Simon

Simon - 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," and "The Auction," 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. Your comments are priceless, so please leave your wisdom so I might improve my writing.

Simon - Part Eight

Anthony, Romy, Hoagie and Caroline were already down in Lexington hidden away in a stolen ambulance from one of the local companies. Parked next to them was Duane in a Chevy Tahoe that looked like any other unmarked police vehicle. He had his F.B.I. badge stating he was Special Agent Davante Royce ready to flash should anyone think he was being suspicious.

I was in my usual perch, in my office in the videoconference room. With Lizzie, of course, being a pair of nervous wrecks. The sparrow drone was up and running, and had not been detected by either the humans or the Eagle drones flying in and around the venue. No buyers or sellers were present, as it wasn't even dark yet, but Thomas Truth and L'Cheetah Bolinski were there putting the finishing touches on things. And there were already plenty of girls. Two buses full, plus others chained together or caged.

There were also a variety of security personnel, mostly in black fatigues, but also dressed in suits or street clothes. Their dress did not necessarily express that they were guards, but you just knew. And you could just tell Clunky Doyle's guys from the rest. Looking like the hoodlums they were. What a bunch of palookas.

Duane dropped Anthony and Caroline, with her sniper rifle, at the woods outside the plant, and they hiked in to a tree line that gave Caroline a chance to take a good shot, undetected. She'd actually have to take two shots, optimally. One at Simon and one at the helicopter pilot, assuming there is a helicopter. No pilot, no quick get away. No quick getaway, no Simon. Caroline's job would be to take her two shots and get out of Dodge. Anthony's job would be to watch her back.

At around eight, the buyers and sellers started drifting in. Some in cars, others in vans filled with girls or personal bodyguards, or both. I watched as this went on through Caroline's scope camera. I noticed the same type of bodyguarding as took place with Teetotaler's auction, except there were two fifty caliber machine guns and ten guards on the roof. I also noticed a little building on top of the roof, I expect that led to the stairs down. I didn't know for a fact that helicopters ever landed on that roof, but I had a feeling something did.

In the event we failed to waylay the helicopter, I had Juicy sitting at an abandoned airstrip twenty miles away. She brought six five gallon Jerry cans filled with fuel, which she used to top off her tank after the flight from southern Chester County. She could, with her miniguns, help us out of a fix if we got into one, or she could follow Simon's chopper to its destination and reveal the location of his home base.

Time to call Russo.

"Carlotta, what's the status? Tic tock, Russo. The first bidders are just starting to show up. What..."

"We have two hundred agents from all the alphabet agencies in position to descend upon the venue at twenty-two hundred hours. We know that the first parties are beginning to show as well. We've got spotters on the tree line."

"Just make sure they don't make a move until the helicopter is sitting at rest. When that pilot cuts his engines, then it's time to go. No sooner. Don't fuck this up, Carlotta."

"No, I've got this. You might not think much of me, but I can be hellah police when I'm on my game."

"You're wrong, Russo, I think you are a fine cop. Or I wouldn't bother with you. Just remember whose cop you are."

"How can I not?"

"Just be wise. Be the woman you are. That will be enough."

"Thank you, Miss Todd. Godspeed to you too."

*CLICK*

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All the pieces were in place. The sparrow drone was a piece of engineering magic. We couldn't quite hear the conversations from our vantage point, but there was a constant groan, or moan that just fell over the crowd. It came from the girls. Mostly kept parked in buses. They would be paraded into the venue but never come back out. At least not through the same door.

And the buses came stacked to the brim, standing room only. Maybe fifty to a bus. And all dressed to kill. Imagine what that bus must have smelled like, fifty different scents all mixed up in a bus ride into bondage. The smell of fear mixed with sweat and cheap perfume.

This is when I start to question my own decisions. Am I doing the right thing leaving the lives of these girls in government hands, as opposed to my good hands, with my best guys going out and saving the day. Then I think about Domingo. An inch to the left and that bullet could have caught a bone. Or worse.

