The Auction

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 Seven

Now that the pressure of the golf tournament was behind us, we could concentrate on the important matters at hand. The next auction, and how the inhabitants of the safe house could help us with that.

The auction would be a month away, and I had pretty much been laying off Peacock and his people for now. I'd been treating them well; too well if you asked me. And it appeared that a bit of Stockholm Syndrome had set in. They were cooperating at this juncture almost as if we were old friends chatting about sports or the latest fashion.

Peacock was garnering more time with his bird, who was no longer torturing the other captives. Everyone was bathing regularly, sleeping and eating; at times, more than just oatmeal and applesauce.

As May became June, we brought photo after photo gleaned from that videoconference call with Miles Teetotaler and his people. We were getting names, affiliation information and even the whereabouts of some of these people even the facial rec folks didn't have on record. In all, between facial rec and the people in the safe house, we had the book on no less than eighteen of these people, and the list is growing. Thank you, Lizzie. More than a couple of them presented as fine, upstanding citizens. And all were rich as sin. Some from overseas.

Saturday, the third, was Celeste's tenth birthday, and the little doc wanted a pool party. Who is surprised about that? So we had it outside, and Bertha manned her grill and fed the lot. There were kids from school and the playgroup, the swimmers and of course our kids. And lots of the bodyguards who held the young lady in high esteem. Of course, all the Tuttlehills were there.

As hard as it is for me to relax, I was almost giddy from the state of relaxation I fell into at Celeste's party. Everyone was having so much fun, and there were so many of my guys around I just let my cares slip away and dive-bombed into the pool without a care. So unlike me. Even Holly had a laugh at that. Chuck was here for the party, and Holly was always feeling fit and fine when he was around.

Celeste, generally most comfortable alone, doing her laps or studying her medical texts, was splashing and acting like the ten year old she really was. I really hate that with her big brain she has a hard time just being a kid sometimes. Knowing so much at such a young age must be hard for her. But today she was just another ten-year-old frolicking with her friends. I caught her joy. And then the fuckin' phone rang.

I looked at my wrist and it was Davante, Duane's brother. Oh Lord, please make this about family and not about business. But the Lord wasn't listening to me today. Dammit.

"Hannah, it's Davante. I hate to bother you on the weekend, and I know you are partying, but I got a call from friggin Russo. She asked if she could meet with me this week. She told me she's coming up to compare notes with Harley about the girls who keep showing up. I can arrange..."

"What's the fuckin' urgency, Vante? What does the bitch want now?"

"She wouldn't tell me, but said that she needed to speak with you alone. What's going on, Hannah? Are you trying to snake her away from the bureau?"

"Honestly, I've considered it, but I really don't like her, and I've made no offers. I'd still like to get my hands on Harley, though."

"Leave my woman alone, Hannah Todd. I need her now more than ever."

"Alright. Listen, set us up for Wednesday. Lunch at my place. If she can't do that, I won't take the meeting. Clear?"

"I'll let her know. Can I have her contact you directly if need be?"

"Sure. Give her my supercell number but tell her to use it sparingly. I don't have time for her bullshit, and today, I have no more time for her. Wednesday lunch, got it?"

"Thanks, Hannah. I just don't want the bitch onmyback."

"Same here. Kiss Harley for me."

"Will do. Thanks again."

*CLICK*

No sooner did I hang up from that call when my supercell rang in in again. This time, however, it was a friend. It was Rhee.

"So, Hannah, have you heard from her yet?"

"Kind of. I got a call from Duane's brother, the F.B.I. agent. Is this of your doing? I'm meeting with Russo on Wednesday."

"Yep. You now own her debt. A little north of thirty-six grand, and growing. Wait till you get my bill on this one."

"She's not gonna stop, Rhee, is she?"

"If I were a betting woman, I'd wager she is at the track right now. Making things worse for herself."

"And better for me."

"That's right. Now you possess your very own F.B.I. agent. If I were you, I'd have her on her knees begging me for a better vig. These guys were charging her around forty percent. There's no way she could meet that nut."

