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Heavy Traffic Ch. 01

By: BobbyBrandt



Some men deserve to die, but these three deserved to spend the rest of their miserable lives wishing they were dead.

Sean "Recon" Wallace heard the woman screaming as soon as the doors to the van had opened. Noticing headlights in the pre-dawn darkness he had watched the van driving to the remote cabin of his neighbor Glenn Parker as he was cutting through the woods on his way to his own cabin about a mile farther into the southwest Georgia wilderness. The winding dirt road the van had chosen only had one destination, and Sean knew that Glenn neither invited guests to his cabin, nor welcomed them. Glenn's lack of hospitality wouldn't be an issue however, because he was currently in Washington, DC arguing a court case on behalf of one of the several Native American tribes that he represented on a Pro Bono basis.

Glenn Parker took pride in the history of his cabin and resisted any impulse to improve upon its rustic nature. His great-grandfather had built the cabin out of hardwood logs that he had harvested himself from the land surrounding the site. The fireplace was constructed from stones that had once sat on the riverbed of the Flint River before the Army Corp of Engineers had dredged the channel to accommodate deep draft vessels. There was no glass in the windows, only shutters to open and close as the weather dictated. There was no running water, but there was a well pump handle mounted over the soap stone sink along the interior rear wall of the cabin as well as one on the side of the outhouse. Glenn would often be found by Sean using a bow saw to slice strips from a cedar log in order to have replacement shingles for his roof. The effort required to maintain the old cabin wasn't extensive, and Sean knew that Glenn relished the manual labor involved after having spent his professional career behind a desk or standing in a courtroom.

Sean had left his own cabin well before dawn to check his traps. He had retrieved his captured prey and had expected to be back to his cabin before sunrise, but this diversion would obviously delay his plans to leave for the 250 mile drive to Atlanta. Tying his trapped Muskrat carcasses to the branch of a Live Oak tree, Sean had quietly approached Glenn's cabin from downwind as he had learned even before his Marine Corp Force Recon Training had tattooed the skill into his conscious and unconscious thoughts.

Not that there was much wind on this Wednesday morning in the middle of May. Later in the afternoon, as the heat of the day increased, the thunderstorms common to the area would likely arrive and bring with them gusts and possibly tornadoes, although these tended to stay to the north of this location. For now, Sean was comfortable with the temperature in the high sixties and the pre-dawn skies clear. 

Establishing an observation spot about 20 feet up on the branch of a Shagbark Hickory that had already sprouted most of its new growth leaves, he was in position prior to the van's eventual arrival, and he was well situated to witness the intentions of the men by both their words and their actions.

Reverting again to his training, Sean assigned 'Tango' designations to each of his targets. Tango One was acting as a leader of the group, giving orders to the other two as he used a knife to start cutting the clothes from the woman. He was just under six feet, early forties, with a protruding forehead, dark Slavic hair and caveman-like features. Tango Two was about the same height and build, but lighter in skin tone and hair color. He was currently using a pry bar to remove the padlock and hasp from the door to Glenn's cabin. Tango Three stood a few inches over six feet, was thinner than his partners, but had the same simian characteristics as his associates. He alternated between holding an automatic rifle on the woman and unloading what appeared to be camera equipment from the back of the van.

The woman continued to scream and struggle, but several brutal blows from Tango One to her abdomen took the sound out of her. Tango One had a handful of her long brunette hair wrapped into one of his fists as he pulled her face to his and yelled at her, "Just because I don't want any bruising or signs of abuse visible before we shoot our little movie, don't think for a second that you won't experience great pain if you fail to do exactly as you are told. Do you understand me Bitch?"

Tango One lessened his grip on her hair enough to allow her to respond with a nod, and then tightened it again as Tango Two got the cabin door open and swung it wide for her to be pushed inside. Sean heard her stumble and fall into the cabin with the obvious sound of furniture being overturned in the process. When he saw one of the Tangos was opening all the shutters around the cabin, Sean quickly sought an observation post that would allow him to monitor the situation as it developed inside the cabin. He realized that this "green mission," where he would only need to assess, report, call in support and evade detection was going to become a "black mission" very soon, with him needing to neutralize the targets and extricate the hostage.

Moving behind a large Laurel Oak tree on the north side of the cabin, Sean had a clear view through one of the windows. The early pre-dawn moonlight was coming through a west facing window, allowing enough light for the Tangos to navigate the cabin and for Sean to observe their movements. He watched as Tango Two moved the overturned furniture out of their way while Tango Three began setting up lights and cameras, which Sean found interesting since Glenn's rustic cabin didn't have any electricity. Tango One was still taunting and threatening the woman with his knife, occasionally cutting another piece of her clothing so that it would fall away from her body.

With his advanced training in lethal and non-lethal close quarter combat, Sean really didn't need a weapon to be able to handle all three of the Tangos. Seven members of an al Qaeda terrorist group had the misfortune of running into Sean while they were attempting to breach the American Embassy in Tanzania. It had been a slaughter. All seven terrorists, each tough, hardened and armed, were dead within five minutes. Sean never even pulled his gun. He did it all with his hands, elbows and feet, moving with a speed, precision and power that the other Marine guards—with all their world travels—had never before encountered.

Sean did have his Sharpfinger hunting knife if circumstances required, but he saw an opportunity to disarm and secure the Tangos without any struggle at all. Picking up a thin but sturdy eight inch piece of fallen tree branch about one-half inch in diameter and sliding around the cabin to the front porch, Sean tested the stability of the planks as he stepped lightly on the first one. He detected no sound or obvious vibration from his movement. Using this same degree of care and skill, he continued up on the porch and waited just outside the open door. Tango Two had pulled the mattress off Glenn's bed and placed it in the center of the room. Tango Three was moving back towards the door while facing his partners inside the room.

Once Tango Three was positioned with his body fully in the center of the doorframe with one of the cameras and had turned on the bright battery powered light affixed to it, Sean crouched behind him and pressed the hard piece of tree branch into his groin from behind. As Tango Three froze at the feeling of what he thought was the barrel of a gun against his privates, Sean quickly pulled the automatic rifle from his shoulder where it had hung by its strap while filming was getting prepared.

Tango One was preoccupied preparing the woman for their first scene, while Tango Two had begun undressing. Sean put the rifle on "single shot" and fired one round into the rafters above the room. Pushing Tango Three before him into the room, the camera clattered to the floor where the light shattered and extinguished. Having been behind the camera light, Sean's eyes adjusted to the loss much quicker than the others in the room. Sean saw that Tango One had pulled the woman in front of himself as a shield, holding her hair with his left hand as he raised the knife menacingly with his right hand.

With a speed of motion that surprised even Sean, the woman pivoted on her right foot, while at the same time digging the fingernails from both hands into the wrist holding the knife and pushing it away from her. Before Tango One could respond by yanking the woman's hair, she had brought her left knee into his groin. As her knee connected, Tango One grunted and released both her hair and the knife as he doubled over in pain. The woman quickly scurried away from his reach, retrieving the knife from the floor as she stood with her back against the wall brandishing the weapon in a defensive posture.

While the smell of cordite filled the morning air, Sean kept the rifle trained on the three Tangos as he motioned for the woman to come to him. She looked drawn and frightened, but after some initial hesitation, she moved around the periphery of the room to the door of the cabin with Sean standing between her and the three men.

She never took her eyes from Sean as she moved towards him. He was shorter than any of the three other men, probably around five foot ten inches, but he seemed so much bigger than them. She noted his long sandy colored hair, handsome facial features underneath several days of unshaven growth, broad shoulders and slim muscular physique. He was wearing blue jeans, low-rise leather hiking boots, and a tan fishing vest over a white polo shirt. While not muscle-bound, he exuded a strength such as she had never seen before in a man. If he wasn't the best looking man she had ever seen, which she suspected he might be, he was definitely the man she had the hardest time taking her eyes off of.

Her first impression upon looking into his dark blue eyes, even in the dim light available, was one of a feral beast who had been wounded or cornered. An almost inhuman rage emanated from his expression towards the other men. She thought that it must be making the blood in the marrow of the men congeal with fright, but she instinctively knew that she was safe with him. Visions of heroes from all the romance novels she had read as a teenager came to mind, but this man surpassed images from any of those books. His radiated strength and confidence made her feel instantly safe and secure. There was also a familiarity to him that she could not explain. Like the arrow of a compass, she was drawn in his direction as if he were her magnetic north. She knew that she had never seen this man before - she would have definitely remembered him.

"Wallets on the floor. Now!" Sean ordered as he brushed some of his hair off his face..

Tango Two and Three quickly removed their wallets and tossed them onto the floor at Sean's feet. Tango One was still recovering from the woman's assault, so he was slower to respond. With obvious effort, he straightened enough to reach into the rear pocket of his pants, removed his wallet and tossed it on the floor with the others.

"Now, I want the three of you in a kneeling position on the floor where you will interlock your ankles and remain perfectly still. Once situated, you will each place your hands on top of your heads."

When the three men were in a controlled position on the wooden plank floor, Sean knelt and began reviewing their identification within each wallet. "If the names on your driver's licenses are correct you all have names of Slavic origin. Are any of you United States citizens?"

Tango One and Three just shook their heads, but Tango Two added in heavily accented English, "Green Cards. We're in the country legally."

Sean tucked some loose hairs behind his ear and checked the wallets further finding current permanent resident identification cards for each under the same names as on the driver's licenses.

"Too bad," Sean said. "Permanent residency does not equal citizenship, and that means that you are all still foreign nationals, which under the current Presidential Finding on Domestic Terrorism means that you are not afforded the protections under our Constitution guaranteed to citizens. There are more than thirty very painful ways I could kill each of you, but as long as you do what I tell you, I promise you will leave this cabin alive."

The three men nodded in silent acceptance of their situation. Sean told Tangos Two and Three to return the mattress to Glenn's bed and then resume their positions next to Tango One. With the mattress on the bed, Sean motioned towards it and asked the woman to go sit on the bed while he dealt with their prisoners. She hesitated for a moment as she considered how far away from her savior she felt comfortable with while the three men were still in the cabin with them. Trusting that this stranger had them secure enough to send her away from him, and still holding the knife, she moved to the bed as he requested.

"Take off your belts," Sean instructed the three Tangos.

Tangos Two and Three complied quickly, but Tango One struggled to remove his belt with the continuing pain in his groin. Sean assumed that her blow had not only been well placed, but that it was also delivered with significant power for the man to still be in so much pain. Once all the belts were loose Sean had Tango Three secure Tango One and Tango Two's hands in front of their bodies with the belts, followed by Tango Two using his secured hands to also secure those of Tango Three in the same fashion.

"Okay," said Sean, "I want each of you to now lay face down on the floor in front of you."

It took some effort for Tango One, but in quick order all three were in a supine position with their hands stretched out in front of their heads and their ankles still interlocked. Sean knelt on his haunches in front of the men and started asking them questions. "Why did you choose this cabin as the site for your little project," he asked.

Tango Two answered, "We were told it was remote and that the owner would not be here today."

"Who told you this?" asked Sean.

"I do not know his name and we never met him," said Tango Two, "but he is the one who provided us with the van and the gun."

Sean considered this then asked, "How were you supposed to return the van to him?"

"We weren't," was the answer. "It is stolen and we were just supposed to abandon it when we were through.

"How did you contact each other?" Sean continued.

"When we paid for the girl, a cell phone was given to us with a pre-programmed number for us to call."

"Why don't we start at the beginning," Sean said. "Explain to me how you came to purchase this young lady."

Tango Two motioned to Tango One and said, "Andre received a message last week that a cargo shipment included an attractive Australian girl who was untraceable. We have been using girls from the Czech Republic, Slovakia and Romania for mainstream pornographic movies, but when we learned that this girl would be untraceable, we decided to use her for the production of a snuff film."

"How did you arrange for payment?" asked Sean.

"We handed $20,000 to the crewmen who brought her to us from the ship," said Tango Two. "The one who counted the money then gave us the cell phone."

"How did your contact know that you would need the use of a van?"

"Andre had mentioned it when the location for the purchase was communicated to him," said Tango Two.

"And how were the details of the purchase communicated?" Sean asked.

"There is a website for amateur photographers to post ads listing items they either need to buy or want to sell. Coded communications are posted between buyer and seller if you know where to look."

Sean had heard of such sites before being used for all sorts of illicit activities. "What is the name of this website?"

Tango Two thought for a minute and replied, "tornwallpaper.eu".

"Is there anything further you wish to tell me?" asked Sean

"That's all we know," said Tango Two.

Sean stood, approached them and coaxed Tangos Two and Three to move farther away from Tango One so that eventually, there was approximately a two foot space between each of their bodies. Stepping into the space between Tangos Two and Three, Sean laid the rifle aside. He brushed more hair out of his face and then stood facing the same direction that they were laying and adjusted his position until he was satisfied. Without further warning, he seemed to lose all support in his legs as his 170 pound body suddenly dropped; his fall being broken only by the contact of each of his elbows into the spines of the two men. The kinetic energy of his elbow joint striking the lowest indentation of their backs, exactly where the Th6 and Th7 vertebrae were located resulted in the expected "SNAP' sound of breaking bone. Before their screams of pain could reach a zenith, Sean quickly moved over to Tango One and repeated the elbow strike to the same spot on his spine with the same report in return.

Sean retrieved the rifle, wiped his fingerprints from it and then hung it on a hook next to the front door. Looking over to the woman sitting on the bed, Sean considered her situation. She had a few scrapes and bruises on her body, and she appeared slightly malnourished as her ribs were more prominent than they should have been, but otherwise she appeared uninjured. All that remained of her clothing was her bra with both shoulder straps cut and her white panties. She held the knife in her lap as she sat watching him.

She was a very attractive young woman he thought. Her hair was a mess due to the treatment it had received from Tango One, but he could see that it still flattered her facial features, or maybe it was her facial features that flattered her hair. Regardless, she appeared to be in her mid-twenties, with a slender athletic body on her five foot six frame. Her breasts were properly proportioned to her shape, and Sean guessed that they were either large 'B' or small 'C' cups. He judged by the way that their weight did not cause her bra to droop with the straps cut that they were as firm and pert as the rest of her appeared to be. His assessment was deliberately limited to her physical condition, but by the way she held herself before him, there was something about her innocent, yet regal bearing that piqued his interest in several ways.

Sean went to the cedar chest at the foot of Glenn's bed and opened it as the woman continued to silently watch his movements. Rummaging through it for a few minutes, he produced a pair of sweat pants and a T-shirt that while a bit large for the woman, they would provide her with temporary modesty until more appropriate clothing could be located for her. Tucking some more of his long hair behind an ear with one hand, he handed the garments to the woman with his other and asked her, "Did you have any shoes?" 

She set the knife on the bed and shook her head before pulling the T-shirt over it. Sean looked around the cabin and found a pair of flip-flop sandals that Glenn probably used when he had to visit his outhouse during the night. Again, these would be too large for the woman, but they would serve until other footwear could be obtained. Sean brought the sandals to her and laid them at her feet as she finished slipping on the sweatpants. The bottom of the pants hung about three inches below her heels and Sean noticed that she had them pulled up as far at her waist as was possible.

"Would you like me to roll up the bottom of the pants for you?" He asked her in the most soothing voice he could muster. "It might make it easier for you to walk until I can find you something else to wear."

She looked in his eyes and saw a noticeable change from the earlier "beast", so she nodded in response.

"Good," he said. "Why don't you sit back on the bed for a minute and we'll make quick work of this for you."


Heavy Traffic Ch. 01



When she saw that his intentions were just to correct the length of her pant legs, she eased back until she was seated once more on the edge of the bed. She had picked the knife up and again held it in her lap as she watched his movements. She didn't hold the knife out of fear, she held it simply to keep track of where it was.

Sean began with one leg, rolling the fleecy material up until it reached the bottom of her ankle. When he released the material, he noticed that it almost immediately started to unroll itself. Considering the lightweight nature of the pants, he was going to need to secure the rolled up section with something to keep it in place. After a few seconds of thought, he reached into his fishing vest and pulled out a pre-strung fish hook. Using the fish hook and short strand of line much like a needle and thread, he ran a couple of loops of line through the front and back of the rolled material, tying each off with a simple Uni-knot. Satisfied with the results, he repeated the same process with the other pant leg.

"You obviously speak English, right?" It wasn't really a question.

She gave her first small smile as she said, "I speak Australian English, and so I would be more concerned with you understanding me." The smile she blessed him with had been designed in heaven for angels to wear. He knew at that instant that he would strive to see her smile as often as possible.

Sean returned her smile and said, "I have spent a lot of time with the Australian Special Air Service Regiment but none of them spoke in such a sweet accent as yours. Are you okay physically or do you require further medical treatment?"

"I'm fine thanks to you," she said. "Where did you come from?"

Sean stood and walked over to the open door. After looking outside for a minute he motioned her to join him on the porch before he responded quietly. "I have a cabin about a mile from here. I was returning from checking my traps when I saw the van heading down the dirt road leading here and knowing that Glenn Parker, who owns this cabin, was on a business trip, I decided to investigate."

"I'm glad you did," she said. Glancing back in at the three men on the floor she added, "Did you hear what they intended to do?"

Sean also glanced down at the three Tangos on the floor. Their initial pain had rendered them virtually unconscious but an occasional moan could still be heard. Two of the men had visibly evacuated their bladders and from the smell, at least one had also released his bowels. He nodded at the woman in response and said, "I suspect that you would have eventually saved yourself, but I'm glad to have been able to assist."

"Did you just break their spines?" she asked.

Sean studied her face and saw that simple curiosity was the only evident expression present. "Yes I did. I promised them that they would leave this cabin alive, but I couldn't live with myself if I left them capable of ever doing what they had planned for you on some other woman in the future."

She nodded, walked across the porch to the open door and stuck the knife into the wood planks next to the door jam, looked Sean directly in the eyes and said, "Thank you."

"Where did you come from?" Sean asked her. "I mean I assume you're originally from Australia, but how did you come to meet up with this group?"

"I was working as a nurse for an all-girl orphanage in East Timor. On a trip from the orphanage in the Manufahi District to the capital in Dili, our bus was captured by slave traders. Originally, the traders were going to kill me, but they decided to keep me with the girls to help care for them until they could be sold into slavery. I later learned that they decided that I had a market value of my own, so once the ship we were on reached its destination, I was separated from the girls and sold to those men."

"Why would they consider you 'untraceable'?" he asked. "Wouldn't somebody miss you?"

"Right after we were captured I was asked who I was and if I had any family who would pay a ransom for my release. When I told them that I had no family, they stopped asking questions and I was never able to tell them that I had others who would pay for my return."

"How long had these men had you?" Sean asked.

"They bought me this morning," she said, looking out into the early morning darkness in front of the cabin. "We had been on the ship for more than a month by my count of the days. I didn't realize I was in the United States until you mentioned to those men that they were not citizens of this country. Where exactly am I in your country?"

"What?" he asked in amazement. "You mean the ship that you were on came here? You're in the State of Georgia - the very southwest corner. Do you know where that is?" He had assumed that the men had picked her up along the coast and driven her here.

"Not really, but it doesn't matter right now. I know approximately where Atlanta, Georgia is because of the Olympics being held there, but that's the extent of my geographic knowledge. The ship didn't dock as far as I know. I was placed into a small motor boat and brought to shore where these men were waiting for us, signaling the men in the boat with flashlights. We only drove for what seemed to be an hour or less before arriving here so we couldn't have come too far. It was dark and I was on the floor in the back of the van so I don't know the route they took or anything."

Sean considered this information. He knew that Lake Seminole was part of the Apalachicola waterway, providing deep-water port access as far inland as Columbus, Georgia. The marshy coves and inlets north of Recovery, Georgia is where he had been setting his traps and would be a likely location for the transaction the woman and Tango Two had mentioned. 

"Were the orphan girls still on the ship when you were taken off?" he asked her.

"Yes, they were and they were very frightened to see me being taken from them."

"Do you happen to know the name of the ship you were on, or can you describe it?" Sean prodded.

"I think it was called the 'Costa Verde' because I saw that name painted on the life boats hanging from the side of the ship when the motor boat that had come out to meet us pulled away from the side of the ship as it brought me to land. I do know it flew a Portuguese flag."

"That's a good start," Sean said. "Now we need to decide on what to do with you. I assume that you don't want to wait here with these men until I can send someone back to pick them up?"

"That would not be my first choice," she admitted. "Can't you use the cell phone in the van to call for help?"

"There is no cellular service out here," he told her. "I have a land line at my cabin, but it's a mile walk through the woods and your footwear wouldn't handle that trip."

"Why can't we drive there in the van?"

"There are several reasons. First of all, my treatment of those men could be viewed as criminal by the local authorities, so the less my involvement is known, the better. Secondly, the van is stolen and is technically part of the crime scene here now. Plus, by the time we drove back up Glenn's drive to the road and then took it to the drive leading to my cabin we could already be most of the way there following the path through the woods."

She considered this, and then looked at the feet of each of her three captors. She then walked over to Tango Three and ignoring the stench in the room, pulled off one of his shoes and held the sole against the bottom of her foot. Appearing satisfied, she proceeded to pull off the other shoe, along with his socks from both feet. Sean simply watched her with interest. He sensed that spending time with her would be an adventure.

"Were there any socks in the chest where you found these items?" she asked, indicating the garments that Sean had found for her. She walked out the door and onto the front porch.

"There were some, but you have the socks from him," Sean said as he pointed to Tango Three.

"I'll use those to take up space inside the shoes because they're too big for me, but I would prefer that my skin didn't have to touch them."

Sean continued to admire her spirit as she seemed to be recovering from her ordeal. "Let me see what I can find for you." Holding his hair out of his face again as he looked down, he searched through the cedar chest until he found a pair of white crew socks, joined her on the porch and handed them to her.

"Thank you... What is your name by the way?"

Sean made sure that the Tangos were not able to hear their conversation before responding, "I guess that might help. My name is Sean Wallace, but my friends call me 'Recon'."

Sean didn't hear her gasp, but he did see her raise her eyebrows and smile as she sat on the front steps of the cabin and began to pull the crew socks onto her feet. "I can't tell you what a pleasure it is to meet you, Sean Wallace. My name is Amanda, but I also answer to 'Mandy' if I like the person using the name. By the way, I like you. I like you heaps, so call me anything you want."

"I think I'll start with Amanda and see how it rolls off my tongue for a while if that's okay with you," he said."

She finished with the socks and began preparing the shoes, "Try it. Let me hear how my name rolls off your tongue. I've never heard my name spoken with an American accent."

Sean appeased her and said, "Amanda is a beautiful name and I'm certain it sounds wonderful with any accent."

"Thank you," she said. "It sounds strange, but not unpleasant. I could get used to you using it."

"How do the shoes feel?" Sean asked as she finished tying them and stood.

"Good enough for now," she said. "I wouldn't want to have to run far in them, but they should be able to get me to your cabin without any blisters, turned ankles, or much tripping. So do you plan to just leave these men here for now?"

"Sure," Sean said as he pushed the door of the cabin closed and stuck the knife into the door jamb to hold it shut. He wiped his fingerprints from the handle and continued, "They're not going anywhere and the local Sheriff should be able to get people out to collect them before any of the wildlife around here become brave enough to enter the cabin. Are you ready?"

Amanda walked over and took his hand. "Ready Sean."



Heavy Traffic Ch. 02



When she took his hand, they both felt something different.

It was like a switch had been thrown with her touch. Sean suddenly felt like he had more blood in his body than he had had just a minute ago, and he could almost swear that he felt it warming as it rose up his arm, through his shoulder, and further into his body and soul. He didn't understand it, but he took notice of it and enjoyed brief thoughts of what it foretold.

Amanda felt strength in Sean's touch such as she had never experienced before. While she had held the hands of a few ranch workers and other men who had tough, strong, calloused hands; in Sean's she felt what she could only describe as the strength of a warrior rather than just a man. Feeling tender pressure from him against her skin, she knew that this hand held enough power to literally crush her own hand if he chose to. It felt like she was holding warm leather covered steel, but she knew she was safe - safer than she had ever been in her life as long as she held this hand.

After leaving Glenn Parker's cabin, Sean had led her to the tree where he had left his trapped Muskrats and then to the partially beaten path that led to his cabin. Sean noted that she had not reacted to the carcasses, and merely accepted them with indifference as if she had some familiarity with dead game. The sun had started rising so there was adequate light for their hike. 

They had only been walking about ten minutes when her need for conversation could no longer be denied. The path was too narrow for them to walk side by side, so she was slightly behind Sean as she maintained a hold on his hand and let him lead her through the low tree branches, bushes, and fallen logs littering the ground. 

"Where did you get the nickname 'Recon'?" Amanda asked.

"It's short for 'reconnaissance'," he told her as he continued to fuss with attempts to keep his hair out of his face. "I have always been good at tracking animals while hunting and sneaking up on them without being detected. That combined with my patience waiting for my target to be in the right position for a single-shot kill earned me the nickname. A lot of people think it's because I was part of the Marine Corp Force Recon, but I had the nickname years before joining the Corp."

Sean had spent six years in the Marines after college. After boot camp, he had gone directly into Officer Candidate School where one of his instructors learned about Sean's training in Hsing-I, one of the famed Chinese internal martial arts and got him involved in the Marine Corp Martial Arts Program. He rose quickly through the degrees of the Marine Corp program, introducing several new techniques that were adopted and integrated into the regiment, becoming one of only ten Instructor Trainer Qualified Black Belts even before graduating from OCS. After a tour in Afghanistan, Sean was assigned as an instructor in close-quarter combat for the Marine Corp's Embassy Security Group, traveling around the world evaluating and upgrading the capabilities of Marines assigned to protect American Embassies and diplomats in foreign lands.

"Were you raised near here in the wilderness?" she asked. The sun was starting to rise so that Amanda could now see more than dark shadows in the shapes of trees and shrubs.

Sean laughed. "No, I was raised in two different places. With my mom, we lived in a suburb of Atlanta called Johns Creek. It was a pretty basic middle-class neighborhood and upbringing. With my dad, I lived in a mansion on a two hundred year-old estate along the Cumberland River that has been in his family for generations. It's located outside of Nashville, Tennessee and my time there was all high-society and pampered materialism at its finest."

"So your parents were divorced?"

"Actually, no," he said. "My mom and dad had a kind of 'serial' relationship. They loved each other till their dying day, but their differing views on what constituted 'the good life' made it impossible for them to live together. While they couldn't seem to live together for long periods of time, my parents remained married and neither of them ever strayed outside their vows to each other. I think they actually spent more quality time together as a couple than most married people who live together and see each other every day of the week. We took all of our family vacations together, spent every holiday together, they both were equally active in raising me and as long as we weren't in either's 'home turf', you would never guess that they were not the perfect couple."

"Any brothers or sisters?" she asked.

"No, just me."

"You said 'till their dying day'. I'll understand if you don't want to talk about it, but did they both die?"

Sean nodded. "Yeah, about three years ago. I was in the Corp at the time. They were taking an around the world sailing vacation on a yacht with some friends. Their yacht was captured by pirates - actually near East Timor, and even though the ransom was paid, they were all executed."

"Oh Sean, how awful. Were the pirates ever brought to justice?"

Sean simply looked down at her and nodded. The look in his eyes as he confirmed that justice had been served left no doubt in her mind who had meted out the justice for his parents.

"You told my captors that you were no longer in the Marines. What do you do now?"

"Right now? Well until I stumbled upon you, I have been sort of hibernating," he told her. "For the last ten months or so I have been soul searching and building my resolve to face the responsibilities that await me."

"What sort of responsibilities do you face?"

"Running the family business," Sean said, and the tone of his voice told Amanda that this was not a subject that she should pursue right at that time.

"I understand," is all Amanda said.

Sean continued walking and looked over his shoulder at her. He was feeling an almost visceral connection to this woman. When she didn't question him further on his revelation, he realized that maybe she really did understand.

Although she felt that she knew the answer already, Amanda caressed his hand with her thumb and asked the question anyway, "Do you have anyone that you can share your responsibilities with, someone who you can trust, like other rellies or friends?"

"Rellies?

"Sorry," Amanda giggled. "Relatives."

Sean squeezed her hand in return but didn't otherwise reply to her question. Simultaneously, he thought to himself, "I might have just found someone."

She started to ask him another question, but he stopped her. "Amanda, surprising as it is to me, I don't mind discussing my life with you, but we need to do it some other time. Right now we should focus on you telling me as much as you can remember about the ship, its layout, the number of girls onboard, the number of captors, and any weapons that they may have."

"Of course, I'm sorry," she said. "I told you all I know about the possible name of the ship. It was an intermodal container carrier vessel with the deck covered in loaded carrier trailers. I don't know how large the crew is for the ship, or if they even knew about the girls and I being transported on the ship. Our only contact was with the six traders that originally took us from the bus. They had placed us into a container in, I assume Dili, which was then loaded onto the ship with a crane. The interior of the container had straw mats for us to lie on and two buckets for us to use as a dunnie, or toilet. There were twenty five girls with me, ranging in age from six to fifteen. Once a day, two of the traders would partially open the door to the container. The combination of traders varied from day to day, but I never saw more than six different faces. One would point a rifle at us while the other one came in and swapped out the buckets with clean ones. After that, they would bring us a big bowl of boiled rice and a gallon jug of water for us to share. Occasionally they would toss in some raw fish, and I tried to share the meager protein among the girls, but there wasn't always enough for each of them to have some."

"Only one of them had a rifle when they came to the container?" Sean asked.

"Yes," she confirmed, "and now that you mention it, even when they were commandeering our bus, only two of the traders that day had guns. The rest had machetes or knives only."

"Did you notice anything else about the container, such as any name or identifying markings on it that would allow us to find it amongst all the others on the ship?"

"It was dark when I was taken out and put into the motor boat, but I did notice that the container was sort of a rust orange or red color and we were pretty close to the back of the ship because they didn't have to walk me far on the deck before making me climb down a ladder hung over the side. Also, the containers are stacked three high and ours was on the bottom, sitting right on the deck."

"Great info Amanda," he said in praise, "This will all be helpful once we locate the ship. You said that you didn't know if the crew was even aware of you and the girls being on the ship. Why do you think that?"

She thought about his question before answering. "I got the impression that the traders were trying to keep us secret. For example, every time they opened the door to the container, the very first thing they told us was that if anyone made a sound, we would all be punished. This seemed strange for a ship in the middle of the ocean since no one could hear us except the crew. When we were passing through what I now assume was the Panama Canal, two of the traders stayed in the container with us to insure that no one made any noise. Then, when they were taking me from the container to the motor boat, they kept our path very close to the containers and they were very diligent in their efforts for us not to be seen by anyone else on the ship."

"So you never heard any discussions on where the ship was headed?"

"No, I'm sorry," she said.

Sean reviewed and tried to organize what they did know as they walked the last thousand yards to his cabin. The house sat in a clearing that left natural growth meadows extending from the structure more than 100 feet to the nearest trees. It was even more remote than Glenn Parker's, but unlike Glenn, Sean's cabin was approximately 2000 square feet of professionally constructed log cabin ranch house, had indoor plumbing, running water, a satellite dish on the roof and a diesel generator running in a shed set off from the cabin which provided him with all the electricity required for today's modern conveniences. There was a detached garage that appeared large enough for at least three full size vehicles. Solar panels were creatively integrated into the roof of all the structures. Although it had a rustic appearance, Amanda thought calling this house a cabin was akin to calling the Pacific Ocean a 'Sea'.

Sean unlocked the front door, disabled the alarm and held it open for Amanda to enter. Her first impression, based solely upon television shows she had seen, was that she had entered a typical suburban American home with a large screen television mounted above the fireplace, beautiful hardwood floors covered strategically with oriental rugs and a very modern and well equipped kitchen visible through a cutout across the living room. The space was clean and tidy; not at all what one would expect for the domicile of the outdoorsman that Sean appeared to be.

Amanda stopped to examine a large photo portrait on one wall that showed a handsome man in his forties, a beautiful young woman with blonde hair, and a teenage Sean between them. Sean's features were obviously shared from his parents, but he definitely had his mother's eyes and his father's smile.

"Are these your parents?" she asked.

"Yes, that picture was taken just after my sixteenth birthday."

"What were their names?"

"Edward Sean Wallace and Allison Elizabeth Askew-Wallace," said Sean. "They went by 'Eddie' and 'Allie'."

"Your mother appears much younger than your father. What was the age difference between them?"

Sean laughed and said, "I'm sure she would love to hear you say that. She was actually thirteen days older than my father."

"Wow!" is all Amanda said as she continued exploring the room while following Sean into the house. Amanda was particularly intrigued by the prominent role in the living room played by the largest stuffed Teddy Bear that she had ever seen. The large, black stuffed bear sat on what looked like a specially built milking stool and would be spotlighted by a recessed bulb in the ceiling had it been turned on. Positioned in a sitting pose on the stool, it was still taller than Amanda standing before it.

"Someone like Teddy Bears?" she asked.

Without expression on his face, Sean replied, "My Uncle Kirby gave that to me years ago as a sort of joke." He left his explanation there and proceeded into the kitchen area with Amanda following.

Sean's cabin had been built by his father as a private get-away for his grandparents, but his grandfather had died before they ever got a chance to use it. The two thousand square foot "cabin" was designed and built with the comfort of Sean's paternal grandmother in mind, knowing that she would not accept anything too rustic, regardless of how remote it might be. Sean believed that this was probably the only residence of any kind within a hundred miles that had a room designated for a maid, although it had never been used for that purpose. He didn't share any of this with Amanda.

Sean arrived in the kitchen and put the Muskrats into the freezer. "They'll hold there until I get a chance to deal with them further."

"What do you do with them?" Amanda asked as she followed him into the kitchen. The area was lit from above by a leaded-glass skylight that brought the early morning sunshine warmly into the room.

"I sell them to a dealer in Bainbridge who in turn sells them to the cooks on ships, mostly from Southeast Asian countries. Both the fur of the Muskrat as well as the meat are highly valued by the crews of these ships. Would you like something to eat or drink?"

"Do you have any eggs?" she asked. "I'm starving, but I probably shouldn't eat anything too solid or rich after the limited diet we have had for the past several weeks. Is that how you make your living, selling animals to the ships?"

"I think I have a couple of eggs left in the door of the refrigerator," he said. Ignoring her other question he asked, "Would scrambled eggs be okay?"

She noticed that he had avoided her question about how he made a living, but let it pass. If this was actually his cabin, he had some source of income and what it was didn't matter to her just then. "Scrambled eggs would be wonderful." she told him.

"I have been trying to use up most of my food because I had planned on heading to Atlanta today. I didn't want to leave too much here to spoil before I came back, so you would be doing me a favor by eating anything you find that suits your taste." Sean pulled a skillet off the overhead rack above the island stove, retrieved a bowl from a cupboard, and then the two last eggs from the refrigerator. Amanda took the eggs from his hand and assumed a position in front of the bowl where she proceeded to break the eggs into it. Sean handed her a whisk before turning the burner on beneath the skillet on the stove. Amanda took a dab of butter from the dish in the refrigerator and added it to the skillet.

Accepting that Amanda was comfortable preparing her own meal, Sean announced, "I'm going to take a quick shower if you're okay here for a minute."

"Go ahead," Amanda said. "Don't worry about me."

"Thanks. Make yourself at home." Sean walked out of the kitchen and down a hallway out of sight. Amanda watched him as he went, and could sense a loss of something undefined for her as each step took him farther away.

Amanda was sitting on a stool at the kitchen counter starting to eat her eggs when Sean returned from his shower. She had found some bread and also made herself some plain toast to have with her eggs. His hair was still damp, combed back, tucked behind his ears on each side and hanging well over his collar in back. He was clean shaven and had changed into a mint green polo shirt and clean blue jean pants. His hiking boots had been replaced by a pair of athletic shoes but his casual appearance did little to diminish the strength and security that Amanda felt in his presence. She also couldn't ignore how much this man had flamed her blood from the moment she had set eyes on him.

Sean pulled out a stool as he placed his land line phone onto the counter between them. He took a seat on a stool, hit the speaker phone button and the silence in the room was filled with a dial tone. Checking his memory against a slip of paper pinned to his bulletin board, Sean dialed a long distant number. Amanda continued to eat her eggs and examine the cabin as Sean initiated his call.

"Parker," was the response as his call was answered.

"Glenn, this is Sean. Sorry to call so early. Are you free to talk? Something has happened at your cabin that I need to bring you up to speed on fast."

"Hang on," Glenn said and they heard him briskly dismissing whoever he had been with when the call had been answered. "Okay Sean, fill me in."

"Glenn, we need to start with this conversation being privileged. I know you're semi-retired, but your firm still represents me." Sean, with an occasional uninvited contribution from Amanda, relayed the events of the morning to Glenn, up to the point where they had left three permanently paralyzed men sprawled across Glenn Parker's cabin floor.

Sean then threw a bigger surprise to Parker when he asked, "Glenn, who besides me did you tell that you would be out of town today? This is important because the Tangos said that they were specifically told that they could use your cabin since you wouldn't be there."

"Why do I think you may know the answer to your own question Sean? Other than you when you're around, Morgan Smith is the only other person I ever tell."

Sean nodded at the phone and then said, "What do you think the reaction from our illustrious County Sheriff will be when he receives a report that three men intended to produce a snuff film in the cabin that he was only one of three people who knew it would be unoccupied today?"

Without waiting for Glenn to answer, Sean continued, "You know that I have never seen eye to eye with Morgan, and if he thinks he can pin something on me for taking what I'm sure he'll define as vigilante action against those men, he is likely to try. I'm going to take a different route with this, so please keep things under your hat until you hear back from me."

"You're not going to have a lot of options open to you in Seminole County," Glenn said. "No other state authorities will get involved without Morgan requesting them to."

"Let me handle this Glenn," Sean said. "When are you due to return?"

"I'm not scheduled to return until Friday but now I'm thinking of cutting things short and heading back tomorrow."

"Hold off until you hear from me, okay? There's nothing here that requires your attention that urgently."

"Alright," Glenn said, "but please keep me posted."

"I will Glenn. Bye."

Sean disconnected the call and after making sure that Amanda had settled down across from him and wouldn't need him for anything, he dialed another number.

"Wallace."

"Uncle Kirby, this is Sean. Have you got a minute?"

"Sure Sean," his uncle said. "To what do I owe this pleasure?

"No pleasure so far. Let me tell you about my morning and get your advice..."

Kirby Wallace worked officially for Brandt Consulting, which provided cover as the company being a contractor for the Department of Homeland Security. In reality, Kirby Wallace was Deputy Director of Operations for DHS, responsible for pre-emptive strategies and tactics to thwart attacks against the United States.




Heavy Traffic Ch. 02



Once more Sean relayed the details of the events, only this time Amanda remained silent as she ate a slice of toast. When he was finished he then added the reason for his call to his uncle.

"Uncle Kirby, the Tangos said that they were told to use Glenn Parker's cabin because it was remote and it would be unoccupied today. Right before calling you I spoke with Glenn and verified that he only told two people of his planned business trip. I was one of them and Morgan Smith, Sheriff of Seminole County was the other. If I now report the events to Morgan, I'm afraid that he may take action against me to protect himself."

"Sounds like a potentially ugly situation," said Kirby. "You said that we're suspecting human trafficking and attempted murder by foreign nationals on US soil, so I assume you would like to see this classified as a national security issue rather than a local law enforcement issue?"

"That really depends on how fast things could get put into motion," Sean said. "We have twenty five young girls still on that ship somewhere in American waters but we don't know how much longer they will be there. I suspect that once the ship docks the containers will be placed onto tractor trailer trucks and once that happens, they'll be vapor in the wind to us. I'll also need some cover for what I did to the film crew at Glenn's cabin."

"Understood," said Kirby. "Let me make a couple of calls real quick and see if I can get us some sort of idea on reaction times. Be back to you in ten." Kirby hung up without giving Sean a chance to respond.

Turning to Amanda he saw her patiently examining her surroundings. He said, "I would like for you to go through my place and see if there is anything here that you would like to wear or use to make you more comfortable until we can stop and buy you things that actually fit you. For example, I know that I have a new toothbrush in the bathroom that has never been opened. Anything you want or need is yours for the taking."

"I'll take you up on the toothbrush right now, but no promises on anything else. These shoes were my biggest concern and they seem to be doing the job so far."

She got up from the stool and went wandering through his cabin. Amanda realized almost immediately that she was touring a house that wasn't really a home. Other than the portrait of Sean and his parents and the large stuffed bear, there were few signs that this house belonged to anyone in particular. It reminded Amanda of a time-share or vacation rental that catered to transient tenants who stayed there only for short periods of time.

While he cleaned up her breakfast dishes, Sean was glad to see that she took him at his word and wasn't hesitating to open every drawer or cupboard she came to for an investigation of its contents. He couldn't know that she conducted her search more to learn about him than to find things for herself, but he was pleased none the less.

After a few minutes she stuck her head out of the bedroom and said, "I'm going to be in the shower for a few minutes in case you're looking for me."

Sean nodded and waved. He was glad that her ordeal from earlier in the day hadn't lingered to their time together. He had tried to be as non-threatening as possible and instill some level of confidence in her towards him. He had to admit that he found her resiliency mesmerizing and he admired her ability to notice and relay details that most other people would miss. Then there was the way that her holding his hand had affected him and how she had effortlessly gotten him sharing his own life story before he even realized he was doing it. Her interest in him was luminous, and he found himself basking in it like warm sunshine. He liked the way he felt when he was with her, which for someone who had led a very solitary life for almost a year said the most about her as far as he was concerned. 

Amanda had relieved herself before getting into the shower, still grinning over her observation that the toilet seat was in the down position. She thought that this bespoke of good habits from this warrior-man as she was beginning to think of him. She made quick work of washing her hair and body, using the razor in the shower to shave herself knowing instinctively that Sean wouldn't mind. She would warn him though so he wouldn't be surprised by a dull blade the next time he went to use it.

Sean was still thinking of Amanda when the phone rang. He answered the phone before the first ring had ended.

"Wallace," he said.

"Wallace here too. I've got some good news and some bad. Surveillance drones out of Eglin Air Force base have returned imagery that found the ship docked at the container terminal in Bainbridge, Georgia as of three hours ago. Several containers have already been removed and placed on trailer trucks, including most of the units at the stern of the ship."

"How can they be unloading so fast?" asked Sean. "Don't the containers have to pass a Customs inspection or anything?"

"Unless they were tagged and sealed as "Customs Exempt" for some reason, then you're correct," said Kirby. "DHS and FBI agents are on choppers headed to Bainbridge now to investigate, but they won't be on the ground for another hour."

"Can we track the trucks that have those containers?" asked Sean.

"As far as I know, all we have on the suspect container is an approximate color, described as rust orange or reddish," said Kirby. "We have reviewed drone images since the ship docked and are targeting containers that are anywhere close to the colors mentioned. Three have been identified. One of these is currently headed west on interstate 10 and will be quarantined at the first truck scales in Alabama and inspected by the FBI who are in route. The other two are currently on US 84 eastbound headed toward interstate 75 where the two highways meet in Valdosta. We will maintain real-time drone surveillance on both until their projected destinations can be ascertained. I have to tell you Sean, we are short of ground assets for anything short-term. We can get a squad of Rangers deployed out of Fort Benning within thirty minutes but we need to have a mission for them first."

"Why not get them airborne onto each of the containers right now?" asked Sean.

"Because until we identify which truck is involved in the national security issue we have declared for this matter, we can't use United States military forces. If the Rangers assault a truck on American soil and find it full of big screen TV's, then the President will have a tough time justifying his finding with Congress and we could lose more than we gain."

Kirby was referring to the current Presidential Finding which stated that organized crime activity conducted by foreign nationals either within the borders of the United States or targeting the citizens of the United States met the definition of domestic terrorism and would be considered national security events.

"I see your point," said Sean. "So we just wait until we figure out where the two trucks are headed?

"That, plus we keep them monitored," Kirby said. "If one pulls into a rest stop or other location and we see a bunch of people pouring out of the container, we can have forces on the sight quickly. Ideally, we would be able to track them all the way to their destination and then take down more than just the grunts involved, if you know what I mean."

"Let's think of this operation strategically," said Sean. "If you had twenty five young girls that you were looking to now distribute, where in the Southeast would you be headed? Remember, we should assume because they were all brought to the United States that the customers were all here as well."

Kirby saw the logic. "Using interstate 75 as a corridor can also play into the analysis. Only Atlanta, and to some degree Orlando provide the logistics favorable to distributing this number or girls over a short period of time."

"I agree," said Sean. "Keep monitoring both trucks, but I'm going to start heading towards Atlanta as I had originally planned for today. There are several construction zones on interstate 75 which will slow down any traffic between Valdosta and Macon. I can beat them by heading north on US 27 through Columbus onto interstate 185 and then interstate 85. You have my cell phone number?"

"Let me have it again," said Kirby, but as he was taking it down he interrupted Sean. "I just received some interesting info. It seems that one of the two trucks has been followed by a blue van since leaving the container terminal. It has had multiple opportunities to pass, but it remains directly behind the truck."

"That's our Tango!" said Sean. "The van has the traders that Amanda mentioned. They're not releasing their cargo until they receive payment so they're following them."

"I think you're right," agreed Kirby. "We'll designate that as the primary target."

"How far from interstate 75 is the primary target truck?" ask Sean?

"Looks to be at least one hour from interstate 75," replied Kirby.

"Okay," said Sean. "In an hour I will still be able to swing east and then south if our guess about Atlanta is wrong, but I'm ninety five percent certain of their destination."

"I agree," said Kirby. "Start towards Atlanta and I'll monitor things on this end and keep you posted. I'm also going to see who we may have currently at the Federal Law Enforcement Training Center near Brunswick that we may be able to use on this. Let me know your planned route as soon as you have it."

"Will do. Thanks Uncle Kirby."

"Semper Fi Marine.

"Semper Fi," said Sean, but the call had been ended.

"What does 'Semper Fi' mean?" asked Amanda. Sean hadn't noticed her standing on the other side of the counter and wondered how long she had been there. Her natural beauty was radiant, and once again startled him. She was a little thin due to her captivity, and she obviously didn't have a gym-trained body, but her overall physique was toned and screamed of exposure to nature. Her flawless skin and sun-kissed complexion were more tantalizing to him than any woman he had met in all his worldly travels.

"It's short for 'Semper Fidelis' which is Latin for 'Always Faithful'. It is the motto of the United States Marine Corp. My Uncle Kirby was also a Marine. In fact, he was my inspiration for joining."

"Oh, Okay."

She stood with damp hair, but in the same clothes that she had on before she had taken her shower. Her raw, wholesome beauty was even more obvious to Sean as she stood there smiling at him. Her wet hair and natural appearance suddenly reminded him of what he found familiar about her. He thought back to one point in his youth when his parents had taken him to New York with them on a business trip. Among the items on their agenda was a meeting with the PR firm they had selected for a new ad campaign. Sean remembered his mother going through stacks of photos for the models they were considering and how taken she had been with one in particular. The model was not able to find time in her busy schedule to work on the campaign, but Sean remembered her name to this day - Elle MacPherson. Amanda stood before him now and Sean knew his mother would have been just as taken with her as she had been with Elle. She held a clean dry towel and a pair of scissors.

"Feel better?" Sean asked.

"Heaps better," she said. "Being able to wash the touch of those animals off me was wonderful. I hope you don't mind, but I used your razor. Thank you again."

"No problem at all. I'm glad I was there to help. Now, we need to get ready to go. The ship has already docked and the container with the girls is likely on a truck headed for Atlanta. If we leave now, we can arrive at the same time, or maybe even beat it there. We have a drone monitoring it so we'll know if they stop and begin to let people off, but our guess is that they want to get the entire cargo to Atlanta for distribution. Let me make a few more phone calls because once we leave here, it will be at least an hour before we get into decent cellular coverage." First he called Glenn Parker back.

While the phone was ringing, Amanda came up behind Sean and placed the towel over his shoulders. He looked back at her questioningly. She simply held up the scissors for him to see and then smiled at him as she took several locks of his hair between two of her fingers and began to cut. This act felt somehow natural to Sean, so he turned back to the phone and let her continue without objection.

"Hi Glenn," Sean said when the phone was answered. "You're going to have to deal with the situation at your cabin on your own for right now. The FBI is probably going to want to get a statement from you about who you informed about your trip. I need you to leave me out of this as much as possible. As one of my lawyers, I assume you can manage that alright?"

"Not a problem. How did you get the FBI involved so quickly?" asked Glenn. "They generally wait for a request from local authorities before getting involved in something like this."

"The situation is being handled now as a matter of national security which takes it out of the hands of all local and state authorities. I wouldn't advise that you mention that fact yet or some of the rats will flee the ship before assets get in place to catch them. This goes deeper than just a rural county Sheriff. Several others have to be involved in order for them to think that they could bring a container full of young girls into the United States without fear of discovery."

"I wish I could get a flight out today, but I've already checked and the best I can do is a flight into Tallahassee through Atlanta late tomorrow morning," Glenn said.

"How fast could you get to Dulles?" asked Sean as he continued to feel foreign sensations every time Amanda touched his face, neck or head while she tenderly combed and cut his hair. "I'm about thirty minutes from there right now," Glenn replied.

"Don't go to the main terminal, but have someone direct you to the World Wings FBO building. I'll make arrangements for a private jet to fly you back today."

"Where will they fly me to?" asked Glenn. "Can they fly me to Decatur County Airport in Bainbridge?"

"That would be ideal," said Sean, "and I don't see why they couldn't. I could also see about having you met there by the FBI who could drive you to your cabin and get your statement along the way. Let me see what I can work out and get back to you." 

Sean hung up and checked the time. He smiled up at Amanda in appreciation as he called his father's former secretary Maureen McKenna.

"Mr. Wallace's office," said a professional female voice.

"Hi Moe, it's Sean. Why did I know you would be in this early?"

"Sean! It's wonderful to hear your voice. Is everything okay?"

"I'm fine Moe, but I don't have a lot of time to chat right now and I need you to handle a few things for me with the highest priority. Can you do that?"

Without hesitation Maureen said, "I'm always at your service Sean. What do you need?" Sean explained the flight arrangements that he wanted made for Glenn Parker, as soon as he was finished giving her the details, he sensed something in her silence.

"Is there a problem Moe?" he asked.

"I don't think there will be a problem, but Mr. Folsom is out of the office today and if I don't track him down to get the approval..." she began.

"Moe, Tom Folsom doesn't have to approve any directions I give to you. You work for me, personally. Tom Folsom works for me, and then only in a limited capacity. If I need to remind him of that, I'll be more than happy to do so."

"I'll make the arrangements Sean, but you already know a few things have changed since you have been out. You may want to go ahead and remind Mr. Folsom before he completes his purge of anyone loyal to you. That's all I'm going to say on the matter right now."

"Give me Tom's cell number," Sean said.

She read him the number, "I'll call you back as soon as the arrangements are made."

"No, you won't be able to reach me on my cell for at least an hour so just call Glenn Parker at the number I gave you so he knows that he's good to go."

"Okay Sean," said Maureen. "Will we be seeing you anytime soon?"

"It sounds like that may be a real possibility," Sean told her as he hung up. He immediately called Tom Folsom's cell phone and left a message requesting a return call.

Amanda had been quietly listening to Sean on the phone as she finished cutting his hair and removed the towel from his shoulders. Her mother had always cut her father's and brother's hair, but she taught Amanda how to do it so that she could help out with the ranch hands. Her experience cutting the hair of dozens of men had never provided Amanda the satisfaction she was feeling with this intimate task for a man she had met less than two hours previous. Amanda became aware of how important it was to her for this haircut to please Sean.

She could tell that his last conversation bothered him, but she didn't want to interrupt him to ask any questions. She found a broom and began cleaning his cut hair from the floor around the base of his stool.

Sean called his uncle back. "Uncle Kirby, I have made arrangements for Glenn Parker, the owner of the cabin where the three Tangos are waiting, to fly back into Decatur County airport today. It might be a good idea to have the FBI meet him when he arrives to get his statement about what he told Morgan Smith. Can you arrange that?"

"Do you have his flight details?" asked Kirby.

"Not yet, but if you still have my dad's office number, you can call that. His former assistant, now mine is named Maureen McKenna. She is making the arrangements right now and will have all the details you need shortly."

"I remember Moe and I've got the number. I'll give it half an hour before I call," said Kirby.

"Thanks," said Sean. "We're going to be leaving here in the next few minutes and I will be out of pocket until we hit cell coverage about an hour from now. I've decided that we'll be headed towards Georgia highway 300 which will take us through Albany before meeting up with interstate 75. I'll call you as soon as we have a signal so we can get an update."

"Talk to you then," said Kirby as he ended the call.

Sean stood, walked into the kitchen and looked at his reflection in the microwave. He ran his fingers through his hair as he turned to Amanda. "Wow. This is the best cut I have ever had. I like the length and the style a lot. How did you know?"

Amanda finished dumping the clippings into a trash can before answering. She could barely contain the elation she felt. "I have spent enough time around a ranch and in remote areas to recognize when a man's hair is long due to neglect rather than design. Your hair was obviously bothering you, so I wanted to take care of it for you. I hope I wasn't too presumptuous in my actions."

"You won't hear anything but appreciation from me. I was seriously contemplating how to cut it myself, but that would have entailed just shaving my head. I like your style much more, so thanks again. It's perfect."

Amanda glowed at Sean's appreciative praise. "The pleasure was all mine. I am at your service whenever you need a touch-up. In fact, if circumstances later permit, your neck could use a little more attention to tidy things up some." An image of standing naked in a shower as she shaved his neck flashed across her consciousness and Amanda hoped the blush she felt wasn't too visible.

Sean simply nodded as he walked across the room and collected a packed duffle bag from a closet by the front door. "You pack fast," said Amanda.

"I had already packed before heading out to check my traps. My original plans for today were for me to drive to Atlanta and then head to Tennessee tomorrow morning. My hibernation had to end sometime and you happened to catch me as I am exiting my cave, so to speak."




Heavy Traffic Ch. 02



"I'm honored to witness your awakening," said Amanda.

Sean sensed that she was going to be a bigger part of his awakening than merely being a witness to it. He set an intrusion sensor and locked the front door of his cabin. He then led Amanda out the backdoor and locked it. Continuing to the garage, he opened the door revealing a shiny silver Volvo XC-90 SUV. Pushing a button on the remote, he unlocked the doors and opened the passenger door for Amanda. She climbed in as Sean went to the driver's side.

As he settled behind the wheel she said, "You'll have to forgive me if I seem to be reaching for the steering wheel from time to time. Where I come from it is usually on this side of the car."

Sean laughed and said, "You'll probably be too focused on trying to find the brake pedal to worry about steering. I'm a pretty aggressive driver."

"Hit me with your best shot," she said as she buckled her seat belt and tied her hair into a ponytail. "What about your generator? Do you leave it running all the time?" she asked.

"It starts up only when the batteries that power most of the house need charging. With the solar power system and plenty of sunny days, there is enough fuel stored for it to run at least another two weeks. If I'm not back to close things up for the summer then I'll make arrangements for a diesel delivery far enough in advance to keep it running until I do return."

Amanda sat in silence as they drove, but her mind never drifted from thoughts of the man beside her. He was obviously more than a warrior, with apparent resources and skills that belied his attempts to seem more primitive and simple than he really was. His military training could explain his physique and the tidiness of his home, but not his gentleness. He definitely wasn't lacking for money, if his house and car were any indication, but he didn't offer any suggestion that he wanted to discuss his true occupation so she didn't pursue it.

They were just entering Bainbridge when Sean asked Amanda. "Do you know what a Wal-Mart is?"

"I'm familiar with them," she said, "but I've never shopped at one.

"Do you have a clear enough idea of what you would want to purchase that if I stopped at a Wal-Mart you could run through the store and make your selections without a lot of decisions?"

"As long as the store has signs indicating where specific items were located I could get everything pretty quick. I don't need much really; just daks and a pair of shoes that fit would cover me for days."

"What are 'daks'?"

"I'm sorry," Amanda said with a laugh. She had a soft laugh that resembled a purr. Sean knew at once that she had no idea just how sexy it was.

"Daks are slang for pants in Australia. I'll try to be more considerate in my language."

"Please don't. I would love to learn more slang from Australia if you don't mind explaining it to me when you use it. Anyway, I don't want to rush you that much," Sean said. "Maybe you could select the daks and shoes while I picked up shampoo or other toiletry items you might want."

"I can be a girly girl when circumstances call for it Sean, but it's not who I am. I was raised on a sheep and cattle ranch and have dedicated my life to helping orphans in remote under-developed countries. Shampoo is not important to me unless it matters to you."

"I just want you to be as comfortable as circumstances permit. There's no reason to play the martyr and forsake either hygiene or comfort unnecessarily."

"You are absolutely and uncategorically the sweetest thing I have ever seen. I'll tell you what, I'll go get shoes and pants and you can go find me some decadent chocolate to eat. It's too early for a beer, but you can buy me one of those later. How's that?"

"A girl who likes beer and chocolate but doesn't want to shop till she drops. I'll be beating guys off you for the rest of my life," he teased.

"American boys are so easy," she said in mock exasperation.

True to her word, when Sean stopped at the Wal-Mart in Bainbridge, Amanda had selected shoes, socks, three T-shirts and two pairs of jeans before he had decided on which chocolate to buy her. She teased him about this until they returned to his car. Amanda also noticed that almost every woman in the store stole a glance at Sean, and once she had joined him at the checkout lanes, the visible envy of her being with this man was obvious. Once back inside his car she immediately went about changing out of the sweat pants into a pair of the new jeans without any consideration for Sean seeing her in her underwear. The sweat pants, Glenn Parker's socks, T-shirt and Tango Three's shoes were tossed into the far back section of the Volvo SUV. Amanda then relaxed in her seat as Sean drove them north towards Atlanta.

After a few miles she said, "Thanks for the clothes. I'll pay you back as soon as I can get my status here straightened out."

"Don't give it a second thought," Sean told her. "I am glad to treat you to your first American clothes."

After a few miles she said, "Sean, since we're going to be driving for a while, do you want to talk about your recent hibernation?"

Sean was surprised. Yes, he was surprised that Amanda had remembered his earlier comments and decided to explore them, but he was more surprised by his not being adverse to the idea of sharing his history with someone else. Maybe it was just the right time, but he suspected it was more that Amanda was the right person to share this with.

"The impetus for it was a betrayal by my former fiancée, named Kimberly DuPont. We met while I was attending Vanderbilt University for my MBA. I had completed my undergraduate degree prior to joining the Corp and felt that I owed it to my father's legacy to take my education to the next level. We met at a fitness promotion event on campus though I was there only because it was on my normal cycle training route. She was handing out water bottles promoting some local gym and I was thirsty so I took one and we started to talk. A few days later we ran into each other on campus and she suggested we meet later for drinks. Now that I think back it, our chance encounters seemed awfully coincidental. Anyway after dating for about nine months I proposed and she accepted."

"Why?" Amanda asked.

"Good question," said Sean. "I guess I felt it was the logical thing to do. Kimberly and I always seemed to have a good time together. I missed her when we were apart, and I could envision spending the rest of my life with her. I recognize now that I had become comfortable with her more than actually loving her."

"So what happened?"

"From the beginning Kimberly had this strange rule that she wanted to have friends who were male, and according to her, no threat to her and I, but she always wanted to keep them secret from me. She felt that she needed to have someone who she could get an unbiased male perspective from in order to better understand how she could please me. I wasn't so insecure that the idea of her having male friends threatened me, but I always had issues with her insistence that they be kept secret. I broke off our engagement when she was hanging out two or three nights each week with her friend Mark, but still refused to introduce him to me. A couple of weeks later she came to me claiming that she had ended her friendship with Mark because I couldn't handle it. I wasn't mollified, but after a month or so of her not seeing her male friends, the engagement was back on. Within a month of us setting a date for the wedding, she said that her brother Jim was coming to town and she wanted to spend some time with him. I said that was great and that I looked forward to meeting him, but she could never find a convenient time for the three of us to get together. Her and her brother would meet for lunch, dinner, and drinks, but never at a time where I might be able to join them."

"Suspicious," said Amanda.

"You think?" said Sean. "So the next time that my schedule conflicted with a dinner that she had planned with her brother I decide to surprise them. I arrived at the restaurant about five minutes after her and waited for her to greet her brother in the foyer of the restaurant. Let's just say that they were a very passionate family. It was almost as if they were flouting their relationship for everyone to see. Once they were seated I asked for a table across the partition from them so I could hear them but they couldn't see me. Well, it should go without saying that her brother Jim was actually her friend Mark. In addition, Kimberly had apparently learned from someone who my father was and this is what prompted her to conveniently bump into me so often when we first met. She sat at that table with Mark discussing the five year timeline she had for her marriage to me before she would be entitled to half of my assets and after she divorced me they could then live happily ever after. I walked around to their table, asked her for my ring back and when Mark tried to be chivalrous, I laid him out with a squeeze to his Brachial plexus. I then forcibly removed the engagement ring from Kimberly's finger and walked out never to see her again."

"I know what the Brachial plexus is. Do you have medical training too?"

Sean chuckled and said, "I have very limited medical training, focused upon first aid and battlefield first response. My knowledge of anatomy comes from training in close quarter combat and identifying lethal and non-lethal pressure points and other targets on the human body."

"L'amour sans confiance n'est rien."

"You're absolutely right," agreed Sean. "Love without trust is nothing. I realized that what I had with Kimberly all along really couldn't have been love because I never trusted her, so I can't really complain of a broken heart where she is concerned. I was more disappointed than anything about admitting to myself that I had been prepared to 'settle' for Kimberly at the cost of my dreams."

Amanda reflected on her own past relationships, or lack thereof. She had been raised in one of the most remote sections of Australia, home schooled until college, and had very limited exposure to boys her own age for most of her adolescent life. She didn't have any dates until she was away from home at college, didn't kiss a boy until she was 19 years old and there had only been two other opportunities since that first time. She knew that her self-imposed lack of relationships had been influenced by what her parents had demonstrated to her as the perfect life between a man and a woman and the subsequent expectations that she had developed for any man to garner her attention. Sean Wallace had her attention now.

Restraining her desire to know what Sean's 'dreams' were and who Sean's father was as it influenced this Kimberly woman's intentions relative to their marriage, Amanda asked, "So is that when you began your hibernation? After breaking up with Kimberly?"

"Shortly thereafter," Sean confirmed. "I had business responsibilities that I couldn't just walk away from so I had to appoint some people to act on my behalf and to make critical decisions in my absence. I've been monitoring things from afar and focusing on some other business concerns. Now I need to get back to work and take the reigns myself once more. Enough about me, I want to hear about you for a change."

Amanda studied him for a minute and then said, "There's not much to tell."

"I believe differently, and you know differently," Sean said. "Fair is fair Amanda, plus I am genuinely interested in getting to know more about the mystery woman who has so adeptly penetrated my shell. I know that self-deprecation is a British trait, but I never realized it had spanned the Queen's domain to include Australia," teased Sean.

"I don't know what in my life would interest you," she said.

Sean recognized a trait that he had himself in her reluctant demeanor. He really did want to get to know more about her, but he didn't want to make her uncomfortable in sharing what she felt important while maintaining some degree of privacy where she felt it necessary.

"Why don't you just start with a chronological summary of your life so far and I'll ask questions along the way?"

"Should I lay down doctor as I recount my childhood?"

Sean chuckled, but waited for her to continue.

"I was born Amanda Jean Wallace on March 18, 1989," she began.

"What?" Sean interrupted, glad that there were no other vehicles in the lanes next to his as his reaction caused him to stray into other lanes as he kept stealing glances at Amanda. "You didn't mention that your last name was the same as mine." 

Amanda couldn't restrain a laugh. "I thought it might freak you out, even though Wallace isn't that uncommon a name in the English speaking world. I doubt that we are related, but it might be fun to compare family trees sometime. My father is reported to be descended from William Wallace himself." Leaning over and squeezing his hand she said, "I'm certain we're at least kissing cousins." 

"I think it's great," said Sean with a grin. "It will make checking into a motel with you seem less seedy. Now continue with your life story."

"Okay, so I was born the first daughter of Leonard and Olivia Wallace. I had a brother Michael who was four years older than me but no other siblings. We lived on a seven thousand acre ranch that was a combination of properties from both my parents' families. They had grown up on adjoining ranches in the Northern Territory, about 80 kilometers east of the city of Katherine. When they got married, the two ranches were combined into one. My brother and I worked on the ranch when we weren't in school and when my parents were killed in a plane crash five years ago, he and I took over total management of the family business operations. I say that he and I took over but it was mostly just him. I was in nursing school and could handle financial and other transactions remotely by computer or on the phone, but he had to remain at the ranch overseeing actual operations of it and our other holdings."

"Sorry to hear about your parents," Sean said.

"Thank you Sean," she said. "Unfortunately, my brother died eighteen months after my parents did. He had an undiagnosed heart defect that surfaced suddenly and with the ranch being so remote, there wasn't any opportunity for the right medical treatment to get there in time to save him. With both my parents and my brother gone, I had no reason to return to the ranch, so I rolled it into a holding company with our family's other enterprises and have trustees managing it all for the time being. Since I was suddenly an orphan myself, I decided to devote my nursing skills to helping others in the same situation, only younger. That pretty well brings you up-to-date on my life."

"Do you plan on returning to the orphanage after this is over?" Sean asked.

"I haven't thought that far ahead," she said. "My motivation for going there was largely my sense of loss, and I've gotten over most of that. I am financially secure enough to explore other options for my life. I just don't know what those might be at this time."

"Sounds like you may be about to awaken from your own hibernation," he said.

"Well," she teased, "You do make it sound so exciting; maybe I'll follow your lead and give it a try."



Heavy Traffic Ch. 03



Just prior to reaching Camilla, Georgia where they switched from Highway 97 to Highway 300, Sean received a second signal bar on the display of his cell phone and determined that he would be able to maintain a connection that justified pairing the phone with his hands-free Bluetooth feature in his car.

Amanda watched as Sean paired his phone and silently demonstrated her appreciation by making a zippered motion across her lips, followed by a smile. Sean saw her motion and grinned as he nodded in response while he spoke his first voice command, "Call Karen."

The speakers in his car were quickly filled with the sound of a ringing phone, followed almost immediately by the sound of a woman's voice, "Sean?"

"Good morning sleepy head. How is the morning sickness this morning?"

Amanda's interest in the conversation was suddenly piqued, but she tried to hide it by focusing her attention on the scenery passing by.

"It's not too bad this morning. Are we still on for lunch?" asked Karen.

"That's why I'm calling," said Sean. "Something's come up and I'll need to cancel, but on a positive note, you'll be able to head home earlier than planned. Would you need any help getting an earlier flight?"

"No thanks. I'll wait to see how I feel in a little while before deciding. When can we talk again? There's still a lot that we need to cover together before things move too far."

"I'm going to have to place my focus elsewhere for at least a week, Karen. You also need to ease your husband's concerns by spending some quality time with him for a change."

"Oh I'll be sure to distract him when I get home, don't worry. I could use the distraction myself."

"Okay Karen. Safe travels. Shoot me a text or e-mail to let me know you made it home alright."

"I will Sean. I'll miss you. Bye."

"Me too Karen. Bye."

Sean ended the call, but before dialing his next number he glanced over and saw a look of suspicion on Amanda's face. "Sorry, that was Karen Mason. I was supposed to meet with her today to go over some business matters, but I think our mission right now is more important."

"Is she pregnant?" asked Amanda.

Sean nodded, "Yeah, with her first. Her and her husband live in Southern California and she had flown out here last week for our business, so I'm glad that she now has the opportunity to get back home sooner."

"I'm sure she'll be more comfortable at home," Amanda said, but her expression was still etched with suspicion.

"Her and Kyle both, I'm sure," agreed Sean. "They both lead very busy lives, but this is the first time that they have been apart since they got married and with her telling him she was pregnant right before this trip has made them both a bit tense about their separation."

"So you know her husband?" asked Amanda.

"Kyle? Sure, that's how I met Karen, through my friendship with Kyle."

"I see," said Amanda with an obvious lightening of her mood.

Noticing that Amanda seemed placated for the moment, Sean made another call.

"Call Kirby."

Once more the speakers in his car came to life with ringing followed by the voice of his uncle, "Sean?"

"Yes sir. We're almost to Camilla so we should be in good cell range from now until Atlanta."

"Good," Kirby said. "You still plan on taking Highway 300 north from there?"

"That's the plan," confirmed Sean.

While Sean and his uncle were speaking, Amanda listened to their conversation while considering her reactions to the previous call between Sean and Karen Mason. Her initial surge of jealousy surprised her, but not as much as the elation that she now felt knowing that they were just friends. She liked the last feeling much better where Sean Wallace was concerned.

"Do you know where the Marine Corp Logistics Base is in Albany?" Kirby asked.

"It shouldn't be too hard to find," said Sean. "Do we need to stop there?"

"Just at the front gate. A special agent from Immigration and Custom Enforcement is choppering there right now from FLETC where a briefing on Homeland Security's Blue Campaign is being held."

"Blue Campaign?" asked Amanda. Sean glanced at her and she just shrugged and grinned.

"Who was that?" asked Kirby.

"Sorry," said Sean. "I forgot that you two hadn't been introduced yet. Amanda Wallace, say hello to my Uncle Kirby. Uncle Kirby, say hello to Amanda Wallace. Amanda is the young lady I met earlier today that brought all of this to our attention."

"Wallace?" asked Kirby.

Amanda laughed and said, "From a very distant branch of the family tree, I'm sure Uncle Kirby. I'm pleased to meet you, or your voice at least."

"Family needs to stick together," said Kirby. "To answer your question Amanda, Homeland Security's Blue Campaign is a comprehensive education program that teaches law enforcement officers how to recognize human trafficking encountered during routine duties, how to protect victims, and how to initiate human trafficking investigations. We are fortunate that some of the nation's experts are in the area right now and moving to help us find these girls."

"We're about ninety minutes from Albany," said Sean.

"That should be perfect," said Kirby. "Special Agent Mickey Anderson will be waiting for you at the main gate. You and Amanda need to provide as much information as possible that will allow I.C.E. to move their investigation forward to determine where the security breakdowns occurred and get to those responsible on all sides of the distribution chain."

"We'll do what we can. Do you have any update on the FBI being able to meet Glenn when he arrives in Bainbridge or what is going on at his cabin?" asked Sean.

"One of my colleagues has taken charge of the prisoners at the cabin. He hasn't arrived himself yet, but National Park police from Apalachicola National Forest headquarters near Tallahassee are on site at Mr. Parker's cabin, had the prisoners transported to Naval Air Station Pensacola via Coast Guard helicopter and have the site secured awaiting the arrival of the FBI and Mr. Parker. No local authorities have been brought in or are aware of the situation as far as we know right now. Your involvement is 'need-to-know' right now, but I've got your back." Kirby continued, "How long do you think we have before the locals get curious or decide to check out the situation on their own? I mean, if your suspicions about the local Sheriff being involved are correct, won't he eventually go to the cabin to check the scene in preparation for what Mr. Parker would be expected to find when he returns?"

