Doyle

Doyle - A Hannah Todd Story

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental. This work is copyrighted by the author. All characters involved in sexual activity are eighteen years of age or older at the time of portrayal.

This is the continuing adventures of Hannah Todd. I would strongly recommend you read at least some of "The Bridge," "Badass," "The Auction," and "Simon," which provide the backstory for most of the characters in this story. And if you've been reading me, thank you for your continued support.

Doyle - Part Four

When I called Russo, she was in the middle of something, so she called me back an hour later.

"I'm sorry, Miss Todd, but my boss called a meeting regarding how we are doing tracking the vigilantes. There has been no vigilante activity lately, although captive girls keep coming out of the woodwork, albeit in smaller numbers lately."

"I've got another bad guy for you, Carlotta. It's Doyle, and if you can move fast, you can catch him in the act. He is in the process of shipping out about thirty girls to the West Coast, but the window to catch him in the act is going to be very tight. This guy is in New England, so I hope you have someone up there who can make this work without fucking it up."

"Speaking of fucking it up, your hospital outside of Philly is getting attention from our big guys. Do you know it's the only facility nationwide working exclusively with girls who have been rescued from traffickers like Simon and his people. Your name came up, and I nearly crawled under the table when my boss pointed out that you and your friend Gloria Tuttlehill are the principal financiers of the place. I believe, due to your location, they will be handing the reins of this investigation to Davante Royce. I am aware of your relationship with Mr. Royce, and that will certainly be a conflict. So, I don't think you can rely on him to help you."

"Your boss should be focused on Boston, not Philly. He is looking in the wrong place for the wrong people. What kind of F.B.I. is this? Are you here for the people or to assist the bad guys in getting their way?"

"We have much in common, don't we, Miss Todd? Living in the gray areas of the law. It looks like now you need my help as much as I need yours. I hope you have some good ideas, 'cause I'm clean out of answers."

"My answer at this time is Doyle. Get him and pin everything north of what Simon has done on him. Doyle the fixer. Doyle the mastermind. As far as the mission to find me and my people goes, your boss will have to take it up with my lawyers. And as far as Gloria Tuttlehill is concerned, she knows nothing and has the power to shout that from the rooftops. How bad does the F.B.I. want to look in the eyes of the people? Gloria is the most charitable woman I know. And I know a lot of charitable people."

"Well, you've got me there. We are riding high after all the rescues that have taken place. I'd hate to see that sullied by the bad PR of going after the personification of Robin Hood himself."

"Robin Hood, indeed. Back to Boston, who is the connection up there and how is the best way to get in touch with him or her? This is becoming more and more time-sensitive by the hour."

"Washington is your man. Special Agent in Charge T.J. Washington. He's strong, straight, and sharp as a tack. He's also an old friend from Quantico. If you approach him properly, I expect he will do the right thing."

Russo gave me Washington's supercell number and pleaded with me not to mention her name. I assured her that was a given. I had other ideas.

"Call Davante Royce."

"This is Agent Royce. Who is this?"

"It's me, Davante. Hannah. I'm calling you on a secure line that is being routed near and far to avoid the connection between you and me."

"What's up that we need to speak securely?"

"Cathal Seamus Doyle, Jr. A/K/A Clunky Doyle. He's about to make a move, and it's the right time for the F.B.I. to pounce on his ass. He's about to send around thirty girls west to be transported to Asia, where they will lose everything and probably never be seen again. We have a real chance to catch Doyle in the act, but I'm gonna need the F.B.I.'s help. Russo mentioned a T.J. Washington up in Boston who is both smart and dedicated to doing the right thing. My problem is that I don't know if I could convince him to act. Do you know him, and do you think you can get him moving on this?"

"Washington is a good man who has been held out as an example of a first-class agent. I don't know him personally, but I expect if I told him I had a valid source he would follow the lead to completion. What do you have in mind, Hannah?"

"We've located where the girls are, but we'd like to catch Doyle and as many of his people in the act. Unfortunately, we have a very small window for this. Even worse, I think that window is sometime this coming Sunday, so time is of the essence. Do you think you can convince him you have heard from a reliable source that something is going down and he needs to take immediate action?"

"How do you have such good intel on this guy?"

"He's been chipped with a tracker, and one of his lieutenants is carrying a bug. Let's just say we've been working on this for a while. We've gotten to the point where we know Sunday will be the departure day for the girls, and the word is Clunky will be there before they go. The girls are currently sitting in a bus in Providence, in a warehouse in an industrial park up there. Two of my people are keeping an eye on things. All that having been said, right now Doyle is in Newport, and as soon as he starts to move to Providence, your men should be ready to strike. Can you help?"

"I can and will, but I'm concerned my intervention will highlight my relationship with you and Duane. How about Russo? Does she have any kind of relationship with Washington?"

"She does, but the feds are already beating her up about a possible connection to the so-called vigilantes. Is there anyway the word can come from you?"