"Good. I expect it will be money well spent. What did you tell her about me?"

"I didn't. The shark that had her under his thumb told her that her debt had been purchased by another shark out of Philly. I guess if she has been in touch, she deduced the rest. She's a fool, but she's no idiot."

"As far as I'm concerned, she's both. For her to allow herself such exposure with the job she has is ridiculous. She got in touch through Davante, my soon to be brother-in-law. I expect he thinks she's coming up here to confront me about all the girls who have been rescued. He should only know. He thinks she's trouble, but that shit's gonna stop right now. I see her on Wednesday, and boy am I gonna dress her down."

"You do that, Hannah. She deserves worse than you can give her."

"I don't know. I could be a bit of bitch when I want to."

"And a total badass."

"So I've been told. Thanks, Rhee. As always you make me more of a badass than I make myself."

"Nah. When it comes to badassery, you are number one in my book."

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Two and half weeks until the twins turn one and three and a half weeks until the auction. And the pressure is on. So far I have been pretty sweet to my captives, but theyhavebeen pretty cooperative. I have asked and I have received.

But I had concerns about the intel I have been receiving from Teetotaler's place. My number one drone is running out of gas, and I want to keep number two in reserve for the all-important information we would receive the day before the auction.

When I inquired about Simon, nobody in the safe house had ever seen him and have no idea what he looks like. Peacock believed he would attend via the videoconference link, but never be seen. Teetotaler, of course, as the auctioneer would be there in person.

I spent some time with each of my charges and asked them each the same questions. Just to make sure I was getting straight answers. So far so good. Kind of.

It appears that no firearms would be allowed at the auction, so if we went in we went in unarmed. The auctioneer's bodyguards would be carrying machine guns and sidearms, and the drones and Autonomous Security Robots would be armed as well. When Hoagie heard that, he went ballistic, but he was still going in. He lived by his wits anyway, and it had kept him out of trouble in the past. I wanted to send Juicy in with him, but I wanted her in the background with her Little Bird. Duane acquired some ammo for the miniguns and she'd go in fully armed. No missiles, however. So I tapped Romy, who would go in as the lead. We would disguise her as Francois Peintre, a French-Canadian woman with her four male escorts including Hoagie. She would look to be in charge, but it was Hoagie's show if things went south. The no firearms rule was confirmed by all of my captives.

The next item on the agenda was protocol, and entry to the proceedings. According to all my captives, only a picture ID would be required for entry; drivers licenses or passports. The invitation given during the videoconference call would be enough for them to cover security. Too loose in my book, but if that's how they roll, good for us. Besides, Francois had never been to an auction so she was known, if at all, by name rather than appearance. Romy's build was close enough, and I had Rhee's makeup artist on speed dial and would have her ready the day before the operation to get Romy tuned up. She would speak only French, and Avi, who was definitely going, would translate. Ninja would be going too, with two bodyguards as an Asian bidder who spoke little English.

Next, we spoke of the setup. How the place would be laid out. Gacey said it was always the same. Always done in a warehouse, and the girls to be auctioned could be picked through before the auction in a separate chamber and the auction room was set up with chairs, although not everyone would be seated. Only the bidders. Girls would be marched out one at a time and auctioned off quickly. Numbered paddles for which you'd have to sign for, were given to each bidder, and a one hundred thousand dollar refundable gold retainer would be taken from each bidder upon signing up at the door. These days that meant about ten one ounce gold bars.

Security would be tight. According to both Peacock and Gacey, as well as dozens of human guards, there would be Autonomous Security Robots and drones both inside and outside the venue. All ASRs and drones would be armed, which attendants found intimidating. I would have to tap Rhee Spanner's people to help with this. Nobody knows their way around automated security like them. If they could turn those drones around and use them to our benefit, it could be a game changer.

"Tell me, Tom," I asked Peacock's administrator. "How do the girls get there? I expect they are coming from different locations, but I doubt whether they will be riding along with the buyers coming to the auction."