Sean considered this for a minute and then responded, "Based upon what the Tangos implied that they were going to film, I would assume that they felt confident that they would not be interrupted today. My guess is that no one will venture out to check things until tomorrow at the earliest, but a single sentry with a view of the turn-off from Highway 97 would be able to see anyone coming at least 10 miles away. There is no other way for a vehicle to get to the cabin."

"We don't know enough about their operation to assume anything right now," said Kirby.

"You're right," agreed Sean, "but from what the Tangos confessed, everything points to their deal to purchase Amanda being totally separate from the smuggling operation involving the other girls, so the communication protocols of one wouldn't likely apply to the other. On the other hand, it is very likely that their contacts here are involved in both, or at least have significant knowledge of the smuggling operation even if they do not have direct involvement in it. If the ship off-loaded in Bainbridge that is out of Morgan Smith's jurisdiction so how did he get involved in this?"

"Those are among the points you need to discuss with Special Agent Anderson," said Kirby. "I.C.E. will be taking point on the human trafficking investigation from here on. The FBI and all other agencies will be at their disposal and be prepared to respond in rescuing the girls, but we obviously have some serious players involved that need to be identified and brought to justice."

"Is Special Agent Anderson stationed at the Federal Law Enforcement Training Center? I met a Michelle Anderson a few years back while I was there helping them analyze which close quarter combat techniques that they wanted to standardize on." Sean mentioned the full name of the facility because he could see that Amanda was confused about the acronym 'FLETC' which Kirby had used earlier. "I believe she was with I.C.E., but we only chatted briefly over dinner one night so I might be mistaken."

Sean remembered Michelle Anderson also being very frank and obvious in her desire for them to hook up, even if just for a one-night stand. She was a very attractive woman whose body held promise of enormous sexual pleasure, but Sean had declined all of her advances at the time. Glancing over at Amanda, he knew instinctively that he would do the same with Michelle if the propositions were repeated today. Michelle Anderson was unquestionably attractive, but glancing at the woman beside him, Sean saw that next to Amanda Wallace, she would look like she had been soaked in bleach too long.

"I wouldn't know," said Kirby. "I guess you'll find out once you get to Albany. I just received an e-mail message that mentions a weather front moving into Georgia from the west. There is concern that clouds may obscure our drone imagery on the trucks within the next few hours."

"If the target truck takes 75 north, there is a Department of Transportation weigh station near Forsyth that they will need to stop at," mentioned Sean. "Can we get anything in place to quarantine and inspect the truck at that point?"

Kirby was quick to respond, "I already checked into that. The scales at that station are down for service so it is closed. When the target truck received a green bypass signal from the PrePass transponder as it approached the weigh station near Valdosta, it raised another flag relative to who might have entered information on this truck into the database that the system uses to establish a particular truck's qualifications to bypass the station. It is one of several strands to this spider web we have to navigate to uncover the depth of the conspiracy."

"What are our options for tracking the truck if we lose drone imagery?" asked Sean.

"We have already begun positioning local law enforcement vehicles onto overpasses and in the center median where necessary," reported Kirby. "We are fortunate that interstate 75 through Georgia is notorious for all the speed traps along its route, so as long as the cars positioned to report the truck's movements have their radar or laser detection devices broadcasting, their presence probably won't raise any undue concerns for our target. An added bonus to that is the effect it will have on overall traffic speeds by slowing everyone on the road down. The toughest challenge is getting the locals to simply report the truck's location without taking any action on their own to intercede. I'm going to be calling each of the involved jurisdictions personally over the next few hours to make certain that they understand and accept their role."

"If we can meet up with Special Agent Anderson and get in position early enough, do you think we should try and tail the target truck?" asked Sean.

"I'll leave that decision up to Anderson, but my gut instinct would be to advise against anything other than strictly passive tracking at this time." Kirby continued, "While we want to break-up the conspiracy that is obviously in place, our first concern is the safety of the girls. There have been instances where traffickers eliminate the evidence when they are cornered."

Amanda gasped when Kirby mentioned this. Sean reached over and squeezed her hand.

"Understood, and we agree with the priorities here," he said. "I'll update you once we have met up with Special Agent Anderson."

"Do you have any weapons with you?" asked Kirby.

"I assume you mean weapons besides myself," answered Sean. Amanda shot him a questioning look, but he ignored it. "Just the Smith & Wesson forty-five compact that I always keep under the seat."

"Well, let's see how things progress before we arm you for bear," said Kirby with a chuckle. "But you don't need arms for a bear, do you? Hopefully we can keep you on a green mission. I'll wait to hear from you. Bye."

Sean glanced over at Amanda and recognized her exhaustion, "Why don't you try to get a little sleep? I can hold off on other calls until later, and once we pick up Special Agent Anderson the conversation in the car will make it harder for you to rest."

"You don't mind? Can I crawl into the back seat and lie down there?"

"Sure," said Sean as he pulled along the shoulder of the road and stopped. "Let's get you as comfortable as possible."

Amanda got out of the front seat. Sean met her at the back door and helped position his duffle bag for her to use it as a pillow as she stretched out across the back seat.

"This is the best we can do for right now, so I hope it allows you to get some rest." He closed the back door and returned to the driver's seat.

"Thank you Sean."

Sean turned off his hands-free Bluetooth and put his phone on vibrate ring before pulling the car back onto the road. He didn't want the phone to wake Amanda in the event someone called. He knew that she had to be exhausted from both a lack of sleep as well as coming down from the Adrenalin rush her ordeal was certain to have produced.

While Sean knew that he should focus his concentration on strategy and tactics for recovering the girls, his thoughts continued to wander to Amanda. Her strength and confidence were obvious, but he was more intrigued by how he had responded to her inquiries into his life. He kept trying to analyze what it was about her that had him sharing himself in such an uninhibited manner. She had a way of listening that made him feel like the most interesting person she had ever encountered.

Maybe it was the fact that he had been introduced to her during a period where she was completely vulnerable that permitted him to share his own vulnerabilities with her. Maybe it was the trust in him that she had demonstrated that allowed him to trust her so much.

Sean spent the next seventy plus minutes contemplating his feelings towards Amanda, and while he came to no conclusions on why he felt the way he did, he could acknowledge that he had absolutely no regrets for sharing anything with her. All he knew for certain was that he had never met another woman who had impacted him as much as Amanda had.

Amanda awoke as Sean was slowing the car on its approach to the main gate at the Marine Corp Logistics Base. In truth, she hadn't slept much. Her mind had been too busy with thoughts of Sean Wallace. No man had ever made her feel more connected, but she wasn't all together certain of what that connection could be between them. Her body was telling her what it wanted, but her heart and mind were playing catch-up. She sat up in the back seat as Sean rolled down his window to speak to the Marine guard who approached the car.

"Hello Corporal, I'm Sean Wallace and I'm supposed to be meeting Special Agent Anderson from Immigration and Customs Enforcement here. Has Special Agent Anderson arrived yet?"

"Yes sir," said the guard. "Special Agent Anderson is in Captain Ewell's office. If you can show me some ID, I will get you a pass and an escort to the Captain's office."

"We are short on time, so could you just ask that Special Agent Anderson be brought here to the gate so that we can get going as soon as possible?"

The corporal was shaking his head as he responded, "My orders are for you to be sent to Captain Ewell's office." Noticing Amanda in the back seat, he modified his earlier request, "If you and the young lady can show me identification, I can get you a pass and an escort as quickly as possible to minimize your delay."

"I don't have any identification." Amanda said to Sean.

The guard heard this and said, "I cannot issue a pass without identification. The young lady will need to wait here while you are escorted to Captain Ewell's office."

"That is unacceptable Corporal," said Sean. "I am going to pull over to the waiting area and make a phone call. You may want to inform Captain Ewell of my arrival in the meantime."

Without waiting for a response, Sean pulled his car into an area for vehicles waiting to pick up personnel from the base. He scrolled through his phone's directory until he found the contact he was looking for and then hit 'dial'.

"Headquarters and Support Battalion, Sergeant Major's Touey's office."

"Please tell the Sergeant Major that Recon Wallace is on the phone," said Sean.

"Captain Recon Wallace?" asked the clerk.

"Still Recon Wallace, but no longer a Captain. Please let the Sergeant Major know I would like to speak with her."

"Yes sir." Within seconds his call was transferred and Sean heard the familiar voice of Tosha Touey on the phone.

"Captain Wallace, how can I be of assistance?" she asked.

"Tosha, do you know who the Sergeant Major is at Logistics Base Albany?" he asked. 

"That would be Kevin Meyers," she said. "Is there a problem?"

Sean went on to explain, "I am working with the Department of Homeland Security in an unofficial capacity. I was supposed to meet a Special Agent from Immigration and Customs Enforcement at the main gate of the Logistics Base, but a Captain Ewell is interfering. I could go through my contacts at DHS to get past him, but I would prefer to handle this through the Corp. Please call Sergeant Meyers and ask him to explain to Captain Ewell who I am, and the urgency of the situation. I need the Special Agent brought to the main gate immediately. Can you do that?"

"Consider it done. Give me your number and I'll call you back within five minutes."

Sean provided his cell phone number and disconnected the call. He turned and looked over the seat at Amanda. "Did the short nap help?"

Amanda rubbed a crease in her face left from lying on the duffle bag and said, "It probably didn't do anything for my looks, but I sure needed it. Thanks."

"At some point, when you get to know me better and trust my sincerity, remind me to tell you just how beautiful you are. I won't tell you now, but when you're ready, I'll make certain that you know."

"Sean Wallace, you are too funny," she laughed. "Thank you."

Only a few minutes passed before the corporal guarding the gate walked over to their car. Sean lowered his window.

"Captain Ewell is bringing Special Agent Anderson to the gate sir. He asked me to inform you that he will be here within two minutes."

Before the guard could return to his station at the gate, a Marine staff car approached from inside the base. When it pulled to the gate the Corporal approached the driver's window and saluted. After a brief exchange, the corporal pointed to Sean's car and returned to his post. The staff car pulled into a space next to Sean and the Captain driving the car got out.

Sean opened his door and walked around the front of his car to meet the Captain half way between their vehicles.

"Captain Wallace?" asked Captain Ewell.

"Recon Wallace. Former Captain with Force Recon, Special Operations Training Group," Sean said.

"Celer, Silens, Mortalis," said Ewell. The Captain was apparently trying to ingratiate himself with Recon by citing the motto of Force Recon, which translates from Latin to "Swift, Silent, Deadly".

"Thanks for accommodating us Captain. I would like to spend more time with you, but we have a very tight tactical operational timeline that we need to meet or exceed."

A tall attractive raven haired woman wearing a FLETC instructor's polo shirt and khaki pants had removed a duffle bag from the staff car and was approaching Sean and Captain Ewell.

"Hello Sean," she said as she gave him a hug that Amanda noticed was more than friendly in its duration and intensity. "It's good to see you again."




Heavy Traffic Ch. 03



"Good to see you too Michelle. Are you ready to roll?"

"Unless Captain Ewell has any other issues with me I believe I'm ready?"

Captain Ewell shook his head. "We were just surprised by the sudden appearance of a DHS helicopter and wanted to know why standard protocols were not followed. The Sergeant Major has explained the situation so there are no further issues here. Please accept my apologies for the delay."

Sean's cell phone vibrated. He checked the display and answered the call from Tosha Touey. "Hi Tosha. Everything is all set here. Thanks for your help."

"Anytime Captain. Take care."

Sean hung up and put his phone back in its holster. He shook Captain Ewell's hand and then led Special Agent Anderson to the front passenger door on his car. He opened the door for her and took her duffle bag. While she got situated, he placed her bag in the back of his car and resumed his place in the driver's seat. Amanda noticed that Agent Anderson had unbuttoned the last bottom button on her polo shirt while they were waiting for Sean to return to his seat.

"Amanda Wallace, I'd like to introduce Michelle Anderson," Sean said as he started his car and began to back out of the parking space.

"I thought your fiancée's name was Kimberly?" said Michelle as she looked over her shoulder at Amanda.

Sean was confused for a second until he remembered that the last time he had been with Michelle Anderson, he was still engaged to Kimberly, and she must think that he and Amanda are now married because of their last names.

"My fiancée's name was Kimberly. Amanda, could you explain the rest to Michelle?"

"Certainly sweetheart," Amanda said. "I stole Sean away from Kimberly and we have been married for over a year now." She said this with a straight face and was able to maintain it until she saw the shocked look on Sean's face in the rear view mirror.

"I'm just teasing," Amanda said with a chuckle. "Sean and I just met today when he saved my life. It is merely a coincidence that our last names are the same."

Michelle smiled at Amanda's joke at Sean's expense then directed her next question to him, "So did you and Kimberly get married or not?"

"Not," said Sean.

"Her loss will definitely be some other lucky girl's gain," said Michelle, and Amanda noticed her smile broaden as well as subtle changes in her body language towards Sean. This tall attractive vixen obviously had an interest in Sean Wallace and Amanda realized that she didn't feel a single flutter of jealousy within herself. She sensed that Sean wouldn't respond to any advances from another woman as long as he was with her. Her trust in the fidelity of a man that she had just met would have surprised her, but for some reason after his explanation about Karen Mason, she almost had expected it where Sean Wallace was concerned.

Michelle turned back to look at Amanda, "I'm please to meet you Amanda. You can call me 'Mickey'. So you were captured with the girls as I understand it?" The breathy voice that she had used when speaking to Sean became entirely professional as she addressed Amanda.

"Yes," Amanda confirmed, "but we were separated early this morning."

Mickey nodded. "Give me a second to activate the recorder feature on my smartphone, and then I would like you to tell me your story from the beginning. I hope you don't mind being recorded because if I tried writing your statement down while riding in a moving vehicle, I'm afraid I would get car sick."

"Of course," said Amanda.

When Mickey gave her the go ahead, she repeated the same details that she had shared earlier with Sean, with clarification or additional details added when Mickey interrupted her with questions.

Once Amanda had finished, Mickey turned off the recorder, turned to Sean and said, "It sounds like Sean has a reward due him for his heroism." She reached over, stroked his arm and continued in a tone that clearly indicated her intentions, "I'll see what I can do to make sure he receives the recognition he deserves."

Sean ignored the obvious flirtation but Amanda sensed his discomfort and thought she should try and change the subject. "Do either of you know if there is an Australian Consulate office in Atlanta? I need to try and get a passport and arrange for some money and credit cards."

Mickey turned back around to face Amanda. "The Australian Consulate in Atlanta closed down in 2012. The closest resource you would have is the embassy in Washington, DC. I can have someone from our headquarters contact them for you and expedite getting you a replacement passport. Let me make the call right now so that you can provide the necessary information to get the process started."

Without waiting for a response, Mickey dialed a number on her phone and put it on speakerphone. Once she had the Director of Enforcement and Removal Operations on the line she explained the situation. The Director asked Mickey to hold for a minute, and when he came back onto the line, he had established a conference call with Consular Services at the Australian Embassy.

A professional voice with a proud Australian accent said, "This is Gregory Talbot. I understand that someone needs to obtain a replacement passport. Can I have the name of the traveler please?"

Amanda leaned forward to speak into Mickey's phone, "My name is Amanda Jean Wallace. My Mother's maiden name was Graham. My residence is in the Northern Territory and my date of birth is March 18, 1989. What else will you need to know?"

"Amanda Wallace of Wallace Holdings?"

Watching Sean's eyes in the rearview mirror for his reaction, Amanda said, "Yes, that's me."

"Good Lord! We had no idea that you were traveling to the United States Miss Wallace. Normally we would have been notified so that we could be prepared to assist you. Do you mind if I ask what your point of departure from Australia was? Heads will definitely roll over this."

Both Sean and Mickey had looks of curiosity on their faces but remained silent as Amanda continued, "This wasn't a planned trip Mr. Talbot. I didn't depart from Australia. I was volunteering in East Timor when I was captured along with twenty-five orphan girls by slave traders. I was rescued this morning when I was taken off the ship that brought us here."

Mickey cut in at this point, "Amanda is currently working with US authorities to locate and rescue the rest of the girls that were captured along with her. She is in our protective custody and we will make certain that her every need is taken care of until we can safely return her to your Embassy."

The Director of Enforcement and Removal Operations added, "While our guest in this country, Miss Wallace's immigration or visitor status will not be an issue, but we wanted her Embassy to be aware of the situation and be prepared to assist her when she eventually returns to Australia."

"Of course," said the Consular agent. "Miss Wallace, is there anything further that we can assist you with in the meantime?"

Amanda spoke again, "I believe I will need some form of identification in order for me to get my credit cards reissued and to have my bank release some funds to me here. Does anyone have any suggestions in this regard?"

"The Embassy will be able to assist you with all of that Miss Wallace. If you would like to provide me with the details of which credit cards you would like reissued as well as the amount of any funds you require, I'll get on it for you immediately along with a replacement passport which should serve as adequate identification for you. I should be able to have everything ready for you to pick up from an American Express office within a couple of hours, but definitely by close of business today. How can I get in touch with you once everything is in place?"

Mickey gave him her cell phone number and provided their destination for today as Atlanta for the proper American Express office to be identified.

As soon as she finished, Amanda continued, "If you could assist with getting my passport and American Express card reissued, I could handle the transfer of funds from that point. I would also appreciate it if you could contact Jeremy Thorndike at Thorndike and Rogers to let him know my situation. Tell him that I will contact him as soon as I can, but no later than tomorrow evening."

"Excellent. Miss Wallace, please note my direct number is xxx-xxx-xxxx. I am at your service twenty-four hours a day."

"One more thing Mr. Talbot. As of this time, only five people, including you know of my situation and the circumstances related to it. I am a very private person Mr. Talbot, so if anything about me shows up in the press, I will have a very short list of heads to place on spikes. Please provide my status and location to Jeremy Thorndike but no one else without either his or my approval. Is that understood?

"I should let the Ambassador know, but I will relay your desires to her as well."

"As long as you and the Ambassador recognize that these are not 'desires', but demands then I am fine with you letting her know. Thank you Mr. Talbot."

After disconnecting the call, Mickey looked at Sean and then turned back to study Amanda. "Are you a member of the royal family or something?"

Amanda laughed and said, "There's not a drop of royal blood in my body."

"Then who are you?" asked Mickey. "I mean besides 'Amanda Jean Wallace of Wallace Holdings'?"

"That's all I am," said Amanda. Her dejected tone was not lost on Sean.

Mickey was getting frustrated so she decided to Google Amanda's name. She had to modify her search by adding "Australia" to the string before she started seeing results that shed some light onto the situation.

After reading the results for a few minutes she turned once again to Sean and said, "Amanda Jean Wallace is one of the 10 wealthiest women in Australia with a net worth of more than $300 million dollars. She's richer than Nicole Kidman for crying out loud."

Turning back to Amanda she asked, "That's who you are, right?"

Amanda simply nodded and turned to look out the side window of the car. Sean watched her reaction in the rearview mirror. He recognized the defeated expression that comes from losing the anonymity that allows a person to be viewed as "normal". He knew better than most how it felt to be treated special because of wealth, and he wanted to share this with Amanda, but he didn't think that this was the right time or place.

Mickey was still reviewing the details she had found on Amanda. "You won an Olympic medal?"

Amanda nodded but kept her eyes on Sean's as she said, "I won an individual Silver and a team Bronze at the 2008 games."

"Impressive," said Sean. "What was your sport?"

"Twenty-five meter pistol," said Amanda.

Mickey and Sean exchanged glances but didn't comment further on Amanda's background. "We're going to be hitting interstate 75 soon," Sean said as he paired his phone with the hands-free Bluetooth again. "I want to see if we can find out where the truck is at this point." 

"Wallace", was the greeting when his uncle answered.

"Any update on the location of our target truck?" asked Sean.

"Hold on and I'll get the latest," replied Kirby. After a minute he came back on the line, "Still northbound on 75 approaching exit 97."

"Perfect," said Sean. "We'll be entering 75 at exit 99 in about five minutes. We should be falling in right behind them."

Turning to Amanda so that she knew he was including her in the conversation he went on, "Anyone have suggestions on how we proceed? Personally, I'm for getting the girls safely off the truck and continuing to investigate the conspiracy after that."

"The safety of the girls has to be the priority," said Mickey. "If we can rescue them without tipping off the conspirators that would be the ideal situation."

"I have some thoughts on how to handle the rescue," said Sean. "Uncle Kirby, could you arrange for some cellular dead zones along our route, say the entire section of interstate 475?"

"It would take me about five minutes to shut the towers down in that area," said Kirby. "I have a direct line established already with Ericsson and their technicians are standing by the switches."

"Good," said Sean. "Let me make another call to see what I can get in place to stop the truck and separate it from the blue van. I'll get back to you in a few minutes Uncle Kirby."

Looking at Mickey again Sean said, "Can you start making arrangements for handling the girls once we get them off the truck? We'll need transportation and a location for you to take them for processing."

Before Mickey could answer Amanda interrupted, "I need to be there with the girls. They will be frightened and few of them understand any English. Most speak Portuguese, but some only speak native Tetum Dili. Some will also likely require at least minor medical attention."

Mickey agreed with Amanda, "I think you being there at the rescue would make things much easier for everyone. I'll get a bus heading south from Atlanta immediately with a team of agents for transport and then start identifying suitable locations for the girls to be treated and processed."

Mickey started dialing her phone as Sean disabled his hands free and spoke into his own phone with voice dial instructions. Amanda had trouble following the two subsequent one-sided conversations as Sean and Mickey each gave instructions and received information on their respective plans, so she tried to focus her attention on what Sean was saying.

"John, you do not need to check with anyone else before following instructions that I give you," Sean was telling the person on the other end of the conversation. "I don't care what you have been told. I own the company and unless you want to find other employment you will do what I say immediately and without question." There was a slight pause as Sean listened. He then continued, "Fine, I will follow the verbal instructions up with an e-mail to you, but don't wait for that before doing what I instructed. I expect you to call me back in five minutes confirming my directions are being carried out." He hung up and just stared out the windshield for a few seconds.

"What are you trying to do?" asked Amanda. Mickey was still engrossed in her own conversation and wasn't paying attention to Sean's call.

"One of the truck stops I own is up ahead about forty miles north of us. I want to get three of the trucks currently there - hopefully ones also owned by one of my companies - to help us create a rolling blockade of the target truck somewhere along interstate 475. I'm getting real irritated by the pushback I have been receiving every time I give instructions to people who supposedly work for me and I don't have the time right now to deal with the cause of this irritation. It's almost like someone has been subverting my authority while I have been out on my sabbatical."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" asked Amanda?

Sean thought for a minute, remembering how assertive Amanda had been in her dealing with the Australian Embassy official and then looked at her in the rearview mirror. He saw a way that he could use her skills at intimidation to his benefit and to keep her mind off the pending rescue of the girls. She would need to be accepted as having the authority to speak for him. "Would you marry me?"

"Excuse me?"

He had a grin on his face when he said, "Your little joke with Mickey earlier gives me an idea. Let's stop at that Subway up the road for some sandwiches and I'll explain my idea while we wait for our orders."

After placing orders for their sandwiches and one for Mickey, Sean explained his idea to Amanda and he was pleased to see her smile mischievously. "If you were to pretend to be my wife, your authority to act on my behalf would be accepted by most people.

Returning to the car, Sean handed his cell phone to Amanda, "Here, take my phone and find a contact for my lawyers, Middleton, Parker and Pierre. Call the number, put the phone on speaker and ask for Bryce Pierre."

Amanda did as he requested and as the phone started to ring, she held the phone near the headrest of Sean's seat and leaned forward. Mickey moved her head farther to the right to continue her own cell phone conversation.

"Law offices," was the greeting.

Amanda spoke in a firm, professional voice, "Sean Wallace calling for Bryce Pierre." 

"One moment, I will see if Mr. Pierre is available." Hold music filled the background.

Within only a few minutes, the voice of Bryce Pierre was heard, "Mr. Wallace, what can I do for you?"

"Bryce, I want to start by introducing you to Amanda Wallace. She will be acting on my authority for the remainder of our conversation. Is that understood?"

Amanda took her queue and said, "Mr. Pierre, I look forward to meeting you very shortly, but in the meantime we have been receiving some troubling feedback from several of our employees that we wanted to discuss with you."

"I wasn't aware that you had married, Mr. Wallace. Did you have another firm prepare a pre-nuptial agreement?"

Amanda cut him off, "We are not calling to discuss our pre or post nuptials with you Mr. Pierre, and unless you want to stay focused on our current concerns, I am prepared to move all of Sean's legal representation over to my own legal team at Thorndike and Roberts. If you want to call them to check on me, feel free. Ask for Jeremy Thorndike in their Sydney offices. If you call right now, you'll get their after-hours switchboard, but if you say you're calling on my behalf, you will be put right through to Jeremy. I'll give you five minutes."

The hold music returned and Sean smiled broadly and nodded at Amanda to show his satisfaction with the role she was playing.

Pierre was back within the time limit he had been given. "Mr. and Mrs. Wallace, I want to apologize and take the opportunity to congratulate both of you. Now, how can I be of service?"

"I assume that Jeremy didn't have much time but was suitably able to convince you of my validity?"

"Yes Mrs. Wallace. He made it clear that you were someone I should take very seriously. Trust me, I do."

Amanda continued without acknowledging Pierre's comments. "We want to know what circumstances may have occurred that would have usurped Sean's authority with his own employees. Every request or instruction given today to an employee of one of our companies has been met with reluctance until it is approved by Tom Folsom. Why would employees of our company feel recalcitrant where Sean's instructions are concerned?"

"Well, it's rather complicated to explain over the phone..."

"There is nothing complicated about this Mr. Pierre. I am still the sole owner of Wallace Enterprises, am I not?" asked Sean.

"Yes, of course, but..."

"No buts," said Amanda. "We want you to do your job and represent our interest over all others or I'll find someone who will. Is that understood?"

"Yes, of course. What would you like me to do?" said Pierre.

Amanda continued the authoritative lead that she thought Sean was seeking from her, "We want you to immediately draft a memorandum to all employees reminding them of who they work for and that any further hesitation on their behalf to follow direct instructions from either Mr. Wallace or myself will be considered insubordination and subject them to immediate termination. I want to see a copy of it on Sean's phone within thirty minutes. In addition, we want you to initiate a forensic audit of all company financials to commence no later than 48 hours from now. I want you to use auditors recommended by Thorndike and Rogers and no others. You will not notify anyone at Wallace Enterprises of this pending audit. Finally, we want you to notify all manger level employees and higher that they are to remain on-call for a meeting with Sean and myself at a time and place to be communicated to them shortly. This will be a mandatory meeting and nothing short of the person being confined to intensive care will be accepted as an excuse for not participating."




Heavy Traffic Ch. 03



"I'll get right on it," said Pierre.

"We suspect that some wholesale personnel changes have been going on in Sean's absence and I must tell you Mr. Pierre, Sean and I are both disappointed that we had to make this call to you. Your firm was entrusted to represent the interests of Sean Wallace and it appears that you have failed miserably. Your actions now will determine what the future holds for your entire firm. As Jeremy told you, you had better take me serious when I tell you that I am going to be looking into your failures much more thoroughly."

Sean spoke up, "Mr. Pierre, you had better make certain that everyone in your firm, as well as everyone who works for me recognizes that Amanda Wallace speaks with the full authority of the owner. If I hear of anyone questioning her authority it will be the last thing they do as either an employee or representative of my companies. Understood?

"Yes sir. I'll make certain that Mrs. Wallace's role is clearly communicated to everyone." 

"Do you have Sean's cell phone number Mr. Pierre?" asked Amanda.

"Yes, it is in our files and in my own contact list."

Amanda wanted to drive their point home one last time, "Then I strongly suggest that you learn how to use it Mr. Pierre. If another major decision is made concerning our companies without us hearing from you first your days of practicing any type of law will be over. Have I made myself clear?"

"Completely Mrs. Wallace."

Amanda ended the call only seconds before she broke into laughter. Sean was proud of her and wanted her to know it. "Amanda, you are the best thing to come into my life that I can ever remember. Thank you."

"I feel the same way Sean. I would do anything for you. I hope you know that."

Mickey had finished her call just as Amanda was making this statement and she looked between Sean and Amanda trying to see what had happened while she had been distracted. "Is everything alright?" she asked.

"Sean and I were just discussing how many children we each wanted to have," teased Amanda.

"I see," said Mickey as she started eating her sandwich. "Well, a bus is on its way south. Our challenge is finding someplace for the girls to be processed that doesn't add to their fear and confusion. None of the medical facilities in the metro Atlanta area have space for 25 young girls and our Immigration Detention Center would be a pretty brutal environment considering what these girls have been through. We're trying to find a hotel or other facility that we would be able to secure for a couple of days."

"Does Mrs. Wallace want to work some more of her magic?" Sean asked. Mickey raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"What do you have in mind?" Amanda asked.

"I need to leave my phone open for a few minutes to get the roadblock coordinated, but if you'll look through the contact list and write down the information for Keith Longo, maybe you can call him on Mickey's phone. He is, or at least was, vice president of my hospitality division. We have multiple hotel and motel properties in the Atlanta area, so see if he can find us twenty to thirty rooms at one location that we can use while processing the girls. Mickey, do you think that would be enough rooms for the girls and your personnel?"

As Sean was finishing Amanda found Keith Longo's information and was writing it down. "Got it," she told Sean.

After considering the situation, Mickey answered Sean's question as she handed her cell phone over the seat to Amanda, "If we double some of the girls up, putting a younger girl with an older one whenever possible, twenty to thirty rooms will be more than adequate."

As she was preparing to dial the number she had for Keith Longo, Sean's cell phone rang. She decided to wait to hear about the roadblock before getting distracted.

Sean answered his phone, "Wallace." After listening for a few minutes he said, "Text the cell phone numbers for each of the truck drivers to the following number." He provided his Uncle Kirby's cell phone number. "They need to get in position now, so I suggest that they stay close to 475 and wait for the target to approach. Make certain that they space themselves out so they don't appear to be together until we make our move. Right, thanks."

Without saying anything to Mickey or Amanda, Sean called his Uncle Kirby.

"We're ready to implement a rescue operation," Sean said once Kirby was on the phone. "I have contacted our truck stop off exit 155 on interstate 75. Assuming the target truck uses the bypass around Macon, in approximately forty-five minutes we will have three of our own trucks positioned to box in the target truck along interstate 475. I can probably handle the captors in the blue van by myself, but if you could get me some additional support I would appreciate it. The cell phone numbers for the trucks will be texted to you, so I'll need you to coordinate a conference call between all of them, my cell phone, and anyone else that we can get involved in the rescue operation. We're going to have to finish our communications prior to initiating the actual roadblock because we will need the cell towers turned off to prevent any of the traders or someone in the truck raising an alarm farther down the distribution channel."

"What about the girls in the truck?" asked Kirby.

"Mickey Anderson already has a bus heading south from Atlanta and my darling wife Amanda is going to make hotel reservations for everyone."

"Your darling wife?" chuckled Kirby.

"I'll explain it later," said Sean. "Are you on board with the plan?"

"How do you want to handle other vehicles on the interstate?" asked Kirby.

"475 northbound has three lanes in the area I'm targeting. Our activity will tie up at least the right two lanes for the duration of the roadblock and rescue, but once we have the situation secured, we should be able to get the entire roadway cleared and all vehicles off to the right shoulder. It might be safer if the local authorities could block the highway for the takedown and then just the right lane for a while, at least until we can get the girls loaded onto their bus."

"I think we can stage some local marked cruisers out of sight on a few on-ramps so they can support you from behind when the time is right," said Kirby.

"That's what I was hoping," agreed Sean. "Let's get to work."



Heavy Traffic Ch. 04



Sean and Mickey continued to discuss their tactics for the rescue as Amanda checked Sean's e-mail and noticed a new message from Bryce Pierre.

"Bryce Pierre has sent out an e-mail," she told Sean. Do you want me to read it to you?"

"Yeah, let's see what he had to say."

Amanda started reading aloud;

'To: All employees of Wallace Enterprises

From: Bryce Pierre - Attorney at Law

Subject: Insubordination

As the legal representative for Wallace Enterprises and its owner Sean Wallace, I have been asked to remind all employees of their role within the organization.

Wallace Enterprises is divided into three divisions; Hospitality, Retail, and Communications. These divisions are comprised of multiple independent companies operating under their own management, brand and banner, but they are all wholly owned by Wallace Enterprises. Wallace Enterprises in turn is wholly owned by Sean Wallace. Consequently, every employee of a Wallace Enterprises company reports in the end to Mr. Wallace.

The final authority for all decisions related to any Wallace Enterprises division, company or employee continues to reside solely with Sean Wallace, although he expects you all to recognize this authority is shared equally with Mrs. Amanda Wallace from this day forward.

All employees of Wallace Enterprises are hereby notified that any hesitation or failure to comply with direct instructions or requests from Sean or Amanda Wallace will be deemed insubordinate and subject to immediate termination.

Questions concerning this memorandum should be directed to your immediate manager or human resources.'

"Let's see how it works," said Amanda as she used Mickey's phone to try to reach Keith Longo. Dialing the number taken from Sean's phone she waited for her call to be answered.

"Mr. Morris' office," came the greeting as the call was answered.

"Good day," said Amanda. "I'm trying to reach Keith Longo"

"Keith Longo is no longer with us. Mark Morris is now Vice President of Hospitality."

"When did Keith leave the company?" asked Amanda.

"May I ask who is calling?" said the secretary.

"My name is Amanda Wallace. May I ask what your name is?"

"My name is Nina Aldaco. How can I help you?"

"Nina, do you have e-mail?"

"Sure," said Nina.

"Will you please check your e-mail and tell me if you have received one recently from a Bryce Pierre?"

"Okay, hold on." There was a brief pause before she said, "Yes, I just received it about five minutes ago."

"Please read it now," said Amanda. "Let me know when you are done."

Amanda could almost see Nina's lips moving as she envisioned her reading the e-mail. 

"I'm done," Nina said. "What does the e-mail have to do with Keith Longo? He's no longer with the company."

"Nina, my name is Amanda Wallace. Did you notice me being mentioned in the e-mail from Bryce Pierre?"

"I saw your name, yes."

"Do you understand that Sean Wallace owns the company that you work for and that he has final authority on all decisions made relative to the operation of the company?"

"I understand that he owns the company, but in the six months that I have been here, I have never met Mr. Wallace, so I wouldn't know him if he stood in front of me right now. Furthermore, he may own the company, but I report directly to Mr. Morris and until instructed otherwise by someone who I do know and recognize as having the proper authority tells me otherwise, that is where my first responsibility lies."

"Nina, please put this Mr. Morris on the phone."

"I cannot tell Mr. Morris to take a call from you or anyone else. I can inform him that you are on the phone and see if he wants to talk to you. Would you like me to do that?"

Amanda respected the way this assistant was standing up to her. "Yes please."

"I'll see if he is available." She place Amanda on hold. When she came back she asked, "Can I tell Mr. Morris what this is regarding?"

"Why don't you tell him it is regarding the e-mail from Bryce Pierre to start with?"

"Okay, hold on." After only a few seconds she was back. "Mr. Morris asks for me to take a message."

"Nina, I am not requesting any longer. You will get Mr. Morris on this phone immediately or your employment is terminated. Sean Wallace owns the company you work for Nina, and I am Mrs. Wallace. Do you need me to spell things out for you any clearer than that?"

"If you are who you say you are and want to fire me for doing my job then please do. I wouldn't want to work for you anyway. Hold on," she said as she once again placed Amanda on hold.

"This is Mark Morris. Who am I speaking with?" The voice she heard had such an insignificant tonal quality and was so devoid of inflection that Amanda was surprised it could be carried over telephone lines.

"Mr. Morris, my name is Amanda Wallace. If you have taken the time to read the e-mail from Bryce Pierre, you should know who I am."

"Actually, you are some strange voice on the other end of a telephone line and I have no evidence that you are anyone I should even be talking with," said Morris.

"Fair enough Mr. Morris. Your employment with Wallace Enterprises is hereby terminated. You will have ten minutes to vacate the building before I have you arrested for trespassing. Please take Nina Aldaco with you."

"Now wait a minute," Morris said. "How am I supposed to know who you really are?

"That's your problem. I tried to be professional and civil with both you and your little gargoyle, but neither Sean nor I will tolerate insubordination. If you question my authority you can take it up with the police officers who will be arriving shortly to escort you from the building."

"Okay, okay," he said. "I believe you are who you say you are. What can I do for you?"

"I need you to arrange for 30 rooms at one of our properties in the Atlanta area for five nights starting tonight, preferably all on the same floor. I don't care if you have to relocate guests to other properties, cancel reservations or kick people out. Your instructions are to find me the rooms, period. Understood?"

"May I ask why?" said Morris.

"Certainly, and the reason is one that you need to remember for the future. The reason is because your boss told you to. Any further questions?"

"No," said Morris through gritted teeth. "How do you want me to confirm the rooms and the location to you?"

"Send an e-mail to Sean's e-mail address with the details. You haven't impressed me so far Mr. Morris, let's see if you can do better. Goodbye."

Amanda handed the phone back to Mickey. "That should be taken care of," she said. 

Sean looked at her in the rearview mirror. "You were talking to someone named Mark Morris?"

Amanda nodded. "Apparently he replaced Keith Longo. I take it you knew nothing about the change?"

"If I did, it wouldn't have happened. How could anyone think that I would ever let Mark Morris work for one of my companies?"

"Why?" asked Amanda.

"Mark Morris is the guy that was pretending to be Kimberly's brother," said Sean.

"Sean, I'm beginning to think that we have some serious personnel issues to deal with." 

"Yes Mrs. Wallace, I think we do."

***

Tom Folsom was recovering from his latest sexual tryst with Kimberly Morris (nee DuPont) when his cell phone rang. Kimberly handed him the phone from the bedside table as she left the bed, walked to the bathroom and closed the door behind her.

Folsom saw from his caller ID that the call was from Kimberly's husband and smiled as he answered, "What's up Mark?"

"It looks like our Boy Scout has resurfaced and he appears to have brought a missus Boy Scout back with him. You need to check the e-mail that Bryce Pierre just sent out. Actually, now it appears there's more than one. Hold on, let me read this new one."

While Morris read the new e-mail, Folsom went to his laptop on the desk in the bedroom and logged into his own e-mail account. Kimberly came out of the bathroom with a damp washcloth and began to silently clean the remnants of their sex from him as he read the messages.

"You don't have any idea who this Amanda Wallace is?" asked Folsom. Kimberly raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything.

"No clue," said Morris. "She certainly believes she has some authority though. I can tell you that she has an accent - it sounded British but it may have been Australian. I've never been good at distinguishing the difference between the two. If she is to be believed, she will not tolerate anything short of immediate and full compliance with her orders. I didn't want to test her too much when she called me."

"Has anyone actually heard from the Boy Scout himself?" asked Folsom.

"Apparently he made arrangements earlier today through his assistant Maureen to fly someone named Glenn Parker from Dulles to Bainbridge, Georgia."

Kimberly saw the reaction to whatever her husband had told Folsom before Morris heard it in his response, "Did you say Glenn Parker and he was being flown to Bainbridge?"

"That's what I was told," replied Morris.

"See what other information you can dig up on the reason for the flight arrangements, and do it quickly. We may have bigger problems than a meddlesome owner showing up." Looking down at Kimberly as she started trying to restore his arousal with her mouth he added, "Have you spoken to anyone else about any of this yet?"

"No," said Morris. "I assume Kimberly is with still with you, so you can share what you want with her." Mark knew exactly what his wife and Tom Folsom did while together. He had been their cuckold since he and Kimberly met and accepted his role willingly. 

"I'll discuss it with her when the time is right. I think the three of us need to have a conference call with Bryce Pierre this afternoon."

"Got it. Talk to you later."

Kimberly removed her mouth from Folsom when she saw that her efforts were not achieving the desired results. "Want to tell me what's going on?"

"You may want to read these two e-mails and then we'll see if we can start figuring out what's going on together."

He stood from the chair so that she could sit down in front of the laptop. She opened the oldest e-mail from Bryce Pierre first. "Did that son of a bitch marry someone?" she seethed. "Who is this Amanda Wallace?"

"It appears that she and Sean are husband and wife from the content and tone of Pierre's e-mail. Your husband said that she has an accent, either British or Australian, and apparently she expects people to do what she says when she says it."

Folsom nudged Kimberly out of the chair and took her place, "You better get dressed and on your way. I need for you to be in your own office before I arrange a conference call with Pierre."

Kimberly's anger had replaced her own arousal so Folsom received no argument from her as she went back into the bathroom and started the shower.

***

Sean turned his attention back to the road. They had been on interstate 75 for the last ten minutes so he and Mickey had been watching for the target truck being followed by a blue van. He called his uncle for a location update.

Kirby gave them the latest, "The target truck is in the far right lane approaching exit 117 so you're about ten miles back. There is road construction that has the highway reduced to three lanes at that point. Your vehicle description has been sent to all the local authorities, so you have a green light to push your speed as circumstances allow."

"How soon can you coordinate a conference call with the three other trucks?"

"I want to confirm a couple of other arrangements for your support first. Let's shoot for about ten minutes from now and I'll bring everyone in on a conference call from here," said Kirby.

"Sounds good. Talk to you then."

When Sean disconnected the call, Amanda asked him if she could use his phone to check his e-mail for a confirmation from Mark Morris.

"Sure," said Sean. "While you have it, you may want to call Brian Hibbert. He is in charge of IT support for my sporting goods retail operation, 'Wilderness Outfitters'. His office is in Alpharetta, Georgia so depending on the hotel we stay at he will be within an hour's drive from us. Ask him to get you setup with an e-mail account with Wallace Enterprises, then tell him what you would like for a cell phone, laptop and anything else you want. Tell him we want it prepared to be delivered to you tonight at the latest."

"Thank you Sean that would make things much easier for me."

"Nothing's too good for Mrs. Wallace," Sean grinned at her.

Mickey's expression was turning more and more stoic as Sean and Amanda continued their charade of being husband and wife, but she didn't say anything.

Amanda found an e-mail from Mark Morris and after reading it relayed the information to Sean and Mickey, "Mr. Morris' tone denotes a need for some attitude adjustment but he has confirmed thirty rooms for us at a hotel called 'Wonderland Inn and Suites' off interstate 20, near someplace called 'Six Flags over Georgia".

"The girls will like that place," said Sean. "The 'Wonderland' brand is our family-oriented chain. We try to place them near amusement parks and other attractions popular with families. The rooms and amenities are tailored more for children than hotels that cater to business travelers."

"Let me call Mr. Morris back and let him know that I received the information," said Amanda, but she didn't wait for a response before dialing the phone.

"Mr. Morris' office."

Amanda recognized Nina's voice. "Hello Nina. This is Amanda Wallace again. May I speak with Mr. Morris please?"

"Certainly Mrs. Wallace, I'll get him for you. Please hold on."

Mark Morris was on the phone within seconds, "Mrs. Wallace?"

"Mr. Morris, I wanted to thank you for your assistance with the rooms. That is exactly the type of performance Sean and I will expect from all of our employees in the future. I look forward to meeting you in the very near future. You did receive notice that we will be calling a managers meeting soon, didn't you?"

"Yes I did. Does this mean that you and Mr. Wallace will be taking a more hands-on role from now on?"

"I am not going to discuss our intentions with you Mr. Morris because they are not your concern. Just keep doing your job and following directions given to you and the future will take care of itself. How long have you been in your current position Mr. Morris?"

"I have been here six months"

"And what happened to Keith Longo to make your position available to you?"

"Keith was discharged," said Morris.

"Interesting," said Amanda. "I'm sure that Sean would have mentioned it to me if he discharged one of our vice presidents, so maybe you can enlighten me as to who other than either Mr. Wallace or me feels that they had the authority to discharge Keith Longo."

"I wasn't with the company at the time, so I can't say who made the decision," said Morris but his wavering voice implied that he did.

"Well then," Amanda continued, "Assuming that the same person who felt they had the authority to fire Keith Longo also felt that they had the authority to hire his replacement, maybe you can tell me who it was that hired you?"

Morris knew that Tom Folsom would not be pleased but he saw no way to avoid answering the question posed to him, "I was hired by Tom Folsom."

"Ah yes, the elusive Mr. Tom Folsom. Tell me Mr. Morris, are you loyal to Mr. Folsom?"

"Sure, I guess. He's treated me well and I respect him, so yeah I would say I'm loyal to him."

"That's fine. Now tell me if you are more loyal to Mr. Folsom than you are to Mr. Wallace and me? I mean, your history of deception where Sean is concerned would surely make us curious don't you think?"

"I don't know what you mean," said Morris.

"Do you intend to blame Kimberly DuPont for all the deception, Mr. Morris?"

He was silent so long that Amanda decided to prompt him, "How is Kimberly by the way?"

His response was so low that Amanda barely heard it, "She's fine."

"How does she feel about you working for Sean?"

"Well, I have been reporting to Tom Folsom since I started so it hasn't been an issue for us yet."

"Do you think it will be an issue once the proper chain of command is re-established?"

"Reporting to you or Sean will be a bigger issue for her than for me," he offered.

"How so?" Amanda asked.

"Kimberly was hired to replace Marilyn Turner as vice president of the Communications division the same time I was hired for my position."

"Was Marilyn Turner also discharged?" asked Amanda.

"Yes."

"Interesting. Mr. Morris, when you happen to speak to Mr. Folsom please let him know that I would like to chat with him at his earliest convenience or by the end of business today, whichever occurs first."

"I'll pass your request along..."

Amanda's voice became very firm and tight, "Mr. Morris, do not ever confuse a direct order from me as a 'request'. Is that clear?"

"Yes it is."

"Good. Thank you again for arranging for the rooms." She disconnected the call and handed the phone back to Sean.

"It appears that this Tom Folsom fellow has initiated a mutiny of sorts within your company Sean," said Amanda. "What do you know about him?"

"We'll discuss it later," said Sean, dismissing the subject with obvious irritation in his voice. "You forgot to call Brian Hibbert." He handed the phone back to her. "Please make it quick."

Amanda wasn't offended by Sean's tone as she took the phone back, scrolled through the contact list until she found the right number, and then hit "dial".

"IT, Brian speaking."

"Hello Brian, my name is Amanda Wallace."

"Hello Mrs. Wallace. Congratulations to you and Sean. What can I do for you?"

"Sean asked me to call you to have you set me up with a corporate e-mail account and to see if you could provide me with a cell phone and laptop computer."

"It would be my pleasure. I'll get your e-mail account established immediately. Your user name will be your first name and last name separated by a period at Wallace dot com. Your temporary password will be today's date, entering two digits for both the month and day but four digits for the year. No spaces or symbols."

"Sounds easy enough," Amanda said.

"What type of cell phone and laptop would you like?" Brian asked.

"I think things would be simplest if you were to get me the exact same models for both as Sean currently has. That way we can share accessories, chargers, and be able to seamlessly move between each other's units." Amanda enjoyed the permanence that her request implied.

"I hope I'm not being too forward, but I can see how Sean would have been attracted to you. You obviously have great common sense and make very wise choices."

"Thank you Brian, I am flattered. How soon can you have the items ready?"

"I have the items available now. The cell phone will need to be activated and have a number assigned to it, but my rep with the cell phone company should be able to handle that within half an hour. With your permission, I will go ahead and setup and then synchronize your e-mail account on it."

"That would be appreciated Brian. Thank you"

"My pleasure. The laptop is also available but it will take about two hours to burn the standard image files onto the hard drive."

"That's wonderful Brian. Would you be able to have the items couriered to me at the Wonderland Inn and Suites off interstate 20 near Six Flags as soon as they're ready? If I haven't checked in yet, just leave them with the front desk for me."

"Consider it done. Is there anything else that I can do for you Mrs. Wallace?"

"Not at the moment, but I may be calling on you for some additional IT projects in the near future."

"I look forward to meeting you. Take care."

Amanda handed the phone back to Sean once again. He nodded and smiled at her as he paired the hands-free Bluetooth one more time and also plugged in the charger to the cigarette lighter so that he wouldn't have to worry about the battery going dead on them. Sean had also liked the permanence that Amanda's request implied, and he felt proud that others were as impressed with his "wife" as he was.




Heavy Traffic Ch. 04



Mickey continued to observe Sean's responses to Amanda. She had to admit that Amanda certainly knew how to handle herself and to effectively impart her will onto others, using either kindness or intimidation when each was called for. She had a smile that inspired servitude, without arrogance or entitlement. Each interaction that Sean had observed between Amanda and another person had obviously increased his admiration in her. Her "Adam, come try a taste of this apple" smile had been saved exclusively for Sean, and it had apparently worked its magic. It was also obvious that Amanda worshiped Sean and she made no secret of her devotion to him. For two people who had known each other for only a few hours, there was a clear and visible bond, and much to Mickey's dismay, it seemed to be growing by the minute. Amanda was about to impress her and Sean even further.

"Sean, could I make a suggestion about the rescue?" Amanda asked.

Sean met her eyes in the rearview mirror and said, "What's that?"

"We're assuming that the blue van following the truck is carrying the traders, right? I suggest that we verify that by you driving past the van and let me see if I recognize anyone in it. If it is holding the traders, then I'll try to get a count of how many of them are in the van, which will then tell us how many might be either in the cab of the truck or inside the carrier with the girls. Ideally, all six traders would be in the blue van, which would allow us to separate them from the truck and make rescuing the girls much safer for everyone."

"How would you suggest separating the van from the truck?"

"The first idea that comes to mind is to give them a flat tire so that they have to pull over to the side of the road. If you position this car behind them, maybe Mickey could shoot out their right rear tire without them noticing the shot. Once they are on the side of the road and away from the truck, they would be sitting ducks."

Sean considered her suggestion. "Even if only some of the traders are in the van, dividing their force makes sense. Okay, let's start by passing the van and getting you a chance to see inside it. My back windows are tinted dark enough that no one will be able to see you back there as long as you don't press your face against the inside of the glass."

"Speak of the devil," said Mickey. "I think I have the blue van in sight about a half mile ahead in the right lane."

"Okay," said Sean. "I'll pass it on the left so why don't you go ahead and scoot over to the right side of the back seat Amanda. Mickey, as we pass the truck try to see if there is anyone in the cab besides the driver. You may not be able to see anything until we're far enough in front of it for you to see the windshield in your side mirror so let's get it adjusted for you now. I have the controls over here, so I'll move it per your instructions. Use one of the trucks behind us as your guide."

Mickey guided the adjustment of the right side mirror until it was positioned so that she could use it to see the windshield of trucks as they passed them. "All set," she said.

Amanda had moved over behind Mickey and she also confirmed that she was in position. Sean sped up to cut the distance between them and the blue van faster. Within only a few seconds, they were passing it. Sean slowed slightly to allow Amanda plenty of time to inspect the occupants of the van.

"I recognize the driver and front passenger," said Amanda. There are two passengers in the middle seat and two more in the very back seat, but I can't see their faces clearly. I would say that we have all six of the traders in the van."

"That's good news," said Sean. "Now let's see if the driver of the truck is alone. Get ready Mickey."

Sean sped up again to pass the container truck. He had to get ahead of it by several car lengths before Mickey had the windshield visible to her in the side mirror. "Only the driver is visible," she said.

"Okay," said Sean. "I'm going to get off at the next exit and let them get in front of us again." He heard his cell phone ring through the car's speakers and he answered it.

"Sean?" said his Uncle Kirby. "Hold on while I bring the three drivers on the line with us."

"Before you do, Amanda got a look at the men in the blue van and identified them as the ones who captured her and the girls. That is definite confirmation that we have the right truck and it is our target," said Sean.

"Good to know," said Kirby. "Hold on. Stan, Bruce, and Tony; are all of you on?" Three separate voices acknowledged their connection to the conference call. "Good. Sean, why don't you take it from here?"

"Yes sir. Gentlemen, my name is Sean Wallace. While you all work for one of the companies I own, I am recruiting each of you today to perform a task in service to your country, not to me or my companies. We need your assistance to rescue 25 young girls who are being held prisoner against their will. There should be no danger to any of you related to your participation in this operation, and your activities will be legal and fully sanctioned by the proper authorities. I must insist that you keep our operation secret until it is completed, but after that, you will be free to discuss it. Are you all in agreement with participating in the operation under these terms?"

"Yes," came the first response.

"Count me in," came the second.

"I'm in," came the third.

"Thanks," said Sean. "Now here's what we need to do. The target truck is currently northbound on I-75 approaching exit 146. As soon as it passes exit 155 where the three of you are waiting, you will need to enter the highway and start positioning yourselves. Once the target truck has committed to taking the interstate 475 bypass around Macon, one of you will need to move in front of the target while at the same time another of you needs to pull directly to the left of the target and pace it exactly. That will have it blocked front and side. There is a blue van following the truck and my silver Volvo SUV will be behind it. I need the third of you to move in behind my car. Several marked and unmarked police cars will be tight on your tail waiting so don't get concerned when you see them. Any questions so far?"

One of the truckers spoke up, "This is Bruce. I'll take the lead position in front of the target; Tony why don't you take the side and Stan you can take the rear. I understand we don't want to use cell phones during the operation itself, so let's plan on channel eight on our CB's so that it would be a quick flip if we needed to switch to channel nine for communicating with the police."

The other two truckers agreed with Bruce's suggestion as Sean continued, "We have two sections of I-475 that we want to try and use. The first is the section between exits five and nine and the second is between exits nine and fifteen. As soon as the target passes exit five, I will attempt to get in position for a shot to be made from the passenger side of my car aimed at the right rear tire of the blue van. If successful, the resulting flat tire will cause the van to pull over to the shoulder where upon the police following Stan will surround it and take the six occupants into custody. As soon as the blue van is separated from the target, we need to box it in and force it to stop, preferably along the shoulder, but in the right lane if necessary. Bruce will gradually slow to a stop, and with Tony blocking the next lane over, the target should have no choice but to stop as well. Bruce, if you see the target trying to pass you on the right, you will need to counter that move by sliding over and Tony will need to do likewise from the side. I will remain directly behind the target, trying to remain so close that I am in the driver's blind spot so that all he'll see behind him will be Stan's truck. Once we have the target stopped, I will secure the driver and anyone else in the cab, after which we open the back of the container to release the girls. Does this plan sound okay to you guys?"

The three truckers agreed with the plan as described. Kirby added a few more details, "There will be an Air Force copter dispatched from Warner-Robins within the next few minutes. The gunner has everyone's cell phone numbers and will send a group text when he sees the target truck passing exit 155. It will be positioned for its fifty millimeter gun to support the capture of the blue van first, and then will move up to cover the capture of the truck. How long do we anticipate before the bus and additional I.C.E. resources arrive to the location?"

Mickey checked the time on the dashboard clock before answering, "Now that we have an approximate location I can ask for a firmer ETA, but I would say right now that the bus should be on location within half an hour of the rescue if not sooner. Remember that it will be heading southbound, so unless there is a spot for it to cross the center median, it will need to go past to the first exit where it would have an opportunity to turn around and return."

"I'll check with the Georgia State Police to see where the median crossings are along the sections we are targeting and let you know," said Kirby.

"Great," said Sean. "If there are no more questions, Bruce, Stan and Tony need to get their trucks ready to roll as soon as you receive the text. If the target takes I-75 instead of I-475, continue to follow it and we'll regroup north of where the two highways meet up again near Forsyth. Good luck everyone."

Once the call ended Mickey wanted to voice a concern. She would have preferred to mention it just to Sean, but she couldn't justify asking Amanda for privacy at this point, although Sean would be exiting the highway soon to allow the target truck and blue van to get in front of them again.

"I am concerned about the idea of shooting out the back tire. When we passed the blue van earlier I looked at the angles and the location of the fuel tank leaves a very small target area to hit the tire."

Amanda heard this and added her own observation, "You will also need to be prepared to adjust for the wind velocity generated by shooting from a moving vehicle." Looking at the trees along the side of the road she continued, "Plus there is a slight cross wind from right to left with our current driving direction. If our direction changes then the cross wind will likely change as well."

Mickey was glad to have Amanda's contribution to her explanation of the challenges faced by trying to shoot out the tire as originally planned. The fact that it was Amanda's idea now being challenged made Mickey feel more confident in raising her concerns with Sean. Her confidence didn't last long.

"Maybe you should take the shot from the window back here," offered Amanda. "You wouldn't have the side mirror in the way and the wind directions would be more consistent because the window here is farther back from the windshield."

"Have you ever shot from a moving vehicle before?" Sean asked Amanda.

"Of course," said Amanda. "That's how we used to hunt wild rabbits on the ranch. My brother would drive the pickup truck and I would shoot them out of the bed of the truck or from the cab if the weather was nasty."

Turning to Mickey he asked, "What do you think about letting Amanda take the shot?"

Giving Amanda one more opportunity to impress Sean was not something that Mickey was inclined to accept, but she relented under the gaze of Sean. "Well, she does have the Olympic medals..."

Sean reached under his seat and removed the Smith & Wesson automatic pistol that he had clipped there. He handed it over the seat to Amanda and said, "Why don't you familiarize yourself with this and let me know if you think you can use it to hit the target?"

Amanda took the pistol and examined it. "This is pretty light. You don't see many automatics without a safety." She released the magazine and cleared the chamber. "Eight shot magazine with one in the chamber and no safety? Sort of risky, isn't it Sean?"

"The best safety is a trained and responsible gun owner," said Sean.

Amanda thought he was being cavalier, especially since the pistol had simply been hidden under his car seat and not locked or secured in any fashion, but she decided not to mention that right now.

"I would prefer a longer barrel and the light weight will be both a hindrance and a blessing, but I can make the shot with this," she said.

Frustrated, Mickey asked sarcastically, "Amanda, were you Prom Queen in high school?"

Recognizing the attempted jab, Amanda didn't ignore it. "I was home schooled until I left to attend Charles Darwin University when I was sixteen. I was never Prom Queen, but I was Miss Teen Australia when I was seventeen."

"Is it common for students to start university at sixteen in Australia?" asked Sean. Mickey didn't want to hear the answer, sensing it would go against her like everything else about Amanda had so far.

"It's not common," said Amanda, "but it's not entirely unheard of. I think most students start university when they are seventeen or eighteen. I actually started taking my university level courses via correspondence when I was fourteen because my parents didn't want me living on campus until I was at least sixteen."

The ringing of Sean's cell phone interrupted the conversation about Amanda's education. "Sean Wallace," he answered.

"Sean, this is Maureen. Have you got a minute?"

"Sure Moe. What's up?" He had just taken an off ramp and pulled onto the shoulder of the on ramp that would allow him to pull in behind the blue van once it passed them on the highway.

"I wanted to let you know that Mark Morris is pushing me for details on the flight arrangements I made for Mr. Parker. I told him that I didn't know the reason behind your request, how you knew Glenn Parker, or any other details about the circumstances leading up to your request but I don't think he believed me. He threatened that Tom Folsom would fire me by the end of the day unless I cooperated with him and told him what he wanted to know. I wanted you to know in case he has my phone and system access shut down and you needed to get in touch with me. Do you still have my home and personal cell numbers?"

"Yes Moe I have them, but you will not be fired. Trust me." Turning to Amanda he said, "Do you mind if I handle this for now?"

With a grin she said, "Please do."

"Okay Moe, here's what I want you to do. I want you to go home. I will contact you there if I need anything, but you don't need the stress or aggravation right now. You will be hearing from either Amanda or myself when we want you back in the office."

"Okay Sean, and I so look forward to meeting Amanda. I'll try not to embarrass you too badly when I turn you over my knee for not telling me you had gotten married." Hearing Amanda laughing made Maureen add, "Is that you Mrs. Wallace?"

"Hi Moe, please call me Amanda.

"Of course Amanda. As with Sean, if there is anything I can ever do for you, please let me know."

"Just go home for now, but to add to what Sean said, please keep us posted if you hear anything from other employees that you feel we should know about."

"Thank you Amanda, thank you Sean. Bye."

As soon as the call ended, Sean initiated a new one using voice command, "Call Brian Hibbert."

The sound of the phone ringing was short as Brian answered almost immediately, "IT, Brian speaking."

"Brian, this is Sean Wallace. Amanda is here with me and we wanted to thank you for jumping on her request so quickly."

"It is my pleasure Sean. The cell phone is ready and the laptop should be finished loading the image within the hour. You still want them to go to the hotel as Amanda instructed?"

"Yes, that will be fine. The reason I'm calling now is related to Amanda mentioning some additional IT projects that we would need your assistance with. You do have full system admin rights for all of Wallace Enterprises don't you?"

"I do. What do you need?

"Write down these three names; Tom Folsom, Mark Morris, and either Kimberly Morris or DuPont. I'm not sure how she may be setup in the system."

"I do," said Brian. "She's setup as 'Kimberly Morris'."

"Okay," said Sean. "We want you to restrict the system access for all three of these employees immediately. No more access to any servers, applications or accounts other than corporate e-mail and we want that restricted to them only being able to send and receive e-mails from either myself or Amanda. Can you do that?"

"You don't want me to just delete their user ID's completely?" asked Brian.

"No, I don't want them terminated yet, I just want them to get the message that they are being put on a very short leash for the time being. Understand? Also make sure that no one else in the organization with system admin rights such as yours will be able to change things once you have restricted their access. Is that possible?"

"That would only be possible if I first went in and changed everyone else with system administration rights to restrict their ability to make changes. I can do that, but it leaves me as the sole master system administrator. I have an idea! Just in case something happens to me, like I get hit by a bus or something, I can setup Amanda and you with the same system administrator rights as me. That way if it ever became necessary, one of you would be able to assign rights to others."

Sean looked at Amanda and she nodded. "That's fine for a short-term solution, but I would like your ideas on a more secure administration protocol going forward. I have a friend who works at Brandt Consulting. I'll send you his contact information so you can bring them in for an analysis and their suggestions."

"Sounds good," said Brian. "I'll get on it right now. The restrictions will be in place within half an hour."

"Thanks, and Brian you may get some pushback and even some threats about this. Know that you are bulletproof on this because Amanda and I have you covered. Got it?"

"I never doubted that Sean. Holler if you need anything else." The call was disconnected.

Mickey tapped Sean on the shoulder and pointed to the target truck and blue van which had just passed the on ramp they were sitting on. Sean accelerated and moved back onto the highway about a quarter mile behind their targets. Only two more exits before the split of interstates 75 and 475. The three blocking trucks should be coming on at the next on-ramp if the Air Force helicopter sends the promised text.

***

"Sheriff Smith."

"Hello Sheriff, this is Tom Folsom."

"What can I do for you Tom?"

"Sheriff, have you heard anything from the film company crew that is in your area today?"

"No, and I wouldn't expect to. Why do you ask?"

Folsom considered his response. "Do you know of any reason why Glenn Parker would be returning this afternoon on a private jet, landing in Bainbridge around two hours from now?"

Sheriff Morgan Smith thought for a minute and said, "I have no idea. He told me that he would be gone until Friday, and today is only Wednesday. How did you hear about this?"

"Sean Wallace called his secretary and asked her to make the flight arrangements for Parker."

"Why would Wallace do that?" asked Smith.

"Could Wallace have stumbled upon what was going on at Parker's cabin?" asked Folsom.

"Their cabins are pretty far apart for Wallace to hear any screams or anything, so I don't think it's likely."

"The girl chosen to act in the movie was supposed to be untraceable, right?"

"That's what we were told," confirmed Smith.

"Well Sheriff, you may want to check out the progress of the movie and make certain that the production is shut down before Parker gets home."

"I can't send one of my deputies and that cabin is clear on the other side of the county. It will take me at least two hours to drive there from where I am."




Heavy Traffic Ch. 04



"Have a nice trip," Folsom said as he hung up.

Sheriff Morgan Smith wanted to avoid the drive if possible. He had another idea.

***

"Anderson."

"Special Agent Anderson, this is Rick Acosta with Brandt Consulting. I understand that you are leading the investigation into the human trafficking case we are assisting with down here in Seminole County."

"That's correct Mr. Acosta. What can I do for you?"

"Call me Rick. I don't know if you're aware of it, but all National Park Service vehicles are equipped with signal boosters because they are often in remote areas with little or no cellular service. These boosters increase the signal strength for any cell phones in the proximity of the NPS vehicle. There was a cell phone left in the van driven by the three suspects here. A call just came into that phone that I thought you might be interested in. We didn't answer the call but we did make a note of the caller ID so I can provide you with the number of the person who called it."

"Great work Rick. Give me the number of the caller as well as the number on the cell phone left in the van." She wrote them both down, thanked Rick Acosta again and then placed another call. When she reached the Atlanta offices for Immigration and Customs Enforcement she could hardly contain her excitement.

Forcing herself to relax and relay professional instructions, she began, "I need an immediate list of all calls made to or from the following cell phone number within the last twenty four hours." She read the number of the cell phone. "I also need to know who the following number belongs to, and once you have that, I want a list of all calls for that phone as well. Call me as soon as you have the information."

Sean heard the tone from his cell phone indicating a text message. Glancing at the phone quickly he saw that the Air Force helicopter was notifying everyone involved that the target truck and blue van had passed exit 155. Sean was just passing the same exit and saw the three trucks rolling down the on-ramp as planned. He watched ahead as the target truck and blue van moved to the left, positioning them for the transition to interstate 475.



Heavy Traffic Ch. 05



Late morning traffic on interstate 475 in the middle of the week consisted of more semis than cars which was a dual-edged sword as Sean saw it. It made the presence of his three trucks less obvious, but made his vehicle as well as any police vehicles stick out much more than he would have liked. A passenger vehicle that purposely stayed in the right lane following slower moving trucks rather than passing them was hard not to notice.

Sean turned on his emergency flashers, hoping that anyone who saw him remaining in the right lane traveling slower than expected would assume he was having some sort of mechanical issues with his car. It was the best he could do as subterfuge under the circumstances.

By the time the target truck had reached exit 3 on Interstate 475, Bruce had pulled beside it and was slowly passing it in the middle lane. Tony was driving the truck right behind Bruce and Sean saw Stan holding position directly behind his own car. As the convoy that was forming passed the on ramp for exit 3, Sean saw five or six assorted police vehicles entering the highway and falling into place behind Stan's truck.

"Mickey, do you see the Air Force copter out there on your side anywhere?" Sean asked.

Mickey stared out her side window and said, "The trees are blocking my view of the horizon but when there is a break in the tree line I'll try to spot them. I assume they are staying low and a bit behind us to avoid detection."

"Okay," said Sean. "Amanda, are you ready to take your shot?"

"I'm ready Sean, just don't expect me to cook what I shoot."

Mickey rolled her eyes as Sean laughed at Amanda's comment.

Amanda rolled her window down. "Mickey, could I borrow your sunglasses to help keep the wind out of my eyes?"

Mickey took her sunglasses off and passed them back to Amanda without verbally responding. Amanda put them on and verified again that there was a bullet in the chamber of the pistol.

"Sean, could you keep me apprised of your speed as we get to the point where you want me to take the shot?" Amanda asked.

"The bridge up ahead is exit 5," said Sean. "Once we pass that, you will be free to take your shot whenever you are ready. Speed is holding constant at sixty miles per hour."

As they passed under the bridge, Amanda used the change from light to shadow to light as an opportunity to drop her right hand out the side window so that the pistol was resting against the side of her door. The blue van had just passed the end of the merge lane for the exit 5 on ramp when Amanda raised the pistol and fired a single shot directly into its right rear tire. Before the tire had flattened to the point where the occupants of the van would realize it, she had pulled her hand with the pistol back into the car and was rolling her window back up.

"Great shot!" said Sean. Mickey had a look of amazement on her face and simply nodded at Sean's praise for Amanda.

The blue van began slowing and moving onto the right shoulder. Sean slowed to make certain that the van was stopping before finally passing it on the left, followed by Stan. Amanda handed the sunglasses back to Mickey then turned in her seat and watched as more than ten police cars quickly surrounded the blue van and an Air Force helicopter hovered just over the trees with its side door open and a manned machine gun aimed at the occupants of the van.

"They've got them," she told Sean and Mickey.

"Time for part two," said Sean. "Mickey, are you ready to back me up at the truck?"

"Ready," said Mickey, happy to finally get a chance to contribute something that Amanda couldn't.

Sean sped up and positioned his vehicle less than ten feet from the rear bumper of the target truck. He was trusting in the old adage "If you can't see my mirrors, I can't see you." The truck began to slow almost immediately as Bruce reduced speed in front of it. Tony stayed glued to the left side of the truck, just far enough back so that the driver could not look into his cab. Stan had moved up behind Sean so that the only thing the driver of the target truck would be able to see were the three trucks boxing him in. The target truck started sliding over to the right shoulder, but he continued to slow, indicating that he was resigned to stopping rather than trying to get around the blockade.

When the target truck finally came to a stop, Sean placed the front bumper of his SUV tight against the rear of the truck. He thought they would need the hood of his car to make accessing the four foot high truck bed easier.

Mickey was out of her door before Sean had placed the car into park. She ran to the right of the truck to cover the passenger door of the cab. Amanda saw this and realized that Sean was left uncovered and unarmed as he headed for the driver side door. She quickly slid across the back seat and exited on the left side of the SUV, following behind Sean. The Air Force helicopter was quickly getting in position over the trees behind Mickey, but it would not be able to support Sean with the entire truck between him and the gunner.

Sean stayed close to the side of the truck as he continued towards the driver's door. He saw the driver watching him approach in his side mirror, but making no effort to get out of the cab. When Sean was about five feet from the cab, the door swung open and the driver lowered his left leg to the first rung of the ladder along the side of the cab. His hands were still not visible, and this is where Amanda was focused. As the driver swung around so that he could place his right foot onto the next ladder rung, his right hand grabbed a hand grip beside the door. His left hand was hidden by his body as he continued to lower himself out of the cab.

Amanda had stopped along the side of Tony's truck, about half way between the cab and the back of the attached trailer. She was about twenty five feet from where the driver would be standing once he finished climbing out of the cab and with a perfect angle in case she needed to cover Sean. Finally reaching the ground with both feet, the driver turned towards Sean and his left hand came into full view. It held only a ring of keys.

"I guess you'll be wanting to get into the back," he said to Sean as he tossed him the keys. He then looked at Amanda and raised his hands. At that moment, Mickey came around the front of the cab and saw Amanda covering the driver.

She quickly removed handcuffs from her belt and placed them on the driver. Sean took the driver by his elbow and led him back to his SUV. He placed him in the back seat, closed and locked the door.

Turning to Mickey he said, "As soon as you get a signal on your cell phone again, please get an ETA on the bus and your agents." Looking to Amanda he said, "Thanks for covering me."