"How about if the word comes from Todd Acquisitions? It's known to the F.B.I. that Acquisitions is in the business of finding and freeing victims of trafficking. If word comes from there, through me, maybe we can get away with it."

"It makes sense, but I'm more than a little concerned about the feds making that relationship. It won't take but a minute for them to put two and two together. Especially if this T.J. Washington is as smart as you and Russo say."

"Fine. I'll let Washington know that something is coming down the pike if your people will anonymously touch base with him to give him the go. I will give him the code word 'broken' so that he will know the contact is legit. But you're gonna have to work your magic as the ghost you are. If he doesn't buy it, do you have a contingency?"

"I guess we'll have to waylay them in route to free the girls and then notify the feds, or local law enforcement. But I'd hate to see Doyle get away and potentially go deeper underground."

"Well, I'm going to try to reach Washington right now and get back to you. Until then, be vigilant and keep your cool."

"I look forward to hearing how you do. Talk to you soon."

*CLICK*

A lot would be riding on Davante's call, and mine. So I counseled with Alec and Herbert, who were in The Closet. They would loop me around the world so my call to Agent Washington couldn't be traced. They assured me that at least one of them would be on shift when that call went down. I was also assured voice-disguising software would be used as well.

Before I even got back to my office from my visit to The Closet, my supercell rang. It was Davante. He had spoken to T.J. Washington, who took him at his word that something was going down and would put a unit of agents and a SWAT team on notice for a Sunday event in Providence.

I decided to contact Agent Washington myself, just to solidify the connection. After Alec and Herb sent me around the world and disguised my voice to emulate that of a man, I made the call.

"Agent Washington. I'm following up on your call with Agent Royce regarding a human trafficking ring up in New England. The code word is 'broken' and I want you to know that your opponent is formidable and will probably be prepared to repel an attack from law enforcement. I will call you back when Doyle is on the move and what the destination is. He is currently miles from where the girls are, but that will change on Sunday. I will talk to you then."

"But," Washington said. "Can you...?"

*CLICK*

I wished I could tell him more, but that would not have served anyone at this time. He had his job to do, and I had mine. We'd talk again soon. Sunday. Two days to watch and wait. Two days for my nerves to fray. Two days to get it right.

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I could hardly sleep Saturday night, so Sunday morning came early for me, and for Duane. Both Herb and Alec had volunteered to ride The Closet until the mission was complete. We had a quick, early breakfast courtesy of Bertha. Of course, like every other Sunday, the bacon cooking woke everyone up. The kids would be having their friends over to swim in our new pool, and Herman and Peggy, who had stayed over, would be acting as the lifeguards. As well as Celeste, who was our junior lifeguard.

Duane and I went right up to the office and the videoconference room to prepare for the action. We would wait for Doyle to hit the road before notifying Agent Washington. And we didn't have to wait long.

At a little after ten in the morning, Doyle and Quirk met after a typical night of debauchery at Nell's in Newport, RI. Luckily for us, they discussed their plan for the day at brunch. Doyle wanted to stop by the warehouse before the girls were loaded onto the shipping container, and that would be our big break. Apparently, Miguel Pablino, the trafficker the girls were destined for, insisted on only the finest quality girls, and Clunky was going to see personally that he got what he paid for.

Anthony and Juicy up in New England, as well as Alec in The Closet, were monitoring the action in the warehouse via the wasp drone we had planted. Girls were being taken to the porta-potty to prepare for the long journey west. There was a complement of about twenty of Doyle's toughs holding down the fort. The girls posed no resistance.

At around eleven thirty, Doyle left Newport, and in five minutes it was pretty clear he was heading to Providence. That's when I made my phone call. The call that traveled around the world was disguised to mimic a man's voice.

"Agent Washington, the game is afoot. And the code word is 'broken.' Doyle has left his lair in Newport and is heading to Providence. I expect he will arrive in no more than half an hour. I expect he will have between twenty-five and thirty people or so. Are your people ready to act?"

"I have twenty agents plus a SWAT team ready to pounce as soon as you give me the location in Providence."

I gave him the location information and told him to move with caution. I told him that I had an eye on the venue and recommended that he starts the assault when the girls had all been loaded into the shipping container. That way, the girls should be insulated from all the gunplay.

Washington said he would get his people in place but not move until he heard from me. That's when I hung up and watched and waited. Hanging on the phone too long would put us in danger of being detected by the F.B.I.'s techs.

Anthony and Juicy abandoned their post at the abandoned warehouse minutes before the F.B.I.'s agents started moving in and finding places to hide in and around the industrial park. They didn't go far, and continued to monitor the drone from their vehicle.

At around twelve-fifteen, three cars pulled up to the warehouse and drove right in through the big garage door. As the occupants of the vehicles exited their cars, you didn't have to know what Doyle looked like to know which one he was. We had both visual and sound on him talking to the man next to him, undoubtedly Jackson Quirk.

After five minutes of meeting and greeting each other, Doyle's men started leading girls, one at a time, from the bus to the shipping container. Each was paraded in front of Doyle for his approval. They all must have met his approval as all thirty-three girls made the cut.

