The Auction

The Auction - A Hannah Todd Story

The Auction - 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" and "Badass," 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 product.

The Auction - Part Two

The Auction - Part Two

Turning Deacon Peacock did not come easy, but after we got to setting number three on the cattle prod, he decided he would prefer breakfast to more torture. Gacey gave me the key. Peacock put it in the lock and turned it. It was almost easy. Almost.

Alec, the ex-SEAL and one of my tech geniuses, was with us, and he created a VoIP call, routed through the internet via a complex network of servers. Using special software, through a private branch exchange (PBX), He used Peacock's supercell number to make the receiver believe the call was coming from Paramus, New Jersey, when it was really coming from us routed around the world through Lithuania. Setting up the time delay was a piece of cake.

After preparing Peacock and setting the script, we made the call.

"Extension 4576, who may I say is calling?" the voice on the other end of the phone answered.

This is Deacon Peacock. I'm calling for Mr. Teetotaler.

"Please hold."

Peacock looked nervous. He was sweating. Sitting there in his underwear, looking like a scolded schoolboy. This was not a video call. For security reasons, of course. Alec, Duane, Dom and Avi were with us. And we waited. And waited.

"Deke?" the booming voice on the other end of the phone called out. "God, man, I thought you were dead. Where the fuck are you?"

"An undisclosed location in Jersey."

"Even to me, old friend."

"Please, Miles. Maybe especially you. I'm in a bad way right now, but I've got lots of gold and my most loyal troops and I'm looking to get back in the game."

"Back in the game, huh? Haven't you been following the news, Deke? Your whole district has been burned. All five states. I haven't been able to raise you on the phone or any of your lieutenants. But your soldiers, who have deserted you have tried to seek back pay and employment with some of the district managers in the Mid-Atlantic region and in New England."

"Gacey is with me and a couple of my lieutenants from the Delaware Valley. Have you heard from any other of my officers?"

"A couple. They are looking for work and not speaking very highly of you. What makes you think the organization wants you back after your massive fuck-up? Do you know how much product we have lost? Hundreds, gone. What makes you think...?"

"You know I'm worth a second chance. I've been a good producer for a long time. My people and I just need to get our feet back under us. I need product, Miles. And I can bring some as well, if you wish."

"Let's see, Deke; you're on the run with maybe one or two low-ranking officers and a handful of support troops. What could you possibly be bringing to the table? What do you have that I might want?"

"Gold, Miles. I've got a shitpile of the stuff, maybe fifty mil."

"How did you manage that? I've seen what they did to your palace."

"Fortunately, I was forewarned and had the stuff stored offsite."

I prodded him and mouthed the word 'auction.'

"I could bring it down to Maryland if that is where the next auction will be. I believe there is one scheduled for the nineteenth."

"That date blew up as soon as product started exiting your states. Do you know how many girls we lost? Until then, we had one heck of an inventory. That auction was all about your product."

"Thanks to me, Miles. Who do you think acquired those girls? And I can do it again. But I need a basis to work from; to keep my troops loyal and working and my lieutenants happy. I need an auction. I'm starting from scratch here. I need liquidity right now."

Alec gave me the sign that our time on the call was growing short before they picked up our location. So I prodded Peacock and encouraged him to end the call.

"I have to go now, Miles. Please tell me when the next auction will be. I'll make it worth your while."

"We still have plenty of inventory here in the Mid-Atlantic so it will probably take place sometime in June. Can I call you back sometime when I have a more definitive answer?"

No fuckin' way. I let Peacock know that he would call Teetotaler back in the future and to tell him he had to be fluid right now. He understood. Alec gave me the sign to hurry it up. Dom was tapping that cattle prod on his palm.

"Miles, give me a few days and I'll call you back when I'm settled in. Gotta go."

*CLICK*

Alec heaved a sigh of relief. They hit Lithuania, but the signal never got to Jersey. In all, with the time delay, the call took about seven minutes, but we would never have held them to eight. By then they'd know we were in Southeastern Pennsylvania. Next time, Alec would run the call through the Mediterranean. Just to throw them off. Then maybe via New York to confuse things further.