Amanda smiled and handed him his pistol. "Let's get the girls, shall we?"

Sean climbed up onto the hood of his car and then helped Amanda up beside him. He found the key to the lock, released it and removed it from the handle. He had to step back further onto his hood as the huge door swung open. The dark interior of the container grew gradually lighter as the door continued opening. The twenty five young girls were cowered at the very front of the container with the older girls obviously sheltering the younger ones behind them. Before their eyes could adjust to the bright light Amanda was yelling in to them in Portuguese, "Amanda está aqui para você. Você está segura." She then repeated the same message in English, "Amanda is here for you. You are safe."

"Amanda?" came a small frightened voice, followed by a second then a third and finally a chorus of little girl voices shouting her name as they moved toward the open door at the back of the truck. The girls were still wearing their tropical school uniforms which consisted of baggy cotton shorts that came to their knees, button up cotton blouses with a pocket above the left breast, and canvas loafers for shoes. Their clothes were dirty but still fully functional and adequate for the warm morning temperatures in Central Georgia.

Sean helped Amanda climb into the back of the container just as the first girl reached them. Amanda was soon swarmed by all of the girls trying to hug her and be hugged in return. She spend several minutes trying to comfort each of the girls, assuring them that they were safe in America and would be taken care of.

She introduced them to Sean and Mickey and then started leading them one by one over to the edge of the container where Sean could lift them down and pass them over to Mickey on the side of his hood. Before he had helped three of the youngest girls down, he was joined on his hood by a trucker - either Bruce or Tony, and Mickey was joined by the other two truckers helping to corral the girls safely along the shoulder of the highway.

Mickey's cell phone rang and she paused to answer it. "Hello. Yes Kirby, everything went as planned. We're getting the girls out of the truck right now so Sean will call you back in a couple of minutes. Right, bye... and thanks."

Looking up at Sean she said, "You left your cell phone in your car. Kirby wanted an update. You'll need to call him once all the girls are off the truck."

"He can wait," said Sean as he received a kiss on his cheek from the next girl he handed down to Mickey.

Amanda handed the last girl to Sean and then hopped down on her own. Addressing the three truck drivers who had helped them she asked, "Do any of you happen to have some bottled water? These girls could really use some fresh water to drink."

The tallest of the three said, "I'm Stan by the way, and as long as my boss doesn't mind I have 72 cases of bottled water in the back of my truck that I would love to share with these young ladies."

Sean laughed as he jumped down from the hood of his car and shook Stan's hand. "I can guarantee that your boss will be fine with you sharing anything on any of your trucks with these young ladies." Turning to Bruce and Tony, "The same goes for you two." He shook their hands and each introduced himself. Bruce was older with graying blonde hair while Tony's Italian heritage was obvious in his dark hair and olive complexion.

Bruce said, "My load is all sporting goods."

"I'm running empty this leg," said Tony.

"Well it looks like Uncle Stan's Roadside Emporium is open for business," Stan chuckled. "Come on Bruce, Tony. Help me get water and some snacks for these lovely ladies."

"I'll meet you at your truck," said Tony as he headed to the cab of his own truck. He pulled his truck to the right shoulder in front of Bruce's and then returned a few minutes later with several heavy moving blankets and started laying them in the shade along the tree line off the shoulder of the road.

When Amanda saw this, she went over to help Tony and was soon joined by several of the older girls. The rest of the girls instinctively followed and soon all of them were sitting on blankets in the shade as far from the roadway as circumstances would allow.

While Tony headed to join Bruce and Stan to unload water and snacks from Stan's truck, Mickey made calls on her cell phone to update her teams on their location and to get updates on their ETA.

Sean had returned to his car to hand the driver of the truck over to a Georgia State Policeman who replaced Mickey's handcuffs with his own and handed the original ones to Sean. He put them in his back pocket until he could return them to Mickey. Traffic was beginning to flow in the left two lanes of the freeway, but the police kept the right lane and shoulder blocked for safety. Cars moved slowly past as their drivers craned to see what the activity was along the side of the roadway.

Three EMT units arrived within minutes and the crews hurried over to the spot where the girls were all sitting with Amanda. Amanda had already examined half of the girls for injuries and speaking to them in either Portuguese or Tetum Dili, asked them if they were hurt or ill. So far hunger and thirst were the only consistent complaint, but there were a few scrapes and cuts that needed cleaning and bandages, and she pointed these girls out to the EMT's. Amanda pulled the two female EMT's aside and explained that at least three of the older girls had menstrual bleeding and asked if they could take them to the back of one of the ambulances to assist them with cleaning up and providing them with sanitary napkins. When they agreed, Amanda explained this to the three girls and they willingly followed the EMT's to the ambulance.

Sean came over to check on the situation with the girls before he called his Uncle Kirby to provide him an update. As he reached the edge of the blankets, one of the littlest girls jumped up and wrapped her arms around one of his legs.

Amanda saw this and said, "That's Ree. I think she likes you."

Stan, Bruce and Tony had arrived with bottles of water and packages of cookies. Sean took one of each and squatted down in front of Ree. He unscrewed the top of the water bottle and handed it to her. While she guzzled the water, he opened the cookie package for her. Ree handed Sean the empty bottle and he handed her the cookies in return. Bruce handed him another bottle of water which he unscrewed in preparation for Ree wanting more to drink.

Mickey walked up to Sean and said, "The bus is about five minutes out. They'll take exit five from the southbound lanes and then head back north and park in front of the first truck."

Amanda had heard this and came over to join Mickey and Sean. Mickey looked at Amanda and continued, "We should get the girls on the bus as soon as possible. It's about a two hour drive from here to the hotel and there's nothing that needs to be processed with them that can't wait until they have had a chance to get cleaned up and rested."

"Do any of your people speak Portuguese or Tetum Dili?" asked Amanda.

"I requested at least one agent fluent in Portuguese," said Mickey. "We'll have to wait and see once the bus gets here."

Mickey's cell phone rang again so she stepped away from Sean and Amanda to answer it. "Are you okay?" Sean asked Amanda. "I need to go call Kirby and give him an update." 

"I'm good. Please thank your uncle for me."

"Will do," said Sean. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

As he walked back to his car, Sean pulled Mickey's handcuffs from his back pocket and handed them to her as he passed. He climbed into the driver's seat of his car and called his uncle.

"Congratulations Sean," said Kirby. "I hear everything went like clockwork."

"Surprise definitely worked in our favor," said Sean. "We all appreciate your guidance and assistance Uncle Kirby."

"Don't mention it. What are your plans now?"

"We are going to get the girls settled in the hotel before anything else. I'm not sure what more I am going to be able to do to assist Mickey with her continuing investigation, but I want to hang around and support Amanda as much as possible. You should have seen the shot she made to take out the tire on the blue van. I can see why she medaled in the Olympics."

"Amanda medaled in the Olympics?" asked Kirby.

"The lady is full of surprises," said Sean. "You'll have to meet her someday to see for yourself."

"I'd like that. Let me know if I can do anything further for you. Bye."

"Bye Uncle Kirby."

***

"Nina, is your network connection working on your computer?" asked Mark Morris.

"Yes Mr. Morris. I'm on the SharePoint portal right now."

"Okay, thanks. I'll call IT to see what's wrong with my computer." He went back into his office, picked up his phone and dialed an extension from memory.

"IT, Ron speaking."

"Ron, this is Mark Morris. I am unable to access multiple servers and applications on my computer. Do you have a minute to check it out for me?"

"Sure, hold on a minute." Morris heard the tapping of a keyboard on the other end of the phone. "Mr. Morris, your access has been restricted. You only have access to corporate e-mail, and then only to send and receive from two specific accounts."

Morris was confused but thought his next question might provide at least some insight into what was going on. "What two e-mail accounts can I send and receive from?"

"Sean Wallace and Amanda Wallace."

"Can you restore my access?"

"I should be able to. Let me try." Morris once again heard Ron on his keyboard. "Mr. Morris, my system administrator rights have been restricted. I can't modify anyone else's rights."

"Are you able to tell me who has the rights to restore my access?" asked Morris.

"Just a second. Right now, only master system administrators have rights to modify user access levels. I only see three master system administrators listed; Brian Hibbert, Sean Wallace and Amanda Wallace."

"Crap," thought Morris. "Thanks Ron. I'll give Brian a call."

Morris wasn't about to call Brian Hibbert. He was going to leave that task to Tom Folsom. He dialed Folsom's cell phone.

"What now Mark?" answered Folsom.

"Have you tried logging onto any system sites lately?"

"No, why?"

"I'm just curious if I am the only one that has had his access restricted," said Morris.

"What are you talking about?" asked Folsom.

"My system access has been restricted. I only have access to send and receive e-mails with Sean or Amanda Wallace. Other than that, I am locked out."

"So have IT restore your access," said Folsom.

"I tried, but apparently only three people now have the necessary rights required to modify user access permissions; Brian Hibbert, Sean Wallace, and Amanda Wallace."

"Hold on," said Folsom. "Let me conference Hibbert in on our call."

Folsom initiated a conference call. He and Morris listened waiting for Brian Hibbert to answer.

"IT, Brian speaking."

"Brian, this is Tom Folsom. I have Mark Morris on the phone with us as well. Mark is telling me that his system access has been restricted and I'd like you to remedy that situation as soon as possible."

"I'm sorry, but I cannot do that," said Brian.

"You can if you want to continue working for me," said Folsom.

"Mr. Folsom, I have never worked for you," said Brian. "I work for Wallace Enterprises, which is owned by Sean Wallace. Mr. and Mrs. Wallace have already warned me that you might try threatening me with termination and have assured me that I am safely in their employ. Now is there something further that I can do for you?"

"Did Wallace instruct you to restrict Mark Morris' system access?" demanded Folsom.

"I suggest that you discuss that with Mr. or Mrs. Wallace. Good day."

Folsom and Morris were left on the call without Brian once he hung up.

"You should check your access," said Morris.

"I will, and then I'll call you back. Have you heard from Kimberly yet?"

"Not yet. I'll try her in her office and update you when you call back."

"Okay, talk to you in a few minutes."

Folsom hung up and turned on his laptop while Morris hung up and tried to reach his wife. Five minutes later they were back on the phone together.

"My access appears to be restricted the same as yours," said Folsom.

"I got ahold of Kimberly and the reason she hadn't called me back is because she has been trying to figure out why her system access was restricted," confirmed Morris.

"So the heads of each division as well as all but one IT system administrator have had their rights restricted," said Folsom. "Do we know of anyone else who has been affected?"

"I haven't heard of anyone else yet, but with my e-mail access being restricted I might be missing messages about others."

Folsom checked the time and then said, "Bryce Pierre is probably at lunch right now. I'll try to arrange a conference call for us at 3pm. Is that time good for you?"

"I'll make it work. Do you want me to tell Kimberly or do you want to?"

"She's your wife, so you can tell her. Talk to you at 3."




Heavy Traffic Ch. 05



***

Kimberly Morris didn't stress over her access rights being restricted. She trusted that Tom Folsom would get the issue resolved once Mark informed him that she had the same restrictions as they did. She trusted Tom Folsom explicitly, as she had demonstrated to him in every way she could imagine.

Kimberly had been devoted to, willingly dominated and controlled by Tom Folsom since she met him at the age of fourteen. When she had lost a bet on the price of a blouse to her friends, she had to accept their dare to kiss the first Black boy they encountered. The tall, athletic and extremely handsome seventeen year old Tom Folsom soon walked towards the food court in the mall where they were sitting. Kimberly was excited to fulfill the dare when she saw who her target would be. She had kissed several boys before, but the challenge of the dare was the fact that she would be kissing a Black boy in public.

Kimberly was at least seven inches shorter than Tom Folsom's six foot height. While her young body had not developed as early or as fully as some of her friends, she had learned how to use her attributes to her advantage where boys and men were concerned. Pretty, girl next door looks, with straight blonde hair falling to the middle of her back and all the charms a young southern debutante was expected to have, she was convinced that she would have no problem getting this boy to kiss her. She contemplated how passionate she wanted the kiss to be as a reward for him helping her complete her dare.

Approaching him from behind as he waited in line to order his food, Kimberly tapped Tom Folsom on his shoulder. When he turned around and looked down at her, she gazed into his intense eyes and knew immediately that everything she ever wanted in a boy stood right before her.

It amazes her to this day that she was able to form the words at the moment he looked at her, "Hi, when you have a minute, I was hoping you would help me with something."

Tom Folsom had stared at her for almost a full minute, examining her appearance, her expression and her confidence before grinning at her and saying, "What's in it for me if I help you?"

"You get to kiss me," Kimberly responded.

He studied her a few more seconds before asking, "What do I have to do to earn this kiss?" "Kiss me here in the mall, in front of anyone who cares to look at us."

She had loved and worshiped Tom Folsom from that first kiss. Leaving her friends at the mall, she had given him her virginity within two hours and never stopped submitting to his every request or desire.

Knowing that neither of their families would condone nor accept a mixed-race relationship, they had kept their attraction secret and taken efforts to hide their continuing relationship. Folsom orchestrated Kimberly's relationships with other boys to gain the greatest benefit for both of their futures. It was Folsom who had encouraged Kimberly to date Mark, while at the same time targeting Sean Wallace. While Mark didn't have the wealth of Sean, he did provide an easily manipulated partner who would be an acceptable mate to Kimberly's family.

She had willingly whored herself for him with numerous boys and men over the years. She thought back to two weeks ago when Folsom had six of his South American business associates draw numbers from a hat to see which order they would get to have their way with her. After servicing all six men individually, Folsom had offered her to them as a group for a gangbang. The time she and Tom had spent afterwards with her recounting her experience as she repeatedly satisfied Folsom's arousal had made the whole event worthwhile for her.

Although she loved Tom Folsom, making love with Sean Wallace had been so much better than the sex she had experienced with anyone else. Sean had made her feel safe, special and that her wants and desires really mattered to him. It still bothered her that Sean Wallace had dumped her. She knew that she should have been more discreet in maintaining a relationship with Mark at the same time she was engaged to Sean, but she honestly thought that her appeal to a man would overcome any objections either had to her sharing her time between them.

Now it appeared that Sean had recovered nicely from her betrayal and found another woman to marry him. It had been less than two years! How could any man have moved past her and found someone else in such a short time? Kimberly wanted to learn more about this Amanda Wallace to find out what she had that would allow a man to forget Kimberly DuPont so easily.

***

There were three I.C.E. agents on the bus fluent in Portuguese. One of these was send with the prisoners from the blue van and the other two were assigned to ride with the girls on the bus. Once the bus arrived, the immigration agents worked like a well-oiled machine to get all the girls boarded on the bus and eating box lunches within fifteen minutes.

Amanda found Sean and told him, "I'm going to ride on the bus with the girls. Are you coming directly to the hotel?"

"Yes, I'll probably beat the bus. Mickey is going to be riding on it with you so she can continue giving instructions to her team."

Throwing her arms around Sean, she hugged him with all her might and said, "I can't thank you enough for what you have done. You really are my knight in shining armor."

"I would do anything for Mrs. Wallace," he replied with a grin. The brief contact of her body against his resulted in a lingering heat that he didn't want to lose.

"You better be careful or I may hold you to that promise. See you at the hotel." She had to get away from him before she flew back into his arms and never let him go. She felt like a quivering mess. Her wits had been scattered. She couldn't understand how the feeling of Sean's body against hers had made her feel relaxed and ignited at the same time. Amanda turned and climbed the steps into the bus as Mickey walked up to Sean.

"I have some important new information that we need to discuss as soon as we get to the hotel," she told him. "I'll leave it up to you whether you want to include Amanda, but based upon the scheme that you two were pulling earlier, I recommend that she at least hear what I have found out."

Sean wasn't fully aware of Mickey speaking with him. His whole essence was still recovering from the feel of Amanda holding him. "Once we get the girls settled, why don't you me and Amanda find a place to get together and you can fill us in then?"

"Sounds good. See you at the hotel."

***

Sean was approaching McDonough, Georgia before he could drag his thoughts away from Amanda long enough to consider dealing with other matters. Ironically, it was a brief thought about him being able to call or text her anytime he wanted once Brian Hibbert provided her with her new cell phone that reminded him that he needed to call Kyle Mason. He gave the voice dial command to his hands free system and waited for the call to be connected.

"Kyle Mason." The sound of his good friend's voice brought a smile to Sean's face. "Kyle, this is Sean. Have you got a minute?"

"Hey Sean, thanks for getting Karen headed home early. I'm sorry that you couldn't come along with her. If I could find another instructor to test with for my belt, I wouldn't care, but it seems that no one else wants anything to do with your students." Kyle loved to tease Sean about his instructor status, both of them knowing that Kyle was prouder than he could ever express about the interest that Sean had taken in helping him progress with his training.

"I'm sure you could find someone qualified to test your skills at any YMCA," Sean teased back.

"Ouch!" chuckled Kyle. "So, seriously Sean, how have you been? Karen said you sounded rushed this morning. Is everything okay?" Kyle had married his childhood sweetheart nine months earlier at his Uncle's residence. The fact that Kyle's Uncle was the President of the United States naturally limited the invitations to the White House for the ceremony, and Sean had been honored to serve as one of the Groomsmen.

"Actually Kyle, things are looking up. However, I could use your help with a couple of things if you can fit me in. You're still drumming up business for Brandt Consulting, right?"

"Sure. What can I do for you Sean?"

Sean proceeded to fill Kyle in on his conversation with Brian Hibbert and the need for system-wide changes to the security of the Wallace Enterprises IT department. They discussed the breadth and depth of a proposed security audit and Sean gave Kyle the green light to have him get in touch with Brian Hibbert to get things moving as quickly as possible.

"I'll get one of my Project Managers assigned to this within the hour," Kyle informed Sean. "We'll start with getting all your system administration rights transferred to my team so that Brian is not in the middle of any further personnel changes that may be forthcoming as you weed out disloyal employees. Biomorph Research isn't included in this project correct?"

"Great idea," said Sean. "I trust Brian, but I'm sure he would appreciate not being placed into a position that might jeopardize any of his relationships with co-workers. I think you also need to immediately identify any back-door or hidden access holes that may have been introduced through this illegitimate management contract with Tri-Star Partners. Those need to be plugged before anything else begins. To answer your other question, Biomorph Research remains totally isolated from all my other operations."

"Without question," agreed Kyle. "What do you know about this Tri-Star Partners organization?"

"I'm not even supposed to know about them. There are a few loyal employees who have been trying to keep me informed, but they haven't been directly involved in the arrangements, so the details have been sketchy so far. I had planned on making a surprise visit to my office tomorrow in an attempt to get the full story, but that's up in the air right now."

Kyle offered, "Let me get someone on my team researching them this afternoon. I should have something for you by the end of the day that will better prepare you for what you might find once you get to your office."

"Thanks," said Sean. "You still have my contact information?"

"Everything except a mailing address. Karen said that our thank you card for your wedding gift was returned by the post office."

"Let me guess," moaned Sean, "She mailed it to my office address, right?"

"Probably," agreed Kyle.

"Now we both have a better idea of the potential situation. If the company owner can't receive mail at his own office, imagine what the computer systems might hold for your team."

Kyle sympathized with his friend, "I understand. Hopefully you still have a few people left that you can trust."

"I have a few," offered Sean. "There is one person in particular. She doesn't really work for me, but she has done more to support me and my organization in one day than anyone else has done in years of employment." Sean wasn't sure how much about Amanda he felt comfortable sharing. For all he knew, she might have plans once the girls were safe which had nothing to do with him.

"Really?" prodded Kyle. "Is this finally a replacement for that back-stabbing gold digger that you dumped?"

"Time will tell."

***

Dark clouds promising afternoon rain and thunderstorms had been on the horizon during the entire trip to the hotel. Mickey had introduced Amanda to her team of agents, and Amanda had then introduced each of them to the girls on the bus. Mickey explained to Amanda what the typical immigration processing would entail for the girls and they discussed options for the long-term care of them in the United States without either of them even considering the return of the girls to the orphanage. Sprinkles were just beginning to fall as the girls were hustled off the bus and into the lobby of the hotel. Thunder could be heard in the distance.

The hotel had designated the entire top third floor for the Wallace party. Amanda translated the room assignments and pairing of girls as Mickey and her team received them from the front desk staff. Mickey had one of her agents assigned a room to support four rooms of girls each. It took just under half an hour for all the girls and agents to be headed to their rooms, leaving Amanda and Mickey as the last two to be assigned rooms.

Mickey spoke to the front desk agent, "What room do you have assigned for Mr. Wallace?" Checking her computer, the agent replied, "Mr. Wallace has already checked into a suite on the third floor, room 301."

"Is there an adjoining room to his suite?" asked Mickey.

"Yes, room 303 has an adjoining door to suite 301."

"Then please assign me room 303," said Mickey as she smile at Amanda.

"It would be my pleasure," said the agent as she handed Mickey the key to room 303. Turning to Amanda, the agent asked, "Do you have a room preference?"

"My name is Amanda Wallace and I'll just need an extra key to Mr. Wallace's suite."

The agent didn't see the scowl on Mickey's face as she said, "Of course Mrs. Wallace, here you go. You also have a package that was delivered for you."

She handed Amanda a box with a label indicating it was from Brian Hibbert. Amanda took the proffered room key and said to Mickey, "I don't know about you, but I'm going to freshen up some." She headed for the elevator and a resigned Mickey followed in her wake.

Amanda went to the door for room 301 and inserted her key card as she watched Mickey entering room 303. When she opened the door, Sean jumped up from the sofa in surprise but Amanda putting her finger to her lips silenced him.

"Since Mark Morris arranged for the rooms, I thought that we ought to keep up the pretense of us being married in case he checked with the hotel on our sleeping arrangements," she told Sean. "I'll sleep on the sofa if you're concerned about your virtue," she added with a grin.

"Good idea. I mean about maintaining the pretense, not you sleeping on the sofa."

Amanda walked into the room and placed the box from Brian Hibbert onto the dining table in the room. "If you give me a minute to freshen up, you can knock on the door to the adjoining room and ask Mickey to join us. She is anxious to share her news with you. "

Walking towards the bathroom she added, "Actually, she is anxious to share a lot more than her news with you, but I think you know that."

Sean grinned and shook his head, "I'll wait for you if that's okay."

"Would you mind unboxing the package from Brian while I powder my nose?" she asked.

"Consider it done," he replied.

***

In the room next door, Mickey Anderson's cell phone rang. "Anderson," she answered.

"Special Agent Anderson, this is Rick Acosta. We have a Seminole County Sheriff vehicle approaching the turn off from highway 97 to the Parker cabin. How would you like us to proceed?"

"My understanding is that the road to the cabin is a dead end," she said. "Is that correct?" 

"Yes Mam. There are no outlets from the highway all the way to the cabin."

"Let it head to the cabin if that is its destination, but then block its exit until you hear from me. You are federal officers operating under a designated national security finding. Make certain that the locals understand your authority over them if necessary."

"Understood and your instructions are acknowledged," Acosta said as he disconnected the call.

The radio in his truck announced that the Sheriff's vehicle had indeed taken the turn onto the drive heading for the Parker cabin. He instructed his people at the road to block the entrance to the drive so that no vehicles could exit and then he gathered his other team members still at the cabin and updated them on their instructions.

***

Amanda returned from the bathroom and went directly to the table where Sean had laid out the computer and cell phone from Brian. There was a designer leather messenger bag beside her chair which appeared to hold several user manuals and accessories.

"Do you know the password for the Wi-Fi here at the hotel?" she asked.

Sean picked up the placard sitting on the bedside table with instructions on connecting to the hotel network and handed it to Amanda as he went to the adjoining room door to answer the knock they had just heard.

When Mickey entered their room, she seemed placated when she saw Amanda sitting alone at the table, with no obvious evidence that the one king-sized bed or other areas of the room had seen any action between the two occupants.

"Is now a good time for an update?" Mickey asked.

"Fine with me," said Sean.

"I can listen as I do this," said Amanda as she booted her new computer and began logging onto the internet.

Mickey took a seat at one of the side chairs in the room while Sean took one of the chairs at the table with Amanda. This purposeful action to place himself closer to Amanda than Mickey wasn't lost on either woman.

Mickey began her update. "When it comes to human trafficking, we can draw similarities to other established business practices. There is typically a 'production' component, where the product is generated, and in the case of human trafficking, this is usually the traders who capture the people as was the case with Amanda and the girls. The 'product' is then sold to a distributor who represents the traders in getting their products to market. The 'distributor' will typically cover a geographic region and the traders will often have multiple distributors that they supply product to.

"So far this seems very similar to my Marketing 101 course," said Sean.

"For all intents and purposes, it is almost identical," replied Mickey. "The distributors recruit dealers, which in the case of human trafficking the dealers are typically specialists. Some deal only with children of one gender or the other, but seldom both. Others deal with slave labor, prostitution, or some other market segment."

"I assume that identifying the distribution channel helps your team with identifying the various dealers and maybe even the production side of an operation," said Sean.

"It usually does," agreed Mickey. "In this case, our initial information on the distributor is troubling though."

"How so?" asked Sean.

"Because it appears to be you," said Mickey.



Heavy Traffic Ch. 06



Sheriff Morgan Smith was perturbed that his attempts to contact the men making the movie were unsuccessful, but he wasn't entirely surprised. The lack of cellular signals throughout large portions of his county was something he and his staff dealt with every day.

As he made the turn onto the road leading to Glenn Parker's cabin, Sheriff Morgan started imagining the positive aspects of him needing to communicate with the men in person. While he had no interest in watching the girl die at the end of the movie, the opportunity to witness some of the sex scenes prior to that could be enjoyable.

The stolen van was obvious as Smith drove up to the cabin. Unfortunately, the half dozen National Park Police vehicles surrounding the cabin were even more obvious. Smith pulled into the clearing for the cabin and surveyed his surroundings. Armed Park Rangers were entering and exiting the cabin as Smith parked his car and stepped out.

"What's going on here?" barked Smith.

He suddenly found more than a dozen handguns and at least five automatic rifles pointing directly at him.

"Place your hands on top of your head and make no further moves," said one of the Park Rangers.

"Fuck you," said Smith. "I am Sheriff of this county and I demand to know what is going on here in my jurisdiction."

"Have it your way," came the reply as six Park Rangers proceeded to tackle Smith to the ground, disarm him and secure his hands behind his back in handcuffs.

"How dare you!" screamed Smith.

Leaving Smith face down in the dirt outside the cabin, Rick Acosta spoke to the back of his head, "You are interfering with a National Security event. The FBI will be here shortly to interrogate you and determine what your role will or will not be. Rest assured that you will not pose a threat to any of my men or be provided with any further information until your authorization level has been established and verified."

Acosta and one other of his team helped Smith to his feet. Patting him down to make certain he had no additional weapons, Acosta found Smith's cell phone in his shirt pocket. He removed it and placed it in his own pocket.

"Now, I suggest that you allow us to place you in the back seat of your vehicle until the FBI arrives, or you can remain where you are. It's your choice."

Smith didn't resist, but he didn't go quietly either, "If my department doesn't hear from me this whole county will be swarming with deputies and others searching for me."

"Not likely," said Acosta. "United States Marshals have already assumed jurisdiction for your department and your deputies are currently being relieved of duty until each one is cleared of complicity in the National Security event that brings us all together."

"You keep mentioning a National Security event. What exactly is this event?" asked Smith. 

"It relates to criminal acts by foreign citizens on American soil and the treasonous acts of those U.S. citizens who assisted them."

Smith paled at this revelation. He looked at the cabin through the side window of his car and remembered the heavily accented voices of the man he had spoken to earlier.

***

Amanda stopped what she was doing and gave the conversation between Sean and Mickey her full attention.

"Me?" asked Sean.

Mickey joined them at the table, placed a hand on Sean's arm and said, "Not you personally, but it appears that your company or at least some of your employees are involved. The cell phone left by the men who you rescued Amanda from was called a little while ago by a cell phone belonging to the Seminole County Sheriff, but this call was placed immediately after a call to his phone from a cell phone registered to Wallace Enterprises."

"If we have the number, Brian Hibbert could tell us who is assigned that phone," said Sean.

"We have already determined who the number is assigned to," answered Mickey. "It is someone I have heard you and Amanda mention a couple of times today - Tom Folsom."

Sean and Amanda looked at each other. Mickey continued, "The call from the Sheriff was not answered so a car was apparently dispatched to check out the cabin where Amanda was taken. That vehicle is now in federal custody until the FBI has a chance to interrogate the driver and determine why it was sent to the cabin. Our suspicion is that something or someone tipped off our operation to rescue the girls and Folsom wanted to check the situation with Amanda."

"Or they found out that Glenn Parker was returning early and wanted to make sure that the cabin was cleared out prior to his return," said Sean. "Moe told me and Amanda that she has been questioned about her making the arrangements for Glenn's flight."

"I agree with Sean," said Amanda. "Everything we have heard so far indicates that learning of Glenn Parker's return early must be the catalyst to the Sheriff sending someone to the cabin."

"That makes sense," said Mickey, "but I'm increasing security here for the girls just in case. No one will get into the parking lot, let alone the lobby of this hotel unless they are a registered guest with a valid room key."

"I'm fine with that," said Sean. "If I need to close the property down and relocate all paying guests I will do it. It stands to reason that at some point when the truck fails to arrive at its destination someone will start wondering what happened to it. Based upon the concerns of Uncle Kirby about how connected these people seem to be in order to arrange for this operation, it might not take them long to learn that the shipment has been taken, and by who."

"I need to leave in a few minutes to join the interrogation of the traders," said Mickey.

"Where are they being held?" asked Sean.

"We have them at our detention facility at Hartsfield-Jackson Airport. Want to join me Sean?" Mickey hoped that using his name would make her invitation clearly exclusive to Sean, and Amanda easily picked up on the message.

"While you two are busy with the interrogation, I would like to try and get some clothes and other things arranged for the girls," said Amanda. "I also need to contact my attorney and let him know my situation."

"Give us your new cell number," said Sean. "We'll keep you posted on our progress." Amanda read the number off to both of them and they entered it into their respective phone directories. Sean and Mickey rose to leave and Amanda stopped them.

"Can I have both of your numbers to put into my phone?" Sean smiled and recited his number, and Mickey followed with hers.

Amanda gave Mickey a hug and said "Thank you Mickey for everything you have done."

Mickey was surprised, but hugged her back and simply nodded. Turning to Sean she said, "I'll meet you in the hall." She then went back into her room, closing the adjoining door on her way.

As Sean approached the door leading from their room to the hallway, Amanda started to give him a hug, but then stopped. She still hadn't fully recovered from the effects that her earlier physical contact with him had caused and she didn't want to compound her confusion until she had an opportunity to analyze things further. "Do you want me to pick anything up for you while I am shopping for the girls?"

Noticing her hesitancy with a degree of relief mixed with disappointment, Sean smiled at her and shook his head. "I'm set, but thanks for asking. How are you planning to do this shopping? On-line?"

"Not if I can help it. Not that I don't have confidence in Mr. Talbot from the Embassy, but I'll start by contacting Jeremy Thorndike and let him start making arrangements for a car and driver to be available to me today. He can also handle the funding of any purchases I need to make until I receive my replacement passport and credit card."

Sean surprised Amanda with a kiss on the cheek and said, "Well just remember Mrs. Wallace, you could also call Moe and ask her for assistance with anything you need."

Amanda laughed and said, "I'll remember Mr. Wallace."

Mickey heard Amanda's laughter as Sean opened the door to their room and exited into the hall to meet her. She started down the hall to the elevators with Sean on her heels.

The door to the room had barely closed when Amanda picked up her cell phone and started dialing an international number. She hoped that the unfamiliar number appearing on Jeremy's caller ID would not dissuade him from answering the call, especially considering the early hour in Sydney.

Her call was answered with a groggy, "Yes?"

"Jeremy, this is Amanda. I am so sorry to call you so early in the morning, but I was concerned that you would be worried and want to hear from me as soon as possible."

"You are absolutely right! I was awaken a couple of times, which is why I was sleeping late. I heard from our Embassy in Washington, but their assurances of your safety did little to appease my concerns. Then there was the call from that lawyer asking about you..."

"I am perfectly safe now, but I could use some assistance from you. The Embassy promised to arrange for a replacement passport and credit card, but I will need a car and driver as soon as possible in order for me to get to the American Express office to retrieve them."

"Nonsense," said Jeremy. "I'll have the items brought to you. Just tell me where you want them delivered..."

"Thank you Jeremy, but I'll need the transportation regardless. I have several errands that I need to run and lots of shopping to do. If for some reason the Embassy wasn't able to fulfill their promise, I will need you to assist me with insuring that my purchases are properly funded."

"As you wish, Amanda. Where would you like the car to pick you up?"

Amanda gave him the address for the hotel as well as her new cell phone number. "Thank you for your help Jeremy. Please try to get some rest. I'll be in touch over the next few days with some legal matters that I will need you to handle."

"Legal matters such as what?" asked Jeremy.

"It will depend on how things work out here," replied Amanda. "I believe at minimum I will want to establish a trust for the orphan girls, but there will likely be additional tasks of both a business and personal nature."

"I'll wait to hear from you then. Don't hesitate to call however, regardless of the hour."

"Thanks again Jeremy," said Amanda as she ended the call.

Searching the internet for locations of the American Express offices in the Atlanta area, Amanda soon identified the one where her passport and credit card were being held. After verifying their hours of operation she searched for shopping malls along the route between the hotel and the AMEX office and started planning her afternoon. A sudden thought interrupted her planning and she quickly found a phone number on the internet.

"Thank you for calling the Methodist Home of Atlanta..." was the recorded greeting Amanda heard as her call was connected. Pressing zero in hopes of bypassing a list of prompts she was soon connected with a live person.

"Good afternoon," said Amanda. "May I speak with the Director please?"

"I'll see if Mr. Hale is available. Please hold."

After only a few seconds a tired sounding man came on the line, "This is Jim Hale. May I help you?"

"Good afternoon Mr. Hale, my name is Amanda Wallace..." Amanda proceeded to explain her background working with the Methodist orphanage in East Timor, along with the events leading up to her and the twenty-five girls now being in Atlanta.

"What a horrible experience for all of you," said Jim Hale. "Is there anything that we can do here to assist you until their status is determined by the US Government?"

"That is actually the purpose for my call, Mr. Hale. Since the girls are technically wards of the Methodist Church, I would like your assistance in having their custody transferred to your facility. I will personally cover all the legal costs and put my lawyer at your disposal to deal with any government agencies involved." 

Even if she eventually returned to Australia, Amanda knew the girls would have better lives and stand a stronger chance at being adopted by nice families if they remained in the United States. Somehow, she had already come to accept the fact that Sean Wallace would be the determining factor in where she spent the rest of her life.

"I appreciate your offer to help, Ms. Wallace, but we do not have the space to accommodate twenty-five young girls at this time. Our licensed occupancy limit is exceeded on a daily basis as it is..."

"Mr. Hale," Amanda interrupted, "Just tell me what you need to accept these girls and I will make certain it is provided to you."

"We would need accommodations, food, clothing and staff at the very least."

"Is there a facility near your current location that would be suitable for accommodating the girls and required staff?" asked Amanda.

"I'm afraid not," said Hale.

"Mr. Hale, I would appreciate it if you assumed a more 'can-do' attitude. The Methodist Church is responsible for these girls and I am willing to personally fund their care under your supervision. Please research what other facilities in the Atlanta area are suitable for your needs relative to these girls, and start recruiting the staff you feel will be required. My lawyer, Jeremy Thorndike will be contacting you to discuss your financial needs, but this matter needs to be handled expeditiously."

"I'll do my best. Is there a number where I can reach you?"

Amanda gave him her cell phone number and ended the call just as the room phone rang. "Hello," she said as she answered the phone.

"Mrs. Wallace, there is a driver downstairs in the lobby waiting for you." 

"Thank you," she said. "I'll be right down."

***

Bryce Pierre read the message from his assistant one more time. He had ignored Tom Folsom's original request for a conference call with himself, Mark Morris and Kimberly Morris and now the messages were getting more demanding and hostile in their tone. Bryce had called in some support, and was now prepared for the conversation that he felt certain was about to occur.

Pierre took a seat at the conference table just as his assistant announced over the intercom that Tom Folsom was on the phone. He instructed her to put the call through to the conference room as he hit the speakerphone on the table.

"Good afternoon Mr. Folsom," greeted Pierre.

"Bryce, I have Mark Morris and Kimberly Morris on the phone with me. We appreciate you taking the time to discuss some critical matters with us," responded Folsom.

"What matters would that be?" asked Bryce.

"Primarily, the enforcement of the management contract between Tri-Star Partners and Wallace Enterprises. Sean Wallace seems to think that he can just waltz in and assume control without regard for the contract that exists naming Tri-Star as the managing entity for all of Wallace Enterprises."

Bryce knew that Folsom was going to play this card. "Mr. Folsom, as I told you when you and the other Vice Presidents signed the contract with Tri-Star, it was an unenforceable agreement that none of you had the authority to enter into on behalf of Wallace Enterprises or Sean Wallace."

Folsom was not to be dissuaded that easily. "I have it on sound legal advice from Tri-Star's lawyers that the fact that the contract was signed by three officers of Wallace Enterprises then it is in fact quite enforceable."

Bryce was shaking his head and trying to stifle the laughter that was about to erupt from his companions in the conference room. "Mr. Folsom, you should seek better legal counsel. None of you three are officers of Wallace Enterprises. You are each an officer of a specific division of Wallace Enterprises, but you have no authority beyond your own respective organizational responsibilities. Now, had Mr. Morris for example signed an agreement between Tri-Star Partners and the Hospitality Division of Wallace Enterprises, he might have a legal leg to stand on. Essentially, Tri-Star Partners would need to sign three separate contracts with each of your respective divisions in order for them to have overall management control of Wallace Enterprises, and even then, Sean Wallace, as sole owner, would have the right to negate the contract at any time."

"As legal counsel for us," said Folsom, "I would expect you and your firm to have provided the advice you say we needed before now. Tri-Star will sue to enforce the contract, you can be assured of that."

"I will repeat myself to all of you once again, Mr. Folsom. Middleton, Parker and Pierre does not represent any of you. We represent Sean Wallace and Wallace Enterprises. In that capacity, I advised you against your plans to sign the contract with Tri-Star Partners because I knew it would not be a valid or enforceable agreement. In addition Mr. Folsom, the authority of Mr. and Mrs. Morris is further diminished by the fact that their employment contracts were never signed or even approved by Sean Wallace."

"There needs to be a single authority leading Wallace Enterprises and that is what the management contract with Tri-Star provides. Each division operating on its own as Sean Wallace left things increases overall operational expenses, creates redundant activities and diminishes our competitive position for every brand we have," argued Folsom.

"There has always been a single authority leading Wallace Enterprises," retorted Pierre. "Sean Wallace never relinquished his role as President, trusting in his divisional vice presidents to focus on their own jobs, knowing that if they did so, the sum of their individual efforts would grow the whole organization."

"Well that strategy certainly hasn't worked for him, now has it?" chided Folsom.

"It probably would have if one of his vice presidents hadn't usurped the strategy by replacing two of the other vice presidents without authority to do so," countered Pierre.

Folsom didn't respond to this comment, but took a different direction, "So is Sean Wallace planning to assume a more prominent role in the management of Wallace Enterprises? If he tries to do that, he needs to know that his authority within the organization, with our vendors, and even with our customers will be challenged by Tri-Star Partners."

"I keep telling you, Mr. Folsom, Tri-Star Partners has no legal authority because they do not have a valid contract with Wallace Enterprises..."

Folsom interrupted, "The contract was recognized by the bank as valid enough for all of the financial accounts of Wallace Enterprises to be transferred to accounts controlled by Tri-Star Partners. For the past three months all accounts payable and accounts receivable, as well as the investment and retained earning accounts have been managed under the terms of the contract with Tri-Star. If the contract is challenged, Tri-Star could shut Wallace Enterprises down entirely simply by virtue of their financial control over the organization."

Bryce Pierre looked around the conference room at the other occupants before responding, "Very well, Mr. Folsom. Was there anything further that you wanted to discuss?"

"Just make certain that Sean Wallace understands that while he may technically own Wallace Enterprises, Tri-Star Partners controls everything and further meddling by him will not be in his best interest. Good-bye."

"So it's as you suspected," said the lone woman in the conference room. Assistant US Attorney Judy Gardner had been a friend of Sean Wallace since childhood and gladly agreed to listen in on the conference call once Bryce Pierre had informed her of the situation and his suspicions.

"They are definitely not as bright as they think they are," said Federal Judge Benjamin Evans. He too had agreed to listen to the conversation when Pierre had shared his concerns over a suspected conspiracy against Sean Wallace. Judge Evans had owned the property next to the Wallace family home for decades, had been a close friend of Sean's father and maintained regular contact with his grandmother who still lived in the house. Turning to Judy Gardner, he added, "My wife has been keeping me informed of what she knew, but I couldn't take action solely upon what she suspected. How long will it take you to prepare the required motions?"




Heavy Traffic Ch. 06



"I can have them to you within the hour," she said.

Judge Evans nodded and said, "My docket is free for the afternoon, so I think I'll just wait here with Bryce if he doesn't mind. This will be closer for you than having to bring the papers to my house for signature."

"You're more than welcome to wait here," said Pierre. "I can get you setup in a spare office so you can be comfortable and have some privacy for any work you want to do in the meantime."

Judy Gardner rose and picked up her briefcase. Bryce and the Judge rose along with her. "I'll be back with the motions shortly," she said. "With your signature Judge, we can get all of them acted on before close of business today."

"Where are Tri-Star Partners accounts held?" asked Judge Evans.

"Buckhead National Bank in Atlanta appears to be their main institution, but we will also target Volunteer Bank and Trust offices here in Nashville," said Gardner. "The motions will freeze all their accounts, not just those already identified as associated with Wallace Enterprises."

"Fine," said the Judge. "Let me know if you need any help getting cooperation from the FBI in visiting the banks today."

As she turned to leave the conference room, Judy Gardner responded, "Thanks your Honor. I don't envision any difficulty with the FBI, but I'll let you know if I need your influence."

***

When Amanda arrived at the American Express office she initially thought that she must have been cast in some hidden camera comedy show. After Amanda explained that she was there to pick up her replacement passport and credit card because she had lost hers, the young lady had asked to see some identification. Amanda tried to explain that she had no identification until she had her passport, but the agent insisted that she couldn't give Amanda her identification without first seeing some identification.

It took Amanda almost ten minutes to find a path of logic capable of penetrating the resistance of the agent. Once she had her passport and the black AMEX Centurion Card, Amanda asked the agent if she could assist her with obtaining some travelers checks. The transaction where Amanda obtained ten thousand dollars in AMEX traveller's checks, requesting that the money be charged to her credit card was fraught with even more entertainment from the agent than getting her to release Amanda's passport. Her driver stood inside the door to the office shaking his head and doing his best not to laugh at the challenges his passenger was courteously struggling with. Amanda finally persevered, and with a smile that hid her sigh of relief, she turned and headed to join her driver. As he held the door open for her, he smiled reassuringly.

When Amanda had first met her driver in the lobby of the hotel, she had almost mistaken him for the actor Morgan Freeman. The handsome middle aged chauffeur awaiting her exuded pride, professionalism and confidence, and Amanda was instantly enamored with him. After he had opened the back door to the Cadillac limousine for her, Amanda asked if he would mind her riding in the front with him. She explained that she not only wanted to see the sites as they drove, but she also wanted to talk to him and felt it would be easier if she was sitting next to him. He hadn't hesitated an instant, but simply closed the back door and stepped forward to open the front passenger door for her instead.

Rather than spending the time during the drive from the hotel to the AMEX office on her phone or searching the internet for things she needed to buy, Amanda focused her attention on Samuel Baldwin, her driver. Amanda's talent for getting people to open up to her worked with Samuel as well as it had with Sean. She soon knew that he had been born just outside Macon, Georgia, had been married for 35 years to his high school sweetheart, had three grown kids and one grandchild. In addition, she learned that Samuel had spent 30 years with Pitney-Bowes before retiring and had become a chauffeur to get out of the house and remain active in an occupation that had him constantly meeting new and different people. Samuel's wife sold real estate, and they were both very active in their church.

When they returned to the car from the AMEX office, Amanda apologized to Samuel about needing to spend time on the phone taking care of some business. Samuel dismissed her apology with a smile and held the back door open for her. As she settled into the back seat and Samuel assumed his position behind the steering wheel, she asked him to please keep the partition between the front and back seat open. Samuel merely smiled and nodded to her in the rearview mirror.

After using her phone to search the internet and do some brief research, Amanda's first call was to Maureen McKenna. She had transferred Sean's contact directory to her own phone earlier, so it was easy to locate Moe's home number.

"Hello," answered Maureen.

"Hello Maureen, this is Amanda Wallace. I wanted to check and make sure that you had made it home okay and if everything was alright with you."

"How thoughtful!" said Maureen. "Please call me Moe, and everything is fine here. However, Mr. Pierre has been trying to reach Sean and said it was vitally important that he speak to him today."

Looking at the time on her cell phone and assuming that Sean and Mickey were currently interrogating the traders, Amanda said, "Sean is currently occupied with matters that can't be interrupted, but I'll call Mr. Pierre when we are through to see if there is anything I can do for him on Sean's behalf. I would like to pick your brain real quick if that is okay."

"Of course, Amanda. What would you like to know?"

"One of Sean's companies sells uniforms doesn't it?"

"Wallace Retail Division includes 'White Spot' and 'White Hat Uniforms'. White Spot's business is primarily school uniforms while White Hat is focused on medical and law enforcement uniforms."

"Do you remember if there is a White Spot operation in the Atlanta area?" asked Amanda. "Certainly. It is one of the highest volume stores in the chain. It is located north of Atlanta in the city of Dunwoody, right near the big mall."

"Thank you Moe. Please take down my number and text me the address. Also, don't hesitate to call if you need to get in touch with me. I better give Mr. Pierre a call back now." Amanda recited her number to Moe and then disconnected.

"Samuel, do you know where a big shopping mall is in a city called Dunwoody?" she asked her driver.

"That would be Perimeter Mall, and we'll be driving right past it on our way back to the hotel. Do you want to go there now?"

"Yes please. I need to make another call, but I hope to have an exact address for you before we get to the mall."

"If you want to go to that White Spot store I heard you mention, I don't need an address. I know exactly where it is because I bought my daughter's Girl Scout uniforms from there."

"Wonderful Samuel, thank you. That's our next destination."

While Samuel drove, Amanda found Bryce Pierre's phone number and hit the 'talk' button on her phone. "Middleton, Parker and Pierre" was the announcement as her call was answered.

"Amanda Wallace calling for Mr. Pierre."

"One moment please."

Her wait was shorter than she expected. Bryce Pierre was on the line in less than five seconds. "Mrs. Wallace, I am so glad you called. I need to speak with Mr. Wallace on a very important matter and have been unable to reach him on his cell phone."

"That's why I'm calling Mr. Pierre. I heard that you were trying to reach Sean, but he is going to be unavailable for at least several hours yet. Is there anything that I can do to be of assistance in the meantime?"

Pierre considered her offer. Technically, he should only discuss the matters at hand with his client, Sean Wallace, but both Sean and Amanda had been pretty explicit in their earlier conversation that she was to be treated as Sean's equal, and failure to respect her authority could lead to his firm losing their largest client. He made his decision.

"There have been some developments related to Wallace Enterprises that I wanted to make Sean - and you of course - aware of." He proceeded to describe his suspicions about the activities of Tom Folsom and the Morris', explained how he had taken the initiative to invite Judge Evans and Assistant US Attorney Gardner to listen in on the conference call, and the subsequent confirmation that Wallace Enterprises accounts were under the control of Tri-Star Partners. When he told her about the legal motions that would be signed and executed that afternoon, Amanda realized the situation could be critical for Sean.

"Mr. Pierre, correct me if I am wrong, but freezing all the accounts controlled by Tri-Star Partners would essentially freeze all accounts of Wallace Enterprises, correct?"

"Technically, yes. The motions signed could exclude accounts dedicated to accounts payable, payroll, and the like, but since we don't know how Tri-Star has the accounts structured, I believe the US Attorney will take an 'all-inclusive' approach."

Checking the time once again Amanda saw that she didn't have much of it left. "Mr. Pierre, do you still have the number for Jeremy Thorndike?"

"Yes I do."

"Please conference him in on our conversation immediately." She waited as the conference call was being established. As soon as she heard Pierre return to the call and knew that Jeremy Thorndike had joined them, she took over the conversation.

"Jeremy, this is Amanda. We don't have a great deal of time, so I need you be as sharp for me as always. Please work with Mr. Pierre to draft whatever documents are required to insure that Wallace Holdings is legally responsible for the accounts payable and payroll funds for Wallace Enterprises. Mr. Pierre, are there any outstanding loans or other obligations that need to be addressed?"

"No," said Pierre. "Wallace Enterprises has always operated debt free."

"Excellent," replied Amanda. "I would assume that accounts will need to be established in the US to facilitate this arrangement, so Jeremy, you are authorized to immediately transfer three million United States dollars to an account at a bank that Mr. Pierre specifies. Make certain that only myself and Sean Wallace are authorized to access the funds, but their purpose should be clearly defined as being for the operation of any and all Wallace Enterprises business. Any questions?"

"Sean has more than enough in his personal accounts to cover for Wallace Enterprises," said Pierre.

"I'm sure he does," said Amanda, "But he will not be available to make the necessary arrangements until after the banks close for the day. I expect my instructions to be followed and the transactions completed before that time. You both have just over an hour by my watch."

"I'll call you back as soon as everything is set," said Pierre.

"Thank you Mr. Pierre. I am grateful for your diligence on Sean's behalf. I apologize for doubting your loyalty and professionalism earlier. Jeremy, I treasure you as always."

"Thank you Mrs. Wallace. Mr. Thorndike, if you would remain on the line for a few minutes, I think we can expedite matters between us."

"Thank you gentlemen," Amanda said as she disconnected from the call.

***

Even with the windows down and sitting under the shade of several trees in front of Glenn Parker's cabin, Sheriff Morgan Smith was sweating more than he ever had. The National Park Police surrounding the cabin had done their best to keep him hydrated, offering him cool water at least four times each hour that he had been handcuffed in the backseat of his own car, but the intake of fluids was barely enough to keep up with his perspiration.

When the officers outside started talking into their radios again and turned to face the entrance to the road leading from the highway to Parker's cabin, Morgan began sweating even more profusely. He had been formulating his statement to the FBI, but as their approach became imminent, his bravado began to fail him far too early. He didn't know what the FBI might already know about his involvement, but his experience with the Feds told him that he could easily dig his own grave if he tried to get too creative with them.

He heard the vehicles approaching at least three minutes before he saw the first one clear the trees as it came around a curve in the road. There were two additional Suburbans behind the first, and each one held four agents. Glenn Parker sat in the middle of the back seat of the first vehicle, with an agent on either side. As the first Suburban came to a stop next to the Sheriff's car, he saw Glenn Parker staring out as him even as the FBI agents next to him exited the car from either side. Sliding out on the side closest to the Sheriff's car, Parker walked up to the rear window, looked in at Morgan Smith and shook his head.

"I ought to skin your fat ass and use your hide to cover the spot where my front door used to be," said Parker.

"Glenn!" said Morgan, "I'm glad you're back early. I came to check on your cabin like I always do when you're out of town and ran into these yahoos. Do you know what is going on?"

"Stow it Morgan. While I wouldn't represent you if my life depended on it, I will offer you the only legal advice you'll ever get from me. Get yourself a good lawyer, or throw yourself on the mercy of the FBI in hopes of getting a deal that saves your sorry ass from the full punishment you deserve."

Parker was nudged away from the window by one of the FBI agents. "Why don't you go check out the condition of your cabin, Mr. Parker?" the agent suggested. "I need to have a few words with Sheriff Smith."

Parker walked away as the agent opened the back door and helped Sheriff Smith out of the car. He led him over to one of the Suburbans that still had the engine running with the air conditioner blowing steady. Opening the back door of the Suburban, he guided Smith into the seat before closing the door and taking a position in the front passenger seat. Turning sideways in the seat so he could look back at the Sheriff, the agent just stared at him for several minutes in silence.

Smith broke down first, "Someone want to tell me what's going on in my own damn jurisdiction?"

"Is that really how you want to play this out, Sheriff?"

Smith assumed a sulky expression and just stared back at the agent.

"My name is Aaron Nichols. I am Special Agent in Charge with the FBI's Atlanta office. As far as your jurisdiction is concerned, you no longer have any. You are currently in Federal custody pending charges, the severity of which will depend solely upon your cooperation over the next several hours. The United States Marshalls have assumed responsibility for your department until our investigation is complete, at which time an interim Sheriff will be appointed by the County Commissioners."

"What charges?" asked Smith. "What Federal crimes am I being accused of violating?"

"The short list includes conspiracy to commit murder, kidnapping, and aiding and abetting enemies of the United States," said Agent Nichols. "But the day is still relatively young and our investigation is just beginning."

"What murder, who's kidnapping and which enemies?" countered Smith.

"I'll just let you ponder your own questions for a while Sheriff, but while doing so, keep in mind that the three men who you provided assistance to this morning are still alive. They are talking, but not nearly as loudly as your own cell phone is."

Agent Nichols got out of the Suburban but was replaced by another agent who sat silently in the front seat ignoring all attempts by Morgan Smith to get further information on what the FBI already had on him.

***

True to his word, Samuel knew exactly where the White Spot Uniform store was located. Samuel and Amanda were the only customers in the store as Amanda selected shorts, various t-shirts, socks, and blouses for all twenty five girls. Amanda had spent enough time with the girls to be relatively certain of the sizes needed for each, but when it came to shoe size, she faced a challenge. The sales clerk who had been assisting them suggested that Amanda select sizes that she felt were close, and the store would gladly accept returns on anything that didn't fit. Amanda wasn't worried about returning anything. She would simply donate everything that didn't fit one of the girls to the Methodist Home with the knowledge that they would eventually find a foot to fit the shoe.

As the clerk was putting Amanda's selections together, her and Samuel realized that the space required to transport all the items was larger than the car they were in. Samuel said that he had a friend with a van who he was certain would be willing to transport the items from the store to the hotel in exchange for gas alone, but he wouldn't be able to get to the store for at least an hour. The clerk assured them that the store didn't close until 8PM, and she would be willing to wait later if necessary. The clerk had recognized Amanda's urgency in getting these items for the girls, although she didn't know the details.

When Amanda started signing travellers checks to pay for the items, she presented her passport to the clerk anticipating her requirement for identification. When the clerk examined the passport she said, "You're from Australia. I've always wanted to visit there."

"Yes I am," said Amanda as she continued to sign the required number of traveller's checks to cover her purchase.

"Amanda Wallace," said the clerk as she read the name on the passport. "Did you know that this store is part of Wallace Enterprises? Quite a coincidence, huh? Our largest sale of the year and you have the same last name as the owner."

Amanda stopped and smiled at the clerk, "It's precisely because this store is owned by Sean Wallace that I am shopping here."

"Do you know Sean Wallace?" asked the clerk in amazement. "Wait a second..." She clicked an icon on her POS system that brought up the e-mail program and quickly scrolled through the messages until she found what she was looking for.

"Oh my God!" she exclaimed, "You're THE Amanda Wallace, aren't you?"

"If you're referring to the e-mail from Mr. Pierre, then that's me."

"Mrs. Wallace, this is such an honor. Why are you paying for this stuff when you own the company?"

Looking at the clerk's name tag once more to make sure that she had the name right she said, "Because Linda, technically I do not own the company, Sean does. Also, by paying for it I make certain that you receive the credit, and the commission you deserve. You have been a great help and you are a real asset to Wallace Enterprises."

Linda blushed as Amanda continued, "Do you have any vacation time due you, Linda?" Surprised by the question, Linda had to stop and think before answering, "I get two weeks of vacation each year and I haven't taken any so far."

"Well, when you are ready to take your vacation, I will send you to Australia as my guest. I will make all the arrangements to be certain that you see the true Australia, and you will even stay on my ranch. I would love to hear your stories when you return, so that is the only cost that you will have to pay. And please call me Amanda."

Linda was speechless and stood there just nodding her head up and down.

"Could I have one of your business cards please?" Amanda asked in an attempt to bring Linda back to reality. Linda snapped out of her daze, handed Amanda one of her cards and completed the transaction.

Linda also handed one of her cards to Samuel. "Tell your friend to call me. I'll wait as long as necessary for him to get here."

The uniform store was located in a center that was anchored by a Wal-Mart Super Center. Amanda tore through this store buying every girl's swimsuit she could find. Some of the styles and colors were not to her liking, but she wanted to be certain that every girl had at least one swimsuit that they could use at the hotel pool. She also took the time to select a few items for herself that would provide her with some options besides the blue jeans and T-shirts that Sean had bought for her earlier.




Heavy Traffic Ch. 06



Amanda had no intention of going to Perimeter Mall until a particular sign caught her eye. Samuel was still more than happy to accompany Amanda as she continued her quest, with the two of them sharing more and more details about what had brought Amanda to Atlanta.

On the drive back to the hotel they encountered the heavy rush hour traffic that Samuel told her Atlanta was famous for. While Samuel focused on navigating them through the multiple freeway interchanges and traffic bottlenecks, Amanda had one of the few opportunities she had had to let her mind wander exclusively to thoughts of Sean Wallace. She noticed a pair of tall buildings off the freeway with adornments on top of each. She asked Samuel about them.

"Those are the Concourse buildings," he informed her. "They're called the 'King and Queen' buildings because of the tops resembling crowns.

Amanda turned to look at the buildings more closely and she had to agree that they reminded her of the king and queen pieces on a chess board. More than that, them being referred to as "King and Queen" reminded her of her parents and the life that she had always thought would be her own destiny.

Amanda felt like her feet hadn't touched the ground since she had taken Sean Wallace's hand this morning, and while she tried not to think about the physical responses Sean's touch had elicited from her, she couldn't ignore the memory of them entirely. She wanted to dedicate her analysis instead to her emotional responses as she recalled them from throughout the day. Reflecting back on the things she had done for Sean earlier, everything had seemed so instinctual to her - as natural as breathing.

She fondly remembered how her parents had always seemed to know exactly what each other wanted or needed without exchanging words. Whether in business or in their personal relationship, her parents had always demonstrated a synergy built on more than their love alone.

Amanda knew that she had already developed strong feelings for Sean Wallace - feelings that she now contemplated in comparison to what she had seen in her parent's relationship. Strongest among these was the obvious trust and security that she had in him, but she also had to acknowledge that this was equaled by the almost overpowering desire for her to demonstrate to Sean that she was trustworthy, loyal, and totally devoted to him. Never before had Amanda felt the natural desire to put the needs of a man ahead of her own, with an inherent knowledge that by doing so, she was fulfilling her most basic needs as well.

Is this what her parents had shared? Amanda thought it might be the case, but regardless, she knew that she couldn't deny that there was something about Sean Wallace that had changed her forever, and the thought of anything about Sean being "forever" in her life made her more content than she had been in years. Her fear was that he didn't feel the same way, which made her feel more insecure than she had ever felt around another person.

Returning to the hotel at approximately 6:30PM, Amanda saw one of the I.C.E. Agents she had met on the bus, Geri chatting with a new clerk at the hotel desk. When Geri saw Amanda enter the lobby, she waved to catch her attention and motioned for her to join her. Samuel grabbed one of the luggage carts provided for guest use and wheeled it out to his car to unload Amanda's purchases.

"May I help you?" asked Amanda.

"Since Agent Anderson is still tied up, maybe you can help me straighten some things out with the hotel manager," said Geri.

Amanda glanced between Geri and the hotel clerk and sensed their trepidation.

"I'll do what I can," said Amanda. "What is the problem?"

"Apparently, the rooms were reserved by a vice president of the hotel chain and the clerk that checked us in assumed that they were complimentary," replied Geri. The clerk nodded silently in agreement with the statement. "The staff is concerned about how the rooms will be paid for. I'm sure that Agent Anderson could arrange for vouchers, but that will take a few days and the manager is looking for an answer today."

"I understand," said Amanda. Addressing the clerk she asked, "Is the manager available now to discuss this?"

The clerk checked her telephone console, "It appears that Mr. Bingham just got off a call. I'll see if he can meet with you."

While the clerk checked with the manager, Amanda spoke to Geri, "Have any arrangements been made for the girls' dinner?"

"We've been discussing what to get for them. Many of them have had cramps and upset stomachs from the box lunches they were served on the bus."

"I was afraid of that," said Amanda. "They had a very limited diet for the past few weeks and should be weaned into other foods gradually. "Let's discuss some options when we meet with the manager and see what facilities the hotel may have for us to utilize."

There was a brief exchange between the clerk and the manager before the clerk disconnected and then directed Geri and Amanda through a doorway leading into the back offices of the hotel. There was a squat but friendly looking man who was just stepping out of an office at the end of a short hallway.

"Good evening, I'm Dave Bingham."

"Good evening," said Amanda and Geri in unison.

Dave Bingham smiled and directed them into his office where he waited for the two women to take seats in front of his desk before he sat in his chair behind it.

"I'm sorry that I wasn't here earlier to welcome you to our property. I hope your rooms are satisfactory.

Geri spoke before Amanda had an opportunity, "We realize that our request and arrival caught you by surprise, so on behalf of the entire Atlanta Immigration and Customs Enforcement team, I want to thank you for your cooperation."

"Well that answers one of my questions," said Bingham. "We were wondering why there were so many agents in the hotel and watching the parking lot. Can you provide any details on what the circumstance are that necessitated your stay with us?"

"I'm afraid that I can't go into detail with you," said Geri. "Our presence here has to remain confidential for the time being, as well as the reasons behind it."

The smile had disappeared off Bingham's face, but he remained amiable when he asked, "Is there any reason that we need to be concerned about the safety of our other guests?"

Geri assured him that there wasn't any need for concern, and that the presence of the agents was routine. Amanda could tell that this explanation didn't completely appease Mr. Bingham.

"Doesn't the government have a budget to cover hotel room charges in these types of situations?" Bingham asked. "I'm also confused about why arrangements weren't made through the normal channels if this is a government operation of some sort."

"I'm afraid that was my doing," Amanda said. "I was asked to make the arrangements through Keith Longo, but when I found out he no longer worked for Wallace Enterprises I had to deal with Mark Morris. He is the one who selected your property for us and arranged for the rooms."

"Well Mark Morris certainly has the authority to arrange for complimentary rooms," said Bingham. "Did Mr. Morris mention anything to you about our policy for comp rooms as it relates to incidental charges?"

"He was not asked to provide the rooms for free," said Amanda with a grin. "We was just instructed to find a block of rooms for us."

"So how did you expect to cover the charges for the rooms if you didn't request them to be complimentary? Will the government be providing vouchers or provide an alternative payment method?"

"The girls are my responsibility," said Amanda as she pulled her messenger bag onto her lap. "And I'm not with the US Government. You do take American Express don't you?"

"Of course," said Bingham. "I'll figure out the lowest group rate possible for you and give it to Mrs. Adams at the front desk. You can settle up with her on your way to your room. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Do you have a conference room or large banquet type room that we can use to bring all the girls together for meals and such?" asked Amanda.

"We have a meeting room that can accommodate up to 100 people for dining. Would you like me to reserve it for you? I can include the rental of it along with your room charges." 

"Yes, please. Do you have a kitchen on the property that we could use?"

Bingham was shaking his head as he replied, "I'm sorry. While we do have a kitchen that the staff uses to prepare the complimentary continental breakfast, snacks and the like, it is not available for guests to use."

Amanda ignored his rejection and continued, "Does it have a stove, running water, pots and pans and utensils?"

"It is a fully functioning kitchen, but as I said, it is not available for guest use," said Bingham.

"Mr. Bingham, we have twenty-five young girls who have some special dietary requirements right now. All we need is the ability to prepare enough scrambled eggs for their dinner tonight. I will pay for all the food and compensate you for the use of the facilities and any staff that you feel need to be involved in this process. Please don't make me arrange this through Mark Morris."

"I doubt that you would be able to contact Mr. Morris to make the arrangements since he has been unavailable since early afternoon, but let me see what we can work out here for you. How soon would you need the food prepared?"

"I think we should try to get the girls fed within the hour. I have some deliveries for them that will cause a distraction if we wait much longer than that." Turning to address Geri, Amanda asked, "If I gave you some money, could you send someone to a local grocery store to buy five or six dozen eggs?"

"I'll be glad to do it myself," said Geri. "No need for you to pay for it though. I'll get reimbursed if I pay for the food."

"Thank you Geri." Turning to address Bingham again, Amanda asked "Can we buy the food on the assumption that you will be able to assist us with getting it prepared?"

"Sure," said Bingham. "Let me work out the room charges real quick for Mrs. Adams, then I'll cover for her at the front desk so that she can assist you in the kitchen."

Rising from her chair and being followed by Geri, Amanda said, "Thank you Mr. Bingham. I apologize for any misunderstandings or concerns that we may have caused you. We appreciate your hospitality and will try to be ideal guests."

"We're glad you're here, and we appreciate your business. Please call on me if there is anything further I can do to assist you."

Amanda let Geri exit the office and then stopped in the doorway for a final word with Bingham, "As I mentioned, I am expecting some deliveries shortly for the girls. Will there be any problem having these taken directly to the meeting room when they arrive?"

"No problem at all. I'll instruct Mrs. Adams to program a door key to the meeting room for you and I'll direct your deliveries to the room when they arrive."

"Thank you," said Amanda as she left the office and returned to the front desk.

***

Tom Folsom had maintained his grin of satisfaction since the conference call with that shyster Pierre had ended. Kimberly was coming over to spend the night and he anticipated her being especially aroused because of him putting Sean Wallace and his lawyer in their place.

When his cell phone rang, he was tempted to ignore it, but since his e-mail access was still restricted, he thought it would be best to keep at least one channel of communication open between him and his company. His company - not Sean Wallace's. He'd seen to that with the Tri-Star Partners contract regardless of what some Ivy League law firm might think.

"Hello," he said as he answered his phone.

"What da fuck is up, Blo-Pop?"

"Hey I-Bar, what do you want?"

DeMarcus Steele, street name of 'I-Bar', had been in the same DeKalb County, Georgia street gang as Tom 'Blo-Pop' Folsom when they were in their early teens. DeMarcus and Tom had carjacked a Lexus from a couple one summer night and been chased by the police, DeMarcus was the only one of the two to get caught when they crashed because he couldn't untangle himself from the airbag fast enough to run, which is how Tom had escaped capture. While DeMarcus was spending five years in juvenile detention and learning more of the street skills he would later master, Tom had been sent to live with an aunt and uncle in Tennessee where he got into athletics and learned his own skills of manipulation. DeMarcus had become the preeminent gang lord of Atlanta behind a front as a successful gospel music singer and rap music producer.

"Where's my chipment? That's what I wanna know," said I-Bar.

Looking at his watch Folsom said, "It was supposed to arrive at the warehouse by 4PM wasn't it? It's only 6:30 there, so two and a half hours isn't anything to start worrying about. Shit, I-Bar, you've driven I-75 between Atlanta and Florida, and you know how construction, radar traps and accidents can affect schedules on that road."

"Don't tell me when to start worryin', Blo-Pop. I got cusmers waitin, serious money invested and dead air when I try to reach either dajungle monkeys bringin me da girls or da driver of da truck daybe in. Somethin ain't right and I wan you to find out whad it is."

"Okay I-Bar, I'll make some calls and check things out. While I have you on the phone I want to fill you in on some events involving Tri-Star Partners and Sean Wallace..."

"I thought dat pussy off meditatin on some mountain or some shit like dat."

Folsom proceeded to fill the owner of Tri-Star partners in on the events of the day as well as his conversation with Bryce Pierre.

"Maybe dis Boy Scout need to go to da big campout in da sky," said I-Bar. "No one else in da famly to run da bidness, so Tri-Star has no challengers."

"That's an option," said Folsom, "but there is now apparently a Mrs. Boy Scout that would also need to be dealt with."

"Well, worry about my chipment first then we'll discuss da Boy Scout and his missus." DeMarcus hung up on Folsom.

Folsom checked his directory and called his contact at the Georgia Department of Transportation. He learned that the truck's PrePass transponder had been read as it passed the weigh station near Valdosta, but had not yet been seen by the weigh station near Forsyth. Although the Forsyth scales were closed for service, the computer still read passing transponders so the truck was obviously still somewhere between Valdosta and Forsyth. Folsom then inquired into any major construction delays along the route and was told that there were none. Threatening thunderstorms in the area had postponed the construction for the day along that route. His contact did tell him that there had been a temporary closure of I-475 shortly before noon due to police activity, but he had no further details to offer.

Police activity? Well Folsom had a contact that should be able to get him the details on that. He dialed Morgan Smith's cell phone number and waited for it to be answered.

"Hello?"

"Sheriff Smith?" asked Folsom.

"He's tied up at the moment. May I ask who is calling?"

Folsom disconnected without answering. Why would someone else be answering Morgan Smith's personal cell phone? Searching papers on his desk until he found what he was looking for, Folsom called another cell phone number.

"Hello?"

"Fuck," thought Folsom as he quickly disconnected the call. The same voice had answered the throw-away phone provided to the film crew as the one who had answered Morgan Smith's phone. That didn't make sense.

His thoughts were interrupted by Kimberly walking into the room. As she started removing her clothes she was chuckling to herself.

"What's so funny?" asked Folsom.

"I was just thinking about how bent out of shape Mark is still over the way Amanda Wallace pulled his tail today. She really set him off, so I'm glad I don't have to spend the night with him."

"I got the impression that she had steam-rolled him earlier, but we both know that is easy to do with Mark," Folsom said as he took Kimberly's now naked body into his arms. "What did she do to him exactly?"

"I don't think it was what she had him do as much as it was the way she told him to do it. She requested that Mark find one of our properties in the Atlanta area with 30 available rooms for five nights. When he asked why, she told him "Because your boss told you to."

"Thirty rooms?" asked Folsom with renewed concern in his voice. "Do you know what Mark was able to arrange?"

"He said that he had to cancel a bunch of reservations for other guests and move a few already registered, but he was able to find the rooms at the Wonderland Suites property on the west side of the Atlanta metro area," replied Kimberly. "Why?"

"There have been too many coincidences today involving Mr. and Mrs. Wallace," said Folsom as he went to his computer and searched for the information he needed. Once he had the number he made another call.

"Wonderland Suites. How may I assist you?"

"Hi, this is Tom Folsom, Vice President of Wallace Enterprises. With whom am I speaking?"

"This is Latoya Adams sir."

"Latoya, did someone arrange for a block of thirty rooms to be reserved there today?" 

"Yes sir, and Mr. Bingham was none too happy about it either."

"Have any of the guests under that reservation arrived yet?"