But the decision was made. Having the feds do it instead of me is for the best. I put the fucking thing together; let them do the heavy lifting now. What I have to do is wait. Wait for Simon. And pray that Russo does too.

I'll know the moment a chopper lands on that roof, because my sparrow is in the rafters close to the roof, which is flat and looks well supported from what I can see. I'm sure everything will shake when it hits the roof.

From Caroline's scope camera I could see the roof access from the top floor to ground level. From there, Simon will make his entrance. It is being protected by a fifty-caliber machine gun emplacement. Two if you include the one at the front of the building.

Caroline came over the comm-link with a request. "Queen Bee, can I linger a bit and take out the gun emplacements as well. It will save lots of lives."

"I don't want the feds to pick up that you are out there... Fine. Take out the gun emplacements, then just stand down and get yourselves out of there."

"Take that as an order," Duane said. "Not as a suggestion."

"Aye, aye, sir."

The warehouse was filling up with buyers and sellers, talking amongst each other. Like I said, I couldn't get a bead on the conversations, but one word was being repeated so often that it was hard not to pick up.Simon.

Thomas Truth got up in front of his audience, and told them to hush, that he had something to say. But they persisted. In fact, they rang out the name of 'Simon' to the point where I had no trouble discerning it from all other conversations.

But just then, I could hear it. Above the din of the downstairs crowd, up above was a different sound; whupp, whupp, whupp. And then a sound that seemingly rocked the place with a bang. The chopper must have landed directly above the sparrow. He's here. It's got to be him.

I looked at the screen that echoed Caroline's scope, and there it was, a four-person helicopter, and people were exiting it as it motored down. As the passengers were removing their headsets, Caroline panned in on them one at a time. Easy call. Two bodyguards and Simon. And the pilot. Poor son of a bitch. He's got no idea what's coming his way.

"Hannah, I've got a bead on the pilot. Give the word and he's gone."

"Hold for now, but keep on top of him. Any second now the feds are gonna be coming out of the woodwork. Just wait for the word."

"Holding."

"Anthony, are you seeing anything in the tree line or in the woods?"

"No, Hannah. All's quiet here. But I can see something or someone in the woods to my far left. I'll bet it's the feds."

"He's walking from the chopper to the doorway, Hannah. If I'm going to hit them both, then it's gotta be now."

Then, out of the blue came cars, trucks, SUVs of all stripes. Even a helicopter. And a couple of SWAT vehicles were coming in through the entryway.

"Now, Caroline, Now. Take them down."

Pfft. Pfft. The helicopter pilot slumped over with a bullet in the middle of his head, and Simon was spun around by a hit to the biceps. Holding his arm, he ran to get back into the chopper, but saw that the pilot was dead. So, with his two bodyguards in tow, he ran to the doorway to get into the building with some hope of escape. His stormtroopers would be downstairs ready to protect him. But by the time he got downstairs, they were in a fight for their lives.

Caroline, not to be denied, put a bullet in each of Simon's bodyguards, then turned to the guys on the fifty-caliber machine guns. Pfft. Pfft. Two more down. And time to leave.

Fortunately, Caroline and Anthony left when they did because agents of all stripes were coming out of the woods. But, fortunately far from where they had positioned themselves. Good, they were gone. Duane would pick them up soon.

In the meantime, unlike our last adventure, the fighting ensued for almost half an hour. Lots of folks were falling on either side. Simon's men had created a protective nook, with old broken furniture left behind from when places like this produced such furniture. They were shooting at anyone who was shooting at them. Anyone with the sticker saying POLICE on it. But they were losing badly.

Much more blood had been shed at this event than at the one we undertook. And it looked to me like more girls had been affected and maybe more had died. From my vantage point, it was ugly.

Duane's job was to seek out Simon, the wounded warrior, and get him into the ambulance with Hoagie and Romy. He didn't really start until the shooting had stopped. He's just too smart to walk into a hail of bullets. That's never a winning situation.

You couldn't miss Simon that night, and Duane didn't. He was all decked out in a burgundy tux, ready to give his five-minute speech and then disappear. Sorry, Simon. Not tonight.