The connection had been made, and the clock was ticking. But it appeared we had a little more time with the cancellation of the May auction. Or was that a red herring?

"Tell me,Deke," I asked. "Where is Teetotaler's home base? You know the man. He's your buddy. Where does he hang his hat?"

"His is a hat that moves around a lot. Mostly in the Mid-Atlantic, but he has known to come north and sometimes south."

"His number is a Maryland exchange. What is his address in Maryland?"

"I can't tell you that."

"Can't or won't? We'll see. For now, you get your omelet, but afterwards, it's the same routine. No food, no sleep and no fuckin' parrot. Raven is working harder for me than he ever did for you. He's a better torture device than the rack, with a side of flogger."

We left him to his own devices, and Domingo went to make him his omelet. In the meantime, I wanted to speak with the ladies. Such as they were. Ladies, indeed.

Avi had the brilliant idea of bringing them outside so we could put a breath of fresh air between them and ourselves. At least outside we could keep a distance from our captive women. Barefoot, in nothing but their underwear, we unleashed them from the ball and chain set up and marched them outside.

This safe house was a small working farmette of about twenty acres. There was a six-bedroom farmhouse, a smaller house for the two couples who maintained the property, a barn and accommodations for animals we kept. There was a fenced-in chicken coop with a dozen or so chickens, and in the barn half a dozen sheep, two cows and four large pigs in their own aromatic sty. The barn smelled worse than the two women so that is where we started. We just sucked it up for now to get from them what we wanted.

"Well, ladies. You thought it couldn't get any worse; well look where it has gotten us. I want what I want, and if I don't get it, you just may be spending the night wallowing with the pigs. And they smell even worse than you."

"What can we possibly know that you don't know already?" A slovenly looking Greta Goldheimer asked.

"Tell me about Teetotaler, Greta. What do you know about him? I'm certain you've been to his auctions. I may have plans to send you back for another. Or not. But you will tell me what you know about him, like where I can find him. Where does the son of a bitch live?"

"Somewhere in the state of Maryland. Nobody knows for sure. And the auctions are held at different venues every time. Nobody knows where until the last minute."

"Come on, ladies. Fess up. I think I see one of those pigs eyeing you up. I can't imagine what he would do after getting a sniff of one of you."

"Greta would know," Francois said. "He used to have a thing for her."

"Shut up, Frankie. Don't you..."

"I'm not sleeping with those pigs tonight. You tell her what she wants to know."

"Yes, Greta, tell me. I understand that once you get the pig smell into your olfactory system, it's a long time before you can get it out. At least you won't have to worry about how your friend Frankie smells then."

"The damned sheep are just as bad," Avi said. But at least I can eat them."

"I'll bet after spending all that time with Raven, either of these gals would just love to spend a night in the chicken coop. Cock-a-doodle-doo." Domingo said.

"There it is," I said with a joyful expression. "We're running out of room at the farmhouse anyway. The barn seems like the perfect accommodation for you gals. And with the weather so warm, it will be all the better. What say you, ladies?"

"Yes, I have been to Miles Teetotaler's home, and it is resplendent. Bigger than Deacon's property. I've been there several times. I can tell you it is in western Maryland, but I can't tell you where. All I can tell you is that we flew into Hagerstown Airport, and it was about a thirty-minute ride to Miles' place. The limo windows were always blacked out when I went."

"Tell me, Greta, did you sleep with him?"

"I did. Miles is unencumbered by the fetishes of his subordinates and peers and likes a mature woman. But the chemistry just wasn't there, and the relationship dissolved into just business."

"Good," Avi said. "Thirty minutes from Hagerstown, heading west. Tell us about the property, Miss Goldheimer. What's the layout?"

"The property and the house are bigger than Deacon's. With several outbuildings. Can we get out of this damned barn? My eyes are burning in here."

"Sure," I said. "My eyes are burning a bit too. Let's take it outside."

So, we took it outside, but the questioning didn't end.