"As far as I know, they have all arrived, sir. Twenty five little foreign girls and a dozen or so adults. A bunch of other people have also shown up, but they're just hanging around the parking lot and lobby, kind of just watching for something. Don't worry though, Mr. Bingham is getting a good rate for the rooms because they were reserved at the last minute."

"Who is paying for the rooms?" asked Folsom.

"Well, from what her American Express card says, Amanda Wallace."

"Amanda Wallace is there?"

"Yes sir. Her and Sean Wallace are both here. They arrived with the foreign girls this afternoon."

"Thank you Latoya," Folsom said as he disconnected the call.

Folsom started recalling details from the day. His recollections started with finding out that Sean Wallace had made arrangements to fly Glenn Parker back home several days early, then to find out that Wallace owned the cabin closest to where Morgan Smith had sent the film crew, which happened to be Glenn Parker's cabin. There had been no word from the film crew, and now calls to the cell phone provided to them were being answered by the same strange voice that was answering Morgan Smith's. The truck transporting I-Bar's shipment of twenty five girls was missing, and now Sean and Amanda Wallace are sheltering that exact number of young girls at one of his properties. Too many coincidences for certain, but how could he get to the bottom of things? He decided to call DeMarcus.

Kimberly had put on a robe and was sitting quietly in an overstuffed chair just watching and listening to her lover. She could see his mood darkening.

"Yo Blo-Pop. Where's my chipment?" answered DeMarcus.

"I'm not certain of this I-Bar, but I think it was hijacked along the way," said Folsom. 

"Say what?"

"Settle down I-Bar and I'll tell you what I know." Folsom then detailed the various pieces of seemingly disconnected information that when put together indicated that Sean and Amanda Wallace had stumbled onto both the film crew and the shipment of girls and were now keeping them at the motel on the west side of I-Bar's town.

"Get your ass down here now," said I-Bar.



Heavy Traffic Ch. 07



Sean stood in the vestibule of the Detention Center watching the rain outside while waiting for Mickey to finish her meetings. He thought it was always interesting to observe the natural wonder of the weather from a dry, comfortable location. A person seldom had the same appreciation for thunderstorms while exposed to their elements directly, so Sean used the varying intensity of the rain as cloud cells moved past in the sky to focus his thoughts on the events of the day.

He wanted to concentrate his thoughts on Amanda Wallace, but he also knew that those thoughts needed and deserved more time and dedicated focus than he would be able to devote to them before Mickey interrupted him. In fact, he needed to give some thought to the subject of 'Mickey' itself.

Since they had left the hotel, Mickey had remained professional, but she continued to make it very clear to Sean that she wanted an opportunity to explore at least a physical relationship between them. Sean expected her attempts at seducing him to intensify once she joined him in a few minutes and he knew that his lack of interest would not be easy to disguise.

Mickey was a woman who felt that physical attraction between a man and woman trumped factors such as morality, fidelity, and devotion. When Sean had first met Mickey while he was engaged to Kimberly, she had not been dissuaded by his committed relationship status with another woman in the slightest. Mickey had reluctantly accepted Sean's moral beliefs on fidelity as an excuse at that time, but now that she knew he was 'unencumbered' in her eyes, Mickey was not going to be as tolerant of any moral or ethical arguments against her desires.

Sean had willingly experienced casual sexual relationships in the past, and he definitely thought that Mickey was a desirable woman. So, why did he feel that succumbing to Mickey's advances now would be even a greater infidelity than when he was engaged to Kimberly? He knew the answer, but didn't understand it. From the moment she placed her hand into his, Sean felt more committed to Amanda Wallace than he had been in any previous relationship, including his engagement to Kimberly.

Just as his mind began to wander to Amanda, Mickey strode up next to him. Speaking to her reflection in the glass rather than facing her, he asked "Ready to return to the hotel?"

"I won't be returning to the hotel tonight," she told Sean as she moved next to him. She moved close enough for her breast to be rubbing against his arm as they stood watching the rain together. Sean could have sworn that she had been wearing a bra when they had separated earlier for her to attend her meetings while he listened in on the interrogation of the truck driver. It was obvious that she wasn't wearing one now as he felt the softness and warmth of her polo shirt covered breast against his arm.

"One of my fellow agents is retrieving my things from the hotel and will be picking me up here within the hour." She continued, "I need to head down to Seminole County to assist with the investigation and interrogations taking place there. Would you like to come with me?" The invitation was delivered in a sultry tone filled with hope and through their reflections in the glass doors, he saw Mickey looking up at him in anticipation of his answer.

"Seminole County is the opposite direction of where I need to be," Sean said as he avoided her eyes, both in the reflection and by not turning to face her as she stared up at him. "I need to deal with some business issues, and I suppose Amanda could use some support and assistance with the girls over the next few days."

"My team can assist Amanda with the girls," said Mickey. The last thing she wanted was for the bond between Sean and Amanda to have a chance to strengthen. "As far as your business goes, the course of the investigation might actually help you with some of the decisions you'll need to make. It makes sense for you to come with me and get all the facts first-hand so you know who is involved within your organization and to what degree."

"Thanks, but I already know that I'll need to make certain changes regardless of how the investigation turns out, and the longer I delay those, the more exposed I leave myself and my company. I trust you to keep me informed on the details of the investigation, and sitting idle and simply listening is not the way I was raised or trained. There are things that I need to do, and I can't do those from Seminole County."

Sean thought he might appease Mickey by offering, "Would you like to use my cabin while you're in Seminole County? Cell phone service is very poor so the land line at my place and the satellite for internet access would provide you with better communication options while allowing you to remain close to the scene. You could get a motel room in Donaldsonville, but I think you would be more comfortable at my cabin."

Mickey moved even closer to Sean by turning to face him fully from the side. Now he felt his upper arm sandwiched into the cleavage between both of her breasts and her pelvic bone against his thigh. "Your cabin would be more convenient. Do you think you might be able to join me there by the weekend?"

Sean ignored her question by changing the subject, "What are your thoughts on the interrogations of the truck driver and traders so far?"

Mickey did not seem inclined to alter their physical proximity as she remained in place while answering him. "They were about what I expected. The traders had been contacted only through the internet website you know about, and the truck driver just had information on which container to pick up and where to deliver it with no details on its content. You heard him. When he was forced off the road by your trucks, he thought he must be carrying electronics of some sort and that he was being hijacked for that cargo. It had happened to him before, so he was genuinely surprised to learn that he had the girls in the container."

"I believed his story," admitted Sean.

"The descriptions provided to the traders for who they would be meeting and receiving the rest of their payment from matched the description the truck driver was given for who he should deliver the container to. So, we know that there are at least two African American males with names that 'sound like items from a first-aid kit' who were supposed to be at the designated warehouse to accept delivery. Based upon where the warehouse is located, I suspect that payment for the traders and the truck driver would have been in the form of 'lead to the head'. The industrial park chosen is virtually deserted and surrounded by woods and brush that would have made disposing of the bodies simple. The wild animals would have done most of the work within days."

"Your team has no intelligence that might help identify the men described?" asked Sean.

"Not so far," said Mickey. "We are working with the local police departments' gang and vice units to see if any of them might recognize the descriptions, but that will take some time. The warehouse has been under surveillance since we learned of its location, but it would be very easy for someone to stay away from the warehouse entirely until they saw the truck approaching. There would be no exposure until they knew that their shipment had arrived and wasn't being followed."

"So you think you might be able to get some additional information down in Seminole County," said Sean.

"It stands to reason that the people who assisted with getting the container past Customs, tampered with the 'Pre-Pass' database, and provided transportation for the traders must have some point of contact within the distribution chain. That's where the FBI is focusing their investigation, along with what the tie-ins are between the girls and Amanda being sold to the film crew. It can't be purely coincidental, and no one is accepting that it is."

Sean told her, "Text me your cell number and I'll reply with the security system code for my cabin."

With her disappointment obvious, Mickey entered a text message to Sean into her phone. Within seconds she had sent a text message requesting the alarm code.

"Be certain that you make any calls you need to make from your cell phone before you get outside of Bainbridge or Donaldsonville. The cellular service drops off quickly as you head south of either town." Sean warned her.

"As long as the weather here clears in the next hour as predicted, I'll be flown down in a helicopter." Mickey told him. "I'm not sure if I'll be going to Parker's cabin first or if the interrogations will have been moved into Donaldsonville by the time I get there. I'll call you when I get to your cabin and fill you in."

Sean finally turned towards Mickey as he said, "Thanks Mickey, I appreciate that."

As soon as his body was facing hers fully, Mickey put her arms around his neck and pulled him into an embrace. With her lips against his neck she said, "I want you to appreciate me more. Please come with me. A bush in the hand is worth two birds. I know you're aroused," she teased.

Sean put his arms around Mickey and gave her a quick squeeze before pulling back and looking down at her. "I'm a guy. We get aroused at a green light, but now is not a good time. Sorry."

As Mickey dropped her arms from around Sean's neck, he moved towards the door. "I should be back at the hotel within the hour. Other than possibly going out to get a bite to eat, I will be there the rest of the night. I'll be checking out in the morning, but you will still be able to reach me on my cell."

Approaching the door before it could close after him, Mickey asked, "Where are you headed tomorrow?"

"My plans are somewhat fluid right now, but I expect that sometime tomorrow I will need to head to Nashville. Maybe I'll know more when you call me later. Safe travels." Without waiting for Mickey to reply, Sean strolled out into the parking lot and headed for his car. The rain had stopped and he could see clearing skies to the south. "Good," he thought. Mickey would be able to get on the helicopter and hundreds of miles away from him faster now.

As Sean entered his car, turned on his cell phone, and paired the hands free Bluetooth he acknowledged to himself at least, that he had been fighting off a sense of frustration associated with the potential of Mickey interfering with his previously subconscious desire to spend time alone with Amanda tonight. Before he could dwell on this realization further, he responded to Mickey's text message. As he finished sending it, his phone sounded a tone indicating he had a voicemail.

***

The girls had spent most of the afternoon sleeping, but by the time Amanda began checking on them, they were all awake and excited. Samuel had helped her carry the bags holding the bathing suits into the hotel meeting room, while Amanda took her other purchases to her room. Although the thunderstorm outside would prevent them from going into the outdoor swimming pool, the suits would give the girls something clean to wear after taking baths or showers.

While Amanda and the I.C.E. Agents distributed swimming suits to the girls and then sent them to their rooms to shower or bathe, Samuel called his wife, who in turn contacted several members of their church and arranged for volunteers to come to the hotel and help with the girls. Their church had sponsored missionaries in Brazil for decades, and as a result they had several members who were conversant in Portuguese.

There was no longer concern over what to feed the girls for dinner. Amanda's training convinced her that some simple scrambled eggs should help the girls start to get used to more varied and richer food choices over the next few days. Contemplating what the girls had experienced, Amanda was surprised that her own stomach had given her no adverse reaction to the sandwich that she had eaten earlier. In fact, she felt fine.

With the help of Latoya Adams and her knowledge of the hotel kitchen, Amanda, Geri and Mrs. Adams were able to each prepare multiple skillets of fluffy scrambled eggs. The pantry contained a selection of breads and pastries, which Dave Bingham insisted be offered to the girls if their stomachs felt up to it.

One of the I.C.E. Agents coming on duty had brought a portable DVD player and a selection of Disney movies which he proceeded to set up on the large-screen television that the hotel had mounted in the meeting room. Even though they didn't understand the language in the movie, the girls were entertained watching "The Little Mermaid" while they waited for their dinner to be prepared. Samuel worked with the other agents preparing tables and chairs for the pending meal.

The food was served just as Samuel's wife and five other volunteers from their church arrived in a church van. This van was followed into the parking lot by another panel van transporting Amanda's purchases from White Spot Uniforms. Fortunately, Samuel's wife Jeanie had the presence of mind to have the delivery delayed until after the girls had finished eating. Her experience as a mother told her that the girls would be better behaved during their dinner if they were not distracted by seeing all the clothes and other purchases being delivered for them.

Amanda sat with Samuel and Jeanie as the girls ate the food served to them by the church volunteers. They discussed the possibility of the church organizing an all-day event for the girls the next day and Amanda encouraged them with a promise to pay for whatever they could arrange. She listened politely to stories about their children and their church, but her mind constantly drifted to thoughts of Sean Wallace. She wanted to call him, but assumed that since he hadn't called her that he must still be with Mickey interrogating the traders and the trucker. She had missed his presence the second he had walked out of their room but had been too busy all afternoon to dwell on the emptiness she felt without him near her.

Being able to spend even a few minutes arranging for the financial support of Sean's company made her feel as if her very existence was justified. She wanted him to want her, and she needed him to need her. Amanda realized that she was already completely invested in him. She wanted Sean more than she had ever wanted anything in her life, and this led her to acknowledge that she needed him to make her life whole. The dilemma she faced was reconciling the awareness she had for that she wanted and needed Sean to be in her life with the undeniable fact that they had known each other less than twenty-four hours and met under circumstances that would call into question her judgment of her emotions where the man who had saved her life was concerned.

Amanda had never been impulsive with her feelings or let her emotions overrule her sensibilities. While falling in love might normally be a slow process, Amanda knew that hours and minutes were not an accurate measure of a relationship. She knew that she could separate the gratitude and adoration she had felt for Sean over his actions at Glenn Parker's cabin from the trust, devotion, desire, and love that she felt for the man she had spent the rest of the day either with or thinking of. Why couldn't her hero also turn out to be her one true soul mate? 

***

Sean had to listen to the voicemail from Moe and all three voicemails from Bryce Pierre before he finally heard one that provided a cell phone number for Bryce rather than his office number. When he eventually reached his lawyer at home, Bryce Pierre filled him on the events of the day concerning his company and the legal steps that Pierre had initiated to protect him.

The frustration and anger that had started to build in Sean seemed to vanish instantly when Bryce relayed the details of his conversation with Amanda and her subsequent actions on his behalf due to him being unavailable.

"Please get the necessary information from Mr. Thorndike that will allow me to transfer funds tomorrow to pay Amanda back," Sean instructed.

"I already have the account details and I'll e-mail them to you," said Bryce. "I assumed that you would want to use your own funds to cover the current situation, but Amanda was concerned that you would not be in a position to make the arrangements today, and it appears that she was correct."

"I have some after-hours contacts that I could have called upon to get the funds transferred if necessary," replied Sean. "You're not the only person who will take a call from me once they leave the office."

Bryce laughed, "I'm sure that I'm not, and I did consider that, but Mrs. Wallace seemed intent on handling the situation, and based upon my earlier conversation with the two of you, I wasn't about to argue the point with her."

This time Sean laughed. "I can see your point there, Bryce, but I'll get the funds back to her accounts tomorrow regardless."

"My conversations with her lawyer Thorndike have provided me with limited insight into Mrs. Wallace's financial situation, but she appears to have a fairly respectable portfolio," said Bryce.

"She definitely doesn't need my money," agreed Sean.

"While I was impressed by her willingness to readily transfer such significant funds to cover Wallace Enterprises, I want to tell you that her lawyer Thorndike didn't seem happy about her decision. He didn't seem to know much about you or Wallace Enterprises, which surprised me until he mentioned that he hadn't been in contact with Mrs. Wallace for several months. I guess you two getting married is as much a surprise to him as it was to me."

Sean almost laid the truth on Bryce, but he found that a confession about him and Amanda not really being married depressed him more than he would have imagined when he came up with the idea about the deception earlier in the day. He was saved from commenting when Bryce continued, "I can understand why you didn't feel a pre-nuptial agreement was necessary due to Amanda having her own money, but please consider working with me if you two plan on merging your business or other interests. I think I have established a rapport with Thorndike, so if Amanda wants to use her own lawyers, I'm sure we can work together with them to make sure both of you are satisfied with the outcome."

Sean reflected upon how his trust in Amanda had grown throughout the day. His unspoken yet heartfelt devotion towards her had been felt since he recognized in Amanda that he was looking into the purest, gentlest soul he had ever encountered. It had started as a vague feeling that became a hunch, which became a conviction that morphed into a compulsion, and now was a desperate urgency within him. Sharing his business with her had come so natural to him that he believed expanding this and exploring other facets of their lives for them to partner in made his heart dance. Without doubt, he just knew that Amanda would feel the same way.

"Amanda and I have a lot to work out Bryce, but you'll definitely play a role in formalizing anything that we feel requires legal protections. Maybe we can all get together next week sometime. I'll discuss it with Amanda and let you know. I need to run right now, but expect to hear from me in the morning with some additional instructions. I'll send you an e-mail first thing in the AM."

"Good enough, Sean. Have a good evening."

The instant that Bryce disconnected, Sean called Amanda's cell phone. Her phone rang only once before her breathless voice came over the speakers in his car, "Hi Sean, are you and Mickey heading back to the hotel?"

Sean hesitated before responding because the sound of her voice had made his throat tight and he didn't want his voice to betray him to her just yet, "Hi Amanda. Mickey had to head down to my cabin so she could help with the interrogations down there tonight and tomorrow. I was wondering if you have had dinner yet and if not, if you would like to join me. I'm about fifteen minutes from the hotel right now."




Heavy Traffic Ch. 07



"I made sure the girls had dinner, but I waited to eat until hearing from you or Mickey. I'm starving and would love to have dinner with you. I'm just finishing up here handing out new clothes to the girls, so I can head up to the room and get cleaned up before you get here. Do you know where you want to go for dinner and what sort of dress would be appropriate?"

"Nothing fancy, just a family restaurant type of place if that's okay."

"That sounds perfect," said Amanda. "I'll go get ready and see you when you get here." Before he could answer, she added, "I've missed you Sean."

"The feeling is mutual, Mrs. Wallace. I'll see you in a few minutes. Bye."

Amanda was smiling so brightly that every adult in the meeting room noticed her reaction and many of the girls as well. Once she had confirmed with Geri that the agents were comfortable working with the church volunteers to get the girls back to their rooms and prepared for bed, she excused herself and headed upstairs to get ready for Sean's arrival.

Sean had to show his driver's license and room key to two Atlanta police officers and one additional I.C.E. Agent before being allowed into the hotel lobby. Chatting briefly with each officer he met to introduce himself and make certain that everyone understood the situation, Sean was satisfied that the exterior of the hotel was secure for the night. Entering the lobby and noticing that the clerk at the front desk was not serving another guest, Sean approached him with his own request.

"Good evening," Sean said. "Can you make certain that there is fresh coffee available all night for the agents watching the outside of the hotel?"

Dave Bingham glanced up from the computer screen on the counter and replied,"Coffee is generally only provided complimentary to our guests sir. However, I think your gesture is admirable, so I will speak to the guest who left her credit card on file for incidental charges to see if she would agree to pay for the coffee. After all, the agents are there protecting the girls she has taken responsibility for. I don't think she'll have any issue with your idea."

"Who is paying for any incidental charges?" asked Sean.

"I'm sorry sir, but I cannot share that information with you. We take the privacy of our guests very seriously. Are you a guest here?"

"Yes I am, and I can appreciate your policy, but I must insist that if there are any charges related to the group of young ladies who registered this afternoon, their chaperones, or anything else in support of them - that I will cover them." Without waiting for a reply, Sean placed his debit card on the counter and slid it towards Bingham. "If you need something more than my word on that, use this."

"Sir, I really would need to check with the other guest..." Bingham stammered.

"If the guest in question is the beautiful young lady with the Australian accent, I'll explain things to her when I get up to our room. Had I been here instead of being detained in meetings, I could have handled it personally and saved her the trouble. In any event, please make certain that all charges levied against her credit card get removed immediately. Use my card if necessary." Sean tapped the card on the counter to draw Bingham's attention to it.

As Bingham picked up the card to inspect it, his eyes fell onto the name embossed on it and then immediately returned to Sean's face. "Sean Wallace?"

"That's right," said Sean. "And unless I'm mistaken, Mrs. Wallace is the other guest that you have been referring to. Is that right?"

Bingham quickly retrieved the accounting records from earlier and saw that the American Express card for Amanda Wallace had been used to secure the rooms and incidental charges that he had presented to her through Mrs. Adams. Bingham then checked the room registrations and confirmed that Sean and Amanda Wallace were indeed sharing room 301 together.

"You are correct Mr. Wallace. Would you like me to cancel out all the charges?"

"Don't do that because it would create an accounting headache at this point. Simply do as I asked and transfer the charges from her card to mine and keep it on file for any additional charges that may come up - such as for the coffee I requested a few minutes ago."

"Yes sir, I'll take care of it immediately." Bingham swiped Sean's debit card and began the accounting changes he had requested.

"Thanks," said Sean. "If there is anything else that the agents or the girls need, but especially if there are any further requests from Mrs. Wallace, I would appreciate it if you make certain that they are responded to promptly, professionally, and without delay. Can you do that for me?"

"Of course. I apologize to you for any misunderstanding, and I will apologize to Mrs. Wallace as well," said Bingham.

"That's very gracious of you, but I'm sure that she would agree that apologies are not necessary as long as the girls and all other guests receive the service they deserve. Is there anything that I can do to support your efforts to provide the highest level of service?" Sean asked.

"No sir. Now that I understand the situation, we'll be on top of things from here on out. Thank you though." Bingham handed Sean's card back to him.

Sean took the card and then shook Bingham's hand before heading to the elevators. He was distracted by loud, joyful squeals coming from a room farther down the hall. He suspected that he knew the cause, but went to investigate whether his suspicions were correct. Upon reaching the open doors to the meeting room, he saw that the noise was in fact the cumulative excitement of twenty-five young girls and the adults present who were stoking their joyful exuberance.

Sean stood at the door for several minutes simply watching the girls as they compared various items of clothing and started gathering their own possessions together in preparation for returning to their rooms. Before the stampede to the rooms began, Sean retreated back to the elevators and rode alone up to the third floor as he read a text message from Kyle Mason informing Sean that he would be sending him detailed information on Tri-Star Partners tomorrow or the next day. Apparently, Kyle felt that there was more to the story than could be covered in a summary.

As he got closer to room 301 with the knowledge that he was thus getting closer to Amanda, Sean realized that his pulse was increasing with the anticipation of being in her presence once more. Upon opening the door to room 301, Sean was disappointed that Amanda wasn't there to greet him. Once he had completely entered the room he noticed that the door connecting this suite to room 303 was open, which surprised him since Mickey had departed for his cabin already. Walking over to the door between the rooms, he heard the shower running in room 303 and was just about to call out his presence when Amanda stuck her head around the bathroom door and smiled at him.

"I somehow sensed that you were here," she told him. "The air around me seemed to become charged suddenly, and somehow I just knew it was because you were near."

"Naw," teased Sean, although he felt the same sense of comforting energy when he was around her. "It's probably just the electrical storm outside creating static in here or something." Even as he said the words, Sean knew that if the time came when the sight of Amanda didn't make his own pulse evident to him, he would know that he was dead.

Dismissing the denial of his effect on her, Amanda said, "I thought that since Mickey wasn't coming back tonight that I would use her bedroom in case you wanted to shower or anything when you came back. I'll just be a few minutes more."

"If you can stand being around me," Sean said, "I would rather wait until we get back from dinner to take a shower. I'm starving right now."

"No worries. I'll be ready shortly and we can go."

Sean was too anxious to sit and rest. Pacing around his hotel room, he noticed nothing belonging to Amanda. Listening to the shower, Sean went to the adjoining door and examined Mickey's room. He wasn't interested in whether anything remained of Mickey's belongings, but he was curious to learn if Amanda may have placed any items in the room that would indicate her intentions relative to their sleeping arrangements for the night. Her computer was sitting on the desk across the room, and all the packages that Amanda had apparently purchased on her excursion were lined against one wall. The shapes of the bags led him to believe they contained clothing articles of one type or another, but whether they were for Amanda or the girls, was not obvious.

Knowing that Mickey would not be returning, had Amanda really made a decision to use her room instead of sharing one with Sean? There was no indication that Amanda had accepted his room as her own.

Hearing the shower turn off, Sean retreated back into his own room and tried to find something to busy himself with. He chose to sit at the table and review e-mails on his cell phone while waiting for Amanda to come out of the bathroom and join him. All of his senses were so tuned to anticipating Amanda that he didn't comprehend a single word he read in any of the e-mails that he reviewed.

When she stepped through the adjoining door into his room, it was like a sunrise to Sean. Her presence foretold of unknown promise while at the same time, dispelling the darkness that he felt when she wasn't with him. She had changed into a red cable-knit cotton sweater, khaki pants, and red loafers. Her hair was in a French braid and she wore clear lip gloss as her only make-up of note.

Amanda smiled at Sean, but made no move towards him as she said, "Sorry to keep you waiting. I had hoped to be ready by the time you got here, but I was helping to get Mickey's stuff packed for the agent that she sent to pick it up."

Sean remained focused on his cell phone in an effort to hide his disappointment when he replied, "No problem. Do you need help moving anymore of your things into her room?"

Amanda had lost her smile, but she tried to keep her voice pleasant, "I think I've got everything. Are you ready to go to dinner?"

Rising from his chair and placing his cell phone into his pocket, Sean said, "Sure," as he walked to the door and held it open for her. Amanda stepped out and waited for Sean before taking up position beside him as they walked down the corridor. She resisted the urge to take Sean's hand as they walked side by side to the elevator, and the effort nearly brought tears to her eyes.

It took all of his self-restraint, but Sean respected the distance that Amanda apparently wanted to maintain between them, deciding that his fears of her being committed to someone else were probably true. He contemplated how he would be able to keep his side of their conversation during dinner up-beat at the same time that he felt the ache in his chest beginning to grow like a fever preparing to consume him.

The lobby of the hotel was empty as they walked through it and out into the parking lot. The rain had ended temporarily, with the clouds allowing brief glimpses of stars as they drifted past in the nighttime skies. Sean led Amanda to his car and opened the passenger door for her. She climbed in and immediately slid over to open Sean's door for him from the inside. By the time Sean had settled behind the wheel, Amanda had her seat belt fastened and was waiting patiently for Sean to pull out of the parking spot.

Speaking the first words from either of them since leaving the room, Amanda asked, "Where did you decide on for dinner?"

"I noticed a steak house a couple of exits down the freeway that I thought you might like to try." Sean was proud that his voice sounded normal - to his own ears at least.

Amanda simply said "Okay," and then decided to find a safe topic of conversation. She began to tell Sean about her excursion with Samuel, including the fiasco at the American Express office, her shopping at the White Spot Uniform store, and the details about getting all of the purchases back to the hotel. While she told him about the volunteers and how Samuel and his wife had jumped in to help out with the girls and their plans for tomorrow, Sean noticed that she avoided mentioning her conversation with Bryce Pierre or the charges at the hotel that she had covered.

Amanda was so focused on limiting the topics of her conversation that she didn't notice the name of the steak house until they had walked in and were greeted by the hostess, a tall attractive black girl with the whitest teeth Amanda had ever seen.

"Good evening. Welcome to Outback Steakhouse."

She turned to Sean, smiled and said, "Very clever Mr. Wallace."

Sean just smiled back at her and requested a booth as far away from the bar as possible. The various sporting events on the TV's were being watched by about a half dozen young men drinking beers and boisterously commenting on the games. Sean noticed how each of the men stared at Amanda as they followed the hostess to their table. Sean didn't know how his conversation with Amanda would go, but he wanted them to be able to hear each other while they had it.

Amanda took a seat in the booth, with Sean seating on the bench across from her. The hostess asked if they would like to order drinks to start with. Sean indicated that Amanda should go first as he checked a text message that had just come up on his cell phone.

"Do you carry 'Foster's'?" she asked.

"Of course," said the hostess with a giggle. "Everyone tries to order Foster's by using an Australian accent, but I must say that yours is the best I've heard."

"I'm grateful," said Amanda, "Since I'm actually from Australia."

"How wonderful. Welcome to America."

"Thank you," said Amanda.

Sean ordered Johnny Walker Black and soda as he put his cell phone back into his pocket.

"Oh that sounds even better," said Amanda. "Could I change my order to the same?"

"Of course," said the hostess. She left to fill their orders.

Sean smiled at Amanda and said, "Beer and wine are recreational, but Scotch is therapeutic."

"Another message from Mickey?" Amanda asked after she stopped laughing.

"No, that was Karen letting me know she made it home okay."

"I've been meaning to ask you where Karen fits in. You said that she flew in to discuss business with you, but I thought you hadn't planned on getting back to business until this morning. The timing is confusing for me," said Amanda.

"Karen isn't involved with Wallace Enterprises. She is sort of the Chief Research Officer for a company I own that is totally separate from all my other businesses."

Sean saw their waitress returning to the table, so he said, "I'll explain it to you after we order."

After receiving their drinks and placing their orders, Sean continued, "When I turned 18, I inherited the trust funds which both of my grandfathers had established for me. I had no immediate need for the money because my father was still paying for my education and supporting me, so it just sat in the bank collecting interest. When I had been in the Corp for a few years, I met a guy who used to be in the Air Force who had started a company focused on biomedical research involving neurotoxins. He had originally developed them for military applications, but found several medical and commercial applications for them as well. Anyway, a couple of years later when he was about to get discharged from the Air Force, he was asked to take a role within the government that would have presented him with a conflict where his company was concerned, so I bought it from him."

"Okay," said Amanda, "but why keep it separate from the rest of Wallace Enterprises?"

"Two reasons. First, the nature of the company's business was too divergent from the rest of our operations for it to fit in any logical organizational structure. With the government contracts being such a major part of this other company's business, my father felt that the hoops we would have to jump through with the rest of the companies if we brought this new one in would be too burdensome. Secondly, because of the public disclosure requirements faced by any company doing business with the government, I actually created a couple of 'shell' corporations to hide the fact that I was the owner of the company. Integrating it into Wallace Enterprises would have defeated those efforts."

"So Karen works for this other company that you own?"

"In a fashion. Karen received her doctorate from M.I.T. Before she married Kyle, Karen worked for the government as a Director within the Department of Science and Technology at the CIA. One of her projects there had just received approval for implementation when she resigned to marry Kyle, so the government was looking for a facility to continue her research and my company came to their attention. Karen is getting things set up so that her day-to-day involvement won't be necessary after the baby is born. The company is based in the panhandle of Florida, which is one of the reasons why I have been 'hibernating' at the cabin. Karen and I could meet while she was there without either of us having to drive more than a couple of hours."

Amanda had several questions that she wanted to ask about this other company, but she had more immediate concerns where Sean was concerned. She had to know if they had the future together that she sensed they did.

Amanda and Sean looked at each other in silence for a moment, both sensing that the other had something to say. Amanda took the initiative by asking, "Sean, why did you neglect your company for all these months? We both know that you didn't go into hibernation because of a broken heart."

"No," agreed Sean. "The situation with Kimberly just made it easier and helped me decide on the time to step away rather than being the reason for it. I guess I just needed to get my head and my heart around how I could make Wallace Enterprises my company rather than merely running the company that my parents had built. Don't get me wrong; I am proud of what my parents created and will never do anything to dishonor them or their visions for the company, but I knew that if I was to derive the same passion from the company as my parents, that I had to put my own soul into it, and I had to do some soul searching to determine what exactly that might entail."

"What did you discover?" asked Amanda.

"My mark on the company will be in how we embrace our corporate and social responsibilities in everything we do. For example, I have plans mandating that anyone in the company with marketing responsibilities as part of their job will be expected to volunteer a minimum number of hours each year writing grant requests for select non-profits. Wallace Enterprises cannot and should not fund every worthy cause, but we can help the right groups with their fund raising efforts through the volunteer work of our employee talent. I also have the basis for a plan where every one of our retail operations will donate an amount equal to the sales tax from every purchase to charities with tie-ins to their specific business focus. Wilderness Outfitters is a recreational equipment retail operation, so they will be responsible for donations to the Special Olympics, and other organizations providing adaptive access to outdoor activities to the physically or mentally disabled. That's just an example."

"I would love to hear more about these ideas, Sean. They sound like they would match my own objectives for how I want Wallace Holdings to act in our daily business. Will you share them with me in greater detail some time?"

Sean had known that Amanda would understand and appreciate his vision, but hearing the worship in her voice took his own away, so he just nodded to her in response.

Amanda smiled at him and asked, "How was the rest of your day?"

Sean thought about his words before responding, "Confusing."




Heavy Traffic Ch. 07



"The interrogation caused confusion for you?" asked Amanda.

Sean shook his head and confessed, "No, thoughts of you caused me confusion."

Amanda didn't say anything, but simply waited for Sean to elaborate on his statement. Her patience was rewarded when he continued, "Since my parents died, I have been a very autonomous person, self-contained and self-reliant. This wasn't necessarily by choice, but due to my expectations of others never being met. When you started me talking about my hibernation this morning, I realized that for some time now I have felt like I was trying to put a jigsaw puzzle together using only the memory of the picture in my mind, or maybe what I imagined the picture to be. When I'm with you, it's like you're pointing out all the edge pieces to the puzzle, putting the corners in the right places, and making the picture perfectly clear for me. This morning, I was intent on returning to run the family business alone, but spending time with you today has made me reconsider those plans. Talking about myself has never been a strong suit for me Amanda, but you made it seem as natural as breathing, yet at the same time, I know so little about you. That dichotomy alone confuses me."

Amanda nodded in understanding but didn't interrupt Sean as he continued to gaze into her eyes and speak, "When you left on the bus with the girls and I was driving to the hotel alone, I began to wonder about how long you would remain in the US before returning to Australia. I don't even know if you're married, engaged, if you have someone special waiting for you or are in a committed relationship, but when thinking these thoughts, my heart actually wept."

Sean took a drink of his Scotch, waiting to see if Amanda would say anything, but when she simply held his gaze, he relented and continued, "Knowing nothing about your situation beyond what Mickey discovered, as well as what you told me about your involvement with the orphanage, I am confused on how to act, and what to even hope for where you are concerned. I know that I couldn't pursue anything romantic with you if you were involved with someone else, but when I look into your eyes I can feel the richness, the force, and the permanence that convinces me that I can always trust you. All I know is that I don't want to be that other guy - the guy without you in his life. I'm prepared to adopt you if that's what it takes for me to keep you in my life."

Amanda couldn't believe the look from the man before her. The sincerity, trust and love evident in Sean's eyes were all the proof any woman would ever need to know that she was worshipped by a man. Sean's voice dropped slightly in volume as he continued, "Amanda, I realize that you have only known me for a few hours, but in that short time I have come to believe that you are my 'happily ever after'. Then, what you arranged when you thought that my company was in financial difficulty was beyond amazing. I would understand you doubting my commitment to you after such a short time, but I pray that somehow you will give me an opportunity to prove it, to prove there could be an 'us'." 

Smiling briefly at Sean's words, Amanda became serious when she finally interrupted him, "Sean, I don't know what your financial situation is, but if there is anything more you need from me, please know that it would be given willingly to you."

Sean smiled, "Amanda, if what Mickey read is accurate, you have a net worth of around $300 million dollars, right?" Amanda shifted her gaze to her hands and merely nodded. Sean waited for her to raise her eyes to his again before saying, "Amanda, I try real hard to keep my net worth under $950 million. I don't want the added notoriety that would come from being a billionaire. While your gesture means more to me than you could ever know, I have already made arrangements to have all of your funds returned to you tomorrow."

"Can you cancel those arrangements?" Amanda asked.

"I could, but I see no reason for you to tie up your money..."

Amanda once again interrupted Sean, "Please listen to me first. Let me present my case to you before you decide."

Sean saw the anxiety in Amanda's expression and nodded for her to continue.

Amanda reached across the table and took Sean's hands into her own. It was the first time she had touched him since she had left on the bus. At the touch of her hands onto his, Sean felt the tightness in his chest immediately relax, the lights in the room turned their illumination only onto Amanda, and the entire world fell silent awaiting her sweet voice.

With obvious trepidation, she began "My brother told me when I was young that the blood in our bodies was blue, like the color of the veins visible through the skin. He had me convinced that the color of our blood changed only when it was exposed to the world outside our bodies. In some ways, I'm concerned that the meaning of the words inside me may change when I speak them, so please wait for me to finish so that I can be certain that what you hear is exactly what I mean to tell you."

Sean nodded for her to continue. She did so, "I was raised in a world of unconditional love by parents who provided me with the perfect example of soul mates sharing a life together. I witnessed my parents loving and caring for each other as if they were one single entity rather than two separate people. Until my brother died, I had always belonged. First, I was my parents' child - safe to explore life and where I fit into the world without concern for whether or not I had love, respect, and support being given to me unconditionally. Sean, I grew up knowing - not hoping or dreaming, but knowing with absolute certainty that there was someone out in the world that would provide me with the same loving and secure partnership that my parents had, and that I would be inextricably linked to this man for the rest of my life. After my parents died, I was my brother's sister - still secure in the knowledge that no matter what I did, how I failed, or what I needed, he was there for me. It was the loss of these 'anchors' to my life that led me to work at the orphanage. While I knew that there was still someone out there for me, I no longer had the confidence that would allow me to dream of finding him. But, miracle of miracles, like music on the edge of silence he found me, and there is no question in my heart or my mind that I belong with him. Before he found me, it's like my life was in black and white. Now it's in rich, vibrant color."

Sean felt his chest tightening once again at Amanda's revelation, but he just nodded and let her continue. He knew that he should pull his hands away from her, but he didn't want to lose the feel of her touch.

"So yes Sean, I am totally and completely committed to someone, and as long as he'll have me, I have every intention of spending the rest of my life as his partner, his lover, his friend, his wife, and his mate. Our strengths and weaknesses will mesh so completely that just like my parents, we will become more than the sum of our individual parts." While continuing to hold Sean's right hand, she released his left hand and reached into the right pocket of her pants. Returning her hand to the table, she shifted her left hand from his right and used it to take his left hand and pull it towards her. At the same time, she positioned her right hand to slide a Trinity rolling ring onto his ring finger. Sean felt the world shift on its axis.

As she rolled it over his knuckle and into place, she said with a grin "At the very least, I thought this would help us maintain our cover as husband and wife. If you're not comfortable with it, feel free to move it to your right hand. Where you wear it, or whether you choose not to wear it at all, know Sean that it is only a material representation of my commitment to you. I now know that you won't question how someone who has known another person for less than a day would be making a commitment such as I am making to you, making to 'us'. All I can tell you Sean is I just know. I knew it when I saw you for the first time in the cabin. I knew it when I took your hand. I knew it when I saw you fussing with your hair and I just had to cut it for you. Then, when you asked me to impersonate your wife, I knew at that moment that you knew it too. You might not have recognized it for what it is, but I can see in your eyes that you agree with me. We could never be happy with anyone else because we would always be looking for each other. Sean Wallace, you are my 'happily ever after' too."

Sean glanced from Amanda's eyes to the ring on his finger. "It's beautiful," is all he could say without his voice betraying his emotions, although he could feel the moisture growing in his eyes and knew that Amanda would be able to see it too. He squeezed her hands in his and was finally able to say, "I need to get one of these for you too, Mrs. Wallace."

Beaming, Amanda removed her left hand from Sean's right and reached into her other pocket. She brought her hand back and placed the matching ring in her size onto Sean's open palm. Without hesitation, he took her left hand into his and slid the ring onto her ring finger with deliberate and lingering tenderness.

They sat holding hands and just staring into each other's eyes until their meals were served. As Sean watched Amanda begin to cut into her steak he asked, "Does this mean that you have no intention of returning to Australia any time soon?"

"Sean, I am never going to go back to Australia, or anyplace else unless you are beside me," she replied. "Plus, I think our immediate focus needs to be on your company and on getting the girls settled here in America."

"Which reminds me." Sean said with a smile, "Why would you want me to cancel the arrangements to return your funds? I really do have more than enough money of my own."

Amanda finished chewing a bite of her salad before responding, "I think there are a couple of reasons why you should cancel the arrangements. First of all, using my funds shows everyone aware of the transaction that you and I are working together, just as a real husband and wife would do."

Sean was chewing his own bite of steak, so he just nodded for Amanda to continue. She was a bit more tentative with her next statement, "I also believe - believe with all my heart - that you and I are destined to partner in every conceivable fashion, and it is just a matter of time before that includes the consolidation of our two family business operations."

Diverting her eyes from his, she continued in a barely audible volume, "I don't want any of your money Sean, and I'll sign any sort of agreement you want protecting all your assets, but nothing I own has any value to me without me being able to share it with you. I hope you can understand and accept that."

"Amanda, I realize now that from the moment I met you, I started considering everything I have as ours."

He slid his plate across the table, Amanda being forced to move her own plate over to accommodate his. Picking up his utensils, he rose and slid into the bench beside her on the same side of the table. Amanda watched silently as Sean took his position next to her, but she was certain that he would be able to hear the sound of her pulse as it began beating at an increased tempo as soon as his hips touched hers and pushed her farther into the booth.

Ignoring her meal, Amanda turned to Sean as he put his arm around her shoulder and drew her tightly against his body. Instinctively, she raised her lips to meet his as her hands found first his face, and then as their lips parted and their tongues danced with each other, she moved her fingers into his hair and caressed him with all the love and tenderness she could convey through her touch.

Their first kiss was an extended exploration and awakening for them as a couple. It left them wanting more of each other, but confident that there was no longer any need for urgency. They had the rest of their lives together.

***

Tom Folsom waited until he and Kimberly were in the rental car and exiting the Atlanta airport before discussing anything business related. "We better start recalling everything we know about Sean Wallace. I-Bar is going to want every detail we can provide."

"The sad thing is," began Kimberly, "DeMarcus probably knows as much about Sean as I do. He was always so protective of his privacy and shared so little about himself that just about everything I know about him was learned from others or divulged by Sean grudgingly. How about you? His father must have told you stuff about him from time to time. He was very proud of Sean after all."

"He was proud of him, but the details were usually pretty sparse - almost like he was trying to protect Sean's privacy like you mentioned. I remember right after I started the intern program with the company, Sean's dad called me into his office for some reason and after our discussion, he stood by the table in his office that held the wooden chess set that he cherished. I never saw him play chess, but the pieces would change position from time to time and he told me on this day that he was playing through the mail with his son who was in the Marines. He bragged about the fact that the chess set has been given to him by Sean, and that his son had carved each of the pieces by hand and build the chess board from wood he had harvested himself. He then pointed to the picture of Sean in his Marine dress uniform that was always on his desk and proudly stated that Sean had never lost a tournament. When I asked where Sean was stationed, his father told me that he traveled around the world to different US Embassies teaching other Marines."

"And you assumed the tournaments that his father was talking about were chess tournaments?" asked Kimberly.

"Sure, what else could they have been?"

"Tom, even I could beat Sean in chess."

"Then what kind of tournaments do you think his father was referring to?" asked Folsom.

"I'm not sure, but I did hear the occasional rumor about Sean being some sort of World Champion, and there was always some secret concerning him and an encounter with a bear. Whenever people would start to joke about it, Sean or some other member of his family would shut them down."

"A bear?" chuckled Folsom. "He probably got frightened by one once and messed his pants. It's the embarrassment from that which people are trying to keep secret."

"The Sean Wallace I knew never gave the impression that he was afraid of anything. Sure, he was mild mannered and trusting to a fault, but he was very confident at the same time."

Folsom was shaking his head, "Only a weak, insecure pussy would walk away from a woman like you without putting up a fight. Pushing around Mark Morris in a restaurant doesn't raise Sean Wallace to the level of strong and confident in my opinion."

"He can walk on his fingers..." said Kimberly.

"What?" asked Folsom, not certain that he had heard her right.

"Sean Wallace can walk on his fingers. I don't mean simply doing a hand stand or walking on his hands. I spied on one of his workouts once without him knowing it and watched him walking on the tips of his fingers like it was the most natural thing in the world. Do you know anyone else strong enough to walk on the tips of their fingers?"

Folsom thought for a minute. "Not off the top of my head, but I'm sure that there are lots of circus performers or gymnasts who can do it. Besides, physical strength means nothing without the will and ability to use it. As far as I'm concerned, him walking on his fingers is about as useful in life as someone being able to run a marathon. I'll mention it to I-Bar though. He'll love that one."

Kimberly didn't respond to that comment. She didn't want to think about what DeMarcus Steele 'loved' until she had to. "What about after Sean returned and you started working for him instead of his father?" she asked.

"Not much there either. Right after he came back from the Marines, Sean started his Masters program at Vanderbilt and let me and the other vice presidents run things for the most part. I know he trusted Keith Longo and Marilyn Turner since he had known them for years, and I guess he just trusted his father's judgment where I was concerned. I knew he kept an eye on me and always viewed me as a sycophant where his father was concerned, so I never gave him any reason to doubt my loyalty. He does know his business, but I never thought he had the balls to turn his ideas into reality in a competitive business environment."

"I will advise you again not to underestimate Sean," said Kimberly. She then fell silent as they reached their destination. God she hated this place.

Folsom pulled the rental car around the long circular drive leading to I-Bar's riverfront mansion. The house sat along the eastern shore of the Chattahoochee River on the western expanse of metro Atlanta in an opulent neighborhood consisting of some of Atlanta's most influential and wealthiest residences. The bankers, doctors, lawyers, and professional athletes who shared this neighborhood had less in common with DeMarcus Steele than an apple has in common with a fire truck. Colors might match occasionally, but that is where the similarities would end.

The front of the mansion was lined with multiple large SUV's - the vehicle of choice for the gang banger with discriminating taste - and their presence, as well as the loud hip-hop music emanating from the house, told Tom and Kimberly that I-Bar was playing host to some people that they would both rather avoid spending time with, especially Kimberly.

Folsom parked the car around the side by the garages. He didn't open the car door for Kimberly - best for her to start getting into her role before they entered the house. She followed behind Tom as he led them up the paved walkway from the garages to the front door. His knock was answered almost immediately by one of I-Bar's enforcers, who informed Tom that he was expected in I-Bar's office. Folsom headed for the stairs as Kimberly came into the foyer behind him, sank to her knees and bowed her head to avoid looking in the eyes of any of the men in the house and assuming the submissive pose that she knew DeMarcus would demand of her for the duration of her time in his house. She hoped that Tom and DeMarcus would be talking for hours, because she knew that as soon as DeMarcus was done with Tom, he would come for her.

Folsom knew the way to I-Bar's office and was looking forward to getting into it, if for no other reason than to escape the loud music blasting from speakers throughout the house. As he approached the door to the office, I-Bar's bodyguard Q-Tip opened the door for him to enter, and immediately closed it as he passed through.

The sound proofing of the office was amazing. Even the heavy bass beats from the music in the house were not evident in this room. DeMarcus Steele was leaning back in a chair at his desk wearing a powder blue workout suit with the University of North Carolina logo over the left breast. His medium length hair was straightened, slicked back and shiny with the gel that held it in place. He twirled a studded dog collar around the fingers of his right hand as he motioned for Folsom to take a seat.

"Did you bring my pet with you?"

Folsom glanced at the collar spinning around I-Bar's fingers and nodded. "She's waiting for you in the usual place."

"I'll get to her later," I-Bar said. "You and I need to talk first."

DeMarcus Steele could turn his 'Gangsta' persona on and off as circumstances warranted, but he generally kept it up while at home and when talking with Folsom unless there were other people present that he wanted to appear more professional and business like in front of. When they were younger, the homies in their gang used to say that I-Bar only knew six words, as long as you counted 'Mother Fucker" as two of them. The fact that he had abandoned his street identity for this discussion did not bode well as far as Folsom was concerned.




Heavy Traffic Ch. 07



"You fucked up Tom. I had a nice, simple arrangement to move some valuable merchandise and you made some side deal without telling me. A side deal that now places my business arrangement in jeopardy as well as bringing heat to our other ventures."

"I did tell you I-Bar," countered Folsom. "We discussed it last week when I was telling you that I had that redneck Sheriff in our pocket after this deal in case we ever needed him in the future. Maybe it wasn't clear to you what was involved, but I never hid anything from you. We had an opportunity to net an additional twenty grand by selling a woman that you would have had to waste anyway. It was a sound decision and I stand by it. I don't know where it fell apart, but it looks like just dumb bad luck or coincidences working against us."

"You make your own luck, Tom. Good or bad. Let me tell you where you screwed up so you can tell me how you plan to fix things. First of all, you delegated too much to people you didn't know in circumstances that you knew nothing about. Allowing that Sheriff to make arrangements related to the woman without you knowing about them was plain-ass dumb. Can you tell me that if you knew that he had told those film guys that they could use a cabin owned by some lawyer named Parker that you wouldn't have questioned it? It sure raised some flags for you once you found out about it, didn't it?"

Folsom remained silent and just nodded.

"Then, when you suspected that there might be problems, you called this Sheriff and told him to check things out, right?" Folsom nodded again.

"Using your own cell phone." This wasn't a question. Folsom just nodded again.

"You never heard back from the Sheriff did you?" asked I-Bar. This time Folsom shook his head.

"The reason you never heard back from him is because the stupid bastard drove right into a swarm of Federal officers who were investigating the situation at Parker's cabin. How do you think the Feds found out about anything?"

I-Bar didn't wait for an answer, "I don't know how they found out either, but it appears that your little side deal was with some guys who are not citizens of the US of A, and the Feds are using this as justification to take things over."

"Do the Feds have the film crew too?" asked Folsom.

"In a manner of speaking," said I-Bar. "The Feds have three unidentified prisoners under guard at the Naval Medical Center in Pensacola. Apparently all three are in critical condition with broken backs from some unknown cause."

"What about the woman?"

"Now that's the biggest mystery," said I-Bar. "No one I have checked with saw this woman or talked to her about what went on before the cabin or while there. My sources are looking for her, but she seems to have just vanished, which brings up the question of how anyone knew about her being there in the first place. So your second screw up is that you obviously had a leak somewhere."

"I don't see it, I-Bar. I dealt with the film guys only through the internet and with the Sheriff personally. No one else knew anything about this deal - except you of course. The film guys wouldn't set themselves up, and the Sheriff wouldn't have walked into the scene you described if he knew anything about it. Someone must have stumbled upon them by accident."

"Who?" asked I-Bar?

"I don't know," said Folsom, "but there have been too many coincidences today involving Sean Wallace for my liking. He owns property close by Parker's cabin, and Parker is a partner in the law firm that represents Wallace Enterprises. Then there are the arrangements that Wallace had his assistant make to fly Parker home early and his sudden interference with Tri-Star over the management of Wallace Enterprises."

"Do you know where Wallace is now?"

Folsom nodded enthusiastically and said, "I do. He's about 10 miles from here at one of our hotel properties near Six Flags. I think your shipment of girls is there at the same hotel."

DeMarcus sat up straight in his chair and reached for the phone on his desk. "What's the name of the hotel? I'll send some people by to check it out."

Folsom gave him the details and started breathing easier. If I-Bar could vent his anger on Sean Wallace, then he and Kimberly stood a chance of surviving the night.

After dispatching two of his people to visit the hotel and report back on what they found there, DeMarcus returned his attention back to Folsom. "You've put me in a tough spot, Blo¬Pop. That Sheriff knows you by name, so if he talks to the Feds, they'll not only be after your ass, but they'll figure out that you and I have been working together - if not on this deal - at least through the Tri-Star agreement. If they start snooping around Tri-Star business, then all hell is going to break loose."

"You know I would stand up, I-Bar..." Folsom began.

"Dat wouldn't matter," snarled I-Bar. "The Feds don't need you confessin or nuttin in order for dem to start diggin shit up on der own based just on the fact that you and me knows each udder." The transformation from business professional to Gangsta had begun.

"The agreement between Wallace Enterprises and Tri-Star is legal, so what are you worried about?" asked Folsom.

"Sheeeet Blo-Pop, use your fuckin head. It don't matter whether it be legal or not. It matter that it involve your ass, and dem Feds will start zamminin anyting dat you ben doin to tryta fine more charges ginst you. Day start pullin on da string to see what day can unravel. Tri-Star unravel and none of us be breathin."

"That possibility exists whether I am alive or not," offered Folsom. He needed I-Bar to see that keeping him around was more valuable than killing him. "I can at least try to distract their focus from anything to do with Tri-Star. With me gone, they will naturally start looking deeper than they would if I was still available to them."

Folsom saw another transformation taking place with I-Bar as he replied, "You make good points, as always Tom. Let me think on the situation for awhile and we can talk further. Maybe I can get the girls back and eliminate them as evidence at the very least. I've already made arrangements for the Sheriff, and if we take out Sean Wallace, then there is one less point of resistance to the Tri-Star agreement and less motivation for the Feds to look into it."

Folsom just nodded.

"Your usual bedroom is waiting for you. I'll send for you when I want to discuss this further."

Folsom recognized his dismissal and promptly left the office and headed for the assigned bedroom. His path took him along the upstairs mezzanine that provided a view to the foyer below. He saw Kimberly still in her submissive pose and hoped to himself that I-Bar didn't take too much of his anger out on her tonight.

Through her downturned eyes, Kimberly saw Tom walking across the mezzanine towards the bedrooms and knew that her torment was about to begin. She had recognized years earlier with Tom that she enjoyed breaking the social mores that her strict parents had lived by. This is why the dare from her friends and her subsequent sexual relationship with Tom had thrilled her so much. She also recognized that she enjoyed the power that she had over men when she 'gave' herself to them sexually. She loved feeling how her body and her actions determined their responses, so no matter how kinky they wanted to get, she knew that she still held the power.

DeMarcus Steele was different though. What he did to her was sheer cruelty, plain and simple. He made no secret of his contempt for her as a white woman, and took all of his pleasure solely from her humiliation at his hands. He never sought sex from her for himself, but he reveled in making her do the most depraved acts for him to watch. As soon as he put the dog collar and leash around her neck, he would have her crawl on her hands and knees, barking like a dog until he found his first act of humiliating torment for her. In the past, he had her do everything from kissing his shoes to cleaning the dirty anus of every other man in the room with her tongue. She had been urinated on too many times to count, made to perform oral sex on a dog, and forced to eat the excrement of her host while he squatted over her face calling her 'his bitch'.

She couldn't understand why Tom would ever allow DeMarcus to treat her the way he did, and while she had asked several times, she had never received an answer. As DeMarcus descended the stairs and approached her, she knew that any answer would be too little and too late for her now.

***

Sean could not remember a better meal in his life, and he didn't even taste his food. The act of transferring items from his plate to his mouth, chewing and swallowing were all performed without conscious thought as he kept revelling in her announcement that not only was Amanda not involved with someone else, but she had professed her commitment to HIM.

For her part, Amanda felt freer than she had ever felt. She had bared her soul to the man that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with, and he had literally glowed in response. There was no mistake or mystery any longer on how Sean felt about her, and knowing this, her fears of earlier were completely dispelled and she was able to bask in the promise of their future together.

Then there was that kiss. It did so much more than ease her concerns and seal Sean's acceptance of their future together. It spoke to passions and possibilities for them as lovers that took her breath away simply thinking of them. Amanda knew that there was nothing that she would not do for her man, and the sooner that she could started proving that to both of them, the happier she would be.

They both resisted the urge to continue much of their conversation, deciding to focus on finishing their meal so that they could return to the hotel and be alone. Satisfying their physical hunger as quickly as possible and declining dessert, they were out of the restaurant and heading back to the hotel within thirty minutes. Sean saw the black SUV with tinted windows circling the hotel as they approached, but he also saw that it had been noticed by several of the Atlanta police officers watching the hotel and realized that they were communicating its description and status to the others, so he didn't give it much more thought as he pulled into a parking spot and hurried around to open Amanda's door. He made a point of keeping his body between the SUV and Amanda as they walked into the hotel however.

Latoya Adams was at the front desk as Sean and Amanda entered the lobby. She waved at them as they walked to the elevator and they smiled in return. Sean wondered if the two of them looked as much like a couple as he felt that they were right then. As they stepped off the elevator onto the third floor, Amanda turned to Sean, "I want to check on the girls real quick." Handing him her cell phone, she continued, "Will you please put this in the room for me?"

"No problem," Sean said. "I'll be waiting for you."

Amanda smiled, gave him a quick kiss on the lips, and headed down the hall in the opposite direction from their rooms. Sean proceeded to room 301, opened the door and placed both his and Amanda's cell phones onto the table. He had just finished taking off his shoes when one of their cell phones rang.

Retrieving the ringing phone, Sean answered, "Hello?"

A strange male voice said, "Hello, is Amanda Wallace there?"

"She's not available right now," Sean said. "Can I take a message for her?"

"Is this Mr. Wallace?"

"Yes," answered Sean without hesitation.

"Mr. Wallace, my name is Jim Hale with the Methodist Home of Atlanta. Could you please tell Mrs. Wallace that I have explored all of the options available to me and I can simply find no way that we would be able to accommodate twenty five young girls at this time."

"Amanda wants the Methodist Home to care for these girls?" Sean asked.

"Yes, but as I said, there is no way that our current facilities and staff would be able to assume that many more children. We are already over our licensed limit as it is..."

"Mr. Hale, I don't mean to cut you off, but you're wasting your time arguing the matter. If Amanda wants the Methodist Home to take responsibility for these girls and to provide care and shelter for them, then that is exactly what will happen, I can assure you. The only question you have to answer is whether or not you are part of the eventual solution or if someone else takes your place."

Jim Hale spoke in a voice that was remarkably sedate considering the tone and context of the message that Sean had just delivered, "Mr. Wallace, I admire your devotion to your wife's cause, but please understand that you cannot make things happen just because you want them to. What good would it be for these girls to be placed onto mats on a floor because beds were not available for them, or for them not to have enough food to eat or clothes to wear?"

Sean calmed his tone and replied, "Mr. Hale, you don't know me but perhaps you know Pastor Steves at the Johns Creek Methodist Church?"

"Yes, I know Pastor Steves."

"As soon as we hang up, I will call and arrange for a meeting tomorrow morning at 11am with Pastor Steves to discuss this matter, and I suggest that you contact him this evening to see if you can join us. I can't emphasize this enough to you Mr. Hale, if Amanda wants the Methodist Home to care for these girls, I will move Heaven and Earth to make it a reality. Good evening."

Sean disconnected the call, set Amanda's phone back on the table and picked up his own. He browsed through his contact list until he found the number he was looking for and then hit 'dial'. He chuckled to himself about having to look up his own home phone number. His grandmother answered on the second ring.

"Hi Grandma."

"Sean! Where are you boy?"

"I'm down in Atlanta at a hotel, but I was hoping I could come by and see you tomorrow."

"Why are you staying at a hotel in Atlanta when you have a home right here in Johns Creek?"

"It's a long story Grandma, which I can't wait to tell you tomorrow. Could you arrange to meet me at the church around 11am and have Pastor Steves join us? Afterwards, I would like to take you to lunch. There's someone that I think you're going to want to meet and get to know."

"Oh Sean, now I'm not going to get a wink of sleep wondering about who you are bringing. At least tell me if it's a girl..."

Sean grinned at his Grandmother's comments and replied, "Okay Grandma, her name is Amanda and it's very important that we meet with Pastor Steves tomorrow morning at 11. Can you help us with that?"

"I'm sure that Pastor Steves will make himself available Sean. However, afterwards I want you to come to the house for lunch rather than going to a restaurant. I'll fix something special for you and your friend, then we can talk."

"Okay Grandma, thanks. We'll see you at the church at 11. I love you."

"I love you too Sean. Good night."

Placing his phone back onto the table, Sean began taking off his clothes. He didn't know how much longer Amanda would be out, but he wanted to get his shower started and he knew that she had a key to get in so she wouldn't need him to open the door for her. Tossing his clothes into his duffle bag, he selected a pair of gym shorts and carried them into the bathroom to put on after his shower.

As he showered, he contemplated how the evening had gone. It definitely had its emotional ups and downs for him. He recalled the despair he felt when he thought that Amanda might be committed to someone else, followed by the elation he experienced when he learned that HE was the one that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. His thoughts then ventured into a new and somewhat more troubling subject matter, and that was whether or not they should sleep together tonight.

Earlier, he had been excited about the possibility of sharing a bed with Amanda, but now the risks seemed omnipresent. They wanted to spend the rest of their lives together, so their first night together held much more significance for him as a result. As he thought about it, Sean felt that they needed to have a clear distinction between their physical desire for each other and the emotional commitment that they both professed to want. Sean also knew that he wanted to romance Amanda like he had never romanced another girl or woman in his life. He wanted her to know without any possible doubt that his physical desire for her was simply a worldly manifestation of his total, complete emotional and spiritual devotion to her.

It appeared that Amanda shared some of Sean's concerns. When he came out of the bathroom Amanda had returned. Sean could hear her in the adjoining room's bathroom preparing herself for bed. He stood at the door between their rooms waiting for her to appear, and when she did, she was wearing a thigh-length T-shirt as a nightgown. Her look when she saw him was kinetic. It carried an equal mixture of mischief, passion and intelligence. She smiled as she approached him, placed her arms around his neck and gave him a kiss.

"Are you ready for bed Mr. Wallace?"

Sean just nodded.

"Which room do you want to sleep in?" she asked.

"I think we should each sleep in different rooms tonight Mrs. Wallace."

The change in her demeanor was immediate and fierce, "Don't you dare!" she growled. 

"Don't you dare call me Mrs. Wallace and then cast me off into another room. As 'Mrs. Wallace', I will never sleep in a bed without you, so if your desire is to sleep alone, don't you dare associate me as your wife with those plans."

Amanda shoved Sean through the adjoining door and pushed it closed just short of latching. Sean stood in place for several minutes until he saw the lights in Amanda's room go out, then he went to his own bed and crawled under the covers. Her essence lingered all around him, and he knew that he should apologize to Amanda, but decided that she would understand his explanation better after a good night's sleep. He was contemplating how he would phrase it as sleep overtook him.



Heavy Traffic Ch. 08



One of their cell phones was ringing, but Sean didn't know which it was. Amanda jumped from her bed, entered Sean's room and answered it without regard for which of them it belonged to. Glancing at the clock beside the bed, Sean saw that it was only 3AM. Whether it was his phone or Amanda's that rang, any call at this time of the morning couldn't be good news. He propped the pillows behind his shoulders and leaned against the headboard waiting, and listening to Amanda as well as the thunderstorm outside the hotel.

"Hello Mickey," Amanda said once she realized who was calling. "No, I tried to get to the phone before it woke Sean. I couldn't tell whether it was my phone or his that was ringing. Just a moment and I'll give the phone to Sean."

As she crawled in bed beside him and handed him the phone, Amanda laid her head against his chest and put her arms around him. She too knew that the call could not be good news, and she wanted to hold Sean in preparation for what he was about to hear.

Sean took the phone in one hand and began running the fingers of his other hand through Amanda's hair. It was slightly tangled from her sleep, so he took great care to avoid any snags that might pull her hair and cause discomfort for her.

"What's up Mickey?" Sean asked once Amanda was settled.

"Sheriff Smith was killed tonight," Mickey announced without preamble. "He was being held in seclusion at his own County Jail, but when one of the US Marshals went to check on him about an hour ago he was found dead with a shank in his ear."

"Any ideas who got to him?" asked Sean.

"Not yet, but the only prisoner who had access to him is a 73 year old jail trustee with arthritic hands. The Marshals have reviewed surveillance videos and only saw one deputy approach the hallway to the Sheriff's cell. They can't see the deputy's face, but they can tell he is black, and there are not currently any African American deputies employed in the jail with the Seminole County Sheriff's Office."

"Did the Sheriff implicate anyone else before he was killed?" Amanda raised her head when Sean said this. He patted her head and she returned it to his chest.

"He was still working on a deal with the FBI and the US Attorney for his cooperation. A meeting was scheduled for the morning where the Sheriff was to be granted limited immunity for his testimony. There may be a leak in the investigation, or the leaders of this conspiracy could simply not be taking any chances with loose ends. The fact that the suspect is black points to the same group that the traders were going to meet with being involved in taking Sheriff Smith out."

"What about the film crew?" asked Sean.

"Their protection has been increased at the hospital, but they don't seem to be a threat based upon their lack of knowledge beyond the purchase of Amanda. All of their dealings were through the internet with an anonymous party and over the phone with Sheriff Smith." Mickey paused before continuing, "I told you earlier that Sheriff Smith had called the cell phone for the film crew after he had received a call from Tom Folsom. Later today Tom Folsom called the Sheriff's cell phone again, but when it was answered by one of the National Park Police officers, the call was immediately disconnected. This was followed within minutes by a call from Tom Folsom to the cell phone for the film crew. He again disconnected as soon as the same officer answered the phone."

"That pretty much seals the connection between Folsom and at least the sale of Amanda to the film crew. Is there anything to tie him to the shipment of girls?" asked Sean.

"Nothing solid yet," said Mickey. "When FBI agents went to Folsom's house this evening to question him, they found he wasn't home. A cursory check of flights out of Nashville tonight shows Tom Folsom and Kimberly Morris taking a flight to Atlanta. We have his rental car information, but so far we have not located them."

"That in itself seems to implicate Folsom further," said Sean.

"I agree," said Mickey. There was no way Mickey could think to sugar-coat what she next needed to say, "Sean, I want to take Amanda into protective custody."

Sean considered Mickey's position before answering. "I'll discuss it with Amanda, but I think we both know what her answer will be. After all, protective custody didn't work out so well for Sheriff Smith did it? Then there are the girls to consider. How safe do you think they are here in the hotel?"

Amanda was now sitting upright staring at Sean, listening intently to his one side of the conversation and trying to discern Mickey's comments from Sean's responses.

"I am making arrangements to move the girls to a secure I.C.E. detention center. It won't be as comfortable for them as the hotel, but I can guarantee their safety there. In the meantime, the hotel is going to receive even tighter security," said Mickey.

"Give me until the afternoon to make other arrangements for them," said Sean. "The girls are scheduled to spend the day at Six Flags with a large church group, so they should be safe there, especially since it is an unplanned and unscheduled event for them. I have a meeting in the morning that will hopefully provide us with some other alternatives than the detention center for the girls."

"That's not a problem. I wouldn't be able to make arrangements to move them before tomorrow evening, or I should say this evening at the earliest. Sean, Amanda is the bigger target. Don't let her venture out on her own again."

"I won't," Sean assured her as he reached over and stroked Amanda's arm. "Are you still planning on returning this afternoon?"

"Things are up in the air right now," said Mickey. "I'll keep you posted. Be careful Sean." 

"You too Mickey. Talk to you later."

Sean disconnected the call and set the phone on the nightstand beside the bed. "I don't suppose you want to try and get some more sleep?"

Amanda ran her fingers through Sean's hair, trying to smooth down the cowlick that his sleeping had produced. "I probably won't be able to get back to sleep, but I don't want to get out of bed yet. Do you mind lying here with me a little while longer?"

In response, Sean pulled her down beside him, returning her head to his chest. "This is where you belong. I'm sorry that I didn't realize that earlier. Did you hear enough of the conversation to get a gist for what is going on?"

Amanda kissed his chest and said, "I heard that the Sheriff of Seminole County was found murdered in his jail cell, that Tom Folsom is somehow implicated in the conspiracy, that Mickey is concerned for the safety of the girls and myself..."

"That about covers it," said Sean. "Mickey is most concerned about you. She wants to place you into protective custody."

"I heard your answer to her on that subject. Thank you. What ideas do you have for the girls? You mentioned something about a meeting this morning."

"That reminds me," Sean said as he grabbed his cell phone from the nightstand. "We need to figure out how to set different ringtones on our phones so we can tell which one is receiving a call. When you were checking on the girls earlier, I answered your phone by mistake and spoke with Jim Hale. He was calling to tell you that the Methodist Home was unable to accommodate the girls."

"We'll see about that," Amanda said in an indignant tone. "What did you tell him?"

Sean chuckled, and Amanda relished the feeling of this with her head against his chest. "I told him pretty much just that. Actually, what I told him was that if you wanted the Methodist Church to care for the girls, I would make it happen with or without his cooperation. I then called my grandmother and arranged to meet with her in the morning."

"Why your grandmother?"

"Because I think she would be the perfect person to head up the Amanda Wallace Foundation."

Amanda lightly slapped Sean's chest, "There is no Amanda Wallace Foundation."

"There will be. It will be dedicated to the rescue and care of victims of human trafficking, especially young girls."

"No Sean."

Sean reached down and raised Amanda off his chest and looked in her eyes. "Why not? I will fund it myself..."

Amanda placed her hands on Sean's cheeks to keep his eyes focused on her own.

"Then call it the Sean Wallace Foundation."

"I will fund it, but I don't want the notoriety of having a foundation in my name," said Sean. 

"Then please respect my privacy as well," said Amanda. "I love your idea, and will support your efforts with both money and time, but please find a different name for it."

Placing his hands on Amanda's face in a mirror image of hers on his, Sean said, "I'm sorry Amanda. I am not used to anyone being as sensitive about these things as I am. We can decide on a name for the foundation later. The important thing is to get it established and operational as soon as possible for the benefit of these girls."

"Thank you Sean. So why do you think your grandmother would be perfect to head up the foundation?"

"You'll see once you meet her. You remind me a lot of her, and I know that she is going to absolutely love you from the minute you two meet."

"Oh I hope so, Sean. Which side of your parentage is she from?"

"Which side of my parentage?" Sean laughed. "Did anyone ever tell you that you talk funny, with big words and all?"

Amanda laughed along with him and said, "Don't change the subject. You know what I meant, so answer the question."

"This grandmother is my mother's mother. My father's mother lives in my house outside of Nashville. Tennessee."

"How wonderful," said Amanda. "Both of your grandmothers are still alive. Do you think I'll get a chance to meet your other grandmother sometime?"

"Actually, if things go as I plan, we'll have lunch with Grandma Askew and dinner with Grandma Wallace."

"Do you plan on us going to Tennessee? I don't know if I would be comfortable being that far away from the girls until they are safe."

"I would never ask you to do that," said Sean. "Part of my plans includes insuring that the girls are safely housed in a comfortable setting where no one can harm them. I think secrecy will do more than anything else to accomplish that goal."

"How real do you think the danger to the girls is?"

"Without knowing who we are dealing with, it's difficult to say for certain. I did learn some interesting things from Mickey that make me believe that an organized gang, probably African American in makeup is likely behind the conspiracy we encountered."

"Please enlighten me," said Amanda.

"First of all, if you're not familiar with the Atlantic Slave Trade of the 1800's and the civil rights movement in America during the Sixties, some of the irony of what I am going to relate will be lost on you."

"Why is that?"

"Because while most people recognize that African Americans were originally brought to North America as slaves, what they don't realize is that it was other Africans who supplied the slaves to the European traders who eventually provided the transport. In pre-colonial and early colonial Africa, it was common practice for a victorious tribe to capture their enemies and kill every last one of them. Where their enemies could instead be sold into slavery, the victorious tribes would accomplish their objective of getting rid of the enemy, but now they could recognize a profit by doing so. Historians estimate that 90 percent of those shipped to the New World were enslaved by Africans and then sold to European traders."

"So the enslavement of Africans in America was a result of other Africans selling their captives for profit," said Amanda.