"You are correct. Some, the ones supplied via the auctioneer, will be brought in by bus. Others, supplied by members of the company will be arriving separately by car and probably dropped at the venue the day before the auction."

"The company?"

"That's how everyone refers to Simon's organization."

"And how far does his power span?"

"Nobody on Deacon's team knows. I certainly don't and if I don't even the boss doesn't know."

"Could he control all fifty states?"

"I guess it's possible. He is a true man of mystery."

"Would the auctioneer know?"

"Nah. He's just a tool. He has no territory of his own, but he does keep inventory. Mostly for other members prior to auctions."

"So he owns no enslaved women himself?"

"Maybe a few, just to keep his whistle wet. But he is in charge of collecting the product that will be presented for any given auction."

"Hmmm. And you think they can auction off over a hundred girls in a single night? This must be a significant warehouse to fit that many girls and a place to do the auctioning."

"Significant, indeed. But they do tend to keep many of the girls in the buses as storage prior to their being auctioned. Others will be kept at the venue either chained up or in cages."

"Very good, Tom. Eggplant lasagna for you today, made by my own cook. You've earned it."

"Thank you, Miss Todd. I almost feel like you will be letting me live."

"Well, let's see how the auction washes out. It's not off the table."

"In that case, I wish you luck. You are gonna need it. You have very little chance of success, though."

"Why do you say that, Tom?"

"They've been doing this for a long time, and the system has worked perfectly all that time. You, as good as your people are, will have an uphill battle against them."

"Don't you worry. I'm used to running uphill. Thanks for spilling the beans, Tom. But we still have more that I will need to know. As we get closer to the event, you and I will have much more to talk about."

Before leaving the safe house, I spent a few minutes with the captive women, Goldheimer and her friend, Frankie. Greta confirmed what Gacey had told me, but her friend stayed quiet. Knowing she hadn't attended any of Teetotaler's auctions, I gave her a pass. But she asked me a question, which blew my mind.

"What are you going to do with all those girls when this is all over?" she said, as if she expected us to be successful. "That will be as much of a challenge as overcoming Teetotaler's troops."

"I don't know yet. Maybe we'll have some buses of our own."

With the auction coming up in the next couple of weeks, I wanted to do two things; contact Rhee and get my A-team together for a Greenhouse meeting.

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"So, Hannah, what's up now? Have you got your auction plan together yet?"

"Let's say I've got the bones and I know what to expect. One piece that I have to secure right now is you. This is going to be an all hands on deck operation, and that means your people too."

"People, huh? Technicians or combat troops?"

"Both. I just won't have enough of my own people that I trust so I'm going to need some combatants. But mostly I'm calling because I'm going to need some drone killers. We also have ASRs to consider. I'm gonna need Tripper times ten for this operation. They will have Eagles, hawks and ASRs we'll have to disarm before we can start our hell raising."

"Or, my dear, we can use them against them. Nobody can turn a grouping of drones like Tripper. He does have a small crew to help work their drones. Will you be going in with drones of your own? That could complicate matters."

"I haven't spoken to Alec, our resident drone expert, about it but I expected we would go in with some armed drones to lead the attack."

"Do you plan on having one of your Greenhouse meetings in the near future? I think I'd like to have some of my leaders attend, including my techs. Sooner would be better than later."

"Well, the auction is scheduled for the night of June twenty-eighth, so clear your calendar for that day and the day before. It is my understanding they will be working on the venue and even bringing some girls in that day. That night I'll learn the location information."

"I want to know as soon as the venue is named so I can get my people in place."

"How about if we conference on Thursday, and I can video you and your people in?"

"I'll make Thursday work. I'll have Tripper and a couple of his people on the feed as well as Arnold, who I will want to lead our troops in this endeavor."

"Sounds good. How about Thursday at eight p.m.? I want to get the kids into bed before I get started, and that should give me the chance to get my guys together."

