Something bad?"

"Yes... did they beat you? Threaten you... did they..." Kevin didn't dare
making the crucial question.

But the boy understood, "No, nothing. The guard wanted me, but he didn't
touch me. He said I would be sold to a Korean man and I would be obliged to
doing those things to please him, then he said I would be sold at an
auction to men wanting to have sex with me... But I think he just said this
to scare me and to made me do it with him. But nothing happened. Why did
they kill mum?"

"Because they really wanted to sell you..." Charlie whispered holding him
closer against himself.

Terry looked at him, his cheeks striped with tears, "But you came in time.
I want to be only yours..." he murmured and leaned in to kiss the mouth of
his Charlie, pushing himself against his body.

The young man responded to the kiss and cuddled him, tenderly.

"Charlie, I want to be yours... today... please..." the boy whispered.

The young man smiled him and said, gently, "I already told you we have to
wait for that, love. You are still too young."

"Not so much, if they wanted to sell me for sex. If I had to do it with
somebody who bought me, I can do it with you who love me. Please, Charlie.
I know you desire me... Please, don't make me wait longer... Please,
Charlie, make me yours!

Kevin was watching them, deeply moved. He was also astounded by the boy
making such a speech in his presence with absolute naturalness. How he
intimately caressed the young man without caring about the presence of
another person. But, he thought, if somebody else saw that, it could end
with the judge refusing to give custody of Terry to Charlie. So he
interrupted and explained the problem to the kid. He told him he could
absolutely not make such speeches or such caresses in front of other
people.

Terry nodded, than asked, "Charlie, you really asked for custody of me to
be given to you?"

"Yes, as soon as I knew you had nobody else left."

"And will they give me to you?"

"I hope so. And if you too want that, it will be easier."

"Sure I want it... but on one condition."

"That is?" Charlie asked slightly surprised, looking at him with a
questioning look.

"Only if you allow me to sleep with you... and you don't continue telling
me I'm too little for you, for making love with you." the boy whispered
with a very serious expression on his face.

Kevin silently left the room. In his heart he wanted Charlie to surrender
to the heartfelt requests of Terry - legally he was only a little boy, but
in these few moments he had shown he was more than mature with his
attitudes about life and what he wanted.

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CONTINUES IN CHAPTER SEVENTEENTH

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In my home page I've put some of my stories. If someone wants to read them,
the URL is

http://andrejkoymasky.com

If you want to send me feed-back, please e-mail at

andrej@andrejkoymasky.com

PLEASE NOTE THE NEW URL AND E-MAIL ADDRESS

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