"As with any product, demand is what drove the supply. So, on one hand, the demand by Europeans contributed to the capture of slaves by other African tribes, but there is historical evidence to suggest that if those captured had not held value to their captures as slaves, they would have been killed. That very practice of killing an enemy in mass has deep roots in several African tribal cultures, and has been practiced as recently as this century when tens of thousands of people were slaughtered in Rwanda and the Congo by one side of a conflict or the other."

"I have difficulty understanding such a lack of respect for human life," said Amanda.

"Most people would agree with you, but there are hundreds of events throughout history where one group felt their enemies were sub-human and thus shown no mercy."

"Of course, you're right. Please continue."

Sean did so, "Atlanta is considered by some to be, if not the birthplace, at least the cradle of the American Civil Rights movement during the Sixties. Martin Luther King Jr. was from Atlanta, as were several other prominent leaders of the movement. Local and regional governments in the Atlanta area include several local African American leaders who have risen to admirable positions of authority and influence. In essence, African Americans have as much control and influence over the local government and daily life in Atlanta as anywhere in America."

"I don't mean to interrupt you Sean, but would you like some water or anything? I'm a bit thirsty myself."

"Water would be nice. Thanks Amanda."

Amanda went to the minibar and got them each a bottle of water. She unscrewed the top off one and handed it to Sean before crawling back into the bed beside him and resuming her position with her head on his chest. She was starting to consider this 'her spot'.

Sean took a couple of drinks from the water bottle and then continued, "Anyway, the irony I was referring to relates to the fact that Atlanta has a prominent leadership presence of a people whose ancestors were victims of slavery, yet Atlanta is known as the number one hub of human trafficking and child sex exploitation in the United States."

"Are you serious?" asked Amanda.

"Unfortunately, I am. All the evidence uncovered in our conspiracy so far points to a gang made up of African Americans from the Atlanta area being involved."

***

Tom Folsom wasn't able to sleep. The bedrooms of DeMarcus Steele's house were not soundproofed like his office was, but even if the loud music wasn't an issue, Folsom's mind was too preoccupied to allow for slumber.

He had bought himself a temporary reprieve with I-Bar, but if the heat started getting too close to home, Folsom had no doubt that I-Bar would kill him if for no other reason than self-gratification. Folsom knew his best chance at survival was to tell I-Bar that he was going to leave the country immediately, and then follow through on that pledge before I-Bar had a chance to reconsider. Folsom knew that he had to be careful though. He couldn't seem too eager to leave when his assistance might still be needed, but he also couldn't wait too long or he would miss his opportunity.

Then there was Kimberly to consider. He knew that she would follow him anywhere, but did he want the baggage that she represented? If he left her behind, she was as good as dead because I-Bar would consider her a liability. The fact that he already considered all white women as an inferior species to the black male would only make his decision quicker, but definitely no kinder for Kimberly.

Just as he was contemplating Kimberly's future, she opened the door and came into the room. Folsom was surprised to see that she was fully clothed and looked no worse for wear. Seeing that he was awake, she came over and sat next to him on the edge of the bed.

"What happened?" Folsom asked her.

"Oh Tom, I have never been more scared in my life. DeMarcus came down and led me into the kitchen, and then had me sit on a stool at the island in there for hours. He never touched me, but the look he gave me frightened me more than anything he could have done to me physically. When he left the kitchen, I was alone except for when one of his men would come in to get something to eat or drink. None of them spoke to me, but they all gave me looks that I can only describe as contemptuous pity. I could tell that everyone was busy planning something, and I was afraid that it involved my torture or humiliation, but nothing ever happened. DeMarcus came back into the kitchen a few minutes ago and told me to come up here to you. What's going on, Tom?"

"Besides the issues with Wallace Enterprises and Tri-Star Partners, another business deal that DeMarcus and I were working on has gotten screwed up by Sean Wallace. I-Bar is not happy with me right now, and I think I may have to leave the country for a while to calm him down. Would you want to come with me?"

"Tom, you know that you don't have to ask. I have always been yours, and I always will be. You lead and I'll follow. Tell me about what Sean Wallace has done now."

Folsom didn't want to share the details about either the smuggling of the girls or his side deal with the film producers with Kimberly. The less she knew about all of that, the better it would be for everyone.

"The little Boy Scout just stumbled upon a transaction that I-Bar and I had been working on for months, and then stuck his nose in where it didn't belong."

"Do you think Sean interfered on purpose? Maybe he found out about our plans with Tri-Star Partners and decided to get back at you," Kimberly suggested.

Folsom was shaking his head, "No, this appears to be strictly coincidental. There is no way that Wallace would have known about mine and I-Bar's deal. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"I've warned you before not to underestimate Sean Wallace. I know you like to call him the "Boy Scout", and that you and I-Bar think of him as pure and innocent, but he is one of the most intelligent men you will ever meet."

Folsom scoffed, "Sean Wallace is a naïve wimpy rich boy. Look how he let you walk all over him with Mark and me, even though he didn't know about us. Then he ran away with his tail between his legs because his feelings got hurt."

"Tom, Sean was not naïve, he was trusting. There is a big difference. I'm just warning you that there is more to him than you are giving him credit for, and that concerns me."

"It doesn't matter," said Folsom. "I-Bar smells Wallace's blood and I don't see him letting Wallace cause us anymore problems. Now why don't you get undressed and join me here in bed?"

Kimberly complied without argument, as she always did with Tom Folsom.

***

Sean and Amanda laid in bed talking for another two hours, taking a break only for each to use the bathroom and to brush their teeth before crawling back together under the covers. Amanda had prodded more details about Sean's family from him, learning how his mother and father had met while on vacation from their respective colleges when walking along the banks of the Chattahoochee River. They both had ventured off from the little town of Helen, Georgia where they each had decided to spend a weekend enjoying the peaceful river scenery.

His mother's father owned an outdoor advertising company and had expanded into television and radio station ownership in addition to owning a large sporting goods chain and numerous outfitter and tour operations around Northern Georgia. His father's father already owned several hotel and motel chains, in addition to a nationwide chain of truck stops and fuel centers. Within two years of their marriage, when Sean was not yet a year old, both of their fathers had died and as the only child in one family and the oldest male in the other, Sean's parents each inherited control of their respective family business operations. They worked together to merge the operations and to grow Wallace Enterprises into the multi-billion dollar organization that Sean assumed full ownership of upon his parents' untimely deaths. As she had learned earlier, both of Sean's grandmothers were still alive, each living in the house previously occupied by their own child. According to Sean, the two grandmothers were best friends and frequently travelled around the world together when they weren't conspiring to get Sean settled down and producing great-grandchildren for them.




Heavy Traffic Ch. 08



Amanda laughed at this revelation and said, "I hope that they don't have any expectations in that regard when you introduce me to them."

"Why," asked Sean. "Don't you want children of your own?"

"Of course I do, and I'm not at all convinced that you wouldn't be an ideal candidate to be the father of my children. That being said, I think it is still a bit premature for us to give your grandmothers any expectations."

Sean played with the ring on his finger. He had never liked wearing rings, or a watch for that matter because of his outdoor lifestyle and his martial arts activities. This ring didn't bother him though, and it wasn't just because its design made it difficult for him to tell he had it on, there was the emotional attachment he had felt the instant that Amanda had slipped it onto his finger. It bound him to her, and he liked that attachment.

"I suppose we should take these off before we meet my grandmothers or they will definitely fly off the handle. Once they get over their anger from assuming I would get married without telling them or inviting them to attend, and then just as you said, they will start harping on us to give them great-grandkids."

Amanda felt the ring on her own finger and said, "Couldn't we just explain to them that we need to maintain a charade of being married for a while?"

Sean took her left hand into his and said, "I'm willing to face them if you are."

Amanda put her arms around Sean and placed her head on his shoulder. She whispered into his ear, "Sean, you can trust me with your heart. I really do love you."

Sean pulled her tighter to him and whispered in response, "I do trust you Amanda, and I love you too."

Pulling back from his embrace, Amanda smiled at Sean with a lustful look in her eyes. "Good, I'm glad we got that bit of business out of the way."

Sean gazed at her in confusion until he saw her reach down for the hem of her T-shirt and start to raise it over her head. As he put his hands on hers to hold them down, he said to her, "L'amour sans confiance n'est rien. "

"Yes Sean, Love without trust is nothing, but you and I will have something that poets will write about for centuries." She took Sean's hands and placed them on her covered breasts. "I trust you with my life, I trust you with my heart, and now I want to trust you with my body. Everything will be all right."

"'Right' is determined by how we feel afterwards. I don't want any regrets related to us rushing into things - emotional confusion, guilt, or worst of all any fears over birth control. I'm not prepared in that regard, and I assume that you are as ill prepared as I am."

"I'm not prepared, but the thought of having your baby doesn't frighten me in the least. I know that's surprising under the circumstances, but I think it demonstrates the depth of my trust in you - in us, after knowing you for such a short time."

"If you were to become pregnant with my child, I wouldn't be frightened either, but the lack of fear isn't sufficient justification to throw caution to the wind. I also don't want to squelch any spontaneity between us, but I think a little 'planned spontaneity' would make both us more secure in exploring a physical relationship."

"Sean, if I didn't trust your concerns for our future, I wouldn't be here with you now. I'm not going to argue the points you have made, but I do want you to know why I don't share your concerns. In the first place, I do not believe either of us would realize any regrets from the growth of our love that we would experience through this exploration. If you are afraid that you will have regrets, be confused, feel guilty or fear impregnating me, then I respect that. For my part, I would love you whether we ever consummate our relationship, but if we don't do it, I want it to be for reasons other than fear. Next, I need to be intimate with you on a level that only lovers can share, and I sense that you have a similar need. There is a part of each of us that we want to 'give' to the other person which will not be satisfied by sexual restraint. Finally, while the rhythm method is not full proof, I have always been extremely predictable in my cycles, and I can assure you that the timing right now would make conception highly unlikely."

"Love is a compendium of needs Sean. There are several philosophers and psychologists who postulate about all human behaviors being self-serving. Maybe they are, but I believe that one of the greatest gifts a person can give to another is the willing acceptance of a gift bestowed upon them by someone else. Will you consider something for me, Sean?"

"Anything," he said.

"Consider how your heart feels about me. Can you feel love in the beats of your heart?" 

"In every heart beat and in every breath," Sean admitted.

"And I feel the same," said Amanda. "Would you like for me to feel the love that you feel as much as I want you to feel my love for you?"

"I want you to always be confident of my love, to never doubt it, and to be eternally sheltered by it."

Amanda took Sean's hand, spread his fingers against her neck and said, "Do you feel the love in my heart beating for you?"

Sean felt her pulse and nodded. Amanda placed her fingers against his neck and felt his pulse in return. "Is this how you want us to feel our love for one another Sean, because there is a much more intimate way for us to feel each other's pulse - to feel each other's love."

Sean was silent as Amanda continued, "I want to give you the feeling of my love. I want my heart beats to squeeze around yours as I feel your love pulsing inside of me. I want to give you a closeness that we both will cherish. Please use the love in you to soothe the love in me."

Without speaking, Sean slid his shorts down his legs and over his feet, pushing them down to the foot of the bed. He then lifted Amanda's T-shirt over her head and waited as she slid her own panties off and they joined his shorts somewhere in the sheets. Sean rolled onto his back to let Amanda give him the gift they both desired.

Amanda spread out on top of Sean and brought her lips to his. As their lips met and their tongues danced, her hands explored every inch of Sean's body that her position would allow her access to. Amanda couldn't say how long they kissed, but it felt as if their lips had fused together and she no longer knew where hers began and Sean's left off. As much as she wanted their kiss to continue and to fondle and investigate every part of Sean's body, her desire to join their bodies took precedence this first time.

Breaking their kiss, Amanda positioned herself on top of Sean and using her hand to guide his erection, she began to slowly impale herself. Her progress was deliberate and Sean exhibited unbelievable restraint to allow her body to adjust to his penetration at its own pace. She was small and soft, while he was huge and hard. Guttural moans accompanied Amanda's occasional gasps as her determination to fully surround Sean's manhood continued. The increasing stimulation of her slow acceptance resulted in her first orgasm at the moment that they were finally joined completely. Her second occurred when Sean rose up and suckled her breast, followed by her third as Sean emptied himself inside her several moments later. It was Sean's orgasm that she craved more than her own. Knowing that she was capable of satisfying a man - her man - this man, finally made her feel worthy of her role in this world as a woman.

Amanda collapsed against Sean as her sated body could no longer support her in an upright position. Before Amanda's orgasm has fully receded, Sean had recovered and had begun throbbing inside her once more. Placing his arms around her to hold their joined bodies together, Sean rolled Amanda onto her back while remaining inside her. This time, he took control of their love making and Amanda willingly allowed him to do so.

When she was finally capable of speech, her first words were, "I knew your kiss held promise, but that was unbelievable. I'm hooked."

"Australian girls are easy," Sean teased, throwing her own words from earlier back at her. Amanda giggled and said, "Well I can't speak for other Australian girls, but where you are concerned Mr. Wallace, this will be one very easy Australian girl from now on."

"You must have taken lessons from Eve herself," Sean said. "How many other boys have fallen prey to your feminine whiles?"

Amanda just smiled at him and said, "None."

"You weren't a virgin, were you?" Sean asked in surprise.

"Yes and no."

Sean chuckled, "How can it be 'yes or no'. Either you were or you weren't. I didn't feel a hymen break or anything, so I assumed..."

"I lost my hymen horseback riding when I was thirteen." Amanda told him.

"So you never had sex before tonight?"

"Oh God, this is embarrassing," Amanda groaned as she snuggled against Sean's neck. After a moment she pulled back and said, "I sort of had sex with a man while I was in college. While in nursing school, I was working in the student medical center at the university. Girls would often come in seeking advice on sexual matters, such as birth control, sexually transmitted diseases, and so on. The only thing I was qualified to discuss with them was abstinence, so I thought I would try to learn more about things in order to better serve the patients. One long weekend I hired a male 'escort' to assist me with my research and at one point he inserted himself into me a little bit."

"It doesn't sound like you got your money's worth," teased Sean. Amanda smacked him playfully and continued, "Oh he earned his pay, just not in the fashion that he was accustomed to. I used him to practice placing a condom on a man, going through a box of a dozen condoms over the weekend, and I suppose I teased him unmercifully as I touched him in different ways to see what responses resulted - erection-wise. Other than that, he mostly just watched rugby on television while I practiced with the use of diaphragms, spermicides and other devices. He thought it was hilarious that I was writing everything down, but I really did consider it a clinical research project of sorts. On the last day, I washed his penis with alcohol, followed by Chlorhexidine to make sure it was disinfected, then I asked him to insert it into me two different times so I could determine how a bare penis felt, followed by one wearing a condom. So physically, I wasn't a virgin, but I felt like one emotionally and spiritually. Do you understand"

Sean leaned over and kissed her, "Wait here."

She watched him climb out of bed, admiring his body as he walked into the bathroom. How could a body that looked to be sculpted from granite feel so soft, warm and sensuous against hers? She heard the water running at the sink and saw him emerge in a few minutes with a wet wash cloth.

"This is for you," he said as he held the cloth out to her.

Smiling up into his eyes, Amanda made a decision that she hoped would convey her trust in him even more, "Would you like to do the honors?"

"You wouldn't mind?" Sean asked.

She shook her head and pushed the covers off her legs, exposing herself to him. "Considering how much I want to care for you and tend to your every need from now on, it's only fair that I let you do the same with me if you wish. My body is yours Sean."

"And mine is yours Amanda."

***

Folsom was awaken by someone coming into the bedroom without knocking. Before he could turn his head to see who it was, he felt a nudge to his shoulder and heard the voice of Q-Tip say, "I-Bar wants you."

Quincy Harris looked as ridiculous to Folsom as he ever had. Bleaching his oversized Afro to the snow white shade of cotton, and standing at seven feet in height, he embraced his street name with his appearance. A ruthless gangbanger before he had reached his teens, Q-Tip had been unquestionably loyal to DeMarcus Steele since the two of them were in the youth detention center together.

Folsom looked over at Kimberly and she was sleeping as soundly as she ever did. It was generally very difficult to wake her from a sleep deep enough for her to be lightly snoring as she was right then.

"I'm coming," said Folsom as he climbed out of the bed and slid his briefs and pants on. Q-Tip returned to the doorway, but just stood there watching Folsom until he had pulled on a t-shirt and started following him down the hall to I-Bar's office. Q-Tip didn't open the door for Folsom, but just assumed a position beside it as Folsom knocked and entered.

"You been up all night?" Folsom asked as he approached DeMarcus at his desk.

"Too much to do to sleep right now," DeMarcus said. "Have a seat."

Folsom sat and waited. DeMarcus maintained his professional persona, which always made his moods difficult to ascertain. Finally he spoke, "Lonnie and Regis checked out the hotel you mentioned. They couldn't get in, or even very close because the place is swarming with cops and Feds, so it looks like my girls are there as you suspected. They tried parking where they could watch the place but kept getting chased off. Not looking good for me being able to get them back, but I haven't given up on that yet."

"I could get the staff at the hotel to report to me on the status of the girls and keep me posted of any plans to move them," Folsom offered.

"I don't want your name associated with those girls anymore than it already has been," countered DeMarcus. "Tom, have you ever heard of the Maldives?"

"The islands in the Indian Ocean? Sure."

"I think you should go there," said DeMarcus.

"Let me guess," said Folsom. "No extradition treaty with the US."

"Correct, but that's not the only reason. The setback with this shipment aside, I see a fucking goldmine in the girls from all those poor under-developed countries in Southeast Asia. Their exotic looks make them valuable and the younger and more virginal they are the better. Having you in the region could pay dividends for me in helping to establish a solid and dependable supply chain for years to come."

"Plus it gets me out of the country so the Feds can't touch me, thus helping to shield you, and it puts me someplace where I can be of assistance to your future business plans. I like it," said Folsom.

"You may not like the caveat that I'm placing on the deal," said DeMarcus. "You move to the Maldives and serve me there in exchange for your life. My toy stays here with me."

"You want to keep Kimberly?" asked Folsom. "I didn't think you even liked her."

"I despise the white bitch as much as every other white bitch, but although you try to hide and deny it, I know she means something to you. So while I trust you to be a stand-up guy, she will stay here with me as insurance. Follow me?"

"You don't have to do that, DeMarcus," Folsom appealed.

"I don't have to do a lot of things Tom, like letting you live after you brought all this shit down on me. We go back a lot of years, so this is the deal I'm willing to make you. Take it or leave it."

Folsom knew he had no choice. Maybe once he was out of the country and making I-Bar money from the Maldives, he could convince him to send Kimberly to him. "When do you want me to leave?"

"It'll take a couple of days to make the necessary arrangements, but I want you out of here immediately. I'll have Q-Tip take you to a place we have down near Macon until I figure out the best way to get you out of the country, and that will depend on how hard the Feds are looking for you. I've taken care of that hick Sheriff, so the Feds are going to be very motivated to find you."

"Okay," said Folsom. "I'll go get dressed..."

"You're dressed enough," said DeMarcus. "I'll have some clothes sent to you, but you need to leave here right now. Q-Tip is waiting for you. Give him your cell phone so he can get rid of it on the way." Tossing him a new cell phone, I-Bar said, "Don't use this phone to call anyone you know or any place where you are known. That includes you not calling me. If I need to talk to you, I'll call one of the guys with you. Understand?"

"Sure I-Bar." Rising to his feet, Folsom turned and left the office without further comment or questions.

***

By 6AM, Sean and Amanda were showered and dressed. Amanda had followed up on her promise to clean up the hair on Sean's neck at the same time she fulfilled her earlier fantasy about their naked bodies sharing a shower.

Amanda was wearing a pleated khaki skirt and pale blue knitted tank top that she had purchased just yesterday. Sean was surprised that with all the shopping bags he saw in their room, Amanda had packed all of her purchases into a single, medium sized duffle bag no bigger than his own. He took their two duffle bags down to his car while Amanda logged onto her laptop to send a few e-mails to Jeremy Thorndike.

By the time Sean returned to the room, Amanda was ready to go downstairs to meet Samuel and his church group. She had insisted on buying them all breakfast, along with the girls prior to their trip to the amusement park.

The I.C.E. agents and Atlanta Police officers guarding the hotel had virtually commandeered the International House of Pancakes restaurant next door to the hotel simply by their shared use of it for coffee, food and restroom breaks while on duty. Amanda had spoken with the manager of the restaurant the previous evening and made arrangements for her large crowd to be accommodated for breakfast. When Amanda offered him a bonus of 50% over whatever the food charges ended up being, the manager had promised to have extra servers and kitchen staff available.

Sean went downstairs with Amanda to meet Samuel and his wife, then to help them and the other adults to corral the girls and join them up with the two dozen children from the church's youth ministry. Once the crowd reached the restaurant, Sean waited for them to be led to seats before ordering a cup of black coffee to go and excusing himself.

"Don't you want breakfast?" asked Amanda as she caught him at the counter paying for his coffee.

"I'm not much of a breakfast person," said Sean. "Plus, I want to make a couple of phone calls and send a few e-mails before we head out for the day. Do you mind if I use your laptop? Mine is already packed in the car."

Amanda placed her arms around his neck and kissed him before answering, "Thank you for asking Sean. We both know that the laptop is technically yours but your courtesy and manners are very much appreciated. Are you sure that I can't bring you back something? Maybe a muffin for later?"

Sean had his hands on her waist and realized that their public intimacies felt very natural to him, which was not something he had experienced before. He had never felt comfortable holding hands with a girl in public, let alone kissing one as he had just done willingly with Amanda.

"I'll tell you what," he said. "By the time you are done here, I will probably be ready for another cup of coffee. If you would bring me back a refill, I would appreciate it. As far as food goes, how about if you see if they have an orange and a banana? Either or both could be a tasty treat for us later."

"Consider it done, Mr. Wallace."

"Thank you Mrs. Wallace."

Sean checked the time on his cell phone as he walked across the parking lot to the hotel lobby. It was just after 7AM, which wasn't too early for his first call to his Uncle Kirby. He had to keep reminding himself that his Uncle was in the same time zone as him because he was so used to Kirby living in San Antonio, Texas which was an hour behind Atlanta. Kirby had moved back to the Northern Virginia area with his new job with Brandt Consulting in order to move in with his fiancée, Wendy Lewis. Wendy was with the Air Force Judge Advocate General's office, stationed at the Pentagon and Sean knew that his Uncle Kirby was consulting for the Department of Homeland Security, which is why he had brought him into the situation with Amanda and the girls originally.




Heavy Traffic Ch. 08



Sean entered the hotel room and got the laptop started before he called his Uncle. "Good morning Uncle Kirby. I thought you might like an update on the situation here."

"Hi Sean. I certainly would. I have been getting snippets of the details from various sources, but a briefing from you would help fill in a lot of the gaps. Let me have it."

Sean spent the next ten minutes filling his Uncle in on what had transpired since they had last spoken, including the murder of Sheriff Smith and Mickey's concerns for the safety of Amanda and the girls.

"Brandt Consulting has some personnel with considerable personal protection experience don't they?" Sean asked, although he knew the answer. His Uncle had once worked for the Secret Service before becoming a Deputy United States Marshal providing security for persons in the Federal Witness Protection Program.

"What are you looking for?" asked Kirby.

"I want to hire a team to protect both of my grandmothers until this is over. I will probably want a much larger team to secure a facility I hope to establish as a home for the girls here in the Atlanta area. Eventually, I'll need some experts to provide me with plans for the permanent security needs of this facility, but the immediate need will require bodies to secure the perimeter at the very least."

"What about Amanda?"

"Amanda will be with me for the foreseeable future, so her protection is taken care of," said Sean.

"What are you anticipating the need for protection from?" asked Kirby.

"Street gang level violence and brute force is my best guess. If what Mickey and I suspect is accurate, we're dealing with people who rely more upon intimidation and lots of flying bullets than they do on planning and professional execution. Do you know what I mean?"

"Unfortunately, I do," said Kirby. "How soon do you need this?"

"For my grandmothers, as soon as possible," said Sean. "The facility won't be an issue until this evening at the earliest, but the sooner we can get resources identified, the sooner they can get to work setting things up for transporting the girls and securing them in their new home."

"I'll get right on it. Remember that your Grandma Wallace is also my own mother, so I already know who I want to take that assignment. There is a husband and wife team who both used to work for the Secret Service living in the Nashville area. Sam and Gail Bennet are sub-contractors for us and should be readily available."

"Great," said Sean. "I'll be meeting Grandma Askew at 11AM and we'll have lunch afterwards with Amanda. Her detail could wait until this afternoon if that helps you."

"The added time gives me more options, so thanks for letting me know. What type of area is the facility that you are considering located? That will make a difference on the size and makeup of the team you need."

Sean thought for a minute, trying to remember details on the facility from his previous visits there. "The facility sits on approximately 230 heavily wooded acres along the Chattahoochee River north of Atlanta. It fronts the river along its western boundary, has private residences to the north and south, and a two-lane suburban street along its eastern boundary. There is only one access road into the property. The residential buildings, or lodges as they are called, are separated, but one of those has more than 70 rooms so we can put all the girls into that single building to make securing them easier."

"Okay," said Kirby. "Let me know as soon as you have the location finalized. Is there anything else you need help with?"

"Not at the moment, but Uncle Kirby, the bank doors are open right now. Spare no expense if making sure everyone is safe. This is on my dime, and I've got plenty of them as you know." "Don't sweat it, Sean. I'll make sure everyone is covered."

"Thanks. I should be available on my phone for most of the day, so don't hesitate to call with any questions or updates."

"Will do. Bye." His Uncle ended the call.

The laptop had finished booting and was sitting idle by the time Sean had finished the call, so he sat at the table, took a drink from his coffee, and began searching the internet and composing e-mails.

As Amanda entered the room with another cup of coffee for him, he looked at the time and saw that it was already after 9:30AM. "Wow, I didn't realize how much time had passed," Sean said as Amanda leaned down to kiss him and then replaced his empty coffee cup with the full one. "How was breakfast?"

Amanda pulled out the other chair at the table and sat down across from Sean before answering, "Let's just say that a day at an amusement park is probably the only thing that could top the fun everyone had at breakfast. The staff at the restaurant were wonderful, making sure that every child received exactly what they wanted on their plates, drawing faces onto some pancakes with whipped cream and pieces of fruit or designing hearts out of marshmallows on the top of a cup of hot chocolate... whatever it took. The volunteers from the church had just as much fun teasing the kids and prompting them in the most interesting ways to finish all their food in preparation for a long day of rides and excitement. Are we almost ready to go?"

"Almost," said Sean. "Let me check for replies to some of my e-mails real quick and then we can head out. Is there anything you need to check on-line before I turned the laptop off?"

"I don't think so. It's still early in Sydney so I don't expect a response to my messages until later in the day, and then I can check them on my cell phone thanks to you and Brian."

"Okay, then just give me a minute and we'll be out of here."

The only e-mail waiting for him of any significance was from Moe confirming that she had begun contacting the finance directors and managers dismissed from Wallace Enterprises and received enthusiastic replies from all of them to her offer for them to return to their previous positions. Many could start immediately and Moe wanted to know if Monday would be soon enough for Sean's plans. Her explanation that Keith Longo and Marilyn Turner were still too intimidated by the threats which had driven them from their positions that they refused to return to the company even if Sean was involved in daily operations was disconcerting, but he didn't believe there was anything he could do to change their minds just yet. Sean quickly drafted a reply and sent it before shutting down the laptop.

Amanda saw Sean turning off the laptop and picked her new messenger bag off the floor to start packing the computer away for their departure. While she was packing everything into the bag, Sean made a quick tour of the room to see if they had forgotten anything. Finding everything packed already, he joined Amanda at the table where he took the messenger bag from her shoulder and placed it on his own. He then put his arm around her waist and walked with her to the door.

"Ready to go Mrs. Wallace?"

Amanda had a tear in her eye as she merely nodded and let Sean lead her out to his car.

Sean opened the door for her, and Amanda once again slid across and opened his door for him from the inside before he could do it himself. After Sean had started the car, Amanda lowered the center arm rest, reached over and took his right hand into her left, placing their arms together on the soft, cool leather between them.

"Can you drive okay with just your left hand?" she asked.

"Watch me," Sean said, smiling over at her before backing out of the parking spot and heading for the freeway entrance. Amanda's expression at the door of the hotel room had not been lost on Sean. As soon as he had merged into the late morning traffic heading towards Atlanta on interstate 20, he sought an explanation.

"Amanda, is everything okay?"

She glanced over at Sean and then looked down at their hands joined together between them. "Yes and no," she answered.

"Can you explain?" asked Sean.

"I'll try, but it's all a bit confusing. I love you Sean, and I love being with you. I am developing habits and feelings that seem inappropriate for this stage of our relationship, and that both amazes me and frightens me at the same time. The intensity of my feelings for you frightens me."

"Can you give me an example?"

"I don't know that I can give a specific example. I always thought that love was something that happened gradually between two people, so the realization that I have found my one true love and accept - no cherish the knowledge that what you and I have is eternal - well it confuses me in its suddenness. I always assumed that my parents' love grew over all the years that they knew each other growing up, but maybe it happened for them just like this. Maybe it happened for your parents the same way too. I don't think I have ever missed being able to talk with my Mom as much as I do right now. I love being known as Mrs. Wallace - YOUR Mrs. Wallace, and I don't want it to end. Ever. I told you that meeting you has shown me what I want for my life in the future, and the more time I spend with you, the more convinced I am that you and your happiness is my true calling in life."

"Amanda, I told you that you could trust me with your heart and I meant it."

"I do trust you Sean, I really do. It's just..."

"Jeremiah 17:9, correct? 'The heart is deceitful above all things...'."

"How did you know?" 

"There is no "just', Amanda. If you trust me as much as I trust you, then revel in the amazement and dismiss the fears. That's what I am going to do. I have no intention of ever letting you out of my life, and just like you, your happiness has become my true calling. I have been a butterfly caught in your net since the first moment I saw you. I love you."

"But this isn't logical. You don't know me Sean..."

"I know your heart. I trust your heart. The rest as they say 'is just gravy'."

"Did anyone ever tell you that you talk funny?" she teased with a giggle.

Sean laughed and said, "Well, as soon as we stop you can fix that little flaw by placing your lips on mine. Kissing me is a sure way to shut me up in case the need ever arises."

"I hope all of your flaws are as enjoyable to fix," she said as she squeezed his hand in hers.

***

She rolled over to cuddle next to Tom and found that he wasn't in the bed. Kimberly remained on her stomach as she looked around the room and listened for sounds of Tom in the bathroom. Seeing and hearing nothing, she rose from the bed and walked into the bathroom to see if he was there, as well as to take care of her own morning needs. On her way, she saw Tom's dress shirt, tie, suit jacket, and finally his shoes and socks were still in the room so she knew he must be around someplace. Tom would never leave the house without being immaculately dressed. It was just his style to look his best when presenting himself to the world.

Kimberly decided to go ahead and shower and dress while she was waiting for Tom to return. She had no desire to wander around I-Bar's house searching for Tom, but she wanted to be ready for him when he returned. When he had left her on the floor of the foyer last night to wait for I-Bar, Tom had taken her overnight bag with him. She found it next to the chair with Tom's remaining clothes, so she carried it to the bathroom and set about her grooming routine for the day.

Kimberly had just rinsed the shampoo from her hair when the shower door opened and one of I-Bar's men, this one named 'Splint', reached in and turned off the water.

"I-Bar wants to see you," he said as he took her arm and began pulling her out of the shower.

"Can I at least dry off first?" she asked. In response his hand left her arm and grabbed a handful of her wet blonde hair and yanked hard.

"When I-Bar says 'now', there ain't time for you for you to do anything but move bitch." He literally drug her naked dripping body down the hall, but he did have the presence of mind to grab one of the towels on his way out of the bathroom. Pushing Kimberly into I-Bar's office, Splint dropped the towel onto the floor.

"Stand on the towel so you don't get the floor wet bitch."

Kimberly stepped onto the towel and stood shivering as I-Bar just stared at her. With a nod of his head, I-Bar dismissed Splint who left and closed the door behind him. Kimberly instinctively knelt to her knees and bowed her head into the submissive position she had come to learn was expected of her in I-Bar's presence.

"How did you sleep?"

Kimberly was surprised by the question, but more so by the tone of I-Bar's voice as he asked it. He sounded civil and actually concerned with what her answer would be.

"I slept well, Sir. Thank you."

"Kimberly, please stand up and dry yourself off."

This order confused Kimberly and that fact frightened her more than if I-Bar had yelled at her as he normally did. She still didn't hesitate to obey, standing and bringing the towel up with her to begin drying her hair. I-Bar just sat and watched her until she had finished.

"You can wrap the towel around you if it makes you more comfortable. I don't have a robe or anything in here for you and I imagine that you might be a little chilled."

Kimberly wrapped the towel around her and tucked the end in to hold it up at the top of her breasts. I-Bar then rose, walked around his desk, took her hand and gently led her over to the couch in his office.

"Would you like some coffee or juice?" he asked her.

"No sir," Kimberly said, still bowing her head.

"Kimberly, please look at me," said I-Bar. "I want to talk to you."

DeMarcus Steele's voice was deep, and usually when Kimberly heard it, there was nothing but contempt and intimidation in his words and tone. Now his voice was almost soothing. He was speaking to her gently and with apparent kindness. She raised her head, but didn't look him in the eyes.

"Kimberly, I wanted to let you know that I have sent Tom away, and he won't be coming back. It isn't safe for him, you or me if he were to remain in the country."

Kimberly finally looked into I-Bar's eyes and saw something other than hatred for the first time since soon after she had met him when they were teenagers. She wasn't sure exactly what she was seeing now, but she didn't fear it in the least. "Tom mentioned that he might have to go away, but he wanted me to go with him."

"Yes," said I-Bar, "Tom did want you to go with him, but I wouldn't allow it."

"Why?" asked Kimberly.

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about." DeMarcus surprised Kimberly further when he reached over and gently took her hand into his. "Tom screwed up big time, so one reason why I am not letting you go with him is as punishment for what he did and to keep him in line in the future. The second reason I am keeping you here is because I am in love with you myself."

"What?" gasped Kimberly as she tried to pull her hand from his. DeMarcus allowed her to pull her hand free and simply folded his own in his lap.

"You sound surprised by something I said," chuckled DeMarcus. "Care to share which comments confuse you?"

"I should think that it would be obvious. How can you say you love me after the way you have treated me all these years?" asked Kimberly.

DeMarcus nodded his head and looked at her with a sadness she had never seen in him. "I doubt that I can explain things in a way that will satisfy you, Kimberly. Do you remember when Tom first introduced us? You two were a steady couple who were hiding your relationship from your families but you were both dedicated to each other."

"I remember," said Kimberly.

"Do you remember how you and I got along then?" DeMarcus asked.

"You doted on me more than Tom did," she said, remembering things that the years had driven to the back of her mind. "I thought you were almost competing with Tom for my attention sometimes."

"I was. You were, and are the most beautiful and interesting girl I had ever met, but you loved Tom. Do you remember when I started treating you different?"

"Not an exact date or anything," she said.

"I do," said DeMarcus. "It was when you let Tom make that video of you giving his boss a blow job. Tom shared that with everyone he could think of to demonstrate his control over you, and I wanted to kill him for weeks afterwards. I couldn't understand you letting Tom manipulate you that way, and I couldn't understand how Tom could treat someone as wonderful as you so badly. I first started humiliating you in hopes that Tom would recognize your real worth and stop pimping you out for his own selfish purposes. I admit that I also wanted to punish you for allowing yourself to be used by Tom, but neither of you ever seemed to want to change things. Sending Tom away and keeping you here will finally change things, and I have no regrets."

"Keeping me here?" Kimberly asked with concern evident on her face.

"Not here in this house," said DeMarcus. "Although you are welcome here any time. I meant here in the States where Tom can't use you the way he has been doing..."

"And so you can use me instead?" Kimberly interrupted. This action was not something she would have ever considered before DeMarcus showed the gentler side of himself.

"The way I treated you was for reasons that no longer exist. I won't make you stay here with me, or force you to do anything that you don't want to do. You know too much and our business arrangements with Tri-Star Partners will require me to keep in touch with you, but I want you to know that you are now free to choose who you want to be with, and if you choose to be with me, I would treat you like a queen."

"I don't have to stay married to Mark if I don't want to?"

"No you don't," said DeMarcus. "Unlike Tom, I have no interest in Mark's family money. If you choose to be with me, even if just for dinner on occasion, I would escort you proudly. I have no one to be concerned over me being in a relationship with a white woman. Some of my Homies may be confused because of the way I treated you in the past, but they will catch on quickly, and I guarantee you that none of them will ever disrespect you again or it will be the last thing they do."

Gazing into his eyes and seeing the calmness there, Kimberly asked, "Can I call you 'Dee' like I used to?"

"Kimmie, you can call me anything you want."

Taking him at his word, she said, "Dee, to say that I am shocked by your offer would be an understatement. I always found you attractive, and I will admit to you here and now that I was always disappointed that you didn't demonstrate any desire for me as anything other than 'your bitch'. I hope you understand that I'm going to need some time to process all of this before I make any decisions. My future is obviously very much up in the air right now with Tom leaving and Sean Wallace returning to try and take back his company. Can you give me a few days to think things over?"

DeMarcus took both of her hands back into his and said, "Take all the time you need, Kimmie. I'll have one of my guys get you a rental car to drive back to Nashville as soon as you're ready to leave. Figure out what you want to do, but don't let the business factor into your considerations. I'll handle Sean Wallace for all of us."

Kimberly scooted over and placed her arms around DeMarcus' shoulders, unconcerned about the towel coming unwrapped from her body. Hugging him tight and kissing him lightly on the lips, she said "Thank you Dee. I mean really, thank you."

DeMarcus hugged her in return. "I doubt that you trust me very much Kimmie, but if you give me a chance, I will spend the rest of my life making up for the way I treated you in the past. No pressure, just my promise to you."

Rising from the couch, leaving the towel lying on the cushions, she said "Would you care to give me an example?"

"What do you mean?" asked DeMarcus.

"Make love to me with the respect and love you claim you have for me," she told him. "Right now. Prove to me that a future with you would be different than our past."




Heavy Traffic Ch. 08



DeMarcus rose, handed her the towel and said, "Why don't you put this back on for now. I don't want to ever parade your naked body in front of others again, and the walk to my bedroom will take us in front of a few curious eyes."

Kimberly did as requested, realizing that she viewed it as a request instead of an order. She then took DeMarcus' hand and let him lead her to his bedroom.



Heavy Traffic Ch. 09



"Were you raised in the Methodist Church?" Amanda asked Sean as they took the Peachtree Industrial Boulevard exit from the perimeter loop and headed north. Sean had told her where they would be meeting his grandmother.

"From Sunday School through baptism and beyond," replied Sean. "I attended Wesleyan Schools from Kindergarten through high school. You?"

"Same with me, except as you know I was home schooled," confirmed Amanda. "The similarities between us really are amazing when you think about it."

"I have thought about it," said Sean, "and I agree. I'm also realizing that the word 'amazing' could be applied to you in many ways."

Amanda squeezed his hand with the one holding it and stroked his forearm with her other. "Amazing is a word that certainly applies to you, Mr. Wallace."

"That's only because you motivate me to be amazing, Mrs. Wallace." Glancing at the clock on his dash, Sean added, "We're about twenty minutes away from the church and we have almost an hour before we are scheduled to meet my grandmother. Do you mind taking a brief detour up ahead?"

"Of course not," said Amanda. "I'm treasuring my time with you and I would go anywhere with you that allows us to remain together."

"I want to give you a quick look at a place and get your opinion on it as a possible home for the girls."

Now Amanda was excited. "You found a place?" she exclaimed.

"I think so, but I want you to approve of it first. If you agree with me on its suitability, then I will do everything I can to make it happen."

"Oh Sean, let's see it!"

"We'll be there shortly."

Taking several side streets to cut across the area known as Peachtree Corners, Sean took them through combination residential and mixed office communities until he finally turned onto an access road with a sign reading "Prestonwood Conference Center and Retreat". Driving down the access road, Amanda saw wooden signs on posts indicating pathways to various features and attractions, such a "Pavilion", "Basketball Courts", and "Pool/Tennis".

"This is a beautiful setting," Amanda said as they continued to meander through the wooded property. Passing a turnoff with a sign that read "Chapel", she asked "Who currently owns this property?"

"The Methodist Church owns it," replied Sean as they drove past the first guest accommodation building with a sign reading, "River Lodge".

Seeing the building, Amanda exclaimed, "That building must have at least twenty five rooms."

"I think it has thirty, and most have two queen beds," commented Sean. "There is a bigger building up ahead called the "Meadows Lodge" with more than seventy rooms, and there is a third set of two companion buildings that also have several rooms."

Pulling into the parking lot, Sean put the car into park and turned to Amanda. "The Chattahoochee River is right down that path. We have time for a quick walk there and back if you're interested in seeing it."

Amanda was out of the car and opening Sean's door for him before he could get the key out of the ignition. Of course his efforts were adversely impacted by his gut-wrenching laughter at Amanda's enthusiastic haste.

"Come on," she urged. "I want to see the river where your parents met."

Locking the car and taking her hand, Sean told her, "My parents didn't meet anywhere near here. They met way upstream from here, but to your point, it is the same river."

Stopping to put her arms around Sean's waist and to give him a kiss, Amanda said, "I'm so glad that you got my point, Mr. Wallace. Let's go."

Walking out onto a small dock extending from the shore into the river, Amanda spun in a complete circle examining the scenery before her. "My God, Sean, this is heavenly. Do you think we can talk the Methodist Church into letting the girls stay here?"

"Do you want that to happen?" asked Sean.

"Most definitely," agreed Amanda as she examined a map of the retreat mounted on a wooden post beside the path leading to the dock. "This place is the perfect peaceful retreat my girls need to help them recover and get on with their lives. What about schools near here?"

"Short-term, I was thinking we could have tutors brought in to teach classes here at the retreat. Eventually I would envision a more permanent school setting being established, either using the existing buildings or constructing something new. There is plenty of space for carefully planned expansion."

Amanda took his hand once again as they started walking back to the car. "So your idea is for this to be a permanent facility for girls like mine? Would the Methodist Church agree to that?"

"Once my grandmother buys in on our idea, she'll make it happen for us. That's why I suggested her to head up the foundation I am establishing for this purpose."

"Oh now I really hope your grandmother likes me," said Amanda with a worried tone to her voice."

As Sean opened the door for Amanda to get back into his car, he said "There is one sure fire way to get my grandmother to not only like you, but to worship you and do anything you want."

After Sean had taken his seat and started the car, Amanda asked him, "Okay, what would I have to do to win over your grandmother as you described?"

Sean had a big grin on his face as he said, "Promise to name our first daughter after her."

Amanda sat speechless with her mouth agape for the rest of the trip. As Sean parked in the lot for the church, Amanda finally found her voice, "Now that I've seen Prestonwood, I want it for the girls so bad that I'm nervous it won't be possible and I'll be disappointed. Do you have any alternatives, Sean?"

"Amanda, I told you earlier that meeting you has made me realize my role in life is to keep you safe and happy. I take that role seriously, so if you want Prestonwood to be the home for your girls, trust me, I will make it happen. No other alternatives are necessary."

"Thank you Sean, but there's something else about Prestonwood that attracted my interest, and I want to share that with you before we meet your grandmother."

"What is that?"

"I think it would be the perfect place for you and I to get married,"

"I thought you would," Sean replied with a broad smile on his face.

"You did?"

"Well I hoped you would, but since you didn't get a chance to see the chapel, I wasn't sure if the rest of the location would convince you. I knew the chapel would have sealed the deal and I was already planning on stopping by there on the way back so you would see it and that you would come to the opinion that you have."

"I love you, Mr. Wallace."

"And I you, Mrs. Wallace. Now let's go get your girls a home."

Amanda didn't wait for Sean to open her door, but simply met him at the front of the car and put her arm around his waist. Somehow, holding hands didn't seem intimate enough for her feelings toward him at the moment, and she didn't care what he or anyone else thought of it.

Sean directed Amanda through the church campus towards a large building with "Askew Gymnasium" carved into the stone above the doorway. A tall attractive woman who appeared to be in her mid seventies, with bright shoulder length silver hair stood just outside the door talking to a man. When they saw Sean and Amanda approaching, the woman turned away from the man and ran to Sean with a speed and agility that Amanda though she herself would have trouble matching.

Seeing Amanda's arm around Sean's waist, the woman drew up short and smiled at the couple. After gazing into Sean's eyes for only an instant his grandmother changed her focus. Addressing Amanda, she said, "I hate to be rude, but would you mind if I gave my grandson a hug?"

"Not in the least," smiled Amanda as she stepped away from Sean to allow his grandmother access for the embrace she desired. Sean reciprocated by warmly hugging his grandmother back and giving her a kiss on her cheek. As they separated, Sean's grandmother stepped back and glanced between Sean and Amanda expectantly.

"Grandma, I would like you to meet Amanda Wallace. Amanda, I would like you to meet my grandmother, Elizabeth Askew," Sean said to introduce the two women.

There was a very audible gasp from Sean's grandmother as she comprehended what her grandson had stated was Amanda's last name. "Did you say 'Amanda WALLACE?" she asked.

Amanda smiled and extended her hand for Elizabeth Askew to shake. "I'm so very happy to meet you Mrs. Askew. I assure you, Wallace is my maiden name."

Taking Amanda's hand and holding it in her own, Elizabeth Askew said, "Well if that isn't the nicest coincidence. I'm very pleased to meet you Amanda, please call me Beth."

Sean nodded towards the man that his grandmother had been talking to when he and Amanda had arrived, "We should probably join Pastor Steves and wait for the others."

Taking Sean's hand that was not already in the possession of Amanda, his grandmother started leading them back to the door where Pastor Steves stood waiting for them. Sean shook the Pastor's hand and followed this with a warm embrace before introducing him to Amanda. This time, it was Sean's grandmother that offered an explanation that Amanda's last name was her maiden name when the Pastor gasped at the introduction.

Looking back at Sean, Pastor Steves said, "Jim Hale called me last night and after mentioning his conversation with you, I encouraged him to meet with us here today. I understand that you are okay with that?"

"Yes, thank you. I have also invited Pastor Myles Denton from Prestonwood UMC to join us," said Sean.

"That explains why he is approaching us right now," said Steves as he motioned to the walkway from the parking lot. Turning to look in that direction, Sean, Amanda, and Mrs. Askew watched the tall thin middle-aged man who was walking towards them. Farther back in the parking lot itself they could see another man just getting out of his car.

"And that must be Jim Hale," said Sean.

"I'll go ahead and unlock the door for us then," said Steves as he took keys from his pocket and released the deadbolt securing the doors into the gymnasium building and throwing the doors open for everyone to enter.

Taking Amanda's hand, Mrs. Askew said, "Come with me Amanda, we can go ahead of the men and find the best seats."

Amanda was reluctant to leave Sean, but she was determined to have his grandmother like her, so she wasn't about to object. The two women walked around the perimeter of the gym to avoid placing their street shoes on the main floor area. Mrs. Askew guided Amanda to the side of the building where a hallway led off to several offices and meeting rooms. Stopping at one of these, Mrs. Askew opened the door, turned on the room lights, and directed Amanda to chairs around a conference table where they both took seats next to each other.

"We don't have a lot of time before the men get here," said Mrs. Askew, "so all I want to know for now is do you love Sean as much as he loves you?"

"How do you know Sean loves me?" Amanda asked. "Did he say something to you?"

Smiling at Amanda and patting her hand, Mrs. Askew said, "No, but anyone who knows Sean will be able to tell in an instant that his sun rises and sets with you. Remind him to show you the photos. So do you feel the same way about him?"

"I do," admitted Amanda. "I can't imagine my life without Sean being in it. What photos should he show me?"

Beth just smiled in response and said, "I am so glad to hear that. Sean deserves the happiness I can already see he has with you. I can't wait to hear more about how you two met and all your plans, but I can hear the men coming, so we'll discuss it further over lunch. Okay?"

"I look forward to that," said Amanda. "Thank you."

The sound of voices became clearer as the four men entered the room. Amanda stood and moved over one chair so that Sean could take the seat between her and his grandmother. This move was not lost on Sean, who promptly assumed the chair vacated by Amanda, nor by Mrs. Askew, who smiled approvingly at Amanda. Pastor Steves took the seat at the head of the table while Jim Hale and Pastor Denton sat along the side opposite of Amanda, Sean, and his grandmother.

Amanda and Mrs. Askew were introduced to Jim Hale and Pastor Denton by Steves, who then turned the meeting over to Sean, who quickly deferred to Amanda.

Taking her right hand in his left and placing them on the table for everyone to see, Sean said, "Amanda, would you care to tell everyone how you came to be here today?"

Amanda related the capture of herself and the girls, their journey in the carrier, her sale to the pornographers, followed by Sean's timely rescue of her and later the girls. There were several gasps from around the table at various points in Amanda's tale, but no one interrupted her.

Sean stepped back into the conversation when Amanda had finished explaining about the girls currently staying in a hotel. "Amanda, can you share with us how you came to be a volunteer at the orphanage in East Timor? Why there?"

Sean and Amanda had discussed this subject during their drive to the church and she knew what Sean wanted her to cover. "I was raised and baptized in a small Methodist Church just outside Katherine in the Northern Territory of Australia. My Pastor from my youth had been a close personal friend of my parents, and later became a Bishop with the church. When my brother passed away, and my parents already dead, Bishop Mallory encouraged me to volunteer on a mission to the orphanage run by the Methodist Home and I agreed."

"Would that be the same Bishop Mallory who is currently serving as Secretary General of the World Methodist Council?" asked Mrs. Askew.

"Yes," acknowledged Amanda surprised by Sean's grandmother knowing Bishop Mallory's title within the Church. "Bishop Stewart Mallory."

"Wonderful man," said Mrs. Askew. "Please continue dear."

Amanda did so, "There's not much more to add I'm afraid. I had been working as a nurse with the orphanage for only six months when we were captured."

Sean asked her one more question, "Amanda, do you feel any responsibility towards these girls' and their future?"

"Sean, as you and Mr. Hale know, I feel completely responsible for these girls," said Amanda. "They were entrusted to me when we were captured, and they depend upon me completely right now for their safety and well-being. I would give everything I have to protect them and provide for their futures..."

"Thanks," interrupted Sean. "As I understand it, 'everything you have' equates to approximately three hundred and thirty million Australian dollars, right?"

Jim Hale shifted in his seat when hearing the magnitude of Amanda's fortune. Pastor Denton's eyes grew wide, but Pastor Steve showed no reaction.

Turning to face Jim Hale and the two pastors, Sean said, "We don't have a lot of time here this morning, so I want to get to the point of this meeting. I have already instructed my lawyers to draft the paperwork establishing a foundation which will be funded by a trust in the amount of fifty million US dollars. This foundation's mission will be the rescue, protection, education, treatment and ongoing care for victims of human trafficking. I am going to ask my grandmother to head up this foundation, and I am hoping that the Methodist Church will be the organization that she can turn to for the administration of the foundation."

Sean felt his grandmother take his other hand and squeeze it. He glanced over to her, saw a tear in her eye as she simply nodded her agreement to him. Knowing he had her behind him, he continued to address the men across the table.

"Gentlemen, this foundation will be established, and now that I know my grandmother is in agreement with the role I proposed for her, I am confident that the leadership of The Permanent Fund for The United Methodist Church will also support my plans."

Focusing on Jim Hale, Sean continued, "Mr. Hale, I told you that if Amanda wanted the girls cared for by the Methodist Church that I would make it happen, with or without your cooperation, and I meant it." Turning to face Pastor Denton, Sean added, "Pastor Denton, I want you to also be aware of my conviction to Amanda's desires where these girls are concerned. Amanda's wishes for these girls will be met with or without your cooperation."

"I'm not sure where I come into this..." began Pastor Denton.

Sean interrupted him, "Then let me explain for you and everyone else at this table. The foundation is just money right now, but by this evening I expect it to have a physical home. Amanda and I are in agreement that the foundation will be located at Prestonwood Conference Center and Retreat."

Pastor Denton had turned red, "With all due respect, Mr. Wallace, Prestonwood Conference Center is not for sale. My church takes our stewardship of that property very seriously and I will not simply acquiesce to your grand scheme for this foundation regardless of how much good I think it would do. I will encourage the Church to support the foundation, but I cannot agree to Prestonwood being taken over by it."

Sean glared at the man before responding, "Pastor Denton, I will make this as clear as I possibly can. With God and all of you as my witnesses, I promise you that if Amanda wants Prestonwood to be the home for these girls, it will be the home for these girls. I am simply giving you the opportunity to cooperate in that transition willingly, but don't think for a second that your agreement means anything to me or will affect the outcome I desire. I have done my homework and I know that the conveyance that transferred the property to the church from Mrs. Preston stipulates that it can never be sold. My funding of the foundation is more than adequate to compensate the Church for use of the current property and facilities on it, which will allow for purchase or construction of another conference center should that be determined appropriate. I will go further and donate one hundred and eighty waterfront acres I own on Lake Lanier to the church if you want to use that to build another retreat. While Prestonwood will still be the property of the Methodist Church, going forward the land and all facilities on it will be dedicated solely to the mission of the foundation.

Pastor Steves interjected at this point, "Sean, may I have a minute to explain a few things to my colleagues here?"

"Of course, Sir," Sean said as he sat back in his chair.

"Myles... Jim, did either of you notice the name of this building when you entered it? This building and much of the campus for my church was constructed through a memorial fund established by Mrs. Askew over there in honor of her late husband. I mention this only because these local contributions to my church are a visible illustration for the larger role that the Wallace/Askew families continue to play relative to the United Methodist Church. In Matthew 19:23-26 Jesus tells his disciples that it would be easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven, but I believe our Lord already has a very special place set aside for the entire Wallace/Askew family. Sean and his family are the single largest tithers to the Methodist Church anywhere in the world. Trust me gentlemen, with a single call from Elizabeth Askew, everything that Sean said is going to happen will happen. So, as Sean said, the only question seems to be whether or not it happens with your cooperation or if you get removed from any further involvement through a reassignment that I assure you would occur."

"How do you see the Methodist Home fitting in with your foundation?" asked Hale.

Sean glanced at Amanda before answering, "We see the Atlanta Methodist Home playing a major role in the administration and operation of Prestonwood going forward. Through your leadership Jim, we envision you staffing up the facility with professionals trained to deal with the unique needs that victims of human trafficking and sexual exploitation face. Your reputation and existing relationship within the state and local Child and Family Service organizations will be critical to minimizing the bureaucratic issues these victims will face and expedite their processing through legal channels. Think of Prestonwood as a sort of annex to the current Atlanta Methodist Home."




Heavy Traffic Ch. 09



"I can see how that would work," said Hale. "How soon are you thinking of opening Prestonwood to this new role?"

"Tonight," said Amanda.

Before anyone could comment on her statement, Sean added, "Amanda's right, the girls need to be moved from their current location tonight, and we want them moved to Prestonwood. Amanda and I drove by there on our way here, and judging by the lack of vehicles and people, the facility appears to have enough vacancy to be able to accept the girls and their supervisors from I.C.E. I have already made arrangements for a security team to be in place by this evening just as a precaution."

Seeing the shocked look on Jim Hale's face, Mrs. Askew spoke, "Let me make this easy for you Jim, you figure out what is needed to make the relocation of the girls a reality and I'll make certain that you have everything by tonight. If we need to hire nurses to act as food service workers or maids, we will do it. There are lots of alternatives to any problem you foresee. Get the word 'can't' out of your vocabulary."

"Secrecy is going to be important," said Sean. "The gang that tried to sell them is still out there and may want to get them back. Gather what is needed, but don't let it be known that the arrangements are for these girls. Understood?"

Sean didn't wait for anyone to answer. He stood and took the hand of both his grandmother and Amanda, then led them around the table to the door. "I am taking these lovely ladies to lunch now, but Pastor Steves knows how to get in contact with me if necessary. Let's go forward and do God's work for these girls gentlemen."

Sean, Amanda and Mrs. Askew left the three men discussing how they would present the foundation and Sean's expectations for Prestonwood to their local council, and then to the Church leadership in Nashville. Mrs. Askew called back over her shoulder, "I'll be back in a couple of hours, Brandon. If you and Jim want to sit down and work out more of the details, or need me to make any phone calls, we can handle it when I return."

Both men just nodded as the trio continued out of the building towards the parking lot. As they exited the building, Amanda glanced once again at the name above the door.

"I'm sorry that I never had the opportunity to meet Mr. Askew," she said.

"I am too," said Mrs. Askew. "I know that he would have been very proud of you, as I am. You are a very brave and considerate young lady, and I consider myself blessed to have the opportunity to help you and Sean with this project."

Amanda stopped, forcing Sean to stop beside her, which in turn made Mrs. Askew stop. Stepping around Sean, Amanda embraced his grandmother with all the pent up affection she had been building for this woman since they had met.

"You have no idea what your words mean to me, Beth. Thank you."

As Amanda began to pull away from the embrace, she was pulled back by the surprisingly strong arms of Elizabeth Askew. "It is me who should be thanking you, Amanda. You brought me back my grandson, and you did so in a manner that tells me his wandering days are over. I can never repay you for that act."

Smiling across at Sean's grandmother, Amanda said, "Beth, I think you and I are destined to become wonderful friends."

Seeing the confused expression on Sean's face, both women laughed as they each took one of his hands and continued out to his car.

Sean and Amanda followed his grandmother as she drove the few short blocks to her house. Technically, Sean owned the house that he had lived in with his mother when it was her turn to have custody of him, but after the death of Mr. Askew, his grandmother had moved in. After the death of Sean's parents, Sean had kept the house as a home for his maternal grandmother and as his formal place of residence. It was a large, but unpretentious two-story ranch style house on about a quarter acre in a moderately mature subdivision.

Sean explained that the majority of the houses in the neighborhood still had the original owners living in them, but recent years had seen more and more of them retiring, waiting for the property market to recover before selling their homes to fund their dreams.

Sean parked his car in the driveway next to his grandmother's and they all walked into the house together. Entering through the side door from the driveway, they walked through the mudroom into the spacious kitchen area. Amanda and Sean offered to help Mrs. Askew as she pulled their mostly prepared lunches out of the refrigerator.

"I made Sean's favorite Kielbasa and au Gratin potato casserole last night and it will only take about twenty minutes in the oven to reheat it," Mrs. Askew said. "Sean, why don't you show Amanda around the house while I get things ready here?"

"Are you sure you don't want any help Beth?" Amanda asked.

"I'm sure. You can help me clean up after lunch and we'll have some time to talk then."

Amanda thought she knew what the subject of this talk would be, but Sean couldn't figure out what his grandmother meant by her comment, so he decided to ignore it for the time being. "Follow me," he said to Amanda as he took her hand and led her out of the kitchen.

***

Kimberly Morris had just crossed into Tennessee from Georgia on interstate 75 when her cell phone rang.

Answering without checking the caller ID, she heard her husband on the other end. "Where are you at?" asked Mark Morris.

"I'm just south of Chattanooga, about to transition onto interstate 24. I should be at my office in a few hours, why?"

"Is Tom with you?"

"No, why?"

"The FBI came by his office looking for him this morning so I wanted to give him a heads up. I thought you two were together. What happened?" asked Mark.

"I don't want to discuss this over the phone Mark. I'll be at my office in a few hours."

"Yeah, yeah okay. Anything new on Sean or Amanda Wallace?"

"What part of 'when I get to my office Mark' don't you understand?" Kimberly barked.

"Jeez, alright. I thought you were talking about discussing Tom, not every subject there is. See you when you get here." Mark disconnected the call.

Kimberly returned to her thoughts about DeMarcus and what he had told her. She spent several minutes recalling DeMarcus telling her that she could divorce Mark, and after just speaking with her husband, she found the prospect of ending their charade of a marriage uplifting.

Her relationship with Mark had never been more than a smokescreen for their families and the world. She had used Mark to help hide her interracial relationship with Tom, and Mark had used her to hide his homosexuality from everyone except his lover. Mark stood to inherit millions from his grandfather, but if his sexual orientation ever became known, the inheritance would be history. Tom had discovered Mark's secret years ago, and had been manipulating him with the knowledge ever since.

While Mark still had to worry about people finding out his secret, Kimberly hadn't cared what her parents thought of her seeing someone of a different race since she had left home. It had been Tom and his concern over what his parents would think that had kept her in agreement with hiding their relationship, but with Tom now apparently out of her life, she had nothing to hide any longer.

DeMarcus' confession also made Kimberly consider her true feelings for Tom over all these years. Was it the man she loved, or the situation that the relationship created? She had kissed him for the first time as payment for a bet she had lost, and she realized now that she had pursued and then expanded their relationship because of how excited it made her feel to be doing things that the society she lived in would consider decadent, sinful, and immoral. It was this same desire to do things that went against the mores of her parents and most of her friends that allowed her to willingly agree to whatever Tom had asked her to do.

After DeMarcus had surprised her with his admission of love for her, and she had allowed him to have sex with her for the first time, her thoughts had never wandered far from what her future might hold. DeMarcus had been tender and gentle with her, almost to a fault. While he had definitely pleased her sexually, she wasn't sure if she wanted to be his lover under the terms he had mentioned.

Kimberly knew that Tom Folsom had used her in ways that most people would find disgusting, but she had always done his bidding of her own free will, and she wasn't ashamed to admit that she usually liked it. Kimberly knew she was what most people would consider a slut or a whore, but it's what she enjoyed and she wasn't sure how DeMarcus would accept her wanting to do things that he thought were demeaning to her.

Then thoughts of Sean Wallace crept into her head. Before they had fallen asleep, Tom had told Kimberly that he didn't think Sean and Amanda Wallace were married, just two people teamed up who happened to share the same last name and allowing everyone to assume they were husband and wife. Tom said that as far as he knew, no one had ever heard Sean state that Amanda was his wife, or Amanda say that Sean was actually her husband.

If Sean Wallace wasn't really married, that opened up another possible future for Kimberly. She had felt genuine affection for Sean, and while she couldn't say that she ever loved him, she did remember thinking about their future together and how content that prospect had seemed to her at the time, and it wasn't just because of Sean's money. Maybe she should give Sean another chance before she made a decision on DeMarcus?

***

Amanda couldn't take her eyes off the large framed photo of Sean that held a place of obvious honor above the fireplace. He was dressed in his Marine Corp dress blues and Amanda knew that she had never seen a more spectacular picture of a man in her life. The picture told the story of this man in so many ways. His bravery, devotion to duty, patriotism, and strength were naturally evident, but there was so much more that she saw in the picture, especially in his eyes.

"Sean, do you know one of the major reasons I like being known as Mrs. Wallace?" Amanda asked as he was leading her back to the kitchen.

"No, why?"

"Because Mr. Wallace makes me so proud to be his wife, even if it is only pretend." 

"Pretend to be proud or pretend to be his wife?" Sean teased.

Amanda kissed him on the cheek and said, "Pretend to be his wife. The pride is very genuine."

Pulling her into his arms for an embrace, Sean responded, "Mr. Wallace is proud of Mrs. Wallace too, and he's finding it harder and harder to pretend."

At the end of the hall, Sean opened a door to what was obviously the master suite that had once belonged to his mother. The large four-poster bed still had linens on it that reflected a woman's taste, as did the window coverings and the rest of the décor. 

"This was my Mom's room," he told her as they entered. "I thought that you would like to see it to give you some insight into her that you won't get anywhere else."

At first, Amanda was confused by this statement, but as soon as she was fully in the room where the scene of all four walls could be captured in their entirety, she started to grasp the context of Sean's words. Every wall held dozens of photos - each depicting a sunrise from a different location. In some of the pictures, the location was obvious, such as a sunrise over the skyline of New York City or behind the Eiffel Tower in Paris. Where the sunrise over a tropical beach or other setting was not recognizable to her, the pictures were just as beautiful, but the location was not identifiable.

"Did your Mom take all these pictures?" Amanda asked as she walked around the room studying each one.

"She did," admitted Sean, "as well as the 'partner' photo that goes with each."

Amanda turned to him for an explanation, and he provided it; "My mom would photograph sunrises and sunsets everywhere that her and my father travelled together. She kept the sunrises here in her room, and he kept the sunsets in his room. The first thing my mom would do on mornings when they were apart was to call my father and share her description of one of the sunrises with him. The last thing he would do every similar evening is to call her and share one of the sunsets with her. Whenever they were together, the always made a point of taking the time each day to share the sunrise and sunset. Some of my fondest memories are how they would bring the entire world to a stop and put everything else on hold in order to insure that they shared these daily experiences."

Amanda remembered the words that Beth had spoken to her earlier, "anyone who knows Sean will be able to tell in an instant that his sun rises and sets with you." Pulling him into her arms, she buried her head against his chest and whispered, "That's the life I have dreamed of Sean, and I want it with you more than I can say."

Sean hugged her tightly and replied, "Me too, Amanda. However, I don't ever want us to have to share sunrises and sunsets through pictures. I want every day of my life to begin and end with you beside me."

Taking both of her hands into his, Sean dropped to one knee and asked, "Amanda Wallace, will you marry me?"

Dropping to her knees to join him, Amanda kissed his lips and said, "Just say when. We've already decided on where."

"Amanda, I am already married to you in my heart. I hope you know that. The formalities are not urgent for me, but I definitely want them. I also want your one wedding to be everything you have dreamed it to be, but I don't want you to feel rushed. I'm already yours Mrs. Wallace."

"Those are my sentiments exactly, Sean. However, I dearly want Beth to know that a wedding is in our future."

"Then I leave the honor of announcing our engagement up to you," Sean said as he stood and helped Amanda back to her feet in front of him. "Now, what type of engagement ring would you like?"

Shaking her head, Amanda replied, "I don't want an engagement ring. My mother never had one, and I share her opinion that they are silly tokens that contribute nothing to the love between a man and a woman."

"Well the offer stands if you ever change your mind," Sean said as he led her down the hall towards additional rooms in the house. He showed her through the remainder of the rooms, and then back into the kitchen where his grandmother was just finishing a telephone conversation. While this house was definitely more of a 'home' than the cabin in South Georgia had been, Amanda could not ignore the obvious fact that it didn't appear to be a home for Sean. Every possession of his and every indication that he resided in this house at some time spoke to the transient nature of that time in residence. Amanda supposed that this could be due to him sharing his time between his parent's two houses, but she wasn't convinced this was the case.

Seeing them enter the kitchen, Beth Askew said, "Perfect timing. I just turned off the oven. Sean, I was just talking to Carol and she said some former Secret Service agents have come to her house to protect her. Do you know what that is all about?"

"Yes I do Grandma, and your own detail should be arriving here shortly. The gang that brought the girls here knows that Amanda and I have them, and may try to use you or Grandma Wallace as leverage to get us to return what they feel is their property. Kirby and I felt that you and Grandma Wallace should have some protection until this matter is resolved."

Beth Askew simply smiled at her grandson and said, "If you feel it's necessary Sean, you'll get no argument from me or Carol." Turning to Amanda she said, "Did Sean do well as a host?"

"Most definitely, Beth. The last part of the tour when he proposed to me set a standard for hospitality that will be hard for anyone else to match."

Amanda was disappointed by Beth Askew's lack of surprise or excitement at the announcement of her engagement. Seeing this on Amanda's face, Beth said, "I am ecstatic for both of you, but by no means surprised. I suppose the formalities need to be dealt with, but it was clear from the first time I saw you two together that you being husband and wife was a foregone conclusion, and your playacting the roles was a self-fulfilling acceptance of this reality by each of you. Did Sean show you the pictures?"

"Oh yes Beth, he certainly did!" Amanda kissed Sean on the cheek. "If I hadn't been head over heels in love with Sean before, that would have certainly sealed the deal."

"So when is the big day?" asked Beth.

"Yet to be determined," said Sean. "We want to get married in the Chapel at Prestonwood, but I don't believe either of us feels any urgency as to when it has to happen."

Amanda added, "I am a lucky girl to already have Sean's name, so now that I have his heart, the formalities as you call them are of little significance to me. Although, I will definitely want them taken care of before we have children."

"Do you plan on retaining your Australian citizenship?" asked Beth as she took plates from the cupboard. Amanda came around the island in the kitchen to help her.

"I haven't given it any thought," admitted Amanda. "I'm not even sure what my status in the United States is right now to be honest with you."

"That reminds me," said Sean. "We haven't heard from Mickey today. Let me give her a call and see what her plans are. She was trying to get back to Atlanta this afternoon." He walked over to the breakfast area to place the call, but was back in a few seconds. "No answer. I left her a message"

Beth Askew said, "Food's hot, so let's have some lunch while you two tell me your plans to make me a great grandma."

Kissing Sean, Amanda said, "Beth, the prospect of giving you great-grandchildren with this man brings me more joy than I ever thought possible." Beth Askew and her grandson were both beaming as they sat down at the table.

They had finished their lunch and were chatting about plans for the foundation when the doorbell rang. "I'll get that," said Sean as he rose from the table and headed for the front door.

Amanda stood and began clearing their dishes from the table. Beth joined her by taking the left overs to a counter and preparing the dishes for the refrigerator. Sean reappeared a few minutes later, followed by a man and a woman.

"Grandma, Amanda I would like to introduce you to Jordan and Taylor Zorn. They are the protection detail that Kirby has assigned to you Grandma."

Beth wiped her hands on a paper towel and then walked over and shook hands with the couple. Amanda stood back and just observed the couple. Jordan had shoulder length brunette hair tied in a ponytail, an infectious smile, and the tanned toned body of an athlete that participated in several outdoor sports. Amanda had seen women like her at the Olympics, usually standing on the center podium receiving a gold medal. Her husband, Taylor was a handsome, yet intimidating presence in his own right. He was six foot six inches in height at least, had black hair cut short in a style common to military officers, and a muscular physique that seemed more natural than developed through effort or exercise. As soon as he smiled however, any intimidation factor disappeared. If Jordan's smile was infectious, Taylor's could only be described as "fatal". Amanda thought this couple could make a living as models or actors in movies, and wondered just how good they were at protecting people with looks like they had.

Jordan and Taylor both greeted Beth warmly as Sean described their background and qualifications, "The Zorns are with the Secret Service. They are part of the protective detail for the First Family, but since the President and his family are at Camp David until the end of next week, Kirby was able to borrow the Zorns for a few days."

Amanda stepped over and also greeted the Zorns, relieved to know that Beth was indeed in good hands.




Heavy Traffic Ch. 09



"Grandma, if you don't mind, I was going to put the Zorns in my old room," said Sean.

"That would be fine," said Beth. Turning to the couple she added, "Please make yourselves completely at home."

"Thank you Mrs. Askew," said the Zorns in unison.

"Let me get the Zorns settled," said Sean, "then Amanda and I will need to be heading out."