It sounded to me like this place wasn't too far from the rehab hospital that our redheaded biker friend Becky Gaffney had stayed at. RFS had gained the account at Indian Springs, so I had operators working in the area. It was far from home base, but I just wanted to keep my foot in that door. Just in case. It appeared that just in case is now.

For now, I had what I wanted. A potential location from which, with a lot of computer work, I could ascertain an address. Time to give these gals their just rewards and bring them just a little closer to our side.

"Avi, Dom, get these two back to the house and get them showered. Omelets all around for them. Greta, we will revisit this. After my team has had the opportunity to explore the possibilities. Your job is not done yet. But tonight, you two sleep."

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Jim and Colleen, Rufus and Xena were our farmers out at the safe house. They were especially vetted, no different than any of our operators, but their skills were quite different. Jim, Rufus and Xena were all Army veterans; not the caliber of our bodyguards, but they could hold their own in a firefight. Colleen was a country girl who was raised on one of the few remaining family farms and knew her way around firearms. It was not their job to protect the property, but to give it the look of a farm rather than a safe house. And it worked, because what we had was a real working farm. With a greenhouse of its own. Colleen and Xena were into canning and the former was our house butcher. She taught Bertha just about all she knew about butchering.

The safe house had more farm acreage than the garden at my house and actually raised animals for use as food. They bred and butchered them on an as-needed basis, especially the chickens from which a regular supply of our eggs came. Last night's Chicken ala King came from the safe house. A particularly nasty hen that just didn't get along with the others became dinner and stock for chicken soup. Holly's mother's recipe, of course.

Our four farmers were always joined by at least two bodyguards; even when the house stood empty. When it was full, like now, we had six guards. Not including us, when we visited.

Xena was the cook, and she kept the gruel flowing for our visitors. Applesauce and a bowl of oatmeal was about what they could expect when special rewards were not granted.

With us, we took three dozen eggs when we left to go home. Nothing fresher anywhere. Bertha would be pleased. Brown eggs to augment the white ones we got from our farmer friends out in Lancaster County.

When I walked into the house the kids were not yet home, but Holly was the first to let me know that I stunk. "Have you been out to Lancaster?" she asked.

"Yes, I said. And dropped the brown eggs off to Bertha, who knew exactly where I'd been."

"You go off and shower now, missy. Don't want to be stinkin' up the house now."

I excused everyone for the day, including Dom, and let the regular guard contingency lord over the house. Tonight, after the kids were in bed, Duane and I would start searching out potential coordinates for Teetotaler's house. It wouldn't bring me any closer to the location or time of the auction, but it would give me another target to strike. If I was of a mind, of course.

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When Duane arrived home after one spectacular kiss that made me flush from my toes to my nose, he told me that he had gotten a phone call. From his brother.

"What did Davante want?" I asked. "I hope the F.B.I. is not looking to put another bug up my ass."

"It didn't sound like it. But he did say that he and Harley wanted to come up for dinner one night soon. He didn't say that he had something to discuss with me, but I sure felt like he did. You know twins' feelings. I know he's been under a lot of pressure lately with all that's been going on because of our raids on the houses here and in Jersey. Not to mention the sequalae of all those girls giving themselves up to the authorities. A lot of this is an F.B.I. matter. And it's falling into his lap as agent in charge over there."

"This feels like nothing but trouble, but we should do this sooner rather than later. Book it for next Saturday. We'll do a late dinner after the kids go to bed. That way we can talk. If I can get rid of Holly."

"Maybe Chuck will be in town if we are lucky."

"That's the day the auction is supposed to be held. However, if you believe Teetotaler, that auction has been postponed, so the date is open."

"I say it's too soon to even consider that date, whether it is canceled or not. Let's do it. I'll call Vante and set it up. Who knows, maybe it's good news. Maybe he asked her to marry him. He wouldn't be the first Royce brother to fall in love and do that. Would he?"

"You just be patient, old man. Your time is coming. Speaking of. Let's jet out to your place tonight and do that thing."

"No objection from me. I'll tap Danny and see if he can do the escort duty along with Ronnie."