"Sounds good, Hannah. Just send me the link to the feed when you are ready."

"Done. See you Thursday."

*CLICK*

On the way home I gave Herman a call at the Navy Yard, where he and Duane were vetting yet more agents for special operations.

"What's up, Hannah? We're vetting more spec-op guys for missions."

"Good, we're gonna need plenty. Herm, I want to get the A-team together Thursday night at the Greenhouse. I'm bringing Rhee in for the meeting too."

"Is this about the auction? It's coming close. Tick Tock, Queen Bee."

"That's why I want to do this now. We'll need prep time and time to plan this operation. It's more complex than what we are used to. Even compared to the home invasion of the Peacock property. Or the liberation of all those girls."

"Duane appointed two members of the assault squad to lieutenant grade. They will be leading that squad in any future endeavors."

"Good guys?"

"Original RFS guys. Very good, very loyal and very trustworthy."

"Okay then. I want them there at Thursday's meeting. This is going to be an all hands on deck event. I want them to meet the team."

"Oh, they know the team. They participated in both the defense or your house and the invasion of Peacock's property. They know the score."

"Good. The assault team needs good leadership outside the A-team. Hopefully these guys will do. How many assaulters do we have now, Herm?"

"With the ones we recently vetted we have twenty-six. A nice adjunct to our first line guys."

"Good. We're gonna need every one of them on the twenty-eighth."

"They're a pretty gung-ho bunch. They'll be there."

"That's what I want to hear. Get those calls going, Herm. I'll see you and the crew on Thursday."

*CLICK*

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I was looking forward to Wednesday. Kind of. I really wanted Russo on her knees, but I didn't want to break her. I needed her to be my bitch, but I needed her to be strong as an F.B.I. agent. If she was to do my bidding, I wanted her to do it from a position of strength.

She finished up her business with Davante and Harley Tanner at around eleven and gave me a call to say she expected to be at my place at noon. I told her I was looking forward to it. She seemed a little confused by that, but I found it amusing that she thought she had the upper hand.

When she arrived at my house at about ten after twelve, I greeted her with a firm handshake, and she looked at me like I had two heads. The last time we met, I had long hair, and she had to give me a second look to make sure she was dealing with the same person.

Domingo was with us, as well as Bertha in the kitchen, and we kept the conversation light. I promised her that we could have our private conversation after lunch, in my office. I wanted that conversation recorded, so Herb would be listening in as he recorded the meeting with the hidden mics in the office.

When lunch was finished, we took it upstairs, and she was shocked that Dom was going to join us.

"What I have to say to you, Miss Todd, should be said in private. We shouldn't..."

"This is private. There is nothing I need to hear from you that Dom can't hear. He is my closest confidant, who would hear about the conversation, anyway. Even if he was not in the room at the time. So, to what do I owe this meeting?"

"It's about all the girls we are dealing with."

"No, it isn't. You're here to inquire if I had anything to do with their liberation. Isn't that right?"

"Yes. I don't have any more than a gut feeling, but it's strong."

"Tell me, Miss Russo, would you like a drink? A scotch, maybe?"

"I"d love a scotch."

"No you wouldn't, Carlotta. You've had enough to drink. It's time you cut it out."

"I-I-I..."

"Yes, you. I'll bet you couldn't pass a breathalyzer test right now. And you are on duty. Shame on you. But that's not the worst of it. Is it, Carlotta?"

"I don't know what..."

"Sure you do. Does the name Toto Spinoza ring a bell? Huh, Carlotta?"

"S-S-Spinoza? I'm sure I don't know what..."

"Oh, you know alright. He's the guy I bought your marker from. Forty grand is quite the debt. How do you propose to pay it back?

"Forty thousand? I thought it was only..."

"Interest, Carlotta. Just the vig alone is gonna be a grand a month. I'm certain the Director of the F.B.I. is going to be upset that one of his special agents is a gambler, and a loser at that. Not to mention a drunk."

The Auction Ch. 07

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