Sean led the couple to the stairs and up to their room while Amanda and Beth returned to cleaning up the kitchen. "They seem like a nice couple," said Beth, "but I hope they aren't needed for long."

"I'm sure it will only be a day or two," said Amanda encouragingly. 

Beth smiled back at her. "Amanda, I know that you have only known Sean for a very short time, but I'm interested in your perception of him."

Amanda considered her answer before responding, "I love him with all my heart, so naturally my perspective will be jaded by that fact."

"I understand," said Beth. "Please try to be as objective as you can though."

"From almost the first real conversation I had with Sean, long before I learned about his wealth, I knew he was destined to build cathedrals," said Amanda. "And I knew I wanted to build them with him."

"You want to build churches with Sean?" asked Beth, her confusion obvious.

Amanda smiled and took Beth's hand, "Let me explain what I mean by that metaphor. When I was young, my father told me a story about a rich man who came to visit a cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, 'Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof, No one will ever see it.' The workman replied, 'Because God sees.'

Beth, no one can say who built many of the great cathedrals - there is no record of the names for the workers. Those cathedral builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished, they made great sacrifices and expected no credit, and the passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything. Sean is destined to build cathedrals - to do selfless work for the benefit of others without seeking credit or praise. I want to, no I need to be part of that with Sean."

Beth embraced Amanda and said, "That is a very astute description of Sean, but there is another metaphor that can be used to describe Sean. While he would cringe at being compared to royalty, in many ways Sean is like a prince who is heir to the throne, but has been reluctant to wear the crown. Sean is one of the most powerful men in this country. Financially, politically, and physically, there are few people who can best Sean if he doesn't want them to. I was very proud of him today at the church when he stood up for your desire to have Prestonwood be the home for your girls. I think Sean sees in you the queen he wants to share his kingdom with. You bring him confidence that he can have the normal life he craves, while assuming the responsibilities he inherited and building the cathedrals you both want."

Amanda thought back to yesterday and the way that Sean had encouraged her to act on his behalf to find rooms for the girls and get his employees to respect his position as owner of Wallace Enterprises. Reflecting on this, she saw instantly what Beth was referring to. Sean had trusted her enough to share his kingdom with her.

"You're right Beth, Sean would not like the comparison to royalty, and while I suppose it fits, I believe you misunderstand Sean. He is not reluctant to be 'king'; he is reluctant to be treated like a king. Sean and I have so much in common, from our last names to our both inheriting substantial wealth. I recognized my own values in Sean, and I believe that he recognized his in me."

Sean reentered the kitchen before Beth could respond, but her gleeful expression and affectionate squeeze of her hand told Amanda that her words had hit the right note with Sean's grandmother.

Stepping beside Amanda, Sean put his arms around her and kissed the side of her head. "Are you ready to go? We have a long way to travel before dinner."

"Sean, I really want to meet your grandmother Wallace, but I am concerned about being so far away from the girls..."

Beth interrupted her, "You two go ahead and visit with Carol. Amanda, I'll make sure the girls are taken care of."

"I have taken your concerns into consideration, Amanda," said Sean. "We'll be flying in a chartered plane from Peachtree-DeKalb Airport into Sumner Regional Airport. We will be only an hour away by air in case we need to get back for any reason."

"That's a relief," said Amanda. "I guess I can stand being an hour away, especially with Beth involved now. Thank you both."

"So are you ready Mrs. Wallace?" asked Sean.

"I am Mr. Wallace."

Taking her hand, Sean addressed his grandmother on the way out of the kitchen through the mudroom door, "Jordan and Taylor will be down shortly to escort you back to the church. Thanks for putting up with my concerns grandma, and for helping with Prestonwood."

"Anything for you Sean, you should know that. Travel safe you two."

Sean decided not to stop again at Prestonwood on the way to the airport. Amanda's previous acceptance of it as the spot for them to get married eliminated the immediate need for her to see the chapel. Once he had turned back onto Peachtree Industrial Boulevard, it was a straight shot to Peachtree-DeKalb Airport.

"What is the fascination with Peach trees in this area?" asked Amanda.

"Georgia is the 'Peach State'," said Sean. "I guess it's kind of like Australia and kangaroos."

"But we don't name every street, airport, park, and portable restroom after kangaroos," she countered. Please don't take this the wrong way, but it gives the impression that no one here has any creativity or imagination. It's almost like parents giving all their children the same name. Regardless of how proud you might be of your Peach trees, it just seems lazy to name everything the same."

"I doubt that many people ever thought of it quite that way, but I can see your point," said Sean. "There is a joke I heard once that asks how you know that Jesus wasn't born in Georgia."

"I'll bite," said Amanda.

"Because you could never find three wise men and a virgin here," Sean said.

Finding the entrance to the offices for World Wings Air, he parked and went to the back of the car to get their duffle bags. Amanda had her messenger bag over her shoulder, and while Sean was retrieving their other bags, she went to the driver's seat and removed the pistol from underneath it and placed it in a compartment next to her computer.

"I don't think you're going to need that," said Sean, "but if it makes you feel better to have it, feel free."

Amanda joined Sean at the back of the car, and as she walked with him towards the entrance to the building said, "I'm not taking it with any thought of needing it. I just don't like the idea of leaving a loaded and unsecured weapon unattended for as long as we're likely to be gone."

"I suppose my rural wanderings have made me a bit lax where gun security is concerned," said Sean. "I'll get a lockbox installed as soon as possible. Would that be adequate?"

"That's a good start, but I am also an advocate for trigger locks on all guns when they are not in use. They really help prevent accidents more than most people realize."

"I will defer to your judgment," said Sean as he led her to the counter of the charter flight company. There was a young man behind the counter who appeared to be of college age, wearing a polo shirt with the World Wings logo embroidered on it and a name tag that read, "Caleb".

"Good afternoon," said Caleb in greeting. "May I help you?"

"Hi," said Sean. "We have a Citation CJ3 reserved for a round trip flight to Sumner Regional this afternoon. The last name is Wallace."

Caleb checked his computer screen before responding, "I have that reservation here, but the form of payment isn't listed. The charter fee for your flight is $7,500. How would you like to cover that?"

Sean stared at Caleb for a minute before glancing at Amanda, smiling with a look that clearly communicated, "Here we go again." Amanda decided to stay out of this transaction entirely to see how Sean handled it without her input.

"Caleb, please review the reservation again. I'm sure you will realize that no payment is required."

Caleb looked back at his computer. "I'm sorry Mr. Wallace, I don't see where any payment arrangements have been made for this reservation..."

"Fine," said Sean as he reached into his front pocket, pulled out his driver's license and single credit/debit card. "Use this card for payment. Debit please."

Caleb accepted the card and ID, but then said, "A transaction of this amount will likely require approval from the card issuer."

"Why don't you run it through your system and see what happens?" Sean suggested.

Caleb swiped the card and then handed Sean a pin pad so he could enter his four-digit personal identification number. The word "Processing" still remained on Caleb's computer screen for a few minutes before the phone rang.

"World Wings PDK, Caleb speaking," answered Caleb. Amanda and Sean stood back from the counter as a courtesy while Caleb was on the phone.

"This is Tracy Sanchez in accounting. Did you just attempt to process a debit charge for $7,500 to a card belonging to Sean Wallace?"

"Yes, why? Was it declined?" Caleb felt the twinge of an impending smirk.

"Of course it wasn't declined," said Tracy. "The reason I'm calling is to find out why a debit card belonging to the owner of the company is being processed at all? Have you verified the identity of the person who presented the card to you?"

Caleb looked down at the driver's license Sean had provided. "Yes, I have a current ID in my hand."

"If the person is not Sean Wallace say the words 'fuel truck' as a signal and I will have the police dispatched to your location. If it is Sean Wallace, I suggest you cancel the charges and accommodate his request without further delay."

"I'll take care of it," said Caleb as he hung up the phone. Sean and Amanda stepped back to the counter.

"Is there a problem with my card?" asked Sean.

"Not at all Mr. Wallace," said Caleb as he handed the card and driver's license back to Sean. "I apologize for not recognizing who you were."

"Don't give it a second thought Caleb, you were just doing your job. I should have taken more care in providing relevant details when I made the reservation."

"Thank you Mr. Wallace. Your flight crew is in the Ready Room, so I'll inform them that you are ready to depart. The aircraft is prepared, so they should be ready for you in in just a few minutes."

"Thanks Caleb."

Walking over to stand by the double glass doors leading out to the planes on the tarmac, Sean and Amanda set their bags down on a chair while waiting. Amanda put her arms around Sean's neck and kissed him on the lips.

"Would you have really paid to fly on a plane that you technically own?" she asked with a grin.

"Sure," said Sean. "Caleb really was just doing his job, and imagine the stories he would be able to tell his friends and coworkers about getting the owner to pay to fly on his own plane. Why embarrass someone just because they don't know who I am, when I try so hard to avoid the notoriety that would allow them to recognize me?"

"You will make a wise and benevolent king," said Amanda with admiration.

"What?" asked Sean.

"Oh nothing, just thinking about something your grandmother said."

Before Sean could inquire further, an attractive Black woman dressed as a pilot came through a door behind the counter and approached them.

"Mr. Wallace? I'm Jeannie Sexton. I'll be your pilot today." She extended her hand for him to shake.

Accepting her hand and shaking it, Sean said, "Pleased to meet you Ms. Sexton. Let me introduce Amanda Wallace."

Amanda smiled and shook the pilot's hand as well. "It is a pleasure to meet you."

Smiling back at her, Jeannie said, "I love your accent, Mrs. Wallace. Well, if you're ready we can be wheels up and on our way in about ten minutes."

Nodding to Caleb who pushed a button to release the lock on the glass doors, Jeannie Sexton led Sean and Amanda out to the small corporate jet sitting closest to the building. The door was already open with the stairs extended.

As they approached the plane, Jeannie spoke over the noise of the airport, "Would you like to keep your bags with you or stow them in the belly of the plane?"

Sean and Amanda glanced at each other before Sean made a decision for both of them. "In the belly of the plane would be fine. There's nothing that we can't do without for a few minutes." The pilot opened a door to the cargo compartment and Sean placed both of their duffle bags inside. Amanda kept her messenger bag on her shoulder, but as she followed Jeannie up the steps into the plane, Sean took it from her and carried it so she wouldn't be burdened by it once inside.

Turning from the entrance to the cockpit, Jeanne said, "You two are obviously the only passengers today, so sit anywhere you would like. I'll make an announcement when we're ready to taxi."

The Citation CJ3 had a club seating arrangement with three seats on either side of the narrow aisle. Two of the seats on either side faced towards each other with a table between them, and the third seat on each side sat behind these, facing forward.

"Tough choice," said Amanda.

"How so?" asked Sean.

"Do I want to sit across from you so I can look into your handsome face when we talk, or do I want to sit beside you so I can snuggle against you? Although, I suppose the aisle creates a space between the seats a bit too wide to make snuggling very practical, so maybe the choice isn't that difficult after all."

"You need to consider whether you want to sit facing forward or backwards during the flight then," said Sean.

"That doesn't matter as long as the seat has a good view out a window," Amanda said as she took a rear-facing seat with a window perfectly aligned for her to look out.

Sean placed her messenger back underneath his seat and sat across the table from her. He had just settled down when his cell phone rang.

"Hello?" said Sean

Amanda held up one finger to Sean as she stood and approached the cockpit. Making certain that their pilot wasn't on the radio or involved in something that shouldn't be interrupted, Amanda spoke to Jeannie, "Excuse me, do you know where the Prestonwood Retreat is along the Chattahoochee River?"

Turning to face her passenger, Jeannie said, "No, but it will just take me a minute to find out. Why, do you want to fly over it?"

"Yes please, if it isn't too much trouble."

"Hold on for just a minute, let me call the FBO office and get the coordinates, then we'll know." She switched frequencies on her radio and had her answer within three minutes. "It is pretty close to our assigned flight path," she told Amanda. "Why don't you take a seat on the right side of the plane and I'll let you know when we are approaching it? It will be real soon after we take off, so our altitude won't be too high yet and you should get a pretty good view."

"Thank you," said Amanda as she returned to the cabin and took a seat across from where she had originally sat. Sean was just ending his call.

"Decide to switch sides, or are you trying to get away from me?" he asked teasingly.

"If the seatbelts would accommodate it, I would sit in your lap for the whole flight. Does that answer your question? Please join me as we see Prestonwood from the air."

Sean retrieved her messenger bag and slid across the aisle to join her. "Good idea. I would like to get a birds-eye view of it myself."

"Who was on the phone?" asked Amanda as she fastened her seatbelt.

"That was my Uncle Kirby. He wanted to update me on the plans to transport the girls and their security arrangements once they get to Prestonwood."

"Aren't you counting your chickens before they are hatched?" she asked. "What if there are delays in getting the Church to agree? I'm confident that you and Beth will get us Prestonwood, but are you sure it will be done by tonight?"

"I have no doubt," said Sean as he took her hands into his. "I predict that we will have confirmation by the time we land, but if I'm wrong, the headquarters for the United Methodist Church are in Nashville, and that will be or first stop when we leave the airport."

"I believe you," said Amanda as she raised his hands to her lips and kissed them. "Please tell me about the plans for the girls."

"It's actually pretty ingenious, and typical Uncle Kirby style," said Sean. "At 7PM tonight, a MARTA bus will arrive at the hotel to pick up the girls and their I.C.E. escorts..."

"What's a 'MARTA' bus," interrupted Amanda.

"MARTA stands for Metropolitan Atlanta Rapid Transit Authority. It is the public bus service for most of the metro Atlanta area. Anyway, the girls and their escorts will get on one of these MARTA busses at the hotel and ride in it to the bus maintenance facility at Lindbergh Station. Assuming that the bus will be followed from the hotel, the bus yard can't be seen very well from the street, and there is no access allowed for anyone other than employees of MARTA. The bus will be pulled into a maintenance hangar to obscure it further, and the girls will then be transferred to a different MARTA bus. This bus will leave the yard at the same time as the next fleet of busses begins their scheduled departures, so it will be mixed in with dozens of other identical busses and no one will be able to tell which of these might have the girls on it. This second bus will follow an established route that runs through portions of Gwinnett County, which MARTA doesn't service, on its way to northern Fulton County where its scheduled service typically resumes, so the route of the bus will not raise any flags either. Only the brief detour off the route to drop the girls at Prestonwood will be an indication that this was anything other than normal, and we will have spotters along the route trained to notice anyone following the bus just in case the deception fails to shake a tail."

"Once the girls are at Prestonwood, they will all be housed on the second and third floor of the largest building, Meadow Lodge, with their escorts primarily on the first floor. The building will be protected on the outside by armed security personnel that are all known subcontractors for Uncle Kirby's company, along with three canine teams to patrol the grounds. Uncle Kirby has also arranged for a rapid response team to be on standby from the local joint agency drug task force in case more support is called for during the night. Tomorrow construction begins on a manned security gate at the entrance of the property, electronic fences and intrusion sensors around the perimeter, surveillance cameras, new locks on the buildings, etc. Kirby has even found a bracelet for each of the girls to wear that will allow for them to be tracked by satellite. It will take a few days to get the equipment to Prestonwood, but once it is there, bracelets can be made for each of the girls that resemble Medic Alert or school ID bracelets, with their names, birthdates and any other information engraved on them."

"That all does sound ingenious. Please thank your Uncle Kirby for me. I'll thank you myself," she said as her foot brushed up and down his leg under the table."

"Thanks are not necessary," said Sean as he caressed the back of her hands, "but they are certainly welcomed."

Jeannie Sexton turned to look at her passengers, "Please make certain your seatbelts are securely fastened, we're ready to taxi. We are first for takeoff, so we'll be wheels up in a few minutes. We will be following the interstate highways most of the trip, so you should have good cell phone signals the whole way."




Heavy Traffic Ch. 09



Glancing out the window of the plane at the airport, Amanda pointed for Sean to also look. "Do you see those birds?" she asked, indicating several small dark shapes diving into the high grass along the fence line of the airport.

"Those are Purple Martins," said Sean. "I don't think you have them in Australia. They're members of the Swallow family I think. They are real aerial acrobats as they dive to catch insects. People build houses for them to nest in so that they will stay around their property to keep the insect population under control. I'm surprised to see them here at the airport but there must be some nests around here somewhere."

"They're amazing to watch," Amanda said as she watched the birds in awe of their flight maneuvers.

"My mother told me a story once about Purple Martins that you might enjoy," Sean said as their plane began to roll down the runway preparing to take off.

"I would love to hear it," Amanda said.

"Okay, as soon as we pass over Prestonwood I'll tell it to you."

Within seconds they were lifting off the runway. Jeannie Sexton banked the plane and had them heading north as they continued to gain altitude.

"Keep a watch out the right side of the plane," Jeannie said. "You'll spot the Chattahoochee River shortly. I'll follow its northern bend where it passes Prestonwood, so the property will be along the eastern bank of the river."

Amanda and Sean both focused their attention outside their respective windows. Sean was more familiar with the landmarks in the area, so he was able to help point things out to Amanda as they flew over them.

"That wide road down there is Peachtree Industrial Boulevard. We took that on our way to Prestonwood this morning," he told her.

"Do you see the river yet?" Amanda asked.

"I see a break in the trees where the river is, but not the river itself yet," answered Sean. "It should be visible in a few seconds though."

Amanda was turned as sideways as her seatbelt would allow and Sean couldn't remain focused on the landscape as he saw her profile before him. Her expression reminded him of a little girl watching in anticipation for her greatest desire to be fulfilled. His heart was instantly filled with joy as he admired her gazing out the window, and he was more convinced than ever that her happiness was his purpose in life.

"I think I see it," exclaimed Amanda, forcing Sean to tear his focus off of her and back to the scenery outside the plane.

"Good job," Sean complimented. "That's Prestonwood right there. How did you recognize it so easily?"

"When we were standing along the river earlier, I bent a tree branch into a position I would later be able to recognize," Amanda told him.

Sean turned to her with his jaw against his chest. "Even if you did," he said, "How could you see that from this high up?"

As their path took them past the retreat, Amanda smiled at him and squeezed his hand. "I'm teasing you, of course. I just recognized the dock because it is directly across the river from that log cabin looking house down there."

"You certainly are very observant," Sean admitted to her.

Leaning across the table to kiss him she said, "A talent of mine which you might do well to remember, Mr. Wallace."

"I'll not only remember it, Mrs. Wallace, I'll cherish it along with all your other talents." 

"I do love you, Sean."

"I think that talent is the one I will cherish the most," he said. "So, do you want to hear about Purple Martins now?"

"Please," Amanda said as she settled back into her seat to face him.

Sean told her how the day after his parent had met, his mother had packed a picnic lunch for her and his father. They had found a small meadow in the hills above Helen, Georgia where they spread out a blanket and enjoyed getting to know one another as they ate and watched a flock of Purple Martins diving into the grass to feed on the insects. The following week, after each of his parents had returned to their respective colleges, his father wanted to send a bouquet of roses to his mother. He contacted a florist and made arrangements for the delivery, dictating exactly how he wanted the accompanying card to read. Later that evening he received a phone call from his mother with an obviously peeved tone to her voice.

"Please explain Mr. Wallace what it is about me that reminds you of Purple Martians?" she demanded. "Is that supposed to be some sort of insult, because I don't see any humor in it at all...?"

"Purple Martians?" his father had replied. "What are you talking about?"

His mother then responded, "Why would a boy go to the trouble of sending these beautiful flowers to a girl and then include a card that reads, 'Thinking of Purple Martians and you.'?"

His father had to call her back because she had hung up on him when his laughter prevented him from talking for well over two minutes. When he was finally able to get her to listen to him, he explained, "The delivering florist obviously made a mistake with the card. The message should have read, 'Thinking of Purple MARTINS and you.' It was in reference to our picnic."

Amanda was laughing so hard that Jeannie Sexton turned to see what the commotion was all about. When she was finally able to speak, she wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes and said, "Sean that is such a wonderful story. I hope we have many stories to tell our children just as memorable."

"I think we can count on it, Mrs. Wallace."



Heavy Traffic Ch. 10



The one hour time change allowed Sean and Amanda to arrive at the airport in Tennessee only minutes after their departure from Atlanta. Sean had previously arranged for a car and driver to meet them, so within five minutes of Jeannie Sexton opening the door of the aircraft for them, they were seated in the back of the car heading out of the airport. Sean had advised their pilot to check into the Wallace hotel property adjacent to the airport where a room was reserved for her. He would contact her there when they were ready to fly back to Atlanta.

Amanda snuggled up next to Sean on the back seat, "What's your plan for the afternoon? Are we going directly to your grandmother's house?"

Sean put his arm around her and kissed the top of her head as he replied, "I was planning on going into the office first if that's okay with you. I don't want to spend too much time there until we have a better picture of the overall situation with what Tom Folsom has been doing, but I want to check on Moe and meet with an old friend about implementing some new security measures for the building. I also have one of my cars parked in the garage there that I want to get for us to use while in town."

The ringing of a cell phone made both of them reach for their own devices. Sean answered his and greeted Mickey, "Hi Mickey, are you heading back to Atlanta?"

"Not yet," she said. "I hope you don't mind me using your cabin for another night."

"It's yours for as long as you need it," Sean told her. "What's the situation there?"

Amanda rested her head on his shoulder and looked out the car window as her first exposure to the Tennessee scenery passed by them, all the while keeping her ear on at least Sean's side of the conversation between him and Mickey. The sky was clear and when gaps in the trees permitted, Amanda saw a vista that was breathtakingly beautiful. Rich farmland was evident along both sides of the road, and she thought that she caught an occasional glimpse of a wide river or lake off in the distance. She assumed it was the wide river they had flown over right before landing. Sean had told her that it was the Cumberland River, and that his house was along its shores a few miles father down.

"The FBI found the body of the Seminole County deputy whose uniform the assassin that got to Sheriff Smith used to gain access to the jail." Mickey was telling him. "The body was discovered in a gas station bathroom and we are hoping that surveillance tapes at the location provide us with some way of identifying who the assassin is. So far, there are only a few crew members of the ship with any knowledge of their cargo, but what they know is very compartmentalized and hasn't been of much value to us yet. The Customs agent who released the container without inspection is still in the wind, but we have some good leads on him. It would appear that most of the arrangements for the shipment of the girls were done on-line through manipulation of existing systems and databases. The forensic investigation on these fronts will take some time, and depending on how good the hackers were, may result in being dead ends for us."

"Any word on Tom Folsom yet?" Sean asked.

"His rental car was found parked at a hotel near the Atlanta Airport, but a review of surveillance tapes shows that it was dropped off there this morning by someone other than Folsom. No sign of him or Kimberly Morris so far."

"Okay, so where do you go from here?"

Mickey was silent for a moment before responding, "The FBI will continue beating the bushes and trying to establish ties between the various players we have identified so far. Have you made any arrangements for the girls or do I need to get them moved?"

Sean filled Mickey in on his and Amanda's plans for Prestonwood and Kirby's strategy to get the girls relocated there this evening. Mickey was impressed with the description of the location selected as well as the use of city busses to conceal the movement of the girls.

"I look forward to seeing Prestonwood," Mickey said. "It sounds like a wonderful place for the girls to get adjusted to life here in America. I will let the Director of Enforcement and Removal Operations know that the Methodist Church will be sponsoring the girls and I'm sure that he will expedite the necessary processing of the required paperwork to establish their legal citizenship status. The fact that they are orphans with sponsorship by the Methodist Church will make things easier by far."

"I know that Amanda will appreciate anything you can do to make the transition as painless as possible for the girls. If you need anything from either of us, please let me know."

Amanda's head on Sean's shoulder allowed her to hear most of both sides of the conversation between him and Mickey. She remained silent, but squeezed and caressed various parts of Sean's arm to convey her sentiments when she felt it was appropriate to do so. Her focus on their conversation was interrupted when her own cell phone rang. Moving away from Sean, she quickly answered the ringing phone, "Hello?"

"Hello Amanda, this is Beth. Did you and Sean arrive in Tennessee already?"

Glancing over at Sean and seeing his curious expression she said, "Yes Beth, we just landed. We're heading to Sean's office right now. Any word on our plans for Prestonwood?"

"That's the reason for my call, dear. There will be no opposition from the Church to the exclusive use of the Prestonwood Resort as the permanent home of the foundation. There will be quite a bit of paperwork and other arrangements made for moving some events that had already been scheduled for Prestonwood, but as of tonight, your girls have a permanent home."

"Oh Beth, I can't thank you enough. Is there anything you need me to do?"

"I can handle things here. In fact, I should be thanking you for involving me in this project. The more I get to know Jim Hale and understand the work of the Methodist Home, the more passionate I am becoming about their mission. The foundation will be my primary focus, but I now see ways that I can contribute even more to helping the children served by the church in ways I hadn't considered before."

"I know exactly what you mean," said Amanda. "Working with the girls at the Methodist Home in East Timor affected my life more than I ever would have imagined."

"Well, I just wanted to put yours and Sean's minds at ease about Prestonwood. I need to get back with Jim Hale and continue making arrangements to staff the facility by this evening. Please give Sean a kiss for me, and you two enjoy your time in Tennessee. I wanted to also prepare you for meeting Carol Wallace. I didn't want to discuss this in front of Sean, and you and I didn't have enough time alone, but I can't let you go in without knowing what to expect."

Beth proceeded to explain things to Amanda for several minutes, with Amanda just listening politely. Beth concluded with her assurances again that the girls would be taken care of and that Amanda shouldn't worry about them, "I'll take care of things here until you get back."

"I understand Beth and thank you once again." Amanda disconnected the call and returned her head to Sean's shoulder. He was just ending his call with Mickey.

He was saying, "So you plan on being back to the cabin by 5 PM for your conference call?"

"I should be there well before five actually. I would like to have time to take a shower and decompress before the call, so I'm heading there as soon as we're finished with this call. I would have already left for the cabin, but your warning about cellular service was spot-on. From the time I leave Bainbridge or Donaldsonville I am without coverage and out of communication until I get to your cabin."

"That's not a bad thing unless you have to work," chuckled Sean.

"Or if you had a companion to talk to and keep you company," hinted Mickey. "Your cabin is a nice retreat but I would enjoy it and the surrounding area more if you were here to play host and show me around,"

Amanda patted Sean's arm and winked at him when she heard Mickey's suggestion. Sean decided to try and derail Mickey's ambitions.

"Amanda and I would love to have you as our guest at the cabin for a more relaxing stay once everything settles down..."

Mickey was silent for a moment before responding in a tone that expressed her disappointment vividly, "I wouldn't want to intrude on the two of you, but thanks for the offer. I need to run now, but I'll call you once I get to the cabin so you know that I am in communication range once more. Bye." Mickey didn't wait for a reply before ending the call.

Amanda gazed up into Sean's eyes with an expression that was both lustful and dreamy at the same time. "I love you Mr. Wallace. When do you think we might get another chance to spend some time together as husband and wife? I think our marriage needs a lot more consummating."

Sean pulled her onto his lap and kissed her as passionately as their environment would allow, but it was enough to take the breath away from both of them. Once he had recovered Sean said, "I want to spend every night for the rest of my life being the husband that you want and deserve in your bed."

"And I need to be the wife you want and deserve in yours Sean," Amanda moaned as she snuggled against him again.

They rode in silence the few remaining miles before their car exited the Vietnam Veterans Highway at exit 3, which took them onto Highway 31E towards Gallatin. Just prior to West Main Street / Johnny Cash Parkway becoming Gallatin Pike North, the car pulled into a business park. The development was anchored by a large ten story building that had lettering identifying it as "Wallace Enterprises". The driver brought the car around to the front entrance, but Sean asked him to pull around to the adjoining parking garage at the side. Sean extracted a card key from his pocket and handed it to the driver for him to use for opening the security gate blocking the entrance to the garage.

Once the gate was open, the driver returned the card key to Sean and drove into the garage. Sean directed him down two aisles until they had reached a section of reserved parking places. Indicating a Volvo XC90 SUV that was virtually identical to the car they had left at the airport in Atlanta, Sean asked the driver to pull up behind it and let them out. When the car had stopped, Sean handed the driver a hundred dollar bill and told him he could just remain in the car if he popped the trunk so Sean could get their bags out. The driver insisted on helping, but Sean assured him that he could handle the small bags and thanked the driver once again.

Amanda exited the car and stood beside the Volvo as Sean retrieved their belongings. After closing the trunk to the limo, Sean pulled a key ring from his pocket and pressed the release on the key to unlock the back of the Volvo.

"Your key for this car looks identical to the one for your other car," noticed Amanda. "How do you tell them apart?"

"I don't," replied Sean. "The factory in Sweden opposed it, but I insisted that one set of keys work on both cars when I bought them. Once you feel comfortable driving on the proper side of the road, you will get a key that fits both cars as well."

"Oh we are going to have so much fun," exclaimed Amanda. "Identical computers, cell phones, and now cars. The opportunities for confusion will definitely keep things interesting."

Sean laughed, "You forgot to mention identical last names. That's where it started. I actually am looking forward to demonstrating to the world just how much of a couple you and I have become, and if having identical belongings drives that point home, then I will embrace that concept."

He finished stowing their duffle bags, and then looked to Amanda. Indicating the messenger bag on her shoulder he asked, "Do you want to stow that or keep it with you?"

"I think I'll keep it with me. I may want to respond to a few e-mails while you take care of your business."

Sean smiled, took the messenger bag from her shoulder and placed it on his. He then closed the hatch and relocked the car. As soon as his hands were free, Amanda flew into his arms.

"Why don't you start by embracing me?" she said.

Sean pulled her against his body and lifted her off her feet with his embrace. Amanda squealed as he spun her around before setting her down and taking her by the hand.

"Come on," he said. "Let's get some business taken care of so I can get you out of here and take you shopping before we head home for you to meet my grandmother. Since Grandma Beth and her have already spoken, I can assure you that Grandma Carol is planning a formal dinner in your honor. I thought that you knowing this, you might want to stop and buy something new to wear. Rivergate Mall is just down the road."

Amanda was wearing suitable attire for lunch with Grandma Askew, but if Grandma Wallace had planned something more formal for their dinner, she would definitely need some different clothes.

"Is there anything that you don't think of?" Amanda asked in amazement. "You are seriously the most considerate person I have ever met."

"You are now my life, Amanda. Considering your wants and needs, even before you realize them is what my love is all about."

"I only hope that I can be as fulfilling to you, Sean. I know that my love, respect and devotion for you is growing exponentially every minute that I know you. You make me want to be the best I can be where you are concerned."

As the elevator arrived at their level and the doors opened, Sean led Amanda inside and pushed the button for the top floor of the building. He then took her into his arms for one more kiss before they reached their destination. Changing the subject as the elevator began its ascent, Sean said "I am supposed to meet Bill Lester here in a few minutes. He used to be Chief of the Campus Police at Vanderbilt University and I'm trying to talk him into accepting a position as head of security for Wallace Enterprises."

Stepping off the elevator, Amanda saw a lobby area with one wall of windows providing a panoramic view of a wide river in the foreground and a city skyline which she assumed was downtown Nashville off in the distance. The furnishings were sparse, with only a few chairs and potted plants on the floor, but the walls were covered with several professionally framed photographs of select Wallace Enterprises company locations. It appeared that all of the different business operations were represented in at least one photo and she let her eyes roam over each of them as Sean led her to the receptionist seated at a desk blocking entrance to the inner sanctum of the executive offices. As Sean approached her, she presented a full-facial smile that made her interest in him evident, but it was obvious to Amanda that she didn't recognize who Sean was.

"Good afternoon, may I help you?" she asked Sean.

"I don't think we've met," Sean said to her. "I'm Sean Wallace."

"I'm pleased to meet you Mr. Wallace. Do you have an appointment with someone?" Looking at the name plate on the desk Sean said, "No, Ms. Kirkland, this is more of a surprise inspection of the troops. You don't have to notify anyone since I know my way around." 

"I can't let visitors in without an escort," Karen Kirkland replied.

Turning to Amanda, but not lowering his voice so that the receptionist was certain to hear his words he said, "I am getting so very tired of this."

Sean pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number. His call was answered immediately and he said into his phone, "Please have Ms. Kirkland at the tenth floor reception desk escorted from the building. Her employment with the company is terminated immediately."

Returning his phone to his pocket Sean addressed Karen Kirkland in a matter-of-fact tone, "Your last act as an employee of my company will be to open that door for me."

In a surprised yet defiant tone, Karen said, "You can't terminate me because I don't work for Wallace Enterprises, I work for Tri-Star Partners. So unless you have an appointment I'm going to have to ask you to leave before I call security." She pressed a button on her desk before Sean could stop her.

Just as she finished her statement, the elevator doors slid open and two uniformed police officers stepped off. Sean introduced himself and said, "I had wanted you to escort a former employee from the building, but Ms. Kirkland has just informed me that she isn't an employee of my company after all. Consequently, I would like her arrested for trespassing."

"Yes Mr. Wallace," said one of the officers as he stepped around the desk, pulled a shocked Karen Kirkland from her chair and proceeded to place her in handcuffs.

"I'm not trespassing," she exclaimed. "I am authorized to be here as an employee of Tri-Star Partners."

"The problem with that logic," Sean told her, "is that Tri-Star Partners has no authority relative to Wallace Enterprises. Maybe you should communicate that fact to your bosses if you can get them to bail you out of jail."

Sean simply nodded at the officers and they returned to the elevator with their prisoner being escorted between them. After the elevator doors had closed and it began its descent, Sean smiled at Amanda and said, "Maybe I shouldn't have taken my frustration out on her, but she just rubbed me the wrong way."

"I'm glad you did what you did," said Amanda as she kissed his cheek. "I was about to see how well Ms. Kirkland could fly." She nodded towards the wall of windows and smiled wickedly.

"Well, I think we will probably encounter more just like her before things get back to normal," Sean said. "Why don't you go over to the doors and I'll buzz them open for us?"

Amanda walked over to the doors and waited as Sean walked around the receptionist's desk and pushed the door release button under its top. When she heard the door latch click, Amanda pulled the door open and waited for Sean to join her. As he approached her, his cell phone chimed indicating a text message.

Glancing at the screen he said, "Bill Lester is waiting for me in the lobby. I better go get him and give him a quick tour of the building on the way up."

Glancing into the inner office space, Sean indicated a tall African-American woman about half way down the expansive open area. "That's Moe down there. Why don't you go introduce yourself and have her set you up in an office so you can check your e-mail? I'll bring Bill back up and introduce him to you."

"Sounds like an excellent plan," Amanda said as she took her messenger bag from Sean's shoulder. "I have been looking forward to meeting Moe." She kissed him and continued into the room as Sean returned to the elevators. None of the employees appeared to notice Amanda or pay her any attention as she stepped into the inner office area.

Amanda stood and examined the area in front of her for a minute, noticing several modifications that seemed rather recent. Where the same wall of floor to ceiling windows present in the lobby area had obviously once continued into this section of the building, there were now three large mahogany walled office suites built out into the room. The center of the room was filled with cubicles with four foot high walls where employees remained focused on their individual tasks, either working on computers, talking on phones, or both.

Amanda would have had to be blind not to notice that almost every cubicle was occupied by an attractive woman. They all appeared to be under thirty years of age, and except for a consistent overly made-up look, they all appeared professionally dressed. Several of them glanced up at her as she passed and a few examined her with interest but none spoke to her. 

Amanda's attention was drawn to the inside wall of one cubicle when she saw a picture tacked to it that she recognized. Stopping at the opening to the cubicle, she noticed that the picture which had caught her attention was a smaller version of the portrait of Sean in his Marine Corps dress uniform that she had seen hanging at Beth's house. When the young woman in the cubicle noticed Amanda and turned to face her, Amanda also saw several other pictures of Sean on the walls of the cubicle, most from newspaper press clippings that appeared several years old.




Heavy Traffic Ch. 10



"May I help you?" the woman asked as she paused her work on the computer and turned to face Amanda. Her name plate said her name was Monica Franklin. She was an average looking woman with mousy brown hair and a pale face too heavily made up to compensate for the lack of natural color.

"I'm sorry to disturb you," said Amanda. "I just noticed the pictures and wanted a closer look."

Monica saw what Amanda was looking at and smiled warmly. "I don't blame you," she said. "I never get tired of looking at his pictures myself and I get a lot of visitors who come by just to look at them too. I think every woman here is envious of me because of them."

"He's a very attractive man," Amanda agreed. "Did he give you that picture?" Amanda indicated the one of Sean in his uniform.

"I wish!" Monica gushed. "I salvaged it out of the items that were removed from Mr. Wallace's office after he died. It used to be in a nice frame, but I think Mr. Folsom is using that for another picture on his desk now."

"I'm sure he will appreciate your efforts," said Amanda. "I can tell you that I do." She left Monica with a puzzled look on her face as she continued past the executive offices.

Walking past each of those, she noticed the name on each door. The suite closest to the lobby belonged to Mark Morris, Vice President - Hospitality Division. The office next to it belonged to his wife, Kimberly Morris, Vice President - Communications Division. The third and largest office area belonged to Tom Folsom, Senior Executive Vice President - Wallace Enterprises.

Maureen McKenna now sat in one of the several small cubicles, with her's positioned across from the door to an interior office with a name plate that simply read "S. Wallace". Moe was distracted and hadn't noticed Amanda approach. Amanda continued towards Moe's cubicle, smiling at people she passed as they glanced up at her. When she got closer she realized that Moe's distraction was due to her packing items from her desk into a cardboard box. Stepping up outside the cubicle, Amanda addressed Moe, "Going somewhere?"

Maureen McKenna glanced up at the strange woman standing before her. "May I help you?" she asked.

Amanda answered her by raising her left hand and wiggling her ring finger in front of Moe's eyes. She could tell her message was clear as Moe's eyes grew wide and she grabbed Amanda's hand in her own. "Mrs. Wallace?"

"Please call me Amanda. Why are you packing your desk?"

Moe glanced at the doors to the executive offices and said, "Mr. and Mrs. Morris threatened me with forced removal from the building if I didn't leave within a half hour. I thought it best to get what I needed to keep working from my house until you and Sean say otherwise. Where is Sean, by the way?"

"He's meeting a guest in the lobby. Why don't you join me in Sean's office while we wait for him to join us?" Without waiting for Moe to respond, Amanda walked over to the door, opened it and casually strolled into Sean's office with Moe scurrying to catch up behind her. She left the door open so that Sean would know where they were. None of the other employees paid any attention to them if they noticed them at all.

Entering the office, she assumed that it was a converted conference room due to its elongated dimensions. There was a standard office desk positioned at the rear of the office, with a simple high-back chair behind it and two armless side chairs in front for guests. There was a green leather sofa and glass-top coffee table along one wall and a whiteboard on the wall opposite.

Amanda led Moe over to the sofa, set the messenger bag on the floor beside it, and they both took seats. Maureen McKenna was a very attractive woman, with light coffee colored skin, big beautifully smiling eyes, and a statuesque body that would complement virtually anything that she wore. She had stood eye to eye with Amanda when wearing shoes with a half-inch heel, and exemplified Amanda's perception of what a professional woman should look like. Noticing the wedding ring set on Moe's left hand, she imagined that her husband was one very fortunate man to be seen with this woman on his arm.

With obvious and unbridled awe, Moe also assessed Amanda from head to toe. "You are as beautiful as you sound on the phone," she told Amanda.

"How sweet Moe. Tell me what's been going on since the last time we spoke."

"Well," Moe began, "At Sean's request I spent most of the morning tracking down former employees from our various accounting and financial departments that were dismissed and offering them their positions back. Most have expressed interest in returning only if Sean resumes an active role in managing the company, but some are too scared because of the intimidation they have been subjected to by parties unknown, which I assume has some tie-in to Tri-Star Partners. So, we need to be prepared to address that issue if we want to make any progress getting a loyal and experienced staff to return. I didn't have all the contact information at home, so I had to come in to get some of them from my cubicle here. Mr. and Mrs. Morris came in right after lunch, saw me, and started making their threats to have me forcibly removed unless I left the building on my own. That's pretty much where you came in."

"Are Mark and Kimberly both still here?" Amanda asked.

"They are each in their respective offices. I think they're on a conference call with people from Tri-Star Partners discussing how to prevent Sean from regaining control of his company and what to do about all their bank accounts being frozen by Federal Court order. They apparently know that Wallace Enterprises has new funds beyond those under their control, so they're trying to figure out how to gain access to those accounts as well."

"You know about the accounts being frozen?" asked Amanda. "Do the employees, customers or any vendors have concerns that I need to address?"

"I haven't heard that anyone else knows," assured Moe. "I have a connection with the Federal Judge who signed the court order, which is the only reason I know about it."

"If someone wants to access the new funds, they're out of luck there," said Amanda with a grin. "The new funds are mine. I had my lawyers in Australia work with Bryce Pierre to establish the accounts and no one but Sean and myself have access to them."

"Are you still here?" interrupted a voice from the doorway. A well-dressed but weak-chinned man ignored Amanda as he glared at Moe.

When Amanda stood and approached the man, she saw that he was no taller than her. Without a word to him, she placed a hand on his chest, pushed him back far enough for the door to close, and then shut it in his face.

Turning the handle to lock the knob, Amanda turned and smiled to Moe, "Sorry for that interruption. We'll apparently need to weed out a few rude employees. Was that Mark Morris?"

Moe nodded, laughed and clapped her hands in approval as Amanda rejoined her on the sofa.

"Has anyone heard from Tom Folsom today?" Amanda asked once she was settled again. They heard the door knob being jiggled as someone was trying to open it, but ignored this.

"Not as far as I know," said Moe. "I think this is also a subject of discussion on their conference call."

"Has this always been Sean's office?" Amanda asked her.

"Heavens no," replied Moe. "Sean's father had an office along the windows out there where the new castle suites were built. The major difference is that Sean's father, and then Sean after him believed in transparency. The walls to their office were all smart glass. Unless they were holding a meeting that required visual privacy, the view out the windows was shared by everyone on the floor. In all the years that I worked with Sean's father, I only saw him turn the walls opaque twice, and I never saw Sean do it."

"How long have you worked for Wallace Enterprises?"

Moe thought for only a few seconds before responding, "I started when I was seventeen, but that was only part time while I attended college. All told, I have worked here for twenty-one years. Fifteen of those I spent working directly for Sean or his mother before him."

"You worked for Sean's mother? I thought you worked for Sean's father before him."

Moe smiled and said, "I was executive assistant to Sean's father, but I worked in that capacity as a direct report to Sean's mother. She insisted on that arrangement in order to make certain that all of Mr. Wallace's requirements were met. She knew that Mr. Wallace wouldn't look out for himself as well as she would, and she was right. I never knew two people more in touch with the needs of the other than Mr. and Mrs. Wallace were."

"Sean had told me about his parents living apart while he was growing up. It sounded strange in some ways, but it seems to have really worked for them. My parents had a similar ability to know what the other needed, but they were together almost every hour out of the day."

There was increased jiggling of the door handle, and they could now hear raised voices outside the office. Moe looked at Amanda with a concerned expression, but Amanda simply took Moe's hand in hers and smiled at her. She released Moe's hand, grabbed her messenger bag and then rose and walked to the door.

Opening the door, Amanda saw Mark Morris standing behind an attractive blonde woman about two inches shorter than him. They were flanked by four large African-American men in suits. Her opening the door apparently caught them off guard and their heated conversation came to an abrupt end.

Staring out at them, Amanda waited for one of them to explain their presence. When none of them spoke, she simply closed the door and locked it once again. This action was immediately followed by someone knocking loudly on the door from the outside. Amanda opened it, and once again just stared out at the crowd.

"Yes?" she asked, directing her question to the group in general and not to any one individual. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Sean and another man just entering the office area from the lobby.

To Amanda's surprise, Mark Morris was the first to speak, "Who are you and what are you doing in that office?"

"Mr. Morris, do you really think it is your place to question me?" asked Amanda. She could see by the shocked look on his face that he had recognized her voice and knew exactly who she was.

Having never heard Amanda speak, Kimberly Morris didn't benefit from this recognition, "He has every right to question why some stranger is in our office with a soon to be former employee."

"There are two things funny about your statement Kimberly," Sean said as he stepped up and put his arm around Amanda's shoulder. "First, there is nothing at all strange about Amanda - well maybe her accent. Secondly, the soon to be former employee is you, not Moe."

Amanda stood taller than Kimberly, smiling down at her shocked expression. She took Sean's left hand into hers and kissed the ring on his finger in clear view of the crowd of employees that had formed around the cubicles. A man that Amanda didn't recognize, who she assumed must be Bill Lester, stood off to the side watching, but focused most of his attention on Kimberly and Mark Morris.

Turning to address Moe, Sean said, "It's great to see you again Moe. Please go out to your phone and call the police. There should still be a couple of officers in the lobby of the building."

Moe didn't answer, but simply hugged Sean as she walked past him and started out to her desk to make the calls. Other workers continued standing in or around their cubicles straining to see what had just transpired outside the office of the company owner. One of the men with Kimberly and Mark moved to block Moe's path.

"There's no need to call the police," he said. "We're security with Tri-Star Partners and we can handle things here." Staring at Sean he said, "You and your associates need to leave now."

One of the other men stepped around and began to reach for Moe's arm to lead her back towards Sean and Amanda. His hand never got closer than six inches from her arm before he was lying on the floor in an unconscious heap, blood trickling from the side of his mouth.

Amanda had barely felt the absence of Sean's arm from around her shoulders. The other men were initially shocked at seeing this white guy use a single strike of his fingers under their partner's rib cage to render him a convulsive mess. They quickly recovered and began reaching for hand guns holstered under their suit coats.

Amanda doubted that Sean's feet touched the floor as she witnessed him flying between the three men. He seemed to use the force of his blows to each of them to provide the kinetic energy that drove him to the next one. She recognized nothing but feet, elbows, and knees for several seconds before she saw Sean standing in the open doorway across the room. The feral animal look she had seen in his eyes yesterday at the cabin was just subsiding as he studied the defeated men before him.

Two of the men were unconscious on the floor, but the third had been driven into the wall so hard by Sean's strike that his head had penetrated the drywall. His head hit the drywall with such force that it being embedded in the wall held his unconscious body almost fully erect. The fourth man was still writhing in agony from Sean's initial blow to his side, but at least he was conscious.

Blood was leaking from mouths and noses, or what remained of noses, but there was also a trickle of blood from the ear canal of the man stuck in the wall, which Amanda recognized was indicative of a fractured skull. Looking closer at this man, she saw that his face looked as if it had been hit with a baseball bat or similar object. She was relieved to see that he was still breathing, but wondered how much longer he would survive. Bill Lester was examining each man and relieving them of their weapons.

Sean glanced back at Amanda, standing with his gun in her hand, and then glared at Kimberly who had a look of shock such as Sean had never seen.

Seeing his expression, Kimberly snapped out of her daze and stepped next to Mark as they both backed away from where Amanda stood. He addressed Moe, "Maybe you should make that call now. Request an ambulance too. I'll go prop open the lobby door so they can get in."

Sean stepped over bodies and walked to the lobby door. He placed a desk side chair in front of it to keep it from closing before returning to Amanda and once again placing his arm around her shoulder. Amanda noticed that Sean's pulse was as relaxed as if he had just awoken from a nap. He had just decimated four large men and he hadn't broken a sweat.

Neither said a word to Kimberly or Mark as Sean took out his cell phone and made a call. After several rings it was obvious that his call was not being answered, so he disconnected. Looking over at Amanda he said, "Mickey must still be out of cell phone range. I'll have to wait for her to call me when she gets to the cabin."

Turning back to Mark and Kimberly he asked, "Where's your leader, Tom Folsom?" 

"No one knows," said Mark. "He hasn't been heard from since last night."

Sean considered this and then said, "I think it goes without saying that you are both no longer employees of Wallace Enterprises. When the local police get here, I will suggest to them that they contact the FBI, who I happen to know are very interested in chatting with you, Kimberly. I believe that they will also have a few additional questions for you Mark. By the way, I don't think either of you were formally introduced to Amanda."

As he said this, he took her left hand into his and brought the ring on her finger to his lips and kissed it. She leaned up and kissed him on the lips.

"You mean that you two are really married?" asked Kimberly.

"Till death do us part," said Amanda.

"I think the 'for better or worse' part is a bit more positive," teased Sean with a smile. Turning once more to address the Morris' he asked, "Who are these guys?" indicating the three men on the floor but ignoring the one wedged into the wall.

Kimberly glanced from Bill Lester to Sean before she responded with attitude, "They are with Security for Tri-Star Partners. You are going to have some explaining of your own to do once the police get here and see what you have done. These men are authorized to be here under the contract that gives Tri-Star Partners management control of Wallace Enterprises."

"I thought that Bryce Pierre explained all this to you yesterday, but I forgot that you were never on the short list for Mensa membership Kim." Amanda couldn't help giggling at this comment by Sean.

Kimberly glared at her, but Sean ignored this and continued, "There isn't a court in the world that would recognize whatever piece of paper you believe is a contract granting management control of Wallace Enterprises to Tri-Star Partners. I control Wallace Enterprises, and Amanda now shares that control with me. The little stunt you all pulled to have the bank accounts transferred to Tri-Star is a nuisance, but nothing more. In fact, Tri-Star is going to be in a world of hurt for some time because as you have probably already heard, the US Attorney has frozen all of their bank accounts until Wallace Enterprises' assets have all been recovered from them."

"Sean, you don't want to mess with Tri-Star Partners," Kimberly said. "They won't allow you to thwart their plans for Wallace Enterprises. Forget legal aspects of the relationship and focus on trying to stay alive."

Sean ignored this comment as he saw two EMT's and several police officers approaching the door. Amanda stepped aside, allowing him to walk over and introduce himself and Bill Lester to the first police officer entering the room.

Amanda helped Moe slide a couple of chairs from unoccupied cubicles and then told Mark and Kimberly Morris to sit. She had replaced her messenger bag back into Sean's office and now stood behind the Morris' watching Sean and Bill Lester chat with the police as the EMT's examined the unconscious men. She and Moe would occasionally glance at one another and smile or wink.

Once the responding officers verified who Sean and Bill Lester were, they instructed the EMT's to transfer the unconscious men to the jail ward at the county hospital. As each man was placed onto a stretcher for transportation to an ambulance, one of their hands was handcuffed to the frame. Bill Lester handed the guns he had removed from each of the men to the officers, identifying which gun belong to which of the men. Each gun was placed into an evidence bag with the appropriate notations made relative to who had possessed it when the altercation began.

Sean came over to Amanda and kissed her on the lips. "Bill and I need to go to the police station for a few minutes to complete and sign our statements. Would you mind hanging out here with Moe for a while? I shouldn't be more than an hour, then we could leave to go shopping."

Ignoring the audience of employees that had been attracted by the incident, Amanda hugged him tightly and said, "I would be happy to wait here. It will give me a chance to check my e-mails and get to know Moe better. Is there anything you want me to take care of for you while you are gone?"

Sean pulled her into his office so that they were alone and then closed the door. "See if you can identify any more people out there who don't work for me. There will be several police officers in the lobby if you need to have anyone else escorted out."

"I'll take care of it," she assured him. "By the way, we haven't discussed it, but I let Jeremy and Bryce Pierre know of our intentions for our two family businesses. Do you still share my vision in that regard?"

Sean smiled at her with so much love and admiration in his eyes, that Amanda was almost drawn to tears looking at him. "I love you Mrs. Wallace. I am in total agreement with your vision."




Heavy Traffic Ch. 10



"I love you too Mr. Wallace," she said as she opened the door for him. "Now hurry back to me."

Sean kissed the top of her head as he left the office, joined Bill Lester and they exited towards the lobby.

Two of the officers approached Kimberly and Mark. "We'll need you to come with us to the station to make statements and to wait for the FBI. If you do so voluntarily, we can avoid having to place you in custody, but the choice is yours."

Mark started to protest, but Kimberly interrupted him, "Shut up Mark. Let's just go and we'll call a lawyer before saying anything more."

She rose from her chair and then turned to Amanda. "I certainly don't see what attracted Sean to you. I know he isn't into kinky sex, so what is it? How did you snag one of the most eligible men in the country?"

Amanda didn't have a chance to respond before Moe spoke, "The only thing that Amanda needed to attract Sean was for her NOT to be you."

Kimberly visibly snarled at Amanda before she retrieved her purse from her office. The officers kept an eye on her as she did this and then each took an arm of one of the Morris' and led them towards the elevator in the lobby.

***

Tri-Star Partners had been the idea of Jun Kim. As the head of the Korean gangs in and around Atlanta, he had seen the formation of Tri-Star Partners as a way for the three predominant gang operations involving Blacks under DeMarcus Steele, Hispanics under Stephan Mota, and Asians under Kim into a common venture that they would all benefit from while not detracting from their individual gangs' core activities.

Over the years, Tri-Star had served the three gangs well. It provided them all with a legitimate business to front for a variety of other illegal activities, and actually provided a legal means for them to conduct some of them. It was difficult to bring a case of extortion against one of the gangs if the company being extorted had signed a legal management contract with Tri-Star Partners granting them control of their accounts and business operations.

The legitimate nature of Tri-Star had been leveraged by each of the gangs to launder monies and divert illegal assets. Using the financial assets of Tri-Star to leverage commodities options was normal operating procedures for all of the gangs involved in the venture. Unfortunately, when the US Attorney's office froze the bank accounts of Tri-Star Partners to protect the financial assets of Wallace Enterprises, funds leveraged against multiple options were no longer in play. This left each of the gangs exposed to millions of dollars in potential loses if the options fell through because the accounts being used as collateral for the options were frozen when they came due.

Since the inclusion of Wallace Enterprises accounts had been brought about by DeMarcus Steele's gang, he was under significant pressure from Kim and Mota to find a solution fast. If Tri-Star Partners agreed to relinquish control of Wallace Enterprises funds, which totaled just under fifty million dollars, this might appease the US Attorney and get their accounts unfrozen, but the funds had been included in the collateral that each of the gangs had put up for their various leveraged positions and could not be replaced in time to meet the option due dates in most cases. Their accounts might be unfrozen, but the remaining balances would be insufficient to meet their obligations and the gangs would still lose millions of dollars.

When the Morris' had informed DeMarcus that Wallace Enterprises had received additional private funding to cover their operations until the Tri-Star accounts were settled, he began exploring ways that he could use Wallace's own money to buy back his company's funds. Although he had never met Sean Wallace, every description of him that he had ever heard from either Tom Folsom or Kimberly had convinced him that Sean Wallace was a weak, spoiled, and pussy-whipped white boy who preferred to spend time in nature watching birds or something rather than running a business. DeMarcus was confident that he would be able to intimidate Sean Wallace into paying any price demanded of him.

The banks would be closing for the day in a few hours and there wasn't much point making his threats against Wallace obvious until the demands could be acted upon. He also had to concentrate on getting those girls back, not only so that he wouldn't lose his investment and infuriate his customers, but getting them away from the Feds as evidence was also the best way to derail any case they could make against him in the first place. Steele would spend the evening gathering more information on Sean Wallace, learning where all of his weaknesses were before deciding what approach would provide the best intimidation.

He decided that Tom Folsom might be of some assistance to him in this regard, so he would have a few chats with him from the hide-out down in Macon. He didn't want to have the conversations on the cell phones, but he didn't want him back up in Atlanta either. He had already decided to have Kimberly join him for the weekend, and he didn't want Folsom back in her life under any circumstances.

Since that left only Mark Morris as a possible immediate source for personal information on Wallace, DeMarcus thought he might as well call him now and see what he could contribute. He didn't expect much, but the call would also give him an opportunity to speak with Kimberly and let her know of his desire to have her as his guest over the weekend.

DeMarcus was surprised when his call to Wallace Enterprises was not answered by Karen Kirkland. She had been placed there specifically to screen all incoming calls.

"Wallace Enterprises. How may I direct your call?" said an unfamiliar voice.

"Who da fuck is dis?" I-Bar said, slipping into his gangsta persona.

"Excuse me?" said the person on the other end of the phone.

"I axed who da fuck is dis? Where'd Karen Kirkland be at 'stead of answerin da phones?" 

"Sir, this is a place of business. If you cannot speak in a professional manner I will be forced to disconnect your call."

"Don't dis the way I talk and don't dis me, bitch..."

"Click."

I-Bar immediately dialed back and let his fury be known as soon as the phone was answered, "WHO DA FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE HANGIN UP ON ME?"

"Click"

I-Bar had to reign in his anger before he broke something in his office. The thing he wanted to break was 250 miles away, and that distance is the only thing saving this bitch's life right now. He accepted that the only way he would find out who she was so he could eventually make her pay for her disrespect of him would be to switch tactics.

"Wallace Enterprises. How may I direct your call?"

"Good afternoon. To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking with?"

"This is Maureen McKenna, assistant to Mr. Wallace. How may I help you?"

"My name is DeMarcus Steele with Tri-Star Partners. May I speak to Karen Kirkland please?

"I'm sorry but Ms. Kirkland is not here."

"Fine, do you know when she is expected to return?" asked DeMarcus.

Moe considered how much she wanted to tell anyone from Tri-Star Partners, but she didn't think she could keep matters secret for too long. "I do not expect that she will be returning. She was arrested for trespassing and is currently in jail as far as I know."

DeMarcus was silent for a moment before he asked, "Do you know where Karen was trespassing when she was arrested?"

"She was sitting at a desk in the lobby of Wallace Enterprises, refusing entry to the owner of the company," Moe answered.

"How did that constitute 'trespassing'?" asked DeMarcus as he was thinking "That stupid bitch."

"When Mr. Wallace found out that she was not an employee of his company, he filed charges against her personally. Any other Tri-Star Partners employees on Wallace Enterprises properties are facing similar charges, so you may want to take the opportunity to get them relocated as soon as possible, Mr. Steele. Now, is there anything else I can do for you?"

DeMarcus was finding the idea of just tracking down Sean Wallace and "popping him" a solution that was growing in favor among his various options for dealing with this punk. He calmed enough to ask, "May I speak with Mark or Kimberly Morris please?"

Moe did an admirable job of hiding the joy in her voice as she answered, "I'm sorry, but Mr. and Mrs. Morris are no longer employed by Wallace Enterprises. The last I heard, they were on their way to the Federal Building downtown to be interviewed by the FBI."

"Is Sean Wallace there?" DeMarcus really didn't want to talk to him, but it would be beneficial to start keeping track of where Wallace was at all times.

Moe sensed that she should not divulge any information on Sean to this man on the phone so she just said, "Mr. Wallace is not available at this time."

"I didn't ask if he was available," said Steele, "I asked if he was there."

"And I told you that Mr. Wallace was not available. Is there anything further I can do to assist you Mr. Steele?"

"Who is currently in charge there? That's the person I would like to speak with."

"Please hold."

Moe went to Sean's office door and knocked. Amanda beckoned her to enter, but Moe simply opened the door and stuck her head inside. "Do you want to talk to one of the heads of Tri-Star Partners? DeMarcus Steele is on the phone trying to find someone he can intimidate into giving him information on what's been going on."

"Sure," said Amanda. "Please transfer him in here. While I am on the phone with him, would you please gather up the personnel in the office, at least the ones on this floor so that I can speak to all of them in a few minutes? Maybe everyone could just pull chairs into the open area out there?"

"I'll take care of it," said Moe. "The call will be to you in a moment."

Without announcing her intentions to DeMarcus Steele, Moe simply transferred his call to the phone in Sean's office. DeMarcus was momentarily startled to hear the tell-tale sounds of his call being transferred to another extension, but recovered in time to hear the person pick up on the other end.

"Good afternoon Mr. Steele. How might I help you?" asked Amanda.

"Who are you?" DeMarcus asked, even though he had a strong suspicion that he knew the answer.

"My name is Amanda Wallace, and I'm quite busy. So, if you would get to the purpose of your call as quickly as possible, I would appreciate it."

"You are the snooty bitch that has been butting into my business along with that punk Sean Wallace, right?"

"You have me at a disadvantage Mr. Steele. I do not know who you are or what business you are in, so it's difficult for me to address your concerns related to it. I do know that you are treading on thin ice with me however when you insult Sean. I suggest that you reconsider your presentation style and content before you end up regretting your words."

DeMarcus let out a loud and raucous laugh that Amanda thought was exactly how a shark's laugh might sound. "You obviously don't know who I am girly, or you would be the one reconsidering your words. I'll give you some slack because you're obviously not from around here, but don't push your luck. I will not tolerate you and some punk Boy Scout continuing to cost me money and interfering with my various business ventures - ventures which now include, and will continue to include Wallace Enterprises..."

Amanda cut him off, "And I will give you the same "slack" Mr. Steele, because you obviously don't know who you are speaking with either. Wallace Enterprises isn't just Sean Wallace any longer. It is now the combined global strength of his company as well as my own, Wallace Holdings, LTD. You may mistakenly consider Sean some weak, naive and innocent 'Boy Scout', as you referred to him, and I am confident that your impression will soon be changed, but don't ever make the mistake of considering me in the same light. I suggest that you pick up your playmates and go home. The adults are in the room now."

"I wish I had the time to toy with you and your pussy-whipped little boy longer, but I have some time-sensitive business transactions that you two have disrupted for too long already," countered DeMarcus.

"Bring your best, Mr. Steele, because what we have seen so far is not very impressive. Your 'security' team is in intensive care in case you're interested, and I haven't even had to get into the game yet. To that point, Mr. Steele, I'll warn you right now that the distance between intimidation and stupidity is exactly nine millimeters."

"Leave it to the Boy Scout to find himself a woman whose balls drag the ground when she walks," chuckled DeMarcus. Then he asked, "So who did you have take out my security guys? You hire yourselves some muscle?"

"You really don't know who you are dealing with, do you Mr. Steele? I guess I shouldn't complain because it makes things much easier for us when you underestimate your opposition. Please keep it up. Good Bye."

DeMarcus heard the call being disconnected on the other end and cursed himself for allowing her the pleasure of ending their conversation on her terms. The first thought that came to his mind was that he wondered how Amanda Wallace would look in a dog collar, naked at his feet. He would make her humiliation total and complete before he killed her. His second thought was that she was right. He definitely needed more information on Sean Wallace, and now this Amanda Wallace as well.

Leaving his office, he stopped to speak to Splint and Q-Tip who were sitting in the reception area, "Splint, get a hold of the lawyers and see what they can find out about Kimberly and Mark Morris being questioned by the Feds up in Nashville. Also see if our guys are really in some hospital up there, what their conditions are and if Karen Kirkland needs bail or anything. Q-Tip, get on a computer and see what you can find out for me about this Amanda Wallace person. Start with her being from Australia and owning a company called Wallace Holdings. I'm going to head down to Macon, so call me on my cell when either of you have anything for me." Without waiting for replies, I-Bar left the office and headed to his car.



Heavy Traffic Ch. 11



Amanda finished her latest e-mail correspondence with Jeremy Thorndike and Bryce Pierre. She then stood and walked out of Sean's office to see if Moe had assembled the personnel yet. 

She found the last few people just positioning chairs into the open area of the office and taking their seats. The chairs had been arranged in a manner where Amanda was the center of everyone's focus as she exited the office. Moe stood and leaned against her own cubicle as Amanda addressed the staff.

"Good afternoon. For any of you who may not have figured it out yet, my name is Amanda Wallace. Mrs. Sean Wallace. I know that I come as a surprise to most of you, and let me assure you, being here today like this is just as big of a surprise to me. I wanted to take a few minutes to introduce myself to you. Many of you may have also have questions, and I will do my best to answer them for you."

Amanda pulled a chair over from a vacant cubicle and took a seat herself. Seeing this, Moe pulled her chair out of the cubicle and also sat.

A young woman with significantly more makeup than face to hold it raised her hand and began the questioning, "Mrs. Wallace..."

"Please call me Amanda."

"Mrs. Wallace, several of us would like to know the answer to the question Mrs. Morris posed to you previously. Specifically, what did you do to wrap one of the richest and most eligible men in America around your little finger, and what qualifies you to assume any responsibility for running Wallace Enterprises?" While the question itself sounded antagonistic, the tone in which it was asked was friendly and denoted simple curiosity as the impetus for the inquiry.

There were several gasps from the audience, and Amanda saw the beginning of tears in the eyes of Monica Johnson as well as a few other female employees, but Amanda recognized the voice and addressed the query directly, "Ms. Aldaco, thank you for the question. I want to start by apologizing to you for the intolerance I demonstrated to you yesterday. Upon further reflection, I recognize now that you were exhibiting the loyalty to leadership that Sean and I both value in an employee. I cannot blame you if the people you were following were leading you astray. When we are done here, I would like to spend a few minutes alone with you to discuss this attribute of yours further."

Nina Aldaco was visibly surprised by both the apology and the sincerity with which it was delivered. She simply nodded to Amanda and let her continue.

"Back to your question, I can't speak to why Sean was attracted to me, but I can speak to what attracted me to him. Sean Wallace saved my life, in more ways than one. He actually rescued me from certain death, but he then went further and showed me the life I knew I was destined to live with him at my side. Sean Wallace is the bravest, gentlest, and most compassionate man I have ever known. I recognized his strength, his selflessness, his intelligence and immediately came to love and respect him. I have come to realize that a lot of people underestimate Sean and perceive his trust, tolerance and patience as weakness or innocent naivety. I can assure you that Sean is neither weak nor naive. If what happened in this office earlier didn't demonstrate that to you, then nothing will.

I understand that a lot of people may suspect that Sean's wealth factored into my attraction, but I can tell you with all honesty that I had no idea that Sean was one of the wealthiest men in America until dinner last night. That was fair however, because Sean had no idea that I was one of the wealthiest women in Australia until yesterday either."

Amanda paused to look into the eyes of her audience, one by one. "I do not have Sean wrapped around my little finger, but I do have him wrapped around my heart. My devotion to Sean and our trust in one another is what qualifies me more than anything else to stand by his side and him by mine. Speaking now to my business qualifications, while I was raised on a sheep and cattle farm in a remote region of Australia, this was only one of my family's business holdings. We hold extensive mining and mineral rights throughout the country, own and manage several renowned vineyards with wineries and we control more than thirty percent of the cattle and seventeen percent of the sheep raised in Australia. In addition to telecommunications, we also maintain import and export operations at every port on the continent and invest heavily in technology ventures throughout Australia and Southeast Asia. As with Sean, when my parents died, I assumed control of the family business, Wallace Holdings, Limited. I encourage anyone who is interested to do an internet search on Wallace Holdings to learn more about what we do. It is Sean's and my intention to merge our two families' business operations into a single global company that we will manage together. Sean and I both take the stewardship of the family businesses entrusted to us seriously and we will do our best to operate them in a manner that honors our parents and makes our employees proud. Does that answer your question Nina?"

"Yes," said Nina. "Thank you."

Moe raised her hand, "Amanda, can you speak to how you and Sean envision your stewardship of your combined companies being managed? Will you both be active or will you appoint others to handle the operations?"

"Excellent question Moe. I can't speak to specifics other than to repeat my previous comment that Sean and I take our responsibilities seriously and will ensure that the management of all our companies complies with the highest standards of integrity, morality, professionalism, and fairness towards all. I am not going to say that Sean and I will have a hand in every aspect of the businesses we control, because that wouldn't be fair to the employees who have earned a right to assume a share of the responsibility, and to be rewarded for doing so. I can tell you that we will always be available, visible, and vigilant where the needs of our companies and our loyal employees are concerned. In the case of my own organization, Wallace Holdings, I have had an excellent management team running the operations for several years. My business has grown and prospered without my day-to-day involvement, and I see no reason why the same can't be true going forward. Now, where Wallace Enterprises is concerned, most of you now realize that some unscrupulous former employees attempted to circumvent the ownership authority of Sean by signing an illegal and invalid management contract with Tri-Star Partners. The contract isn't worth the paper it is printed on, and none of you should concern yourselves with it. If any of you are currently employed by Tri-Star Partners rather than Wallace Enterprises, you may leave now or see me after we are done here to discuss a change in your allegiance."

Another employee raised his hand and when recognized by Amanda asked a question, "Amanda, your businesses are primarily in Australia, correct? Will the combined business operations open opportunities for employees here to visit or transfer there?"

"I can't envision how we could avoid that," said Amanda. "While a large portion of my business operations are agricultural and mining related, there are also operations that either match or compliment similar operations within Wallace Enterprises. There will need to be some consolidation where redundancies exist, but trade regulations, geography and cultural differences will require many operations to remain separate. Australia is a beautiful and unique country, and I would encourage everyone who wants to visit, whether for business or pleasure to do so."

There were only a few additional questions asked, most focused on concerns over job security and organizational structure of the combined companies. Amanda assuaged the concerns about job security for any "loyal" employees and deferred the questions on the structure of the organization until after her, Sean and the lawyers were able to discuss things in greater detail. As people started returning to their desks, Amanda addressed Nina Aldaco.

"Nina, would you please give me a few minutes of your time? Moe, would you also join us?" She stood at the door to Sean's office and waited for the two women to enter before closing the door. 

"How many of our female employees do you think we'll lose due to broken hearts or dreams?" Amanda asked her guests before they could take a seat.

"Sean's eligibility has been an influencing factor in the career choices for several of our employees," said Moe.

Nina added, "That's kinda why I asked the question I did. I know of at least three women who began new job searches as soon as they confirmed that the e-mail from Mr. Pierre was genuine. Few of them had ever spoken to Mr. Wallace before, but that didn't stop them from dreaming and scheming to attract him when he returned. I have to admit that I used to have dreams of Sean Wallace myself, but I have a boyfriend now to fill that place in my life. I am very happy for you and Mr. Wallace."

Addressing Moe, Amanda said, "If there are any that you feel are salvageable, please let me know and I'll try to work things out with them. No one knows better than me how attractive Sean is, so if we can maintain a professional working environment and they respect my position, I will not hold their dreams against them." 

Amanda took a seat in the middle of the couch and asked Nina and Moe to sit on either side of her.

Once they were seated, Amanda turned to face Nina. "Nina, do you accept my apology from earlier?"

"Of course, thank you. I have to say it was a surprise though," said Nina.

Amanda took Nina's hand and said, "No, thank you for accepting it. Was I right in my assessment of your loyalty being the motivation for your actions yesterday?"

Nina contemplated her answer. "I always just thought of it as doing my job, but you made me realize that loyalty to my boss is a major part of my job, even if it wasn't in the documented description. I think you're very generous to excuse my behavior due to my loyalties being misdirected."

Amanda just smiled and squeezed Nina's hand. "How old are you?" she asked.

"I'm nineteen," answered Nina.

"Are you attending college or taking any courses currently?"

"Not right now. I'm saving money and hoping to be able to start taking some night classes next semester."

"What do you want to study?" asked Amanda.

"My plan is to major in Accounting with a minor in general business," replied Nina.

Turning to Moe, Amanda said, "I don't think Sean would object to what I want to propose, but if you disagree, please tell me."