"Oh? Two tonight?"

"Yeah. I just want to feel extra secure. And I don't want to be thinking of anything but you."

"Ahhh. Ain't you a sweetie. I love you, Duane. So much."

"You know I love you too, blondie. You are the butter on my bread."

"And you are the bread for my butter, blackie."

Holly was outside watching Celeste do her laps, so I went out and approached her.

"Holl. Duane has asked me out to dinner tonight. Could you watch the kids and get them into bed? We want to make it an early dinner and a late night, if you know what I mean."

"Oh, I know what you mean, you minx. Chuck's coming by this weekend, so I may ask you to return the favor."

"Done and done."

So, Duane and I went upstairs and checked on the babies, who are not so much babies anymore. They are almost one and bopping around like nobody's business. They're almost toddlers and you know what that means. Duanee is just starting to walk, and the little Diva is on the cusp.

I kissed the big ones goodbye and Duane and I took off for his place, followed by Ronnie and Danny in two separate cars. They laughed when Duane threw me over his shoulder and carried me into the house. I just smiled. Broadly.

Duane wasted no time in getting down to business. My back hit the bed before my feet hit the floor. Which didn't happen for a good hour. My man understands the need for foreplay, during play and after care. After a session under him, the aftercare is definitely necessary. Definitely.

We stopped making love, briefly, to have some eggs and coffee, and then we went back to making that quiet kind of love I relish ending my night with. We didn't leave his place till almost midnight. My fault, not his. I just didn't want to get out of that bed. But we did, and home we went.

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On Monday morning, Duane called Davante to set up dinner for Saturday, but Vante was under it and could not take the call. So, Duane left a message for them to come up on Friday and spend the weekend, if they could. Vante and Harley had come out as a couple, with the F.B.I.'s blessing, so staying with us, with family, would not be a problem. But it took until after business hours, as Duane was driving home, for his brother to call him back.

As much as he was under the gun, Davante had said fuck it, and decided to take the weekend off with his girl to recharge. And to see his brother. So we were set for a later arrival Friday night with a light breakfast for dinner when they got here. Bertha would be gone by then, so it would be on me to make it. As usual, though, Bertha had my back, and most of what I had to do would be premade. Home fries, batter for pancakes and decaf coffee in the urn. I could make the bacon and eggs myself. I learned from the best.

The week sped by, and Alec, Duane and I spent a portion of it seeking out Teetotaler's domicile. We studied miles of satellite images of western Maryland, focusing on the wealthiest areas with the most acreage. We took dozens of the satellite photos to Greta Goldheimer, who was very cooperative, having been offered showers and first-class meals as a reward. And sleep. Both she and her friend, Frankie, benefited from her cooperation. So did we.

There were three properties that were distinct possibilities, and we focused on them. None of the three were very far from Indian Springs Country Estate, where Becky the Biker had stayed. This begged the question, why haven't I spoken to my Soul Riders friends in so long? So I gave Toothy a call on Thursday. Just to see how my friends out in western Pennsylvania were doing.

"Soul Riders. Who the fuck is this?"

"It's Hannah Todd. Who the fuck is this?"

'Oh, I'm sorry, Queen Bee. I didn't mean nothing by it. This is Hound Dog. You know me."

"Sure do. And there ain't nothing but you. I'm calling for Toothy. He around?"

"He's out on a job, Queen Bee, but Hangar and Tiny are around. They're getting' hitched."

"And I'm just hearing this now?"

"I'm sure they mean to call and tell you, it's just been so crazy busy around here lately."

"Do me a favor, Hound Dog, let me speak to Tiny."

"Right away, Queen Bee. You hold tight, and you be the queen that you are."

After a couple of minutes, the phone picked up and it was Becky, my dear friend and biker babe.

"Hannah. How's my best friend in the world?"

"Doing great. And how's my favorite little redhead?"

"Crazy in love, Queen Bee. And doing great. Hanger and me... we're getting married. He's so great."

"I'm so happy for you. I know he is crazy in love with you. Are you still wearing Quay's colors?"