Duane, with Romy dressed as a paramedic in tow, approached Simon, who was sitting with others, ziptied on the floor, with his injured and bleeding arm.

"This one's with me," Duane told the officer who was watching a whole swath of people, both men and women. And he flashed him his 'official' F.B.I. badge and off he and Romy went, with Simon in hand. Into the ambulance, with Hoagie at the wheel. Duane led the ambulance out as other cars, trucks and assorted specialized vehicles were coming in. At the exit, Duane just badged himself and the ambulance out. Romy gave Simon a shot that knocked him out.

Duane found Caroline and Anthony at the edge of the woods and they jumped into Duane's Tahoe. Everybody met up at the airstrip, where Hoagie and Anthony flew back to Chester County with Juicy and our prisoner, while Romy and Caroline went with Duane for the trip home.

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Simon was very special, so I couldn't treat him like any of my other guests. But I wouldn't treat him that much differently. I had run out of room at the safe house, so my next best option is the ranch house on the property where we did our drills for the last auction. It was an old Hunt Club, where they used to chase foxes with horses and dogs, and I got it when the buyer was distressed as folks had stopped doing that, so I got it for a song. The ranch house and barns are right in the middle of this hundred acre mostly wooded property. Simon can scream all he wants, and nobody will hear him. Except my two guards, which I will be increasing to four guards now that I have him.

Speaking of which, I don't care what time it is, I'm going to greet the motherfucker when he gets here. After a four-hour flight and a twenty-minute car ride, Simon was snug and secure in the bedroom of my eight-bedroom ranch house. Barry Finkel keeps trying to get me to sell it, but I won't put it on the market. It's far too beautiful for me not to own. Far too fine for the likes of Simon Meetcham. Or Patrick Muldoon, or whoever the hell he is.

The room I had Simon put in was a simple room, with an iron framed four poster, and a metal chair. Not unlike the chairs my guests at the safe house got to sit in. At four in the morning, when I walked into that room, he was chained to the chair by his legs, his arm bandaged and his hands unbound. I was gracious and did not have him undress. But I let him lose the tux jacket and tie. He still looked a bit overdressed for the meeting. I was in jeans.

"Well, Simon. Welcome to my world."

"And who exactly are you, madam?"

"I'm your worst nightmare. I'm the woman whose very existence is abhorrent to you. And in a world that you cannot imagine existing, I am queen."

"Queen of Hearts, I expect."

And I pulled down the neckline of my tee shirt to reveal my Queen of Spades tattoo on my left breast just to prove him wrong.

"Wrong, buster. We're gonna make this a short visit tonight, because I'm tired. And I'm gonna let you get as good a night's sleep as you're gonna get sitting in that fucking chair. And I tell you this with an open heart, it ain't gonna get any better."

And I turned and walked out of that room as proud of myself as I've ever been. But before I left, I had a word with my boys, who would be watching him.

"Get him naked first thing tomorrow as soon as there are four of you. If he wants to piss, give him a jar. If he wants to eat, feed him nothing for now. I will determine his diet and when he gets to eat. Let him drink. I don't want to dehydrate the motherfucker. But if he gets all uppity, don't be afraid to prod him a bit. No higher than number two to start. But don't' do anything until the other two arrive. I want four men on this guy at all times. He is a flight risk and a danger to you and to himself. I don't want him living too well, but I don't want him dying, either. I've invested a lot in him, and I'd like a healthy return on my dollar."

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Fortunately, it was the weekend, so sleeping in late was not that big a deal. And thank goodness the kids slept in too. I don't know if they heard me stomping around last night, but I was all over the place. Between my office and the Closet, I was wearing a rut in the carpet. But it did give Liz and me a chance to check out the babies. Now sleeping through the night without fail.

But I didn't sleep too late, there was so much I wanted to do. First, I wanted to call Russo and get the play-by-play. And the numbers.

"Call Carlotta Russo."

"Russo."

"Carlotta, it's Hannah Todd. So? Are they proclaiming you a hero once again?"

"They've been very nice to me, but they are working me like a dog. I still haven't slept."