Moe nodded and waited for Amanda to continue. She did so, "We obviously have some key management positions open within Wallace Enterprises that will need to be filled. To those I want to add a new position called 'Chief Administrative Officer'. I envision this person having global responsibility for all human resources, training, and administrative departments, and I believe Sean would agree that you are the best person for this role. It will be a senior vice president position within the organization, reporting directly to Sean and me. Interested?"

"The title means nothing to me, Amanda. Just tell me what needs to be done for you and Sean and I will do my best to accomplish your wishes."

"Moe, it is that devotion that makes you perfect for the role, and no one has earned the right to the title and associated rewards more than you. The first thing I would like you to do is start looking for a new assistant for Sean. I'll discuss my expectations for that role with you a little later." Moe gave a nod and a knowing smile but said nothing.

Turning back to Nina she said, "Nina, if you can promise Sean and me the same degree of loyalty that you demonstrated with Mark Morris, I would be honored to have you be my own assistant. I would expect you to dress more conservatively, wear less make up, and to stand your ground with me if I get too overbearing. I can handle most of my own correspondences and scheduling requirements, so while I would pay you a full-time salary, I envision you only needing to dedicate four hours or less to me each day, but with significant interactions between here and Australia, those hours may sometimes be very late or very early. I would expect you to spend the remaining time on attending classes to achieve your degree. As long as your courses are related to a degree in accounting or business, their costs will be covered by me personally."

There were tears in Nina's eyes as she replied, "Mrs. Wallace, I don't deserve this, but I promise you I will earn it. Thank you so much for having faith in me. No one else ever has. I won't let you down."

"Please call me Amanda." Turning back to Moe she said, "Moe, I would appreciate it if you would take Nina under your wing for a while. I can't imagine any better example of the perfect personal assistant than you. Would you mind?"

Reaching across Amanda to take Nina's other hand, Moe said, "It would be my pleasure."

The three women embraced each other and were just separating when there was a knock at the office door. Amanda stood to open it but Nina took her hand. "Please allow me." Amanda smiled and let Nina answer the door.

Sean stood on the other side of the door and seemed surprised to see the tear-streaked face of a young woman he didn't recognize. He looked over her head and saw Amanda and Moe smiling back at him. Glancing down at the young woman he said, "Hello."

"Hello Mr. Wallace. I'm Nina Aldaco and I'm very pleased to finally get a chance to meet you." Nina opened the door wider, stood aside and beckoned Sean into the office. As he entered, Amanda walked up to meet him and they kissed.

"Are you ready to go shopping?" he asked her.

"If you can give me a minute to finish up a few things with Moe and Nina while I pack up my computer, I'll be ready to go. Why don't you have a seat on the couch and get comfortable for a minute?"

Sean simply nodded, turned to sit on the couch, and watched Amanda. He liked watching her.

"Nina, please close the door and take one of the seats in front of the desk. Moe, could you take the other seat?" Amanda walked behind the desk as the two women assumed their seats. She began turning off her laptop and packing things away as she delivered her instructions to them.

"I trust that you both appreciate the value that Sean and I place on having employees who won't betray us. Nina, I would like you to spend the rest of this afternoon assisting Moe with identifying anyone out there who works for Tri-Star Partners, is too enamored with Sean to be loyal to me or has otherwise demonstrated a lack of loyalty to Wallace Enterprises or Sean personally. Moe, you now have the authority to terminate the employment of any person working for Wallace Enterprises who you believe is not behaving in the best interest of the company. You also have the authority to have anyone not employed by Wallace Enterprises escorted from the building and charged with trespassing if necessary. Are you both okay with these directions? Sean, do you have anything you would like to add?"

Both women waited to see if Sean was going to speak before responding. He took the opportunity.

"I agree completely with Amanda and will only add that Bill Lester will hang around for the rest of the day. He will be available to assist you both should you need his influence to carry out Amanda's instructions. I have a locksmith on the way to install new locks on Tom Folsom's office. Please keep everyone out of there unless either myself or Amanda give our approval."

Moe turned to Nina and asked, "Want some hands-on training on making heads roll?"

Nina giggled and said, "I sure do." Turning to Amanda she asked, "Would you mind if I changed into some more casual clothes first? The make-up and clothes that Mr. Folsom made me wear really aren't my style, and I would like for people to start seeing me for who I am rather than what they have seen me as in the past."

Amanda had just finished packing her messenger bag. She smiled at Nina and said, "I would have been disappointed in anything less, Nina. You are making me proud already."

Nina was literally gushing when she stood and embraced Amanda once more. "Thank you so much."

Amanda handed Nina a slip of paper as she walked around the desk and approached Sean on the couch. "This is my cell phone number and e-mail address. Feel free to call me any time. Moe knows how to get a hold of Sean should it be necessary."

Nina and Moe put arms around each other's waist. Moe said, "We've got your backs here. Go shopping and enjoy your evening." Nina nodded in agreement.

"Thanks ladies," Sean said as he stood and led Amanda out of the office. They had no sooner cleared the doorway before they were met with cheers and applause from the all the employees assembled in the open area. Sean seemed startled, but Amanda just smiled at everyone, waved, and led Sean towards the lobby.

When they reached the opening to Monica Johnson's cubicle Amanda paused and pulled Sean closer to her side. With her eyes clear of her earlier tears, Monica was busy taking press clippings on Sean from the walls of her space and setting them into a pile on her desk surface. 

Sean and Amanda stood silently watching for a minute, but Amanda spoke before Monica removed the picture salvaged from Sean's office, "Monica, Sean and I wanted to thank you again for saving that picture."

Monica jumped when she was spoken to. Turning to see the man of her dreams and the woman she now recognized as his new wife, one hand flew to her chest at the same time her other hand covered her mouth to help suppress a small scream. Seeing the warm smile on Amanda's face calmed her, but the smile and nod from Sean is what really put her at ease.

"Good to see you again Monica. What happened to the frame?" asked Sean.

Amanda repeated the answer that Monica had supplied to her earlier, "It appears that Tom Folsom kept the frame and discarded the photo. Monica was kind enough to save the picture, but she couldn't get the frame."

Finally recovering her senses, Monica removed the picture from her wall and handed it towards Amanda without comment. Amanda smiled even more warmly at Monica and squeezed Sean's hand when she said, "Monica, would you please contact whoever you need to in the purchasing department and requisition a new frame for the picture. I'm sure that Moe McKenna or Nina Aldaco will assist you if necessary. I don't think either you or I want that picture to merely be tacked to your wall any longer. If you can't find a spot for it on your desk, I will understand, but even if you hang it back on the wall, I would prefer to see it presented in a better light. I hope you feel the same."

"You want me to keep it?" Monica asked in a voice so low it was difficult for it to be heard.

"Unless you don't want it," said Amanda. "I can't think of anyone more deserving of it than the sweet woman who saved it from destruction, can you Sean?"

"Personally," Sean said as he finally recognized Amanda's objectives with this employee, "I would be honored for you to keep it, Monica. May I see it for a minute?" He removed his hand from Amanda's in anticipation of the picture being presented to him. 

Monica slowly handed it to Sean, as if she was trying to avoid any contact with him during the transfer from her hand to his. Taking the picture into his right hand, Sean pointed to a cup of pens and pencils on Monica's desk. "May I borrow a pen please?"

Monica picked up the entire cup and presented it to Sean so he could select the pen he wanted. Once he extracted one, she returned the cup to her desk without taking her eyes off of him. Using the top of the outer wall of the cubicle, Sean wrote a message to Monica on the picture "Monica, You are my hero" and signed it. He then handed the picture to Amanda, who turned it over and wrote her own message on the back of it. When she was done, she returned it to Sean. After reading Amanda's message, Sean handed the picture back to Monica.




Heavy Traffic Ch. 11



Monica read both messages before holding the picture against her chest and smiling up at the couple.

Handing the pen back to Monica, Amanda asked, "What is your current role here, Monica?"

Glancing briefly at Sean before returning her focus back to Amanda, Monica responded, "I am a Customer Advocate with the World Wings division. In a nutshell, I serve as a sort of concierge for clients who reserve one of our planes, assisting them with transportation, lodging and other business or personal needs both at their point of origin and their final destination."

Sean was nodding at her answer as he chuckled, "We could have used your help earlier today, right Amanda?"

Amanda smiled at him and said, "I think you handled things just fine on your own, but it is reassuring to know that our customers have access to someone such as Monica should they encounter any difficulties. Do you enjoy your work, Monica?"

"Very much. It's rewarding when I know that I have enhanced the client's experience with World Wings to the point where they will recommend us to others and use our services again in the future."

"Are you open to other opportunities within Wallace Enterprises?" Amanda asked.

"Depending upon the opportunity, I would consider changing roles," Monica said. "Did you have something specific in mind?"

"There is one particular opening that I think you would be well suited for. The position as Sean's personal assistant is going to be opening up and I'd like for you consider applying for it." Turning to Sean, she said "Would you object to Monica as a personal assistant?"

"Based upon what I know so far, I would have no objections what so ever," Sean said.

Monica glanced directly at Amanda and asked, "You wouldn't object to me reporting directly to Sean as his personal assistant"?

Amanda put her arm around Sean's waist and replied, "Regardless of who Sean's personal assistant is, we will continue a Wallace family tradition where the person will be his assistant, but they will report directly to his wife."

Sean laughed, "You really have been talking to Moe, haven't you?"

Amanda bumped her head against Sean's shoulder lovingly and continued with Monica, "If you're available tomorrow morning I would like you to meet with me and Moe for a few minutes."

Smiling at them both, Monica nodded and said, "I'll make myself available at whatever time is convenient for you."

Sean took Amanda's hand once more and said, "Well, thanks again Monica. We need to run right now, but I'm sure we'll see you tomorrow."

As they made the short drive to the mall, Amanda filled Sean in on the question and answer session with their employees, her promotion of Moe and the selection of Nina as her assistant. Sean was proud of her and told her so. Amanda decided to wait until they were driving to his house before discussing her conversation with DeMarcus Steele because she felt it require more time for them to analyze it completely.

While they were shopping, Amanda noticed that Sean kept paying for her purchases with the same credit/debit card, which he kept in his front pants pocket with his driver's license. It finally dawned on her that she had never seen him pull out a wallet, so she asked him about it.

"Wallets tend to get filled with a bunch of useless cards and papers that make them too bulky," he explained. "I don't like sitting on a lump of a wallet, so I just carry the bare minimum and keep them in my front pocket so they don't get bent by me sitting on them."

Amanda slid her hand into his back pocket and pulled him against her hip. "I like having your back pockets empty. That way I always have a free spot for my hand." She squeezed him through his pants and continued, "Plus, I will generally have a purse or other bag with me, and there will always be room in it for anything you don't want in your pockets."

"You just might end up being kinda handy to have around," Sean teased her as he wished he could put his arm around her shoulder. He was carrying the dress she had selected in a garment bag and the shoes and other items with his other hand in a separate shopping bag. 

Sean was surprised by how much he enjoyed watching Amanda shop. He marveled at her interactions with store personnel, listening with total concentration to their suggestions before either accepting them or expertly swaying them to her own opinions and desires as if they had shared them all along. She was like a little girl as she tried clothes on, frequently bouncing excitedly out of a changing room to model things for Sean's approval - and he never found a reason not to approve. Amanda had sensible tastes, an eye for colors, and a body that flattered anything that she wore.

Amanda used her connection to him through his back pocket to steer them both into her next shopping destination. "This store is for you," she told him as she opened the door with her free hand and led him into Victoria's Secret.

Sean's cell phone rang as he waited for Amanda to select panties, bras, garters and stockings - displaying each for Sean's approval before deciding on them. He stepped over to a seating area outside the fitting rooms and answered the call from Michelle.

"Hi Sean, I wanted you to know that I am heading up to Nashville in a couple of days. The FBI wants me there when they question Kimberly and Mark Morris."

"When do you expect to arrive?" asked Sean.

"According to the FBI, the real interrogation won't begin until Monday when they have had time to gather some phone records and other evidence from their Organized Crime Division that they want in hand before the questions start in earnest. The only questioning so far has been centered on what the Morris' know about the whereabouts of Tom Folsom. I hope to arrive Sunday afternoon and I'll go directly to the Federal Building downtown, so maybe we can get together for drinks later that evening and I can fill you in on everything we learn."

"I'm sorry, but I have family commitments all weekend. I'll text you directions to my house. You can join Amanda and me for a late breakfast there on Monday morning. I would like to show you the place and introduce you to my grandmother."

Michelle's annoyance was apparent as she said, "I'll have to play Monday by ear. I may have to transport the Morris' back to Atlanta in the morning, depending on what they have to say during the questioning."

"I understand," said Sean. "Well if we can't hook up while you're here, I'm sure we'll be able to get together when Amanda and I return to Atlanta next week."

"You're not returning on Monday?" Michelle asked?

"Not unless my grandmother there needs us for something related to the girls. Amanda and I have some business meetings and other arrangements to make here on Monday, so we'll need to remain here until Monday evening at least."

"You and Amanda are now in business together?"

"Husbands and wives are typically in business together," Sean said.

"You two are continuing that charade, huh?"

"Only until we can make it official. Amanda and I will be getting married and merging our family businesses in the very near future."

There was silence on the phone for several seconds while Mickey considered this news. She had always been very competitive, but she also knew when to back off. Backing off from Sean Wallace disappointed her on multiple levels. She liked and respected him, but the thought of what a physical relationship with him would be like had been a major fantasy of hers since she had met him. Mickey approached sex with a man like an athletic competition and as a result, she had never attained a level of satisfaction that she knew she was capable of with the men she had chosen so far. None of them had the stamina that her desires required, and most had been excellent physical specimens with either military or law enforcement fitness regimes that kept them in shape. She had sensed from their first meeting that Sean would be the man to finally meet the challenge that she would present to him in bed. Now it was unlikely she would ever know. Damn!

Michelle finally said, "Well, I guess congratulations are in order. I need to run now. I'll keep you posted."

Before Sean could reply, Michelle had ended the call. Sean glanced over to where Amanda had been standing previously and saw that she was now waiting for him near the front door with her purchased items in a bag. She held it up for him to see and smiled the most wickedly tempting smile that Sean had ever seen.

Approaching her, Sean smiled his own wicked smile and they both walked out of the store and then to the parking lot with an electric air of anticipation radiating between them.

Sean placed the packages in the back of the car and asked Amanda, "Do you want to try driving here?"

"Not yet. I would rather wait until I know the route so that I can focus on which side of the road I am supposed to be on rather than which direction I need to go. I would also prefer to sightsee a little more if you don't mind. This is beautiful country."

Sean opened the passenger door for Amanda and kissed her before she slid into her seat. As was becoming their pattern, Amanda reached across and opened Sean's door for him before he could get around to it.

"Do you know who else may be at this dinner that your grandmother is planning?" Amanda asked Sean as they entered the freeway.

"It's difficult to say with my grandmother. She hasn't had a lot of time to plan it, so I can't imagine it being too big of an event or for there to be anyone other than a few close neighbors invited. Are you worried?"

"No, I just would prefer not to have to spend the entire evening as the center of attention," Amanda said. "We didn't get much sleep last night and I have plans for you tonight that include more than sleeping."

Sean grinned at her, "If some of those items you were showing me at Victoria's Secret foretell your plans, then I can promise you an early exit strategy for both of us to get away from the crowd. Although, I'm concerned now that I may have to rescind my marriage proposal."

Amanda gasped and felt her blood leaving her face until she saw the twinkle in Sean's eyes and understood that he was teasing her in some way.

Sean couldn't hide the grin on his face as he continued, "I'm not sure a husband is allowed to lust after his wife as much as I lust after you." 

"You liked what you saw?" Amanda asked with a glowing smile on her face.

"I liked the promise of what I saw," said Sean. "Tease me, please me Mrs. Wallace."

Amanda placed her hand along Sean's thigh and slid it up until she found his obvious firmness within his pants. "I promise you far more pleasing than teasing Mr. Wallace. I look forward to a lifetime of pleasing you. If there is some restriction to husbandly lust, I'm sure we can make an exception in your case, as long as I get the same exception as your wife where my lust for you is concerned. How long until we get to your house?"

"It will take us about thirty minutes or so."

Amanda used the time to describe for Sean her conversation with DeMarcus Steele as well as elaborating for him on her brief meeting with the personnel while he was dealing with the police. Sean's expression varied from subdued rage over the things that DeMarcus Steele had said, to radiant pride in the way that Amanda dealt with him and the employees.

"Did you get a sense for what his next move might be?" Sean asked her.

"Not really, but I'm glad that you had the foresight to arrange protection for Beth and the girls. I could envision Mr. Steele trying to use someone we cared about as a bargaining chip of some sort."

"I agree," said Sean. "Did he mention anything about the girls that would prove his involvement in their distribution?"

Amanda reflected on her conversation with DeMarcus Steele and said, "He said nothing specific related to the girls, but he did imply that we had disrupted some of his business transactions. Do you think this Tri-Star Partners organization is behind the planned distribution of the girls and that is how Tom Folsom got involved?"

"We don't know enough about Tri-Star beyond their management contract right now to be able to say for certain, but we definitely need to consider them as potentially being involved with you and the girls somehow. I'll get Bill Lester to start reviewing the details Brandt Consulting has already retrieved on Tri-Star Partners and we'll look at them from a broader basis than just their management consultancy business."

Turning off the highway onto a quiet two-lane road, Sean and Amanda hadn't traveled 100 yards before their path was blocked by two men in the road beckoning them to stop. Sean slowed and stopped before them and rolled down his side window. One of the men approached Sean's window as the other stood to the side with his hand inside the light windbreaker he was wearing.

"Good evening sir. Do you realize that you are on a private drive and not a through road?" Sean handed the man his driver's license and said, "I would hope so since it's my private drive. I'm Sean Wallace and this beautiful lady with me is Mrs. Amanda Wallace."

Amanda smiled at Sean's introduction and just waved at the man outside the car.

"Of course Mr. Wallace, we have been expecting you. It's a pleasure to meet you. I'll radio ahead and let the gate know you are on your way up." He handed Sean back his license and stepped away from the car. Sean continued up the road, leaving his window down and letting the evening air flow through the car. Amanda followed suit and rolled her window down as well.

"This road is your driveway?" she asked? The road was wide and smooth. lined by tall trees along grass covered shoulders. The branches had been trimmed so high and precise that they resembled columns as they drove past them.

"Technically no, the driveway is about a half mile ahead. This road goes past the driveway another two miles, providing paved access to the horse stables, and several other buildings farther into the property. There is also a private boat ramp for us to launch directly into the Cumberland River without having to cut across the lawn or pastures. Have you ever ridden a Jet Ski?"

"No but I have always wanted to," said Amanda. "Most bodies of water near my home had too many pests to make recreational use of them practical. When the Katherine River was running well we could safely kayak and occasionally swim in it, but that only happened a few times each year after a heavy rain. Other times, the crocs and snakes were too aggressive."

Sean nodded as he slowed the car. They had been driving past white fencing that separated the road from lush, green pastures with beautiful horses grazing and now were approaching a stone-pillared gate, behind which was a magnificent manicured lawn that flowed towards a large colonial-style mansion in the distance. The stark white structure appeared to almost float above the colorful landscape surrounding it. The gate was open, with two men standing on either side of the drive. Sean drove past them without stopping and proceeded towards the house to the semi-circular drive in front of the house.

"We'll unload our stuff and I'll put the car into the garage later," Sean announced. There was another car already in the drive, so Sean pulled in behind it and said, "I wonder who this car belongs to. It looks like a rental."

Before he could shut off the ignition, the two large oak doors at the front of the house opened and a tall, handsome man strode towards them. While this man was slightly larger than Sean, Amanda saw an obvious family resemblance between him and Sean as he approached their car and opened Amanda's door for her.

"You must be Amanda."

Recognizing the voice, Amanda jumped out of the car and threw her arms around him. "I am so pleased to finally meet you, Uncle Kirby. I didn't know that you would be here."

Chuckling as Amanda embraced him, Kirby caught Sean's eye and winked. "I couldn't wait for Sean to bring you to me," he told Amanda, "So I came to you."

"This is a nice surprise," agreed Sean as he came around the car to shake his uncle's hand. "Is Wendy with you?"

"She sure is," said a melodic voice from the doorway. A tall beautiful woman with shining raven hair tied back in a ponytail was just coming out on the porch to join them. She gave Sean a warm hug and kissed his cheek before turning to Amanda and extending both her hands to her. "Hi, I'm Wendy Wallace, Sean's aunt."

"I am so honored to meet both of you," Amanda told them as Sean moved beside her and they wrapped arms around each other's waists. The touch of something cold and wet against her leg made Amanda jerk and look down. Sean noticed this and also searched for the cause.

"Merlin!" he said as he knelt to hug the Sable colored Sheltie who had just introduced his nose to Amanda. Sean picked the dog up into his arms and presented him to Amanda who moved her face inward to accept the offered kisses from Merlin.

"What a handsome fellow you are!" she cooed to him as she ruffled the fur behind his ears. Turning to Kirby she asked, "Is he your dog?"

Sean answered, "No, he's mine. Uncle Kirby and Wendy have been watching him for me." Addressing his Uncle, he continued, "Thanks for bringing him along."

"Well come on in and meet Mom," said Kirby as he took Wendy's hand and led them all into the house.

Sean set Merlin down and him and Amanda once again put their arms around each other's waists. They followed Kirby and Wendy into a large foyer that was obviously designed to impress visitors. Opulence abounded and pretentiousness ruled the day in everything from the crystal chandelier that hung from the ceiling to the Chinese vases on antique tables, to the hardwood floor with the Wallace coat of arms inlaid into it. As Kirby led them into a large atrium sitting room, Amanda saw that expensive and luxurious furnishings were evident everywhere, but as in Beth's house, a large framed portrait of Sean in his Marine Corps dress blues hung in a place of prominence on the walls. Here it was joined by a similar portrait of his Uncle Kirby, also in his Marine Corps uniform.

She recognized immediately the aristocratic pomp and circumstance that Sean had mentioned spending half of his childhood in. The differences between this house and that of Beth Askew were diametrical and dramatic. Sean had told her that this house was more than 15,000 square feet, teasing her not to get lost in it.

At the far end of the room, a lovely older woman in her seventies with a patrician air stood to greet them. Sean took both of her hands in his and kissed his grandmother on the cheek. Amanda considered how much more reserved Sean was in his display of affection with his Grandmother Wallace compared to how he was with his Grandmother Askew, and instinctively knew that she should follow his lead.

"Grandmother, I would like to introduce Amanda Wallace," said Sean as he directed Amanda to his grandmother. Carol Wallace turned her gaze to Amanda and studied her as she stood before her. Amanda felt that she was being evaluated for purchase as a race horse under the scrutiny of Carol Wallace's examination.

Amanda smiled her warmest smile, "I am pleased to meet you, and very honored to be here in your home."

Carol Wallace glanced between her grandson and Amanda before responding, "Any friend of Sean's is always welcomed. I'm very glad that you were the catalyst that brought both my grandson and my son home for a brief visit." She reached down and picked up a small bell off a side table and shook it for a few seconds. A uniformed maid appeared instantly in the doorway.

"Jessica, would you please bring our guests some ice tea and lemonade?" Turning to address her guests once more, Carol continued, "We have a couple of hours before our other guests arrive for dinner, so if anyone wishes to freshen up, there will be time after refreshments are served. Everyone, please have a seat."




Heavy Traffic Ch. 11



Without comment, Sean took Amanda's arm and led her to sit beside him on a leather love seat next to where his grandmother had been sitting in her chair. Kirby and Wendy took seats on a matching sofa across from the others. Merlin quietly lay down at Amanda's feet. Sean noticed this and smiled at the obvious attraction that his dog had for her already.

"This is a lovely house," offered Amanda as an ice breaker.

"Thank you," said Carol. "It has been in the Wallace family for over a century and every generation has contributed to its grandeur in their own way." She paused to look directly at Sean before continuing, "And I'm sure that Sean will eventually find it in himself to also contribute. It is inevitable after all, since he now owns the entire estate."

Turning back to address Amanda, Carol asked, "I understand from Beth that you are an orphan. How very sad. Family can be such a strengthening influence on a person and far too many people take this fact for granted."

"Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal," said Amanda. "Family will always exist in a person's heart. Even death cannot chase away the bond, the traditions, the obligations, and the devotion that exists within a true family. I live to honor the memory of my parents and my brother, and while they may not be here with me on Earth, they are always here with me in spirit. I believe Sean feels the same way about his parents." She squeezed Sean's hand and he nodded. Kirby and Wendy just sat quietly, satisfied that someone else was getting the "family" lecture instead of them for a change.

Jessica the maid came into the room carrying a large silver tray with three pitchers and five crystal glasses on it. Setting it on the coffee table she announced, "We have lemonade, sweet tea, and unsweetened. Would you like me to serve you or do you prefer to help yourselves?"

Before anyone could answer, Amanda went to the table and began pouring Sean a glass of lemonade. She was prepared to step over Merlin and was surprised to see that he had disappeared without her noticing his movement. As she handed the lemonade to Sean, she asked, "Carol, would you like something?"

Carol Wallace replied, "It's Mrs. Wallace, and I would also like a glass of lemonade please."

Everyone in the room took note of Carol's reprimand of Amanda for her informal use of her name, but Amanda was not to be dissuaded, "One lemonade coming up." She poured the glass and when handing to Sean's grandmother said, "Here you go Carol." She then sat back down next to Sean as Wendy poured iced tea for herself and Kirby.

Once everyone was seated again, Wendy attempted to steer the conversation to a safer area, "Mrs. Wallace, who all are you expecting for dinner? Is there anything that I can do to assist you or Jessica?"

"Ben Evans and his wife Maureen will be joining us. I didn't want to inconvenience too many other people with last minute invitations," replied Carol. "Jessica has everything under control, I'm sure."

Rising from her chair with an agility and grace that belied her age, Carol looked down at Amanda and said, "Please come with me."

Without hesitation, Amanda handed her glass to Sean as she stood to follow his grandmother out of the room. Carol Wallace led them up the wide curving staircase and down an ornate hallway with several doors along it. Finally reaching her destination, Carol opened a door and held it for Amanda to enter.

***

Sean had a grin on his face as he watched Amanda accompany his Grandmother out of the room.

"I hope she holds up," said Wendy. Kissing Kirby on the cheek she added, "I almost surrendered to her when she pounced on me during our engagement." Holding her thumb and index finger close together, she showed them to Kirby. "I was this close to walking away from you rather than having to deal with her as a mother."

Kirby chuckled and said, "Why do you think I keep our visits here to the bare minimum?"

"Well, I have no doubt that Amanda will give as good as she receives from Grandmother," said Sean. "You two have no idea how formidable Amanda can be, and Grandmother is about to find this out."

"It's about time for Mom to meet her match," said Kirby. He then gazed at Sean to make certain he had his attention, "There's something we need to discuss."

"Okay," said Sean. "What's up?"

Kirby began, "The preliminary reports from Michelle Anderson and the FBI on the smuggling of the girls indicate that while there was some involvement of foreign nationals, the conspiracy and core operations were domestic in nature. Consequently, the investigation has been reclassified as criminal and no longer considered a national security event."

"As long as justice is served..." said Sean.

"My reason for mentioning the changes is not over a concern about whether or not justice will be served," said Kirby. "It relates to your involvement up to this point as well as going forward. When you informed me about the events at Glenn Parker's cabin, one of the first things I did was call the Pentagon to get your reserve status activated retroactive to yesterday at oh one hundred Zulu time. Under a national security event, your military reserve status would protect your legal position to act in response to the threats. Once this became a criminal matter, your military status no longer protects you, and in fact can work against you in many instances."

Sean understood his Uncle's concerns, "Do you think I need further legal protection for some reason?"

"Until this case is completely resolved, I'm not going to assume that you will not face other situations where you will be compelled to react in response to a threat against yourself, Amanda, or someone else. While you would have every right to defend yourself or someone else, your unique skills could raise questions related to the use of deadly force and whether it was justified, and so on. You are trained to put down a threat, and to do so quickly and without concern for eventual legal scrutiny of your actions. This is what concerns me. We have too many former Special Forces personnel in prisons due to them simply defending themselves in a bar fight or something and some over-zealous prosecutor claiming that their training made them lethal weapons turned loose onto society."

"I won't let someone hurt Amanda or anyone else I care about, regardless of the potential consequences for myself," said Sean.

"I wouldn't expect you to," said Kirby. "That is why I want to offer you a solution that would protect your ability to respond as you deemed appropriate to any threats which may come up in the future."

"Go on," said Sean.

"I want to hire you as a consultant in non-lethal, close-quarter combat training for the Department of Homeland Security," said Kirby as he handed Sean a Federal credentials wallet containing a DHS badge and ID card. "You would have Federal law enforcement authorization, including the right to apprehend and arrest. I wouldn't expect you do any actual work, especially since I would set you up to be paid one dollar per year for your consulting services, but your authorization would be quite valid and legally defensible if necessary. It would also result in your permanent release from the military reserves so you would never have to worry about getting reactivated again."

Sean accepted the credential wallet and asked, "Let me ask you something else; Could Amanda being an Australian citizen be an issue where Biomorph Research and the government are concerned?"

"Not at all," said Kirby. "In the first place, Australia and the US have virtual reciprocity where security clearances are concerned - just like Canada and the UK. In addition, your name isn't listed anywhere as an owner of Biomorph Research so it is unlikely that her name would even come up as being associated with it either."

"That sounds like a 'win-win-win' to me," said Sean. "Thanks Uncle Kirby."

***

The bedroom that Amanda entered was as luxuriously decorated as every other room she had seen in this house. A large king-sized four-poster bed dominated the room, with a separate sitting area containing two overstuffed chairs angled slightly towards each other. Carol Wallace went to one of the chairs and sat. "Please join me," she told Amanda.

Amanda had anticipated Carol Wallace pulling her aside for a private conversation, but didn't expect it to be this soon after arriving. The timing really didn't matter though because she had been preparing herself for this eventuality since Beth had provided her with warning and subsequent advice on how to handle it. She had barely settled into her chair when Carol spoke again, "I wanted to personally show you the room where you will be sleeping while here. I hope you find it satisfactory."

Amanda glanced around the room before answering. "I'm sure that Sean and I will be very comfortable here. Thank you." 

She felt something at her feet and found that Merlin had joined them without her noticing and was once again lying on the floor beside her shoes.

"Sean has his own room," said Carol. "I will not condone unmarried people sharing a bed under my roof, especially someone who Sean has just met. Sean has been the target of Gold-Diggers and opportunistic girls and women his whole life, and I intend to continue protecting him from harlots and whores courting him under false pretenses as long as I am alive to do so. I hope you understand."

Amanda spoke in a calm quiet voice that Carol Wallace had to struggle to hear, "What other kind of pretenses are there Carol but false ones?" 

Not expecting an answer, Amanda continued, "What I understand is that Beth shared with you how Sean and I met, her witnessing of our love and devotion to each other, and our commitment to our future together. I also understand that in the time since your conversation with Beth that you have also spoken to Bryce Pierre, and I would assume Sean's Uncle Kirby to get their perceptions of me. The limited time available to you still has allowed your hired investigators to discover all the information on me that is readily available in the public domain. Understanding both your desire to learn more about me as well as what you would have found out, this does not bother me."

Carol Wallace kept her gaze on Amanda as she spoke and merely nodded occasionally at her observations.

"What does bother me," Amanda continued, "is that armed with this information, and knowing that I am not only financially independent, responsible for my own family's business and willingly shared my finances in support of Wallace Enterprises when Sean was tied up and unable to deal with the situation on his own, you still feel a need to test me with your animosity and holier than thou attitude. In less than 48 hours, I have demonstrated my love and devotion to Sean, as he did for me today with the establishment of the foundation to care for the young girls that I am responsible for, followed by his proposal of marriage, which I happily accepted. Sean and I shared a bed last night, and we intend to share our bed every night for the rest of our lives. So fine Carol, I'll play your silly game. When Judge Evans arrives here, he will have in his possession a marriage license for Sean and me that I arranged for in preparation for your little show. We will take the license into a private room downstairs, and in the presence of only Kirby and Wendy, be legally married by Judge Evans. You can explain to Beth why she was not able to attend the wedding of her only grandson. You can deal with the disappointment that Sean will have over us being denied the wedding we had planned and dreamed about, and you will live with my resentment for you having disappointed Sean. This resentment will be deep, strong, and all encompassing. While I would never turn Sean against you, I will make certain that you never see our children - the only great-grandchildren you will ever have - or allow you to play any role in their lives. If you think that Sean will choose you over his own wife and children, then you are as foolish as you are cruel."

Having her say, Amanda stood and started for the door. Merlin once again had disappeared. "Amanda, please sit down." Carol's voice was soft and quiet, but Amanda heard the pleading in it. She returned to her chair and waited for Carol to continue. Beth had really nailed this one, Amanda thought.

***

DeMarcus was on the rutted dirt road approaching the safe house where Folsom was hiding out when his cell phone rang. The caller ID showing a number he recognized, he answered with "Watch what you say and how you say it."

Splint considered his words accordingly and started his report, "Jules, Link, Dwight and Cody are all in the jail ward of the Davidson County Hospital. Link be in a coma, and not expected to survive. The others got some internal injuries an are scheduled for surgeries dis evenin."

"Whatda hell happened to them?" demanded I-Bar.

"Couldn't get no details yet, but da lawyer will be trying to talk wif dem as soon as da poleec let em."

"What bout da Morris'?" asked I-Bar.

"Lawyer sez dat day beein held as 'Material Witnesses' so he can't get in to see dem til the Feds say so. He be fightin dat, and spects to either get dem out soon or be allowed to see dem."

"Karen Kirkland?"

"She ben released afta she giben a tikit for tresspassin. She at home if you want to talk wif her, but she doen seem to know noffin udder dan Sean Wallace and his lady showed up and had her arrested when she wouldn't do what he wanted."

"Whad Q-Tip fine out bout Amanda Wallace?"

"Hang on an I'll put em on wif you." Splint handed his phone to Q-Tip who started right in, "Hey I-Bar, der was sum stuff on Amanda Wallace, and ders more dan we could git through real quick. Da main info you should know is dat she be one rich bitch."

"Whacha mean 'rich'?"

"She hab ober tree hunner millon dollas," said Q-Tip.

"Where'd da money come from?" asked I-Bar.

"Look like famley bidness, but I still be checking tings out."

"Sheet," said I-Bar. "Forgit bout her an git me information on Sean Wallace. I wanna know bout his houses an udder proportees. Fine out where we can hirt dat pussy an make him respect us as he should. I'll see wha Folsom knows in a bit an we can compare. I'll call ya back."

***

The sound of voices approaching from upstairs drew their attention. As Amanda and Carol drew closer, their conversation became clearer, but the tone of their voices is what Sean, Kirby and Wendy focused upon.

"Sean would love seeing it," Carol was saying with a lilt in her voice that made her sound like a teenage girl.

"I know he would," agreed Amanda. "I'm glad you reminded me of it. I haven't been to the Taranga Zoo since I was a little girl, but I remember how much I loved going there and sharing it with Sean would make it even more memorable for me."

As they rounded the staircase and came into view, Sean and the others saw Amanda and Carol Wallace holding hands and carrying on like life-long friends with Merlin trailing behind on Amanda's heels. Kirby and Wendy just stared in amazement at the transformation that had occurred in the relationship between these two women, but Sean wasn't surprised at all.

Rather than returning to their seats, the two women stopped at the base of the stairs. Carol was literally glowing and appeared younger and more enthusiastic about life than Sean could remember seeing her in years.

"Sean," said his grandmother, "Why don't you get yours and Amanda's things and take them up to your room. I moved you into your father's former suite, by the way. I'm going to finish showing Amanda around the house while you do that. I'll bring her up to you when we are done." Turning to her son and his wife she added, "Kirby, why don't you help Sean and Wendy can join Amanda and I. I'm sure Wendy would like to get to know Amanda better and vise-versa."

Wendy didn't give Kirby a chance to answer. She simply kissed him on the cheek and rose to join Carol and Amanda. Carol took Wendy's hand in her free hand and the three women walked off together giggling like school girls, with Merlin in Amanda's wake.

Kirby sat with his jaw agape until Sean laughed at him and said, "I told you that Amanda would impress you. I have been totally bowled over by her, and have loved every minute of it."

"What's not to love," agreed Kirby. "And you say she can shoot too?"

"From what I saw, she could shoot the stink off a skunk at a thousand feet."

Both men laughed and rose to start unloading Sean's car. Together, they were able to unload and carry everything up to Sean's room in a single trip. Kirby excused himself to go check his messages before he showered and dressed for dinner. Sean unpacked his duffle bag, hung Amanda's dress in the empty walk-in closet, and then went to the other walk-in closet to consider the suit that he would wear for dinner.

After plugging his cell phone in to recharge the battery, Sean opened the French doors that led out onto the private balcony from the room. Stepping out onto the balcony, he took in the view that he had loved since his childhood. Some of his fondest memories were the few special occasions when both of his parents had been in this house and he would join them for breakfast on this balcony overlooking the horse pastures and the Cumberland River that formed the border of their property in the distance. Sean sat in one of the cushioned wicker chairs on the deck and put his feet up on the railing. The tranquility of the scenery, coupled with his contentment from spending the day with Amanda soon found him dozing off to lustful images of what he wanted to share with her.



Heavy Traffic Ch. 12



Amanda let Carol lead her and Wendy through the house, pointing out antiques and other items of obvious pride or sentimental stature among all the furnishings and decorations. Graciously acknowledging the presentations while limiting her own questions and comments seemed to Amanda to be the best way to expedite the tour and allow her to get back to Sean. 

When Carol led them into the basement of the house, Amanda was prepared to excuse herself in order to bring the tour to an end. However, when Carol approached a door in the basement stating that this was Sean's workout room, Amanda willingly followed her through the door.

Once the overhead can lights had illuminated the room, Amanda slowly took in the details as she turned to view the entire setup. The room was at least forty feet square, with the floor covered wall-to-wall in a cushioned rubber material that felt at least two inches thick. There were no weights or other exercise equipment that Amanda would typically associate with a workout room. In fact, other than the bars, hoops and ropes attached to anchors in the ceiling, the only other items in the room were what appeared to be various well used punching bags covered in multiple layers of canvas and what Amanda assumed was leather. Then she noticed the large furry form lying on the floor, as if tossed aside. It was along the floor-to-ceiling mirrored wall next to the door. After closer inspection, she recognized it as a twin to the huge stuffed Teddy Bear that she had seen in Sean's cabin, however this one held no place of honor and as it appeared rudely discarded on the floor.

Amanda had just finished her second panoramic examination of the room when the ladies were joined by Kirby. "Interesting room," she said to no one in particular. "I didn't see a room like this at Beth's house or at his cabin. It seems somewhat sterile, except for the large stuffed bear."

Kirby offered, "The room is even more interesting if you ever get the chance to see Sean use it. He typically does his workouts outside. Mom had this room designed to keep Sean inside where she could watch him workout when he is here." Looking over at the bear, Kirby added, "I'm sure Sean keeps that around only because I gave it to him."

"I saw one just like it in his cabin," Amanda said. "It was sort of on display there, but this one is obviously not. Can someone share with me the significance of these bears?"

Carol didn't give Kirby an opportunity to respond before beginning to tell the story with unrestrained pride. "Kirby gave them to Sean when he was sixteen."

"Isn't the age of sixteen a bit old to give a boy a Teddy Bear?" teased Amanda.

"Not when the Teddy Bears are intended to symbolize the real thing," countered Carol. "His parents tried to have the real thing stuffed for Sean, but due to the beast having been infected with rabies, the body was cremated."

"Why would they want to have a real bear stuffed for Sean?"

"Because he killed it with his bare hands," said Kirby. "They were proud of him. We were all proud of him."

Amanda glanced at Carol, but when she remained silent, her attention returned to Kirby. "Please go on," she urged.

"Sean and another boy were hiking in the Cohutta Wilderness area about 75 miles north of his home down in Georgia. They came across a black bear that had a family trapped in their RV. The bear was acting unnaturally aggressive, tearing at the side of the vehicle trying to get inside. It had already bitten through two of the tires and broken some side windows that fortunately were too small to allow it to gain access. I saw the pictures afterwards and couldn't believe the damage this animal had inflicted on the vehicle."

"I'm not very familiar with any bears other than Koala Bears," admitted Amanda. "Are these black bears big?"

"A male black bear in that area averages between 225 and 250 pounds, but this particular one had lost weight and is estimated to have weighed a little over 200 pounds," contributed Wendy who had heard the story several times and knew it almost as well as Kirby.

Kirby continued, "Sean told his friend to run to the campground for help and then started trying to coax the bear away from the RV. When it saw Sean, it forgot about the people inside the vehicle and charged him instead."

Amanda gasped and looked to Carol for confirmation. She merely nodded and let her son continue. "Sean stood his ground and dodged every attempt by the bear to strike him with its paws or grab him in its jaws. He was too fast for the bear to reach him, which only seemed to make the bear angrier. Sean had been visiting the wilderness since he could walk, and knew enough about the behavior of the black bears to recognize that something was wrong with this one. When the bear did not seem to be losing interest, Sean knew that he would have to find some way of putting the bear down. He suspected that the bear had rabies, so it was critical that he avoid the bear's mouth so that the saliva would not get on him."

Amanda said, "What would make him think that he would be able to beat up a 200 pound bear, especially one out of its mind with rabies?"

Kirby didn't have a chance to answer before Carol responded with obvious pride, "Sean had been competing in weight classes with opponents over 200 pounds for years and was undefeated."

"Competing?" Amanda asked.

"Martial Arts tournaments," Kirby told her.

"Like karate?"

"Hsing-I," said Kirby. "That's an obscure Chinese form of internal martial arts. It's one of the Wudang styles characterized by the more powerful delivery of offensive and defensive blows than other forms of martial arts. It also involves the use of staffs and spears used in the same movements as the hands, arms and feet."

"So Sean is good at this... 'Hsing-I'?" asked Amanda.

"Sean is the best in the world!" boasted Wendy. "No one has ever beaten him."

"Not even a bear apparently," said Amanda.

Kirby grinned and continued to tell the story, "Sean's kicks to the body alone would have eventually caused the bear's death, but once he was able to land a kick to the neck, the bear was put out of its misery for good. The autopsy showed so much internal damage to the bear's organs that no one would believe that Sean hadn't used a club or something to inflict the injuries. The family in the RV witnessed Sean beating up the bear and even captured a lot of it in photos. Sean's father had to buy all the prints and negatives to keep them out of the papers but there were still a few local stories printed before we could get them squelched."

"Why were you so concerned about it being kept quiet?" asked Amanda.

"Sean felt bad about killing the bear, although he knew he had no choice. He also didn't want the notoriety the incident would bring to him because he felt it would impact his ability to enter future tournaments and find challengers willing to fight him." 

"When Beth told me that Sean was one of the most physically powerful men in the country, I had no idea what she was referring to," said Amanda. She then thought back to how Sean had so easily dispatched the four armed men in the office just a little while earlier. It had happened so fast that she didn't realize just how amazing his actions had been, but upon reflection - and upon hearing the story about the bear - she could now begin to fathom the skills and power that Sean possessed.

"Does Sean still compete?" Amanda asked.

"No," said Kirby. "When he joined the Corps he changed styles to meet the requirements of their program. While he holds the highest ranking in the style used by the Corps, it doesn't allow for his Hsing-I skills to be practiced to the degree necessary for competition."

Carol interrupted, "I think we should start back upstairs. We all need to start getting ready for dinner before too long."

Wendy took Kirby's hand and said, "Follow us Amanda. We'll show you to yours and Sean's room."

Surprising everyone in the room, Carol hugged Wendy and said, "Thank you Wendy. I need to spend a few minutes in the kitchen with Jessica." Carol then turned and hugged Amanda as well before simply saying, "Thank you." Carol strode out of the room with an obvious bounce in her step. The others followed in her wake, closing the door to Sean's workout room behind them.

***

Tom Folsom had been busy on a laptop computer when one of the men assigned to watch him said that I-Bar was coming in and wanted Folsom on the back deck of the safe house. Folsom quickly shut down the computer and was waiting on the deck when DeMarcus came around the side of the house and entered the backyard through a locked gate. DeMarcus climbed the steps to the deck and motioned for Folsom to join him at the picnic table there. It was an oblong, glass-top table with the brownish canvas umbrella fully extended to block out the afternoon sun.

After both were seated, I-Bar said, "We're running out of time."

Folsom sensed that it was him that was running out of time, but he didn't want to sound too self-serving or panicked at this point. "I've been researching Sean Wallace as you requested and identified the properties that he owns here in Georgia and in Tennessee..."

"We'll get to that," interrupted I-Bar. "I need to know more about the dude himself. What's his weakness? How can I get him to bend over and take what I want to give him right up his ass?"

Folsom contemplated I-Bar's questions and then said, "Other than this Amanda Wallace who just showed up, he doesn't have any family besides his grandmothers and his uncle. I'm not sure how going after any of his friends or employees would affect him."

"Well," said I-Bar, "Amanda Wallace is with him in Tennessee right now, which makes both of them harder for us to reach without getting help from some other people who we may not want to be involved in business with. Let's focus on what we can get to in Georgia first."

"Okay," said Folsom. "The cabin down in Seminole County is really remote, but that makes it an ideal target if someone is there. His house in Johns Creek is in a subdivision, and his grandmother is always there. Maybe we want to have someone check it out?"

"No reason we can't do both," said I-Bar. "Get me the address for the house in Johns Creek and directions to the cabin in Seminole County. I'll make sure both are visited before nightfall."

Before Folsom could answer, DeMarcus' cell phone rang. "Yeah?" he answered. Folsom saw I-Bar's expression turn darker and more serious as he listened to the caller.

"Don't fuckin lose em," he said. "I wanna know ebery moob dat bus make, and git Minor Ellis ta call me." I-Bar disconnected and turned back to Folsom. "The Feds just loaded all the girls onto a MARTA bus at the hotel. It looks like they're checking out because they all had bags and shit with them. Lonnie and Allen are going to follow the bus to see where they take them. If it's less secure than the hotel, we may have a chance to get them back. I'll need to start rounding up some more homies for tonight and tomorrow."

***

Kirby and Wendy led Amanda up to the third floor. The stairs ended at a balcony railing which provided a view of the entry foyer below. Pointing to indicate the double set at the end of the short hallway, Wendy said, "That's yours and Sean's room." She gave Amanda a hug. "We'll see you both downstairs around seven thirty."

Amanda returned the hug and then pointed to a door at the opposite end of the hall. "What's that other door?"

"That's Sean's, and I guess yours now too, home office," said Kirby. 

"Thank you both. We'll see you at dinner." Amanda said as she turned and headed for the doorway to the bedroom.

Entering the suite, Amanda saw that its footprint easily took up a quarter of the top floor of the house. Not seeing Sean, she began a solitary exploration of the suite while she searched for him. The living area that she had entered into was furnished in a style much more casual than the rest of the house, and actually reminded Amanda of the furnishings that her parents had in her home while she was growing up. Everything looked functional, comfortable, and intended for years of use by the occupants rather than the museum pieces that seemed to occupy the rest of the house.

Rounding the corner of the living area, Amanda came upon a small but well equipped kitchen area that held a two-burner stove, side-by-side refrigerator, dishwasher, microwave oven, and dual basin sink. The granite counter tops held a coffee maker, toaster, and a rack of assorted knives and utensils. The glass doors on the cabinets allowed her to see a complete set of dishes that appeared designed to serve only four people. The island in the middle of the kitchen served as a dining area with four stools situated underneath its edges.

Continuing past the kitchen area, Amanda passed the large fireplace on her way to check out the doorway in front of her. Opening the door she saw a medium sized bedroom that had a masculine décor which convinced her that this must have been Sean's room as a boy. This realization helped her understand that this floor must have been designed solely for him and his parents for the times when they were all together in this house versus the one that his mother had lived in. She could see several similarities to the bed linens, curtains, and other room features to what she had seen at the house in Johns Creek. The thought of the similarities to this room and Sean's other house made her cut her investigation of this room short so that she could satisfy her curiosity over something else.

Leaving Sean's room and heading directly across the living area to the double doors on the other side of the room, she opened them and entered what she knew had to have been Sean's father's room. Ignoring everything else in the room for the moment, Amanda sought out the pictures on the walls that Sean had told her were the sunsets to his mother's sunrises. Tears pricked the back of her eyes when she saw them, and her heart filled with joy once again.

Although she couldn't be certain, her recollection of them convinced her that each of the sunrise pictures in Sean's mother's room was taken from the same locale as the corresponding sunset photo mounted on the walls of his father's room. The pictures were each beautiful, and the photographic skills of Sean's mother were quite evident. However, it was the way that his parents had used these complimentary images to express their devotion to each other for so many years that tugged so hard at Amanda's heart. Witnessing her parents' romance through the years had influenced Amanda's perception of how a man and a woman could sustain a life-long marriage as true partners and lovers. Knowing that Sean had similar role models gave her so much more confidence that they shared one more aspect of their lives that made them as perfect for each other as she already knew that they were.

Finally tearing her eyes away from the photos, Amanda continued her tour of the master suite. Approaching the hallway leading to what she expected to be the bathroom, she saw that her bags had been set on the cedar chest at the foot of the king sized bed. On either side of the hallway there was a large walk-in closet, and she saw her dress hanging in the one on the left. In the one on the right, there were at least a dozen suits, a couple of tuxedos, and several sports coats and pairs of slacks on hangers. The floor to ceiling shelves held stacks of folded shirts, sweaters, and accessory items. There were several shelves on the other side of the closet that held rows upon rows of men's shoes of various styles. Pulling one of the suits from the closet, Amanda sniffed it to see if she could smell the scent of Sean on it, but she quickly determined that the items present hadn't been worn for so long that they had all probably been cleaned or laundered since Sean had last touched them. She now wondered what wardrobe items Sean had in his Johns Creek house since the tour he had given her hadn't included the closets.

Turning once more towards the bathroom, Amanda noticed that the door to the room was a full-length mirror. In its reflection she saw that the wall behind her held two French doors which were sitting open leading out onto a balcony. Amanda decided to check out the balcony before the bathroom and headed towards the open doors. She found Sean asleep on the balcony as soon as she stepped out through the doors and she couldn't suppress the smile that came to her face. He looked so beautifully content and peaceful that she didn't want to wake him, so she fought the intense desire that she felt to crawl into his lap and smother him with kisses.

Stepping back into the room, she looked for a clock and spotted one on a night stand next to the bed. She figured that she could let Sean sleep for at least another half hour before he would need to begin preparing for dinner, so she decided to use the time getting herself ready. 

Amanda had just reached into her first bag to start removing items when she was once again startled by the touch of Merlin's nose against her bare leg. She was puzzled by where the dog had come from because she knew that she had closed the door from the hallway when she had entered the suite, and she hadn't seen him anywhere during her earlier tour of the rooms, but she did remember seeing dishes for him on the floor in the kitchen so she assumed he had some way of getting in and out.

Sitting on the cedar chest, Amanda coaxed Merlin to jump up beside her. He quickly joined her and began licking her hands and forearms as she scratched the fur on the side of his head. Amanda loved the feel of his fur and welcomed Merlin pushing his body against hers as he sought even more affection and attention. She remembered that her mother had once told her, "Heaven has been described as the place that once you get there all the dogs you ever loved run up to greet you."

Their bonding continued for several minutes before Amanda said, "Let's see what we can do for your food and water." Rising and leading Merlin into the kitchen area, Amanda found a bag of dog food under the counter, placed a small amount into one of his dishes, and filled the other dish with fresh water from the sink. Merlin sat before the dishes watching her, but made no move to eat or drink when she was done. Seeing the dog sitting patiently before his dishes, Amanda realized how well trained he was to wait for permission before he ate or drank. She hoped that her words of approval would suffice because she didn't know what commands Merlin might be familiar with.

"Okay boy," she said with a nod of her head. Merlin immediately stood and began eating his food, occasionally glancing over at Amanda as if waiting for further orders or to see what she was doing. Thinking that she might be a distraction to him, Amanda took a seat on one of the bar stools and quietly waited for Merlin to finish his food. 

Not being able to sit simply watching Merlin for too long, Amanda began taking an inventory of the kitchen cabinets and the refrigerator. She was surprised to see how well stocked the kitchen was with basic essentials such as milk, eggs, coffee, bread and a variety of cold cuts just to name a sampling. Carol must have arranged for the groceries as soon as she knew that Sean was returning home.

Turning to check on Merlin, Amanda noticed that he had apparently finished eating and had disappeared again. She smiled as she thought how appropriate his name was to the dog's ability to perform his "magical" vanishing act only to then silently reappear unexpectedly. "Maybe I'll talk to Sean about getting him a bell to wear on his collar," she thought with a grin. Returning to the bedroom, Amanda continued to sort through her bags selecting items she would need for her evening and preparing for a shower.




Heavy Traffic Ch. 12



Slipping out of her shoes, she placed them on the floor of the closet across from the one that held Sean's clothes. Amanda could barely contain the smile on her face as she placed each article of clothing in to its proper place in the closet, realizing that she was sharing this room with Sean. Considering the love that she had always seen expressed between her parents, and then combining this with the obvious love that Sean's parents also maintained between them, she knew without a doubt that what she and Sean would share in their own lives would honor the romantic legacies of all their parents. She would see to it.

Amanda had just walked into the bathroom with a bag containing the toiletries she had purchased when she took in the room and felt her heart skip a beat. The bathroom was unlike any she had ever encountered. There were obvious design attributes which clearly identified this as a bathroom made for a couple, with intimacy and sharing obvious in the functional implementation of all fixtures and features.

The sink and counter vanity stretched along one long wall. There were dual sinks as well as separate controls at either end which Amanda confirmed adjusted the lights above the mirrors that served each of the sinks. There was a bay window in the wall between the sinks with a southerly view of the property. The toilet closet was in an area past the vanity, and against the far wall sat a sunken Jacuzzi that was as large as a hot tub and looked like it would easily hold six adults. The center of the room was occupied by a shower stall that Amanda guessed would measure six feet by ten feet. The shower was enclosed by glass panels between floor-to-ceiling marble pillars that varied between one and three feet in width. On opposing pillars inside the shower were an assortment of knobs and water nozzles at various levels that would make it possible for anyone in the shower to experience water sprays to their heart's content.

Several of the pillars had chrome hand holds mounted to them, and these combined with the padded benches strategically placed within the shower made Amanda realize that Sean's parents must have shared more than cleanliness while they were in this shower, and she knew that she and Sean would treasure this room and its features as much as his parent had. In fact, she thought they should start treasuring it right now.

Setting the bag of toiletries on the counter, Amanda finished undressing, and then wrapped a large bath sheet around herself before heading to the balcony to awaken Sean. She walked out to the balcony wrapped only in her towel and tapped Sean on his shoulder.

Sean awoke quickly, but he was obviously confused momentarily by his surroundings. His awareness increased dramatically as Amanda leaned down and kissed him on his lips. "I need you to wash my back."

"Do we have time?" The look in Amanda's eyes and the smile on her face made it abundantly clear that her desires went beyond bubbles on her back.

"We're the guests of honor," she said as she pulled Sean to his feet and led him into the bedroom. "I've already fed Merlin and I think the rest will wait for us."

Sean didn't put up any objections as Amanda removed one article of his clothing after another while leading him to the bathroom. 

"You have a wonderful body," she said as her hands caressed his chest.

Sean returned her caresses as he replied, "It's just the right size for my clothes."

By the time they reached the shower, she had dropped her towel and they both embraced outside the enclosure as Sean reached in to start turning the water on to opposing shower heads. 

Amanda asked, "Which one controls the overhead rainfall shower?" Her upward glance to the large shower head in the center of the enclosure made her objective clear to Sean. "This one," he said as he stepped into the shower and pulled her in beside him. He showed her the correct handle and she quickly turned it to the desired temperature, sending a soft flow of warm water cascading directly over the padded bench in the center of the shower.

Amanda sat on the edge of the bench with the water falling over her back and pulled Sean between her legs. The water from the two side mounted shower heads was hitting Sean about shoulder high on either side of his body. Sean reached over to one of the pillars and pressed a few buttons on a control panel that Amanda had not noticed before. Instantly, the lights in the bathroom dimmed and the streams of water from each of the shower heads turned to a very fine mist which was illuminated by an LED light source embedded within each of them. 

Sean turned to Amanda and lifted her in his arms as if she weighed nothing. As soft instrumental music began to play and the warm mist of water surrounded them, their bodies came together like cymbals. With her head and shoulders now directly below the lightly dancing water, and Sean effortlessly waltzing their joined bodies around the enclosure, she found enough breath between her gasps to whisper, "Just don't let me drown before we're finished." Neither of them were concerned about the time.

When Sean stepped out of the shower several minutes later, Amanda turned in the shower to watch him start drying before exiting herself. As soon as he handed her the bath sheet that she had worn earlier, she said, "Thanks for washing my back."

"It's a price I will happily pay for loving a lascivious Aussie girl," Sean said as he wrapped his towel around his waist before picking her up in his arms and carrying her giggling wet body back into the bedroom.

After they had both finished drying the other off, Amanda let Sean decide which of her new lingerie he wanted her to wear tonight. "I'll pick only if you allow me the pleasure of putting them on you," he said. Amanda answered him with a simple smile and a nod.

As he stood behind her smoothing out a twist in her bra strap, Sean leaned down and kissed her shoulder. "I lay claim to being your lingerie dresser from now on."

"The job is yours for as long as you want it, Sean. Now it's my turn."

She led him back into the bathroom and had him sit at the stool in front of the vanity facing her. Reaching over to his side of the counter, she came back with a comb and proceeded to fix his hair into place. Opening a bottle of after shave balm, she sniffed it, set it back on the counter and then selected a different bottle of men's after shave. After smelling it and finding it satisfactory, she took one of Sean's hands and splashed a few drops of the liquid into it. She set the bottle back down, took both of Sean's hands into hers and then rubbed the after shave between them before placing his hands on his cheeks and using them to apply the scent where she wanted it. When she was done being a puppet master, she bent down and kissed him on the lips.

Sean put his hands on her waist and held her in place as he gazed up into her eyes. "I want to apologize now for all the poetry that I will never write for you, for all the songs that I will never compose for you, and for all the other romantic endeavors that I'm certain to neglect. I know that I am going to be far too busy just loving you to devote time to demonstrating it in those ways, but I promise that you will never doubt my love for a minute."

Amanda was glowing with visible love herself as she replied, "I have never been more certain of anything in my life as I am of your love for me, Sean. Now, I'll let you apply any deodorant you want, but I insist that you let me tie your tie."

As Sean began to stand, they were both surprised by his erection as it poked into Amanda's leg when he rose and the towel fell away. He turned slightly to avoid hitting her with it, but she would have none of that and moved her body to keep him positioned where she wanted him. "I won't torture you, but I deserve to see and feel your responses to me," she said as she pressed her partially clothed body against his nakedness.

"Either I get dressed or you get undressed," he said with a lustful grin. Amanda smacked him on his butt and led him back out to the bedroom for them both to finish dressing.

He stood before his closet trying to decide which suit to wear when the recognition that he didn't have to decide was an epiphany for him. He turned to Amanda at the opposite closet and saw her standing in her new dress smiling back at him. Without saying a word, she walked over to him, reached around his shoulder and selected a medium gray linen suit that was the perfect complement to the sleek sapphire blue dress that she had purchased for the evening. Amanda then moved over to his tie rack and selected a sapphire blue tie and pocket handkerchief the same color as her dress.

"I hope you don't mind, but I saw these earlier and thought that we would be a dashing couple because they would match my dress so well."

"You would make Quasimodo look dashing standing next to you, Amanda. I have been awed by your beauty since the first moment I saw you."

Amanda blushed at Sean's compliment, "I can see in your eyes that you really mean that Sean. I feel like a princess whenever I am with you."

***

Sean invited Kirby to join him walking Merlin around outside while Amanda spent time before dinner telling Carol and Wendy all about her ordeal and their plans for the foundation at Prestonwood. Sean knew his uncle had something to tell him and he didn't want to worry Amanda any more than she already was.

The sun was low on the western horizon, turning the wispy clouds magnificent shades from light orange to dark purple, but there was still plenty of remaining daylight for a quick walk around the semi-circular drive where all of Merlin's favorite bushes were planted.

"Amanda could win an Academy Award in 'stunning'," said Kirby.

"I couldn't agree with you more," said Sean. "Update me on the girls."

Kirby waited for Sean to pause for Merlin to do some business in the bushes before continuing, "As we expected, the bus was followed from the hotel to the maintenance yard, but we lost the tail from there. The bus carrying the girls made a clean break from all the others exiting the maintenance facility and was monitored for a tail all the way to Prestonwood without any being seen. The girls and their chaperones are settled and should already be having dinner by now. I went ahead and moved the assets we had on standby from the joint drug task force onto the property as an additional precaution, but it looks like we made a stealthy move all the way."

"What about Grandma Askew?" Sean asked.

"The last update I had from the Zorns was that she had them pack bags along with her and they will all be spending the night at Prestonwood to help get the girls settled."

"Good. That eases my mind and I know that Amanda will be relieved as well to know that the girls have Grandma Askew there with them on their first night in their new home. How are we set for here tonight?"

"I arranged for the County Sheriff to position a marked car onto Highway 109 across from the turn-off for the drive leading to this house. That should be a visible deterrent to anyone considering an unexpected visit, but the Bennet's have also augmented the security force with six additional men which will allow for the river approach to be covered as well. Gail Bennet is also prepared to meet with you in town tomorrow as you requested. Her husband Sam should also be available to join you."

Their conversation was interrupted as they both heard the sound of an approaching car and turned to watch it stop at the closed gate. The car was too far away and it was too dark to see what type it was, so they just stood observing the security team as they spoke to the driver of the vehicle. When the gate started opening and the car began to pull through, they both released the breath that they had been unconsciously holding.

"That must be our dinner guests," said Kirby.

"Probably," agreed Sean. "I guess we should head back to the house for dinner." 

Sean released the leash from Merlin's collar and let him run ahead of them back to the house. They were met on the front porch by Wendy and Amanda, with Merlin practically glued to her left foot as he was sitting beside her.

Sean had just finished kissing Amanda when Judge Evans parked his car in the drive beneath the porch. Kirby stepped down and opened the passenger side door. Amanda squealed in delighted surprise as Maureen McKenna took Kirby's hand and allowed him to assist her from the car.

"Moe!" exclaimed Amanda, "What a wonderful surprise. No one told me you were coming tonight."

"Actually, I did," said Carol with a giggle as she stepped out onto the porch beside the others. "You just didn't know that Maureen Evans still uses her maiden name professionally." Amanda looked up at Sean and asked, "And you couldn't have told me?"

"What, and miss the look on your face? Not bloody likely, as you Aussies say," he chuckled.

Amanda tried to pinch Sean's rear through his pants, but she found his body so firm that she couldn't get a grip on anything. She just smacked him playfully instead as they all turned to enter the house.

Once everyone was in the large atrium room where Carol had met them earlier, she began making the necessary introductions. Besides Amanda, Wendy apparently was the only person present who hadn't already met everyone else. Since Amanda had previously met Moe, her introduction to Judge Benjamin Evans brought her up to date. 

Benjamin Evans was nothing close to what Amanda would have expected Moe's husband to look like and definitely nothing as she expected a Federal Judge to appear. He seemed to be about the same age as Kirby, which Amanda imagined was in his mid-forties. She noticed that he was slightly taller than Kirby when they stood next to each other, and while slimmer than Kirby, Benjamin Evans presented a physical strength that his tailored business suit could not disguise. He had sparkling blue eyes and sun-bleached blonde hair that hung over his ears and just reached the collar of his shirt. Amanda couldn't wait for the opportunity to query Moe on how she and this professional man who resembled a dressed up surfer had met and fallen in love, which they obviously were.

As if reading her mind, Moe leaned over and whispered into Amanda's ear, "You and I have a lot to talk about."

***

Mickey had just set the intrusion alarm as she prepared to leave Sean's cabin when she heard the vehicles approaching. Walking to the front of the house for a better view, she saw the two large black SUV's rounding a curve in the drive about 100 yards in the distance. At first she thought that these must be FBI or other Federal agents, but as the vehicles drew closer, she realized that these were not the stripped down government versions of the largest General Motors SUV, but were instead the luxury version with the Cadillac brand proudly emblazoned on them.

Stepping back from the window to avoid being seen by the occupants of the SUV's, she tried to identify who they might be, but the dark tinted windows made this impossible. As the first SUV stopped just inside the clearing for Sean's cabin, about 25 yards away from the house and the doors began opening, Mickey quickly determined that her visitors were not going to be friendly.

Seeing the six heavily armed gang bangers coming out of the first vehicle, Mickey didn't wait to see who came out of the second before squatting behind the sofa to further hide her presence while maintaining visibility to the front of the cabin. When the first six men were joined by an additional half dozen from the second vehicle, they began fanning out around the cabin clearing, purposely checking out the structure as well as the other sheds and buildings that surrounded it.

Mickey crab walked to the kitchen counter and pulled the land line phone down onto the floor beside her. Dialing a number from memory, she willed the phone to be answered as quickly as possible.

Rick Acosta's voicemail greeted her after the first ring.

"Rick, this is Michelle Anderson. I am at Sean Wallace's cabin watching a dozen gang bangers surround the place. Please tell me that you still have some resources in the area. Even if I could get my car out of the garage without being seen, the driveway is blocked by their vehicles. I will try getting out on foot, but I need to know the best direction to head where I can get some support as quickly as possible. I'm going to try and make it to Glenn Parker's cabin, so try to get someone there as quickly as possible."

Mickey disconnected the call and crawled over to a window that would give her a view out the back of the cabin towards the garage. She saw three of the men enter the garage, stay for a few minutes and then exit and call over to another group of four, "Der's a car in da garage."

Mickey ducked down as more than half a dozen pairs of eyes turned to stare at the cabin. She crawled down the hallway towards the bedrooms which would place her the farthest from the garage and allow the house to block her exit from the men if they stayed where they were and she climbed out a window. She was wearing a black FLETC polo shirt, blue jeans, and black athletic shoes, so she hoped this would be adequate to help conceal her as the night continued to arrive. She once again counted her blessing that she had dark hair instead of being blonde and her arms and face still carried the deep tan that she worked on year-round. 

From the bedroom window she selected, she peeked over the edge and saw two of the men filling buckets with diesel fuel from the tank next to the shed holding the generator. She had a instinctive belief that they intended to use the fuel to start fire to the cabin and garage and knew that she had to get out before that happened.

Watching the men as they each took two buckets filled with fuel around to their colleagues near the garage, she waited for them to reach the back of the cabin and thus be out of sight of the window she intended to exit from. Believing her planned route from the cabin to the tree line was clear, Mickey quickly unlatched and began sliding the window up.

Her heart jumped as she heard the first beeps from the alarm. She had forgotten that she had already armed it in preparation to leave and the grace period for her to exit without the alarm going off had passed. She didn't know how long she had before the warning beeps became a shrill siren alarm, but she knew that she needed to be in the trees by then if she hoped to make a clean escape.

Raising the window as far as it would go, she quickly punched out the screen and scurried through the window and onto her knees outside the cabin. Taking a quick check to make certain that she hadn't been spotted, she stood and dashed directly for the nearest trees. It placed her about 90 degrees from where she needed to be in order to take the path to Glenn Parker's cabin, but she felt she would be able to find the path without too much difficulty before the sun had set completely.

She had just reached the first row of trees when she heard the shouts from the men indicating that they had spotted her. She was heading in a northerly direction and knew that she needed to swing west in order to meet up with the path but she had to put enough distance between herself and the gang at the cabin before she could risk turning in that direction. The undergrowth in the woods was thick and this combined with the low-hanging branches from several trees made her journey much slower than she would have liked, but she realized that anyone chasing her would have the same challenges.

Mickey paused for breath when she reached a dry streambed. She figured that she had run at least a quarter of a mile into the woods and she heard no sound of anyone pursuing her. After only a few minutes of rest and checking the location of the setting sun to establish her direction, she turned left and began heading toward where she hoped to find the path to Glenn Parker's cabin. Upon turning, she caught sight of the smoke billowing above the trees in the vicinity of where Sean's cabin was. She couldn't see the fire, but judging by the thickness and darkness of the smoke, she assumed the cabin was fully engulfed in flames.




Heavy Traffic Ch. 12



Mickey was about thirty feet from exiting the path into the clearing around Glenn Parker's cabin when she heard the shots. Moving quickly off the path and into deeper cover from the surrounding woods, she tried to be a quiet as she could while moving towards the cabin. The approaching sunset had left the area surrounding the cabin in darkness almost as deep as full nightfall would have provided, so her movements were influenced by touch and sound more than her sight.

Reaching within ten feet of the clearing behind low hanging branches and scrub brush, Mickey finally came to a point where she could see the front of the cabin. She saw another half dozen gang members standing around an SUV while laughing and looking down at a body lying on the porch of the cabin. Mickey couldn't see the face, but recalling what she had seen him wearing the last time they had spoken, she was certain that the body was that of Glenn Parker.

Realizing that this cabin would not provide her the refuge she had been hoping for, Mickey began slowly backing into the cover of the woods once more. As she turned to head back to the path, the ground at her feet suddenly erupted around her as automatic gunfire tore into it. Freezing in place, Mickey drew her own weapon and searched frantically for the source of the gunfire. Spinning to her right at a sound, Mickey felt the blow to her right forearm which knocked the gun from her grip just as she was grabbed from behind by arms that encircled her body and pinned her own against her body. She was lifted off the ground enough where she could get no purchase for her attempted kicks to do any harm to the person holding her, even if any of them happened to connect. The placement of a gun barrel under her chin brought her feeble resistance to an end.

"We got us a white bitch," said the man who was still holding her off the ground. "Ax Minor what he wanna do wif her."

Mickey heard another man talking, and assumed he was using a walkie-talkie or other radio because the cell service was non-existent in the area. She couldn't make out what was being said, due both to the distance and the unintelligible 'gangsta' slang being used. The conversation was short and within less than a minute she saw three additional men approaching her, all armed with automatic weapons and brandishing them boldly in her direction.

The man holding her let her down, but maintained an unbreakable hold on her arms as he spun her around. Facing the man, her eyes came level with his chest, and as she tilted her head to look up at him, she saw a monster of a man that would scare Mt. Rushmore. He stood at least six feet ten inches and Mickey estimated that he weighed at least three hundred and fifty pounds. His dark skinned facial features were difficult to make out in the dim light, but what she saw of them made her stomach roil. He had the smallest eyes she had ever seen on a human being and their size was amplified by the large nostrils on his snout-like nose and his enormous mouth that seemed to stretch from ear to ear.