As soon as the door was closed on the shipping container, I made the call to Special Agent Washington.

"It's a go, agent. All the girls are in the shipping container, and Doyle and about twenty-five of his people are in and around the warehouse. Go now. And godspeed."

No sooner had I said that than two SWAT vehicles entered the warehouse complex, and agents were coming out of the woodwork. One SWAT vehicle smashed right through the garage door and the agents flooded in. Much gun fighting ensued.

Doyle fled to the empty bus with half a dozen of his minions in an attempt to escape by driving the bus through and past everyone. They managed to get the bus started and moved almost to the entrance of the warehouse when the driver of the bus was struck dead. It was all downhill from there for Clunky Doyle, who had been shot twice. His lieutenant, Jackson Quirk, lay dead, gun in hand, trying to protect his boss. Six other of Doyle's men had died and almost twice as many were wounded.

As tough as Doyle's people were, they were no match for the F.B.I. And yes, they got their man. Wounded, but very much alive, Doyle was carted off separately from his men and taken to the Rhode Island Hospital under a heavy guard.

Fortunately, although some of the F.B.I. agents were wounded, nobody died. Except the bad guys who both went down and surrendered pretty quickly. Even better, because of the timing of the raid, none of the girls were harmed in any way, as they were all locked in the shipping container. But they were all scared to death. Until the container opened and law enforcement made its presence known.

The F.B.I. raid was followed by local law enforcement and the state police streaming onto the scene along with the usual crime scene investigation people. Washington had the foresight to have a contingent of medical and social services personnel at the ready. With great satisfaction, we watched as the girls were led from their captivity to a warm place with a hot meal and a soft bed. I wondered if they would make their way to our facility for trafficked women down in the Philly area. I almost hoped they didn't. I was already feeling too exposed.

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It didn't help when Davante called to say he'd heard from Special Agent Washington. The man from Boston told Davante that he considered the mission a great success. But he wanted to know to whom he attributed the tip. My brother-in-law told him that he didn't know any more than he did. But he told him that he guessed it was the same tipster who let us know about the last auction down in North Carolina. The one we let the F.B.I. take credit for, and earn it.

"Hannah, Washington wants to get together and discuss the mission. I get the impression he is putting the pieces of this puzzle together. I don't like it."

"Don't panic, Davante. We have to keep our stories straight and not budge as they poke and prod us into giving up what we know. That is, unless you want me living in a new, somewhat less splendid residence. Don't let them hold your feet to the fire. There is always a place for you at RFS if you need to flee the F.B.I."

"I don't know. I think I'm more helpful in my current position than as an employee of yours. Haven't we just proven that?"

"Indeed, we have. You just stay cool, calm and collected, and I will do the same. I expect they will be coming for me soon. For now, though, I'm going to go spend some time with the kids at the pool. They have school tomorrow, so I have to enjoy them while I can. One never knows what tomorrow will bring."

"I have every confidence that things will be just fine, Hannah Todd. You somehow have a way of making things so."

"Let's hope I haven't lost my touch. You be well, Davante. Give Harley my love."

"You do the same for that brother of mine."

*CLICK*

Although I knew she had her finger on the pulse, there was one other person I had to call as soon as possible.

"Call Rhee Spanner."

"Hannah, so nice to hear from you at the end of another successful operation. I think I look forward to that most of all."

"Yep. Everything went as planned. But I still have concerns."

"Do you want me to not call off the dogs yet?"

"Oh no. The problems have nothing to do with you and your people. I'm just worried about exposure."

"Do I have to kill somebody?"

"I certainly hope not. That could bring the entire federal government down on us. Then they will stop at nothing to find us. We definitely need to lie low for a while. Don't give them a target. Let things cool down for now."

"And what are you going to do about your little private prison?"

"Well, I'm certainly not thinking of letting anyone go right now. I..."

"You know you could never let them go. Not alive. The first thing they will do is to make sure the finger is pointed at you regarding your role as a vigilante. People die, Hannah. And some people deserve to die."

"Well, I'm not going to think about that right now. I still may have some use for them."

"Well, you do you. I'm here when you need me. My bill is on its way."

"Yeah. Love you too."

*CLICK*

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Quite frankly, I don't know where to go with this story at this point, and am contemplating bringing it to an end. It frustrates me that I just am not feeling the story at this point. I'm sure a little motivation from my readers, and maybe some ideas for continuation would help.

It's hard to believe that the almost 80 chapters of the Hannah Todd stories started almost a year ago. I think for now I will go back to reading more than writing on literotica. If just to try to generate ideas for future stories, maybe including Hannah's continuing tale. I have grown very attached to Hannah and hope she can find a way of further possessing me.

It's apparent to me that I have a small group of loyal readers, and I thank you for reading and following me on my journey. I want neither to dismiss you nor to disappoint you. You have been my rock as I type as fast as I can to continue the stories you have come to expect from me. I hope, in time, that there will be more. MPW

Doyle - Ch. 04

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