"Harder than I am?"

"No. Nobody is harder than you."

"Gooood. I like that. Tell me the numbers, Russo. How did we do?"

"Well, there were one hundred and sixteen girls, fourteen dead and as many wounded. We lost eleven of our own, but took down dozens of bad guys. Captured quite a few as well. But there was no Simon. The head of this thing seems to have been a Thomas Truth, but he's dead."

"Did you happen to pick up a L'Cheetah Bolinski? She's up there in the pecking order. And a guy named Doyle."

"No Doyle, but that name seems to be getting thrown around a bit by some tough guys from up north. At least they think they're tough. Bolinski is in a special hold."

"Oh, they're tough alright. You just met them with strength, and they are not so used to that. Anything else to report?"

"No, thanks for the great bust. I do that again, and I just might get the Presidential Medal of Freedom."

"You just keep doing your job and who knows what's next?"

*CLICK*

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After dinner with the family, Holly, who was recently back from Mexico, pulled me aside to say that she and Gloria Tuttlehill had spoken about an idea she had about mental health services for young girls released from captivity. Although she thought it was a great idea, she felt that she did not have time in her life for such an agenda. She referred to Lu Como, M.D., her psychiatrist.

"Lu said she is thinking of retiring from private practice and was thinking of taking a residency at one of the local hospitals. Maybe this would be a good fit for her. If the money is good."

"I spoke with Gloria about the idea, and I am planning to invest in this venture myself. As long as I get the approval for the expenditure from the COO of Todd-Bernstein Enterprises. I also have a medical director in mind for this facility, and a place to put it."

"Oh, Gloria didn't mention that you had an interest."

"Who do you think put the idea into her head? Do you remember William, my friend from Hershey?"

"How can I forget William? He helped to restore heterosexuality in my life. If there were no William, there would probably be no Chuck. I love and support the idea, Hannah, but I just don't see myself running it. Not unless you want to take the reins of Todd-Bernstein."

"Oh, no. You are doing far too good a job for me to go and screw it all up. Steady as she goes, Holly. You keep that ship afloat. I'll find someone to run the facility. If William accepts my offer, would you help me to find him a good manager to take care of the administrative end?"

"I actually am thinking of a couple of gals we already employ. I'll bet your Les McKelly could do that job."

"Oh no. I'm not letting go of McKelly. But I'd be happy to talk to the women you are thinking of and see how I feel about their abilities."

"Good. Then I'll set it up. Do you have a location yet?"

"I'm actually thinking of the hospital outside of Chester that shut down in '53. I am sure it is still for sale and we, with Gloria's pull, can get it at a reasonable price. Certainly less than the five mill that I am planning to donate to the cause."

"Well, as COO of Todd-Bernstein, I approve of that expenditure. I'll see where we can pull it from and make it available for negotiations. I'll even get in touch with the sellers of the property and start negotiating a decent price."

"I knew I could count on you, Holly, to get the ball rolling. You are such a fine administrator. The best."

"You just get me in touch with William so he can be part of the process. That is if he is interested."

"Once he hears Gloria Tuttlehill is involved and the package we will offer him, he'll come. It will be hard to resist."

So, after Holly and I broke off our conversation and she went to the office to sign off on some Todd-Bernstein business, I gave William a call.

"Hannah, what's up. Twice in the same month, after not hearing from you in so long. Yours must be a serious offer."

"Dead serious. We are looking into a location, and we think a small hospital in Delaware County that closed a couple of years ago would be perfect. Right outside of Philly and close enough so that you could live in that little Chester County town you like so much. Not to mention we're looking to start you off at three hundred thousand plus bonuses."

"Wow, that's more than twice what I'm making now. I'll tell you what, when do I start?"

"Well, Holly is working on getting you an administrative staff, so I'd say as soon as they are in place we can get started. I have managed to get additional funding from Gloria Tuttlehill so we will be working at better than break even from the start. Not bad for a non-profit."

"You just let me know when you need me and I'll put in my notice. About living arrangements..."

Simon Ch. 08

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