As he continued to hold her arms while another man maintained the barrel of the gun against her jaw, Mickey felt other hands removing her cell phone, badge, gun holster and hand cuffs from her belt. One of the hand cuffs was placed around her right wrist, and only then did the monster of a man allow enough slack in his hold for her wrists to be brought together behind her back and the other hand cuff was attached to her left wrist. Her pockets were searched and what few items they contained were removed and held by one of her captors. She felt plastic cable ties being placed around each of her ankles, and then these were connected to each other by a third cable tie. Her breath caught involuntarily as a black plastic garbage bag was placed over her head and taped was wrapped around her neck to hold it in place. Before she exhausted the limited oxygen inside the bag, she felt a knife cutting a small slit into the plastic when the point scratched across one of her cheeks. Mickey ignored the blood that she felt trickling down her face as she rejoiced in her ability to breath with the bag covering her head. She had to use her tongue to keep the plastic from being sucked into her mouth or nostrils, but she knew she wouldn't suffocate.

The huge man who had captured her lifted her as if she weighed nothing and roughly flung her over one of his shoulders and began walking. The bag rustling on her head and face made what little conversation that was taking place almost impossible for her to hear, but she got the impression that they were headed back towards the larger group of men at Sean's cabin. She could only pray that the message to Rick Acosta would result in help arriving before she was taken someplace where no one would know of her location.

At seventeen, Minor Ellis had been 'running' the 'Pirates' for the past year since his father; Major Ellis had been sent to Autry State Prison after being convicted of statutory rape of a fifteen year old girl. Major Ellis still gave the orders from his prison cell. Everyone knew that Minor was usually just relaying his father's commands, but even if there was a question of where the orders came from, Minor Ellis was recognized as being more dangerous than his father and no one who knew him would refuse to do exactly what he told them to do.

After the monster of a man, known in the gang as "Rhino" had dropped Mickey at Minor's feet on the drive with Sean Wallace's cabin in flames behind him, Minor made the quick decision to take this bitch to DeMarcus Steele personally. I-Bar's reputation for treatment of white women was something that Minor wanted to witness in person.

"Put da bitch in my ride," he told no one in particular.

The group seemed to assume that Rhino would do Minor's bidding, and they were not disappointed. The huge man reached down and picked Mickey up by grabbing the back of her polo shirt. There was an audible ripping noise as the front of the shirt tore open and two of its buttons flew off into the dirt drive. Carrying her by her shirt with one hand, Rhino walked over to one of the SUV's, opened the back double doors, and unceremoniously threw Mickey behind the last row of seats.

"We be meetin at da Outpost," said Minor to the rest of his gang and everyone started heading for one of the vehicles. Minor got behind the wheel of the SUV with Mickey in the back, started the engine and led his gang back out towards the highway. When he reached the highway, he saw the SUV's that had been at Glenn Parker's cabin parked on the shoulder waiting for him. He turned north on the highway and the four vehicle caravan accelerated away from the burning cabins.



Heavy Traffic Ch. 13



Sean knew that he had never seen his Grandmother Wallace laugh so much, especially during a formal dinner. She started the meal in exceptionally good spirits, and that made her even more susceptible to the humorous tales that Amanda told about her life in Australia, as well as the anecdotes that Ben Evans shared about dumb criminals. Sean, Kirby, Wendy and Moe also struggled with timing every bite of food or drink of wine to avoid embarrassing themselves by laughing with their mouths full.

In honor of Amanda, Carol Wallace had planned a meal that included roast leg of lamb with a cherry glaze as well as prime rib and Cornish Game Hens. Several wines from well-known McLaren Vale vineyards were served, including a Shiraz that was bottled exclusively by a Wallace Holdings subsidiary. 

Amanda couldn't express enough how much she appreciated the effort that Carol had obviously put into arranging the meal on such short notice. Sean, Kirby and Wendy were even more impressed with Carol Wallace's efforts to make Amanda feel welcomed, and they all congratulated her on her planning.

For her part, Carol Wallace glued herself to Amanda, foregoing her spot at the head of the dining table so that she could sit next to Amanda. Kirby was placed at the head of the table, with Wendy around the corner from him and the Evans next to her, across from Sean and Amanda. After the meal was complete, Carol took Amanda's hand and led her into the solarium before Sean could take his place beside her. 

As the other guests joined them in the room, Carol sat on the sofa and indicated for Amanda to sit next to her. Sean was preparing to take a seat on the other side of Amanda when his grandmother spoke.

"Sean, would you please provide us with some entertainment?" Carol lifted a beautifully crafted acoustic guitar and handled it across Amanda to Sean before he had a chance to respond.

Amanda released Sean's hand that she had been holding after he had sat on the couch and brought it to her mouth. Her wide-eyed expression as Sean scooted over to give him space to lay the guitar on his thigh while his left hand moved up the neck made him smile. He didn't notice her starting to shake, but Carol did and she placed her arm around Amanda's shoulder.

Sean glanced to the ceiling as if trying to make a decision before turning his gaze back to Amanda as he started playing. After a brief intro, he began singing the lyrics to the Moody Blues song, "For My Lady". He had learned it years before when he had discovered that his father had once dedicated that song to his mother, so Sean wanted to surprise them both with it on their anniversary. Both of his parents had been in tears when he performed it for them that day, but the tears that flowed now from Amanda's eyes startled Sean. By the time he had finished the song, Amanda was sobbing uncontrollably. She bolted from the couch and literally ran from the room with Carol in pursuit.

Sean was too stunned to react. He leaned the guitar against the side of the couch and stood looking in the direction that Amanda and Carol had disappeared. No one else in the room said anything as they looked to one another in search of someone with an explanation that none of them had. Finally, Sean began walking towards the exit that Carol had followed Amanda through, but he had only taken a few steps when Amanda and Carol re-entered the room. 

Amanda's face was expressionless, but Carol's held a smile. Amanda didn't say a word as she walked up to Sean, threw her arms around his neck and kissed him as if there was no one else in the room. As she separated from him and pulled back to look into his eyes, Sean could see more love than he thought a person could contain.

"Do you remember our conversation this morning?" Amanda asked.

"Which one?"

"The one where I expressed concerns over how fast things were moving with us."

"I remember," said Sean with a tone of uncertainty in his voice.

Amanda kissed him lightly again and said, "I'm sorry I ever doubted us. Thanks for the 'gravy'.""

Taking Sean's hand, she led him back to the couch where Carol had resumed her position. Amanda guided Sean to sit next to Carol, and once he was in place, Amanda took his previous spot and pulled the guitar into her lap. Everyone watched without comment as Amanda positioned the guitar much like Sean had done, and began to play. Her song selection was immediate and moistened the eyes of everyone except Kirby and Ben Evans, but even they would have been hard pressed to distinguish Amanda's live performance of "That's All I Know For Sure" from the Olivia Newton-John version.

When she finished, Amanda ignored Sean's own amazed expression, stood and pulled him to his feet beside her. She led him over to the piano across the room and encouraged him to sit beside her on the bench. Turning to the others in the room, she said "Watch this."

To Sean she said, "Start playing. Pick any song you want."

"Do you play the piano too?" Sean asked as he positioned his hands on the keys and his feet on the pedals.

"Just play," Amanda said.

Accepting her obvious challenge, Sean began playing a Frank Mills composition that his mother had always enjoyed. He hadn't finished ten notes before Amanda matched him on her side of the keyboard and said, "How did you know that 'Music Box Dancer' was one of my mother's favorite songs?"

"I didn't," Sean said as they finished the song and their audience cheered. "It was one of my Mom's favorites."

Amanda leaned over and kissed Sean before saying, "Now it's my turn." She began to play a song, and just as she had done with him, Sean quickly recognized "The Last Farewell" by Roger Whittaker and matched her playing note for note, chord for chord.

After they had finished the song and returned to the couch, Amanda thought that the others in the room deserved an explanation.

"As you all know, Sean and I met just yesterday. While I believe we both recognized and accepted the instant bond between us, the logical part of me still questioned how two people who had just met could be as compatible as Sean and I seemed to be for each other. From our last names being the same to us both being orphans who inherited family businesses, the synergism between us continues to startle me, as it did when I learned that we both played the guitar. For every theoretical argument against our instant love, Sean presents more proof to validate it. Even though Sean tried to explain it to me this morning, tonight I truly realize that my life with Sean is going to be a wonderful and exciting exploration of all we shared before we even knew each other. I will revel in anticipation of all the new experiences we will share for the first time together and I have completely dismissed all fears where our love is concerned." 

Turning to look Sean in the eyes, she said "I love you more every minute Sean. Thank you for sharing your life with me."

Sean leaned over and kissed her on the forehead before responding, "I have no life without you Amanda."

Moe, Carol and Wendy were all dabbing tissues against the tears in their eyes as they watched Amanda and Sean professing their love. Ben Evans removed a folded paper from his inside coat pocket and reached across the coffee table presenting it to Amanda.

"Here is the Marriage License we discussed earlier. It's valid for one year and acceptable for weddings performed in all fifty states, but it will need to be recorded here in Tennessee after the ceremony."

Amanda took the license, held it against her breast and whispered a faint, "Thank you" to Judge Evans. 

Sean reached across to shake Ben's hand and said, "We won't need anywhere near a year, will we Amanda."

Amanda crawled into Sean's lap without regard for what anyone else thought of her action and replied, "It's only a formality, but we should get it out of the way as soon as possible." Turning to Carol she asked, "Carol, could we hold a reception here a few days after the wedding?" Turning back to Sean she continued, "That way we could keep the actual ceremony small and confuse fewer people about when our marriage became legal without excluding anyone from the reception."

Before Sean could answer Carol responded to Amanda's question, "This is now your house Mrs. Wallace. I would be honored to help you plan any reception you want to hold in your home."

"And I'll help," offered Wendy before even bothering to consult with Kirby, who just laughed and pulled his wife tightly against him as he was nodding.

Finding an opportunity to respond, Sean asked "Is there anyone from Australia that you would want to attend either the wedding or the reception? Allowing them time to make travel arrangements is the only thing I can see that might delay us getting married within the next couple of weeks."

Amanda replied to Sean, "I would like to invite a few people to the reception, but there's no one that I need at the wedding itself besides you and me." Turning to Carol, Amanda asked, "Carol, would you and Beth agree to stand with me as my Matrons of Honor?"

Carol became too emotional to respond for several minutes. Finally she nodded and tried to make her words intelligible through her lingering sobs, "I would be so proud to stand with you Amanda. I would also like to offer you my wedding dress, and I'm certain that Beth will offer you hers as well..."

"That's very generous of both of you Carol, but I hope you're not offended if I decline your offers. I still have my mother's wedding dress which I already made arrangements this afternoon to have sent to me. I would love for both of your dresses to be in my wedding however. Do you think they would be suitable gowns for you to wear standing beside me? Maybe without the veils and trains?"

"That's a wonderful idea," said Moe. Wendy agreed.

"I'm glad you think so," said Amanda, "because if you two will agree to be brides maids for me, I would love for you to wear your wedding dresses as well."

***

Mark Morris didn't wait for Kimberly to get out of the lawyer's car before he stormed up to the front door of their house and began to unlock the door. She had been yelling at him since they had left the Federal Building and he wanted nothing more to do with her for the rest of the night if possible.

The four FBI agents who had interviewed them, separately and then together, had focused their questions on the location of Tom Folsom and what the Morris' knew about some smuggling of young girls into the country. Mark and Kimberly could honestly answer that they didn't know the location of Tom Folsom and that they had no knowledge of any human trafficking. 

The consistency of their responses, along with the continued and escalating threats from the lawyer that DeMarcus Steele had arrange for them, finally convinced the FBI agents to let them go home for the evening as long as they would agree to return to the Federal Building the following morning and submit to polygraph examinations.

Entering the foyer of their house, Mark left the front door open for Kimberly and tossed his keys onto the small table next to the upright coat rack. He had just removed his suit jacket when he heard Kimberly close the front door and resume her tirade, so he didn't hesitate to hang his coat, but carried it with him into the living room where he intended to visit the bar and pour himself a drink. 

He pulled up short when he saw that they had guests. Following on his heels, Kimberly was still spewing invectives at Mark when she too recognized that they were not alone in the house. She fell silent as her and Mark both just stared at the four men positioned around the room with three of them pointing automatic weapons at them.

***

Tom Folsom had never seen DeMarcus Steele this insanely angry, and never angry for this long. DeMarcus had originally been pissed that the bus carrying the girls from the hotel had been lost while in route to their new destination, but then he had been elated when he had received an update from that punk Minor Ellis informing him that his gang had found Sean Wallace's cabin down in Seminole County, and that they had captured a white woman who had been hiding there. DeMarcus had been indifferent about the news of Glenn Parker being killed and then both cabins being burnt to the ground, but his excitement about the white woman kept building for the three hours it took for Minor Ellis to arrive at the safe house outside Macon.

As soon as he heard the white woman's voice, I-Bar's mood started darkening and his anger seemed to feed on itself as he discovered that not only was his hope that Minor Ellis was bringing him Amanda Wallace dashed, he then learned that the backwater idiot had brought a fucking Federal agent right to his own safe house. The only thing that saved Minor Ellis from almost certain death was I-Bar's recognition of who his father was. Two of Minor's associates didn't share the same level of paternal protection, and didn't have the sense to keep their mouths shut when I-Bar started screaming at all of them over their stupidity. I-Bar didn't hesitate to pop each of them with his own gun, quickly placing a single bullet into one forehead and then the other before anyone could react.

Minor Ellis and Rhino each made a move for their guns, but the barrels of nine millimeters against their temples, courtesy of Q-Tip and Splint, halted their efforts to respond. The rest of Minor's gang were too young and inexperienced to put up a challenge against the street-hardened killers at I-Bar's service, so they meekly surrendered their own weapons and returned to the vehicles that had brought them, taking the bodies of their fallen along.

Folsom had stayed out of the way as much as possible over the past four hours as I-Bar screamed at anyone in proximity to him as another angry thought entered his mind. The woman still had the garbage bag over her head as she sat on the deck with her hands tied to the railing. I-Bar and everyone else had been careful not to say anything around her that would divulge their names, location, or any other details that could be used against them should the woman eventually be released. She appeared to be sleeping at the moment, but Folsom knew that she would not be allowed to do so for long. 

I-Bar hadn't started in on her yet due to his vacillating over the fact that she was a Fed, but that didn't stop him from inflicting minor humiliations when the opportunities presented themselves. After being tied to the railing for almost three hours, the woman could no longer avoid her body's demands and she had released her bladder where she sat. Her jean clad legs and underwear had soaked up a lot, but there was an obvious puddle spreading around her on the deck. I-Bar had personally turned the water hose on her, drenching her from head to foot as he washed her urine off her and the deck. Her damp clothes were not allowed to dry after that. I-Bar made certain that as soon as her body stopped dripping water from the last soaking, she would get hit with the cold water from the hose again. The evening temperatures had been in the sixties, so there was no chance of hypothermia, but the chill of the water and the cooling breeze on her wet clothes kept the woman shivering where she sat. Even now, Folsom could still see the occasional shiver emanating from her wet body as he stood in the kitchen at the window that faced the back deck.

I-Bar came into the kitchen with Splint and Q-Tip in tow. DeMarcus pointed to the table, and Folsom understood that to mean that I-Bar wanted him to take a seat. Folsom sat in one of two chairs along one edge of the table while DeMarcus took his normal position at the head of the table. Q-Tip stood behind I-Bar while Splint went to the sink behind Folsom and turned the water on. Folsom glanced over his shoulder at Splint to see him washing something in the sink, but he couldn't determine what it was from this angle. 

DeMarcus spoke to get Folsom's attention back on him, "You got any suggestions on what I should do with that bitch out there?"

"Do you even know who she is or what she was doing at Wallace's cabin?" Folsom asked.

DeMarcus nodded and answered, "Her name is Michelle Anderson. She's a senior agent with Immigration and Customs Enforcement, and apparently she is in charge of the investigation into my shipment of girls. Don't know why she was at Wallace's cabin though, but it nails down the fact that Wallace is involved and probably has my shipment hidden away somewhere."

"Do you think she might know where the girls are?" Folsom asked.

"I'm sure that she knows, and probably a whole lot more. The issue is how do we get her to tell us what she knows? There's going to be enough heat coming down because of Minor bringing her to me, now I have to figure out how to get that cooled down without causing more heat in the process. Offing a Fed is serious shit."

"Without question," agreed Folsom. "She's only seen Minor and his gang, so you could probably safely assume that they would take the fall for abducting her. We need to find someone else to pin her interrogation, torture, and eventual death on that leaves you in the clear."

"That's what Q-Tip and Splint came up with too," DeMarcus said. "I guess if you are all in agreement on it, I should trust your opinions and go with it."

Folsom saw Q-Tip step slightly back from I-Bar so that he was no longer directly behind him. What he didn't see was Splint placing Michelle Anderson's gun behind his head. Folsom saw the bullet dent the stainless steel door of the refrigerator, followed immediately by the blood splatter before he heard the shot in his ears. He heard and saw nothing more.

I-Bar looked down at the front of his shirt to make certain that none of Folsom's blood or brain matter had landed on him before standing up and addressing his men. "You know what to do. I'll be waiting for you at the house. Make certain that you mind what you say when there's any chance the bitch might hear you. I don't want to lose any more friends today."

***

Amanda was once again amazed at how Sean's rock hard body felt so soft and warm when pressed against her own. After her orgasm had subsided she had collapsed with Sean still captured inside her. Even now, as they spooned together with her back to his front, his firmness remained embedded and she would occasionally manipulate her muscles to squeeze him and hopefully keep him excited until they had recovered enough to continue. She knew that it was her own recovery that they were waiting for, since Sean had more stamina than any human that Amanda had ever known. She had an instinctive feeling that Sean would try to get her to accept sleep over more sex, so she was formulating her strategy to counter his suggestion.

For his part, Sean silently reveled in the feelings that being so physically joined to Amanda brought him, and they weren't all physical by any means. He felt like he had finally found the lock to a key he had always possessed, and that thought made him smile as he considered his 'key' being buried deep inside her 'lock' at that very moment. Brushing the carnal images aside, Sean focused on all the ways that Amanda and he seemed so compatible. Certainly these were demonstrated exceptionally well tonight after dinner, but he knew that their bonds went so much deeper.

When Amanda started making wedding plans with his Grandmother, Moe and Wendy, Sean knew that he had to make their excuses to retire for the evening or he and Amanda would not be alone until after midnight. He was pleased that Amanda willingly cooperated with his escape plans, and they had been able to bid goodbye to everyone in relatively short order before heading to their room on the third floor. He was even more pleased when Amanda started undressing him the second that the door to their room had closed.




Heavy Traffic Ch. 13



"Are you ready to update me on things?" asked Amanda.

Sean began to pull back so that he could look into her eyes when he responded, but Amanda grabbed the back of his thigh and held him in place within her. "You're fine right where you are. Please tell me what you have been waiting to tell me all evening. Is it about the girls?"

Sean kissed the back of her head before responding, "The girls are fine. Uncle Kirby updated me before dinner about the move from the hotel to Prestonwood, and everything worked to perfection. He did add a few more people to the perimeter security, but that was due more to them being available rather than him really believing they were necessary. Grandma Beth and the Zorns are staying at Prestonwood with the girls as well, at least for tonight."

"That doesn't surprise me," said Amanda. "Beth gave me the impression that she was going to take personal care of the girls, so what better way for her to do that than to be there with them, especially during their transition."

"I also received an e-mail from my friend Kyle Mason with the results of his research into Tri-Star Partners. I haven't had a chance to read it thoroughly yet, but the summary that Kyle included indicates that there are several different Federal and State agencies with more than a casual interest. Apparently, Tri-Star Partners is a legitimate front for a criminal cartel made up of three different criminal organizations, and DeMarcus Steele's gang is just one of these."

"Who are the others?"

"Kyle is still checking to be certain, but suspicion right now lies with the heads of the Hispanic and Korean gangs in the Atlanta area."

"I had always heard America described as 'a melting pot', but I imagined it slightly differently. Where does Tom Folsom fit into this?"

Sean flexed his erection inside of Amanda in response to her attempted humor, which elicited a purring moan from her at the same time he replied to her question, "I'm just guessing, but I believe that Tom Folsom and DeMarcus Steele have a history that goes back to their youth. I don't know which of them had the idea to bring Tri-Star Partners into Wallace Enterprises, but it really doesn't matter now. Ben Evans told me after dinner that forensic accountants from the FBI believe they can have Tri-Star's accounts dissected by tomorrow afternoon, after which, all Wallace Enterprises accounts will be identified and we can make arrangements to get them back under our own control. By the time most of my former financial staff gets back to work on Monday, we should have plenty for them to do putting things in order once more." The last words were delivered around the groan which Amanda's muscular ministration induced from Sean as he felt her rippling all around his firmness.

"Any word on how the investigation into who is behind the attempted trafficking of the girls?" Amanda could barely contain the elation she felt from the effect her body had on Sean. She couldn't have been much less experienced sexually, but pleasing Sean was as instinctual to her as breathing. She would never stop pleasing him, or deriving pleasure from him in any way possible.

"No, but maybe Mickey will have more for us when she gets here this weekend. Can we talk about something else for a while?"

"Of course Sean, but I want you to promise me one thing first." She wiggled back, impaling herself on him even further before continuing.

Sean groaned deeper. "Anything I have to give is yours Amanda."

"Promise me that you won't shelter me. You can care for me as I will care for you. You can protect me as I will protect you. If you want, you can even worship me as I already worship you, but please don't shelter me. As long as you are beside me Sean, I can face anything. Please don't hesitate to share anything with me. Okay?"

Sean tightened his arms around her and kissed the back of her head once more as he said, "If I gave the impression that I doubted your strength, I apologize. You are the strongest and bravest person I have ever known, and you make me so proud in so many ways. I don't hesitate to tell you things for any reason other than trying to find the most suitable time for me to share the information with you. I don't want to cheat you by dropping only partial information on you, or not allow you to discuss the revelation due to some interruption or something. I respect you too much to deny you proper disclosure. Do you understand?"

"I do," said Amanda, "but did you notice that I didn't promise not to shelter you?"

"What do you want to shelter me from?" teased Sean.

"Other women."

"There are no other women," said Sean. "You'll have to deal with me all on your own."

As Amanda began to slowly slide herself beside Sean, stroking him inside her, she said, "I have seen how other women look at you Sean, even when they don't know who you are. That makes me proud more than it concerns me, but when your attractiveness to women is coupled with your naïveté and gentlemanly tolerance, I believe it is my duty to minimize the situations where a woman may try to take advantage of you. I saw how Mickey tried everything she could think of to seduce you, but more importantly, I saw how much her actions made you uncomfortable. I will do everything in my power to shelter you from that discomfort in the future. It has nothing to do with jealousy or a lack of trust in you, Sean. I care too much about your feelings to let you endure uncomfortable situations if I can prevent them."

Sean placed a hand under Amanda's chin and slowly turned her head so that he could kiss her lips while maintaining the position of their lower bodies. Once he had accomplished his immediate objective of the kiss, he responded to her. "I actually appreciate that. Mickey has wanted a physical relationship since we met years ago, and while I know that it might be hard to believe that any guy would turn such an offer down, I am not built that way I guess. My parents, and then my grandmothers always tried to shelter me from girls and women who would throw themselves at me sexually in hopes of latching onto my money. When I was in the Corps, I met women around the world who saw me as just an American G.I. I dated several women, and while I had sex with many of them, I never sought a purely sexual relationship. Sex was part of the bigger picture, and always meant something to both of us at the time. With Kimberly, I was misled by the fact that she never asked about my work, family or how I supported myself while in school. I assumed that none of that mattered to her, when in reality, she apparently already knew everything about me and had targeted me for marriage."

Amanda's movements against Sean were becoming more urgent, but it was entirely a physical response to the arousal she was experiencing, and it didn't prevent her from continuing their conversation, "I really love that you have money, Sean. Although I haven't had the same opportunities for relationships, that you have, I also had to always consider the motives of any boy who showed any interest in me. When you tell me I'm beautiful, I can really believe that you see me that way and it's not just my money attracting you. I never had that before."

She rolled while holding onto Sean's thighs to pull him along on top of her. Once she was on her stomach, Amanda made her intention to rise onto her hands and knees evident to Sean, so he rose in a manner that maintained their connection while allowing her to get into her desired position.

"Keep talking to me," Amanda implored. "I love that we can achieve physical arousal while talking about normal topics. It helps justify all those times when we have been together and my body screams with desire for you. You really thought that Kimberly didn't know who you were?"

Sean maintained a steady, measured rhythm in his repeated thrusts. He slowly sank as deeply into Amanda as her body would accommodate before retreating at an even slower rate. He knew that he could maintain the restrained tempo, but he also sensed from her reciprocating movements that Amanda was going to quickly pick up the pace on her own. He wasn't wrong.

He hoped to distract Amanda by continuing their conversation as she had requested, "Well, she obviously knew my name, but as I said, since she never asked about anything related to my financial situation, I naively thought that she didn't care about such things. I had an apartment near the Vanderbilt campus that she would come to, but she never came to this house or to the offices as far as I know."

Amanda's felt her orgasm slowly begin. Rather than bursting inside her, it flowed in almost continuous waves of pleasurable, almost electrical energy as Sean continued speaking to her. She couldn't reply to his words, but she knew that he wouldn't disappoint her now.

Sean felt the ripples and shuddering contractions within Amanda's body as he kept up the pace that she orchestrated for the two of them with her involuntary movements to meet his thrusts. "I never knew that she and Tom Folsom were acquainted, but I can see now how he must have been manipulating her and Mark as well as me." 

Sean knew from her lack of verbal response that Amanda was no longer comprehending his words, so he focused his attention on his actions instead. As Amanda's orgasm continued to possess her body, all Sean heard from her were soft growls, groans and rhythmic mewing noises as he continued to match her movements against him. 

Amanda's body was failing her. As much as she wanted to continue and revel in this pleasure until Sean attained his own release, she realized that the convulsive electrical sensations of her orgasm had drained all the energy from her. As her body began to slump down onto the bed, she felt her grasp on consciousness slipping away. 

***

"Twenty-one", counted I-Bar as the latest gang member released his orgasm directly into the eyes of the bitch. "She is one tough white girl," he thought to himself, but he would break her eventually. He always did. DeMarcus Steele truly did hold white women in contempt – except for Kimberly, who he loved. For years he has watched as black men of influence, such as athletes, performers, and businessmen chose some white bitch as a trophy. He didn't know or care if these men loved their white bitches, but displaying a preference for a white woman over a sister in public had always angered I-Bar. He never considered how his planned future with Kimberly might conflict with his long-held belief about inter-racial relationships between black men and white women. He would do what he wanted and maintain his contempt for others who did the exact same thing. 

After every five or so men had used one of her orifices to bring themselves to a climax that they would shoot somewhere onto her body, I-Bar would once again question Michelle Anderson on the location of his shipment of young girls. Usually just the thought of being raped by a gang of black teenagers would get most white women to confess anything that I-Bar wanted from them, but this bitch took all the pain and humiliation that these boys gave her and remained steadfast in her refusal to answer his questions.

Turning to Q-Tip, I-Bar asked, "Got plenty of condoms left? This bitch is using more of them than usual?" I-Bar didn't care about whether the white bitch got pregnant or caught something from one of the gang members. He knew that she wouldn't be alive long enough for either to happen. His insistence that they all wear condoms while raping her was due to his concern for any sisters that these boys had sex with in the future. One of the problems with gangbangs was that if one of the dudes had AIDS or any other disease, it would likely be spread to all the others, and then make its way to some black sister. Then, there was the simple fact that eliminating DNA evidence left from the cum bath the bitch was getting was easier if it was all on her body rather than inside her someplace. 

"Got nuff for each to go a couple more turns," replied Q-Tip. "But we better hose her down pretty soon or none of dem will wanna do her agin."

I-Bar was about to respond when his cell phone rang. He recognized the caller ID and quickly stepped out of the room before answering the call from Jun Kim. Q-Tip continued to watch the abuse of Michelle Anderson while waiting for I-Bar to return. After about five minutes, an obviously infuriated I-Bar returned. He walked over to the table where Mickey lay tied and roughly pulled the gang member assaulting her mouth away from her. He had been gagging her with every plunge into her throat. To the other two boys assaulting her other openings I-Bar screamed, "Back off!"

As the gang members backed away from Mickey's ravaged form, I-Bar was reluctant to touch any part of her filthy body, but he didn't let his revulsion prevent him from grabbing a handful of her hair and forcing her to look directly at the fury displayed on his face.

"Party's over bitch!" I-Bar spat out. "Q-Tip, gimme dat broom."

Q-Tip quickly retrieved the indicated broom from a corner in the room and handed it to I-Bar.

Placing the handle of the broom against Mickey's already bloody sex I-Bar inserted it slightly as he continued holding her head so she was forced to look at his face. "Unless you tell me what I want to know, and do it fast, I will shove this broom so far inside your body that having kids will be the least of your concerns. We'll see how tough you are when the end is sticking out the top of your fucking head!"

When Jun Kim had called to inform I-Bar that he was holding Kimberly and Mark as leverage against Sean Wallace, I-Bar hid his rage over the Korean getting involved so soon, as well as his fear for Kimberly's safety in the hands of Kim's gang. Jun Kim made it clear that his frustration over the freezing of Tri-Star's assets was driving his involvement, so if he knew what Kimberly meant to DeMarcus Steele, it would provide him with leverage that I-Bar could not allow. He had to get the girls back and delivered so that he received the payment that would allow him to cover at least part of what his Tri-Star partners stood to lose if the accounts remained frozen for any period of time. He considered this white bitch the key to him solving his problems and he would make her pay for defying him.

Mickey tried to shake her head but I-Bar's grip on her hair prevented it. Tears continued flowing from her eyes as they grew wider with the continued penetration by the broom. As she felt the end of the broom pressing against her cervix, an involuntary gasp escaped her mouth.

"Tell me where my shipment of girls is!" shouted I-Bar as he exerted more pressure against the resistance Michelle's body was providing to the broom handle. The pain she was experiencing was evident in her eyes and by the blood dribbling from her self-inflicted biting of her lips to stifle the screams building within every inch of her body.

"Q-Tip, go get da pipe over dare and heat it real good on da stove. Let's see what a hot poke up dis bitch's ass make her say."

Mickey knew that these monsters had no intention of letting her live. She prayed that she would pass out before the pain became much worse, but if she had to endure the torture, she would. There was no way that she would ever allow these monsters to know where the girls were being safely kept.

***

Rick Acosta stood in the clearing where the remains of Sean Wallace's cabin were being hosed down by the firemen. The darkness that grew as the last of the flames had been extinguished enveloped him as much as his frustration over the situation consumed him. 

He cursed his decision to travel in Donaldsonville using his rental car instead of one of the National Park Service vehicles. That decision had left him without cellular service at the time when Michelle Anderson had been trying to reach him, and the delay in getting her voicemail message prevented him from getting a response team back to Wallace's or Parker's cabins for more than an hour after he had received the call for help. 

Acosta's frustration over the delay in responding was fed even more fuel when Mickey's status as a missing Federal officer automatically garnered an immediate and massive response from every local, State and Federal law enforcement agency in the Southeastern United States, but the search for her would be limited to boots on the ground until daylight allowed for aircraft to join in. After three hours on scene and they didn't have enough information on possible vehicles that the gangbangers Mickey had mentioned might have been driving, so road blocks were useless. Technical and forensic teams were examining the tire tracks and had already concluded that the wheelbase of the vehicles indicated they were likely pick-up trucks or large SUV's, but until the lab identified the specific tires and could isolate which vehicles used that tire brand, they were not much use.

The few bullet casings found at Glenn Parker's cabin were obviously from an automatic weapon, but the slugs inside Parker's body would not be available until the autopsy later in the day. At least the bullets had not passed completely through the body as happens far too frequently with high-velocity ammunition from automatic weapons.

Acosta wished he had more information about what had happened and where Michelle Anderson might be prior to making the call to Kirby Wallace. Getting a call in the middle of the night was never pleasant, but getting one that presented more questions than answers was the worst kind of wake up. He made the call anyway.



Heavy Traffic Ch. 14



"You've ruined me. You know that right?"

Sean looked up from the floor of the suite living room to see Amanda speaking to him from the door to the bedroom. "Ruined you how?"

"You've created an insatiable physical need within me - a need to have you inside me. Please come back to bed," Amanda pleaded.

Sean patted Merlin one last time before rising from the floor where they had been playing after his breakfast and approached Amanda. "I love satisfying all your needs, Mrs. Wallace," Sean said as he reached her and their bodies melded into each other. "However, going back to bed right now doesn't fit into my plans for us this morning."

"Oh, you have plans for us Mr. Wallace?" Amanda whispered in between nibbles to his ear.

"I do," Sean said as he pulled away from her and kissed her forehead. "And those plans require you to go get some clothes on that make you presentable to tour the property."

Seeing the lascivious look on Sean's face as he told her to get dressed was all the encouragement that Amanda required to turn from him and return to the bedroom to get dressed. She contemplated wearing shorts or jeans, but with the image of Sean's expression fresh on her mind, she selected the new denim skirt she had bought and a heavy cotton blouse.

Sean and Merlin were waiting for her in the kitchen when Amanda presented herself to them. "Perfect timing," Sean said as he admired her choice of clothing. "Merlin is due for some quality outdoor time after breakfast. Do you want anything to eat or drink before we go?"

"Food or drink is not on my mind yet. Maybe later," Amanda replied. "I'm ready when you are Mr. Wallace."

"Okay Mrs. Wallace. Wait here one minute." Sean quickly turned and went to his childhood bedroom, returning seconds later with a rolled up sleeping bag. 

Amanda smiled knowingly, took Sean's unoccupied hand, and accompanied him out of the suite with Merlin leading the way.

Kirby was waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs, and they could tell immediately that he had something disturbing to relate to them. Sean nodded at Kirby and they followed him silently into the atrium. Sean and Amanda took the same seats they had occupied yesterday while Kirby sat across from them on the couch.

"I've got bad news, really bad news, and even worse news," Kirby told them.

"The girls!" Amanda gasped.

"The girls are fine," said Kirby, "at least for the time being. What I have to tell you may impact that situation so we need to plan accordingly."

"What happened?" asked Sean as he squeezed Amanda's hand to reassure her.

Kirby related the few details that Rick Acosta had shared in his initial report, as well as the little additional information that Kirby had been able to obtain in the hours since he had been notified.

"The loss of the cabin doesn't concern me that much, especially when compared to the death of Glenn Parker. What time did Mickey call for back-up?" asked Sean.

"A little after 8pm according to the time stamp on the voicemail she left," replied Kirby.

"Since there has been no additional communications from her, and no sign of her in the immediate area, you are assuming she was abducted?" asked Amanda.

"That's the working theory at this time," confirmed Kirby.

"...and since she knows the location of the girls," continued Amanda.

"We can't ignore the possibility that the location of the girls may get compromised," added Sean.

"If we increase the security much more at Prestonwood, it is likely to be noticed and reveal the location anyway," said Kirby. "I think a show of force there would be a deterrent, so it is a risk worth taking."

Amanda turned to Sean, "How soon could we get back to Atlanta?"

"We could be there within two hours, but I don't think there is any need to rush down there this morning. What do you think Uncle Kirby?"

"I agree," said Kirby. "I will begin augmenting the security with a more visible uniformed law enforcement presence, but keep the girls inside the buildings and not visible to anyone trying to identify the reason for the security. That should keep Prestonwood an enigma to anyone curious about the security there."

Amanda looked between Sean and his uncle and was certain that they were not merely trying to placate her. "Can we be there tonight?"

"I'll make sure that we're there in time for dinner," Sean assured her. "We have a couple of meetings in the office that we shouldn't miss, but immediately after those we can fly back to Atlanta."

Rising from beside Sean, Amanda kept her hand in his as she said, "I'm sorry your plans for this morning will have to wait..."

Sean rose beside her as Kirby stood across from them. "No problem issuing you a rain check Mrs. Wallace. Uncle Kirby, what are your plans?"

"Wendy and I need to get back to our offices, but I'll be monitoring developments during the drive and stay on top of things the whole way. If you need anything, you know how to get in touch with me."

Amanda hugged Kirby and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you so much Uncle Kirby."

Sean shook his uncle's hand before leading Amanda and Merlin back upstairs.

***

Erica Wayman stared out the windows in the executive floor lobby but didn't register the panoramic view before her. She was focused on trying to steel her nerves until she received the promised notification that her parents were no longer in danger.

An only child and twenty-six years of age, Erica still lived at home with her parents, both to keep her expenses as low as possible so that she could repay her student loans and to help her parents pay off of their mortgage prior to their retirement. Coupled with these reasons was the reality that Erica also was a naturally shy and introverted young woman who had never had much in the way of a social life separate from her parents and their friends.

As the assistant to Kimberly Morris, Erica wasn't surprised when her former boss called her in her apartment above her parent's garage late last night asking her to retrieve some personal items from her office. She was surprised however by the heavily accented male voice that then came on the phone and gave her further instructions -- ones that she was told to follow explicitly if she ever wanted to see her parents alive again. Running to the house where her parents lived, she found the front door open and her parents gone. Overturned tables and rugs bunched into piles on the floor indicated that her parents had not left willingly.

The first part of her instructions were very easy. After entering the elevator in the parking garage and using her access card to select the tenth floor, she had held the elevator doors open as she reached outside and placed her access card along the top ledge above the door frame. The card stuck out over the edge by more than a quarter of an inch, but in the poorly lit garage, someone would have to be looking for it to notice. Next, with Karen Kirkland gone, someone was needed to sit at the reception desk in the lobby until she could be replaced permanently. Since Kimberly Morris was no longer employed by Wallace Enterprises, Erica had little else to do at the moment, so her volunteering to fill in at reception was readily accepted by all the other assistants in the executive office. The rest of her instructions also seemed simple enough, but Erica doubted that the intentions of those threatening her parents were concerned with simplicity.

Erica forced a smile onto her face and faked a phone conversation as the elevator doors slid open. Her manufactured expression almost faltered when she saw that the occupants of the elevator were the people she had been told to watch for. As Sean and Amanda Wallace approached the door to the executive offices, Erica maintained her smile, nodded in recognition and pushed the release which would unlatch the door and allow them entry.

As soon as the door latched closed, Erica made a call on her cell phone. When it was answered, she reported, "Sean and Amanda Wallace have arrived."

"Fine," was the terse reply. "Be prepared to let a couple of unexpected visitors in as soon as they arrive. You'll be free to go visit your parents after that. They'll appreciate you untying them. They are at their house."

Erica gasped into the phone but the connection had already been broken.

***

As Sean and Amanda walked through the open cubicle space towards his office, they discussed removing the offices built for Tom Folsom and the Morris' but had made no decisions by the time they reached the office that Sean had been relegated to in his absence. Amanda smiled at Moe who was already in her cubicle talking on her phone and reviewing a calendar on her computer.

Sean had barely closed the office door after he and Amanda had entered when there was a knock. Opening it again, Sean saw Bill Lester and invited him in. Amanda was taking a position at the desk, setting her laptop out on the surface and starting to pull various cords out of her messenger bag, but she stopped to say "good morning" to Bill.

"Good morning," Bill said to them both. "Sean, I've shared the data on Tri-Star Partners from Kyle Mason with the FBI and they've asked us to come over to the Federal building as soon as you arrived. Can you spare an hour or so to meet with them this morning?"

"Can't they send their agents over here to meet with us?" asked Sean.

"I thought it would be less of a disruption to the office if we met with them at their office," said Lester. "After yesterday's excitement, I assumed you would prefer if we kept things as normal as possible around here."

Sean simply nodded, then glanced over at Amanda and asked, "What time is our conference call with the lawyers?"

"Eleven thirty," Amanda said as she watched her computer booting up. "I can reschedule it if necessary though."

"No," Sean said. "It's only nine thirty now, so let's keep it as scheduled. It will leave me with an excuse to get out of the meeting with the FBI in case I need it. Is there anything else that you need me for this morning?"

Amanda walked around the desk and approached Sean. "I want you for everything, but I don't need you for anything work related that couldn't wait until later." She gave him a kiss, stepped around him and held the door for him and Bill. "I'll switch a few things around and free up our afternoon to return to Atlanta. Do you want to go someplace for lunch or would you like me to arrange to have something delivered?"

"It would probably be easiest to have something delivered," Sean said as he let Bill Lester preceded him out of the office. "I'm sure Moe or one of the other assistants could recommend something. Surprise me."

"More than I already have?" teased Amanda. 

Sean laughed at her over his shoulder as he and Bill Lester headed for the lobby elevators.

Moe joined Amanda at the door to her office as they watched Sean departing. Neither of them missed the eyes of virtually every woman following Sean as he walked out of their sight.

In the lobby, Sean paused and spoke to Bill Lester, "I thought you had arranged for there to be security positioned here in the lobby?"

Lester glanced at his watch and continued towards the elevators, "I did have it arranged. Once we get off the elevator on the ground floor, I'll make a call and follow up to see where he is."

Sean was not thrilled with Bill Lester's lack of urgency where security of the offices where Amanda would be staying in his absence were concerned, but at least there was a receptionist to screen anyone coming in and the guards on the ground floor could be there within minutes so he let his concerns rest for the time being as he followed Bill into the elevator.

As they were exiting the building, heading for the main outside parking lot where Lester's car was waiting, Sean took note of an almost forced calm in the way that Bill Lester ignored both the other people entering the building as well as their surroundings. Sean on the other hand studied every face he saw and constantly scanned their path for suspicious individuals or threats. Neither man spoke as they walked through the parking lot.

Sean's cell phone rang right after he had secured his seatbelt. Bill Lester started the car and began driving.

"What's up, Uncle Kirby?" Sean asked upon answering

***

Back in the office, Amanda spoke first, "Moe how well do you know Monica Franklin?" She turned and headed back towards the desk as Moe followed and closed the door behind them.

"Not terribly well," admitted Moe. "She's well-liked by everyone and I've never heard anything but good reviews about her performance, but I have no personal knowledge of her skills beyond that."

"I'd like for you to consider her for the position as Sean's assistant. Maybe she can assume the role on a temporary basis under your guidance so that you will be free to start getting involved in other things. For one thing, I would like for you to plan on a trip to Australia soon after my wedding reception. You need to start developing relationships with some key people there so that your involvement in the future transitional planning will be better informed. Will that be a problem for you and Ben?"

"None what so ever," Moe said. "Ben has plenty of vacation available to him, and as long as you don't mind me insinuating a little personal time into the trip, I'm sure he would welcome the opportunity to join me."

"Excellent," said Amanda. "When the time comes, work as much personal time into the trip as you and Ben want. My treat. Now, what about Monica?"

"I assume that you have spoken with Monica and have some intuition based reasoning behind choosing her, so I'm more than happy to accept her temporarily or for as long as you desire," said Moe.

"Moe, I value your opinion on these matters as well, so please don't hesitate to speak up if the circumstances call for it. I have spoken with Monica, and think that the devotion she demonstrated for Sean makes giving her a chance as his assistant less of a gamble than we might face with some others. Tell you what, why don't you ask Monica and Nina to join us here and let me lay a few things out for all of you? Afterwards, I would like your opinion on Monica's response."

Moe reached to open the door again, "Sounds fine with me Amanda, I'll go get them both and be right back."

Amanda returned to her laptop on the desk and had just finished confirming the conference call with the lawyers when Moe knocked and opened the door. After receiving an approving nod from Amanda, she led Nina and Monica into the office and closed the door.

"Thank you all for joining me on short notice," Amanda said as she closed her laptop and gave them her full attention. "Please sit wherever you feel comfortable."

Nina and Monica sat on opposite ends of the couch while Moe took one of the side chairs in front of Amanda's desk. Addressing Monica, Amanda said "Monica, do you know Nina and Moe?"

"Yes Mam," Monica said.

"Please call me Amanda. Did you give any thought to my suggestion yesterday for you to apply to be Sean's personal assistant?"

"Yes Amanda. I was going to ask if there would be an internal posting for the position that I should look for..."

Amanda interrupted her, "Unfortunately, we're going to need to circumvent normal procedures at this time. You're one of the first to know that Maureen McKenna has been promoted to a senior vice president position and will be assuming several new responsibilities going forward and starting almost immediately. With Sean and I merging our two organizations, our involvement in the day-to-day operations will be very extensive, at least for the short-term. Nina has agreed to take the role as my personal assistant, and I have already discussed with Moe you assuming the role as Sean's personal assistant, at least on a temporary basis in case you don't like it."

"Is Mr. Wallace okay with me being his assistant?" Monica asked.

"He certainly is," said Amanda, "but as I mentioned yesterday, while you will be Sean's personal assistant, you will be reporting directly to me. Are you okay with that arrangement?"

"I guess so, but I'm not sure exactly how that is supposed to work. Who do I take direction from? What if he tells me to do one thing and you tell me to do something different?"

Amanda turned to Moe and said, "Moe, why don't you describe for Monica how you functioned in those situations when you work for Sean's mother."

"It was really pretty simple," Moe said. "If Sean and Amanda are anything close to being as connected as Sean's parents Eddie and Allie were, and I think they're even more so, then the instances where there could be any difference in the direction they give you will be very rare indeed. In fact, I can only think of one time that it ever happened to me, and it was solved easily when I brought it to Allie's attention. It had to do with some plans that Eddie was making for her birthday, and even though she didn't want him to go to the trouble he was planning, she conceded to his wishes and encouraged me to follow his instructions over hers."

"Did you ever consider yourself Mrs. Wallace's 'spy' or anything like that?" Amanda asked.

"Not once," said Moe. "Eddie always appreciated that Allie used me as a sort of proxy for her taking care of him herself. He also knew that he could confide in me where his relationship with his wife was concerned because I knew he was simply using me as a 'sounding board' for whatever it was he wanted to eventually share with her. This seemed especially important to Eddie because there were frequently weeks or months when their only communication took place over the phone and he was concerned that his words or tone would not adequately convey the meaning that he wanted to share with Allie. Again, I don't see that being an issue with you and Sean."

Amanda moved her eyes around to the other women to make certain that she had their attention before continuing, "There is one specific area of Sean's support that I would like Moe and Nina to assist Monica with, and that relates to protecting him from other women."

The raised eyebrows from Moe, Nina and Monica brought a smile to Amanda's face. She continued, "Ladies, I trust Sean explicitly, and it is not his virtue that I am concerned with protecting. Rather, I want your assistance protecting Sean from having to protect his own virtue."

Moe nodded in apparent understanding, but Amanda could still see confusion on the faces of Nina and Monica. "We don't need to be concerned with a woman crawling in through his fly. Sean would never succumb to any advances of that nature. Our focus should be the more subtle attempts to compromise Sean's virtue and reputation, and this is where your own female instincts will be invaluable. Sean is the most intelligent man I have ever met, but I have witnessed first-hand how tolerant he is of unwanted flirtations rather than risk hurting someone's feelings. I expect each of you to always be aware of how other women interact with Sean and to bring anything that you feel is causing Sean discomfort to my attention, or to take steps yourselves to intercede and ease the situation for him. No matter who it is, or what Sean agrees to, we should never let any woman meet with him alone. That is a recipe for false allegations that could adversely impact Sean's reputation and worse, hurt his feelings. Always keep in mind that our prime concern will always be Sean's feelings."

Monica seemed to finally understand what Amanda was trying to say, "After seeing my little shrine to Sean, you not only want me to be his personal assistant but to also help protect his virtue?"

"Are you saying that I can't trust you around my husband?" Amanda asked with a smile.

"Sure you can," said Monica. "I'm just surprised that you do."

"I saw your devotion to Sean," Amanda said. "I also saw that your devotion didn't cease once you recognized that he was now married. However, my own female intuition tells me that as long as Sean is committed to someone else, in this case me, that you have placed him off-limits for yourself. Am I wrong?"




Heavy Traffic Ch. 14



"You're absolutely right," nodded Monica. "I have always felt that any man who could be stolen away from another woman wasn't worth having.

Nina and Moe both chimed in with their own agreement over that sentiment and all of them began discussing potential candidates among current female employees that Amanda might want to put the fear of God into.

In the lobby, the elevator doors slid open and two well-dressed Korean men stepped off. They were both of average height, but the heavier of the two had a badly pockmarked face and watery eyes. After quickly surveying the area and seeing no one but the receptionist behind the desk, they approached her. The thinner man spoke as he handed Erica her access card, "Release the door Erica, then go home to your parents."

Erica did as she was instructed and has pushing the button to take the elevator to the parking garage before the men had entered the inner offices and let the lobby door close behind them.

Amanda sat at the desk making notes of the names that her guests were providing in between their laughter over each of the candidate's ambitions towards Sean. When the office door opened without warning, her right hand had instinctively already moved into her messenger bag.

The two Korean men stepped quickly into the office and closed the door behind them. Looking directly at Amanda, the heavier of the two asked in a heavily accented voice, "You are Amanda Wallace?"

Moe, Nina and Monica all glanced at Amanda before turning their attention back to the strange men before them, knowing that they should remain silent and let Amanda deal with this situation.

Leaning back slightly in her chair, Amanda smiled at the men and replied, "I am Amanda Wallace. How may I help you?"

As if controlled by the same puppeteer's hand, both men pulled their suit coats aside to show the holstered guns that they each wore on their belts. Amanda recognized them both as automatics, probably nine millimeter from what she saw of them. "You must come with us," the heavier man said. "The others must stay."

"Why?" asked Amanda. "Don't you like my friends?"

Confused by this response, both men glanced briefly to Nina and Monica sitting on the couch. When they returned their eyes back to Amanda, they were staring at the barrel of Sean's own automatic pointed directly at their heads. They had not considered any resistance, and thus they had not positioned themselves strategically upon entering the room. They realized too late that the woman with the gun could cover both of them at the same time, shoot the first one that moved and still have time to shoot the second before he would be able to draw his own weapon. Was she good enough with a gun to accomplish this they thought.

As if reading their minds, Amanda said, "At this range I wouldn't need two shots. The way you are standing right now, my only shot would pass through you," she nodded towards the man in front, "and still have enough velocity to kill you," she nodded to the man behind.

Nodding their heads slightly in agreement, both men took care to keep their hands away from the sides of their bodies. They stood staring at Amanda for several seconds waiting for her to speak again.

Amanda never took her eyes off the two men as she watched them accepting their situation. Nodding once again to the man closest to her she said, "Lock your hands together on top of your head and lie down in front of the couch." He did as instructed once Nina and Monica had moved their feet out of his way. He was lying between the couch and the coffee table and the space was barely wide enough for him to keep his elbows from touching on either side. Once he was in position, Amanda nodded to the second man and gave him the same instructions, directing him to lie on the other side of the coffee table. He did as she directed without hesitation.

"Nina, can you or Monica remove the gun from that gentleman's holster?" Amanda asked.

Without responding, Nina leaned down and felt around under the suit coat until she located the hand grip of the gun and then removed it and sat back on the couch. She held the gun as if she had some experience with weapons, and Amanda noticed that Nina had even checked to insure that the safety was engaged as she removed it from the holster. Without being asked, Moe reached over and removed the gun from the other man's holster, once again impressing Amanda with her obvious experience with weapons.

"You gentlemen can feel free to relax now." Amanda told them. "Take a nap if you'd like, just do not make any attempt to rise from the floor until instructed to do so. Nina, Moe, are you okay with those weapons?"

"My father is a police officer, so I have a lot of experience with hand guns," said Nina.

Moe said, "As the wife of a Federal Judge, I have a concealed carry permit and have to qualify for it each year at the shooting range, so I'm fine as well.

"Excellent," said Amanda. "Please keep an eye on things while I make a phone call." She picked up her cell phone and quickly called Sean on his own. She was hoping that he would not have turned it off while meeting with the FBI. He hadn't.

"Hi Amanda." Sean answered. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Sorry to interrupt your meeting Sean, but I wanted you to know that we had a couple of gentlemen drop by unexpectedly for a visit..."

Amanda had tried to make her voice seem as light and trouble free as possible, hoping to forestall any concerns on Sean's part, but he wouldn't buy it. "Are you okay?" he asked with obvious concern in his voice.

"Everyone is fine, Sean. I just wanted you to know in case you wanted to mention our visitors to the FBI while you are there. They are resting comfortably at the moment and I'm sure I could convince them to wait for you to return with the FBI if that's what you want."

Amanda could hear the movement as Sean had obviously begun his return to the office when he said, "They're still there? I'll be back in under fifteen minutes."

"Sean, slow down. We have everything under control here and there really is no reason for you to rush like this. Get here whenever you can. We'll be fine until you get here regardless of when it is."

Amanda realized that she was wasting her breath as she heard Sean excusing himself as he rushed past people as well as the background sounds of several other feet running to keep up with him. Smiling to the group assembled in the office, she disconnected the call and said, "These men must be pretty important. Sean is rearranging his schedule just to meet with them."

Monica giggled while Nina and Moe each just joined Amanda with their own wide smiles. Amanda examined the shoes of each of the men and saw that they both wore leather dress shoes with laces. She allowed Nina and Moe to keep their guns on the men as she removed the laces from the shoes of each man and used them to securely tie their hands behind their backs. Once she was confident that they were secure, she returned to her desk.

"Moe, what was the name of the young lady at the reception desk this morning?" Amanda asked.

"Erica Wayman," replied Moe.

"Do you know the extension for the reception desk?" Amanda asked as she picked up the desk phone.

"The extension for reception on each floor is the two digit floor number followed by eleven, so for our lobby the extension would be '1011'," answered Moe.

Amanda nodded and dialed the extension. After four rings a recording asked her to select another extension number. Amanda hung up the phone. "Moe, Nina, are you comfortable watching these gentlemen while I go check out the lobby? No one is answering the phone out there."

"Only if you take Monica with you," said Moe. "You shouldn't go alone." Nina and Monica both agreed with Moe.

"Do you mind coming with me Monica?" asked Amanda.

"Not at all," Monica said as she rose from the couch, stepped over the man in front of her and walked towards the door. Amanda removed a set of keys from the center desk drawer, placed her gun back into the messenger bag, placed the strap over her shoulder and joined Monica.

"I'm going to lock the door when we go out. Please don't open it unless it is Sean or Bill Lester on the other side, although we should be back before they get here," Amanda told them. She led Monica through the door and then locked it behind them.

Other employees in the office area appeared to be oblivious to the situation in Sean's office. Amanda kept her hand inside the messenger bag as she and Monica quickly walked to the lobby doors. She looked back into the office area to see if anyone was watching them before removing the gun and slowly opening the door leading out to the lobby. Monica stood back briefly, but moved forward to take the door handle as Amanda moved further out into the lobby, holding the door so both of Amanda's hands were free and the door wouldn't close on her.

Amanda moved around to the back of the reception desk, looking for any signs that might explain what had happened to Erica Wayman while Monica remained at the door watching her. Amanda was examining the surface of the desktop for a note or other message when the elevator doors opened and two men rushed out with handguns drawn.

"Monica, close the door!" Amanda screamed as she immediately crouched behind the desk and aimed her own gun at the rapidly advancing men. One of them was a thin African American with shoulder length hair in some sort of braids, wearing a zippered sweatshirt with the hood against his shoulders. The other was a stockier built Hispanic with close cut hair and a black bandana tied around his forehead.

The men seemed so focused on getting to the door that Monica had been holding before it closed completely, that Amanda doubted they had noticed her. "Stop or I'll shoot!" she yelled.

Both men stopped and turned on Amanda simultaneously, pointing their guns at the perceived threat. "Drop you weapons!" Amanda ordered as she saw Monica finally getting the door to the inner offices closed completely.

"Police officers," yelled the Hispanic man. "Drop your weapon or we'll fire!"

"I promise that I will shoot you where you stand unless you drop your weapons immediately," said Amanda. "You are both in the open and exposed while I have this desk to protect me. What do you think the chances are that one of you can get to me before I kill both of you?"

Seeing that Amanda had in fact positioned herself behind both the chair and the desk, leaving precious little of herself visible to either of the men, they suddenly realized that she did in fact have them at a significant tactical disadvantage. There was nothing else in the room for them to take cover behind, and she could easily pick them off if they even tried to seek cover. To make their situation even more disadvantageous, the bright sunlight coming in the windows behind her position created a glare in their eyes that made them squint.

The black man spoke for the first time, "Mam, it is against department policy for us to surrender our weapons under any circumstances. Stay cool, and let us get back on the elevator. In a few minutes this building will be swarming with a tactical response team, and you can deal with them instead." 

"Don't move," said Amanda. "If you are really police officers, show me some identification, then I'll consider whether to let you leave this room."

While keeping their guns pointed in her direction, both men reached into their hip pockets and brought out badge wallets and flipped them open. They were too far away for Amanda to read the credentials, but the badges look genuine. "You don't look like police officers," she told them.

"I'm Detective Richards," said the black man, "and that's my partner, Detective Ruiz. We're undercover with the Narcotics and Vice Division. Under normal circumstances, we wouldn't blow our cover, but when everyone from the Governor on down sounds the alarm about an armed intrusion at Wallace Enterprises, whoever is closest responds, and that happened to be me and my partner. Can you tell us who you are?"

"I am Amanda Wallace." 

Detective Ruiz was the first to lower his gun as he smiled and said, "Well you make finding and protecting you an experience, Mrs. Wallace."

Also lowering his own gun, Detective Richards added, "I'm sure our undercover appearance wasn't what you expected the Calvary to look like. We were told that you had armed intruders. Can you tell us where they went?"

"The men you want are bound and being guarded in my office. I had come out to the lobby to check on the receptionist when you got off the elevator. Holster your weapons and I'll lower mine."

At that moment, the elevator doors opened again and all three guns swung in that direction. Sean came up so short when he saw the two men with guns pointed in his direction that Bill Lester and the two FBI agents collided behind him. Sean raised his hands but Bill Lester and the two FBI agents already had their guns drawn and were spreading out of the elevator to counter the threat that they had seen.

"FBI!" shouted one of the agents, "Drop your weapons!"

"Sean!" Amanda yelled as she rose and ran to him. It was this obvious recognition by her rather than the order from the Federal agents that convince the two undercover officers to lower their weapons.

Sean met Amanda half way across the room where they embraced and kissed without regard for anyone else in the room. "You sure you're okay?" Sean asked her the second that their lips parted.

"I'm fine Sean..." Her comments were interrupted as the doorway next to the elevator burst open and more than a dozen heavily armed SWAT officers flowed in out of the stairway. Bill Lester and the two FBI agents were forced aside as the stream of SWAT officers continued into the lobby.

Sean smiled at the scene unfolding in the lobby to his executive offices. Amanda hung on his left arm while she still held the gun in her left hand. Sean noticed this and whispered in her ear, "Maybe you should stow the gun now. I think we're pretty well covered without it."

Without comment, Amanda placed the gun back into the messenger bag that had remained on her shoulder the whole time. Bill Lester pushed his way through the crowd between him and the Wallaces. "Where are these intruders?" he asked Amanda.

Amanda didn't like the tone of his question and Sean liked it even less. Before either of them could answer however, Detective Richards replied, "Detectives Richards and Ruiz, Hendersonville Police. The intruders are secured in Mrs. Wallace's office. My partner and I were just about to take them into custody when back-up arrived." He indicated the SWAT team.

Bill Lester once again addressed Amanda, "Do you know where the release is at the reception desk to unlatch the door?"

Amanda glanced at Sean when she felt a barely imperceptible tensing of his body. She looked back at Bill Lester before saying, "Yes."

Bill Lester had already started walking towards the inner office door when he addressed Amanda over his shoulder, "Why don't you push the release so that we can go chat with these guys and find out who they are?"

"Hold on Bill." Sean had spoken as he put his arm around Amanda and began leading her towards the reception desk. "With the police and FBI here, I don't think we should be involved in questioning these men." Turning to the FBI agents, Sean asked, "Am I right?"

"You're correct, Mr. Wallace," said one of the agents. "Our objectives right now are to get them into custody and out of this building so that you and your employees are safe. Once in custody, either at our offices or at the police facility they will be questioned properly in accordance with their constitutional rights."

Sean turned to address the complete assembly of police and FBI in the lobby, "I would prefer that only the minimum number of people necessary to take these men into custody and escort them out of the office go any further than the lobby. Since Detectives Richards and Ruiz were first on the scene," he turned to the two undercover officers, "maybe you should take the lead on the actual arrest."

"I agree," said Amanda. "Few people in the office know that anything is amiss, and I think these officers deserve to make the arrest as a reward for not shooting me."

Sean looked at her with wide eyes, but the laughter of the two detectives told him that he was not part of some inside joke. In a gesture that surprised them, the two FBI agents were asked by the detectives if they wanted to join them in the arrest. The agents agreed, so while the SWAT team relaxed along the floor to ceiling windows, Sean pressed the button to release the doors. Bill Lester held the door open for Sean and Amanda to enter, followed by the detectives and the FBI agents. Bill Lester brought up the rear, but veered off and walked towards his office while the rest continued towards Monica standing outside Sean's office.

When they reached the office door, Amanda used her key to open it. She stuck her head around the edge of the door and spoke to Moe and Nina, "The police are here to take custody of our guests. Please come out of the office so they can do their job."

Moe and Nina quickly rose from their positions and headed to join Amanda outside the office. They each handed the gun that they had taken from the Korean men to Amanda as they reached her. Amanda in turn presented the guns to Detective Richards.

"These are the weapons that they brought with them," Amanda told him. "I'm sorry that I don't know now which gun belongs to which man."

"That shouldn't present any problems," said Richards as he put one of the guns into his belt and handed the other one to his partner Ruiz who did the same. Each Detective removed handcuffs from his back pocket and entered the office to place them onto the men. Ruiz approached the man between the couch and the table while Richards took the one on the outside of the table. The two FBI agents entered the office behind them but let the Detectives make the arrest announcements and secure the prisoners. Once the Detectives had secured the men on the floor, the FBI agents split up and each helped one of the Detectives as they brought the prisoners from their positions on the floor to standing.

"I don't suppose either of you want to tell us who sent you?" asked Detective Ruiz. Both Korean men remained silent, staring straight ahead as if seeing something on a far horizon.

"Transport should be downstairs by now," Richards said. "Let's get them out of here and downstairs before we decide where we want to take them." Turning to the FBI agent helping him with his prisoner, Richards asked, "Any suggestions on where to hold them? Once we book them you know they'll lawyer-up and shut down."

The FBI agent merely placed his index finger against his lips and motioned for them to leave the office. The Detectives understood the signal to hold their conversation until the prisoners were secured in a vehicle and not be able to hear any conversations concerning their processing and subsequent questioning.

After the office was empty, Sean guided Amanda back in. They were followed by Moe, Nina and Monica who closed the door behind her. Sean led Amanda to the chair behind the desk where she sat while he took a seat on the edge of the desk. Without being told, Nina and Monica resumed their previous spots on the couch and Moe returned to the side chair in front of the desk.

"I'm very proud of all of you," Sean said as he addressed his employees. "Thank you for helping Amanda handle the situation."

Monica just nodded and smiled. Nina verbalized her response, "We didn't do much. We just babysat them once Amanda had them captured." She giggled before continuing, "The expression on their faces when they turned and saw Amanda pointing the gun at them was priceless. I would go through it all again just for a chance to witness that once more." Monica giggled at this remark and continued nodding her head.




Heavy Traffic Ch. 14



"I'm just glad Amanda had that gun in her bag," said Moe. "I always carry one in my purse, but it's locked in my desk. I hate to think of what would have happened if Amanda hadn't gotten the drop on them." Turning to Amanda she said, "I think they intended to kidnap you. Is that your impression of their intentions?"

"From what little they said, I would agree," said Amanda. Turning to Sean, she added, "It was almost as if they thought I would be here alone."

"That fits with some suspicions I've had," Sean said as he rose. "I think we should get all the employees on the tenth floor relocated to other floors for the immediate future. Moe, please work with the different department managers to get their people moved to conference rooms on the other floors, or if practical, have those who can do it, telecommute. Besides the security benefits this will provide, it will also make it more convenient to get those offices," he pointed out towards the offices that Mark and Kimberly had occupied, "demolished and the area redesigned for our future needs."

Sean's cell phone rang and he paused to answer it, "Wallace..." He listened for a few seconds and then said, "Someone will be right there to let you in." He disconnected and turned to Monica. "Monica, I assume that you being here indicates that you have agreed to be my personal assistant?"

Monica was startled by her name being mentioned and it took her a few seconds to respond, "Yes Sir."

Sean smiled, "First rule is that you call me 'Sean'. None of this 'sir' business, okay?"

Monica returned his smile and said, "Okay Sean."

"Excellent. Would you please go to the lobby and escort Amanda's security detail back here to meet her?"

"My what?" asked Amanda.

Sean glanced back at Amanda as he walked to the door and opened it for Monica to walk out. "I'll explain it to you in a few minutes. Please wait here while I deal with your previous visitors' accomplice." He exited the office without allowing Amanda a chance to argue and closed the door.

Amanda smiled and shook her head at Moe and Nina. "Well, since it appears that I have been dismissed, maybe we should all move on with other tasks."

Both women chuckled at Amanda's tolerant attitude towards the way that Sean had spoken to her. Moe then led Nina to the door, opened it and paused and addressed Amanda before exiting. "We'll get started on relocating people from the tenth floor as Sean requested. Is there anything that you want us to take care of?"

"Please give some thought to where you might find office space for Sean and me so that both of you and Monica will be close by. I don't want to inconvenience others or disrupt operations if at all possible. Maybe there's an available conference room that we all can share or something?"

"That shouldn't be a problem," said Moe. "When Tom Folsom started purging Directors and Managers loyal to Sean it made several offices available. As these same people start returning next week, we can locate them with their teams into conference rooms or similar spaces so that they are together during the transition back into the company."

"That make great sense," said Amanda. "Thanks for thinking of it Moe."

"Actually, it was Nina's idea," admitted Moe. "I tried to tell her that she should present it, but..."

Nina simply smiled as Amanda turned her gaze to her. 

"Why didn't you want to present it, Nina?" Amanda asked. "It's a wonderful suggestion."

"I did suggest it," said Nina. "I suggested it to Moe. I wanted her to know that I respect her new position and felt that making the suggestion directly to you or Sean would have circumvented her role as you described it." Taking Moe's hand into her own, she continued, "I also knew that Moe would give me credit anyway, so letting her present it seemed the best approach."

Amanda walked over and hugged both women. "I know that I am speaking for Sean as well when I say that you both make us proud. Thank you for sticking with us."

As Amanda released them, Moe and Nina left the office and closed the door behind them. It had barely closed when there was a knock and Monica stuck her head in.

"I have a Gale Bennet and Kris Acosta to see you," said Monica as she opened the door wide enough for the two women behind her to enter. Monica closed the door as she left Amanda to her new security detail.

After quickly greeting the women with handshakes, Amanda started back to her desk. "Please have a seat wherever you would like," she told them as she continued to the desk. 

After they were all seated, Amanda addressed them, "Thank you for coming on such short notice. I'm sure your presence here will be a great relief to Sean. Can you share with me what your instructions are where I am concerned?"

Each of the women probably knew at some level that certain sounds could always silence all other sounds in a room. Amanda realized for the first time how a particular sound could also suck all the air out of a room. 

The sound of the single gunshot from somewhere outside her office had not receded into the silence its appearance had created before Amanda had her own gun in her hand and was running from her office to find Sean with her startled security detail playing catch-up. She didn't need air; Sean was her breath of life and she needed to find him.

Nina and Monica had pulled chairs over to Moe's cubicle and were sitting with her sharing the same look of questioning startle that all the rest of the employees had on their faces from the unexpected sound of the gunshot. Seeing Amanda bursting from her office, Moe knew what her motivation was and simply pointed to Tom Folsom's former office.

Ignoring everything and anyone else around her, Amanda ran as fast as her legs would carry her to the closed office door across the large area shared by dozens of employees in their cubicles. Amanda paused only to turn the knob on the door before entering with her gun in position to fire if needed. Her security detail wasn't as focused since they were new to the office and swept the entire area for threats as they struggled to catch up with their protectee.

Sean was standing next to the floor--to-ceiling windows, looking casually down at Bill Lester on the floor behind the desk. Amanda's heart retreated from her throat back into its cage within her chest when she saw that Sean was alright.

"You're okay?" she gasped as her breath returned to her.

Sean simply nodded as he saw two other women push past Amanda with weapons in their hands.

"Mrs. Wallace, you can't do that," panted the older of the two women.

Amanda ignored her as she walked over to Sean and visually examined him to assuage her concerns over his condition before throwing her arms around him and hugging him as tightly as she could.

"I'm fine, really," Sean assured her as her leaned in and spoke directly into her ear. "The bullet went into the ceiling and didn't get anywhere near me, I promise. I suppose we should have someone from maintenance inspect the roof to see if there's a hole they need to patch before it rains."

"Why is there a bullet in the ceiling to begin with?" asked Amanda.

"Bill tried to shoot me and that's the best he could do," Sean replied.

"My God Sean, you can't act as if you are faster than a bullet!"

"I only need to be faster than the finger pulling the trigger," he said as he separated from her embrace and addressed the two women who had joined them in the room.

"Could you ask someone out there to call for the police and an ambulance?" he asked. Gail Bennet nodded to Kris Acosta, who quickly exited the room to fulfill Sean's request.

That's when Amanda took the time to examine Bill Lester as he sat with his back against the window, writhing in obvious pain. She knelt down and gently tore his shirt away from the right shoulder to examine him more thoroughly. She saw that the pectoral girdle on his right side was so severely damaged that it appeared to have been almost ripped from his body. He had an open fracture of his clavicle that was bleeding slightly and his scapula appeared to be separated from both the thoracic cage as well as the humerus of the right arm. Nothing life threatening, but Amanda doubted that he would ever have full use of his right arm again. Her immediate concern was that he appeared to be going into shock.

"Help me lay him down so we can place his feet onto the seat of the chair."

Sean assisted Amanda, although he was far less concerned about causing Bill Lester pain or worsening his injury than she was. He was tempted to merely use his foot to shove Bill's body into a lying position, but he resisted and took the more gentle approach that Amanda directed by holding Bill's head and left shoulder as he was lowered gently to the floor. Gail Bennet had come over to assist and had positioned the high-back desk chair so that Amanda could roll it into position and place Bill Lester's feet upon its seat. Gail then handed Amanda one of the cushions from the couch for her to place under Bill's head, but Amanda declined.

"With the injuries to his shoulder, it's best if we keep his head flat on the ground for now." Rising to a standing position again, she looked at Sean. "What happened?"

Sean was now sitting on the edge of the desk, appearing very casual in Amanda's opinion. "Bill was looking out the window, talking on his cell phone when I entered the office. He didn't notice me at first and continued his conversation."

"Who was he talking to?" Amanda asked.

"I don't know," said Sean, "But I have a pretty good idea. I think it was a gentleman named Jun Kim, who runs the Asian gangs in the Atlanta area and is one of the partners in Tri-Star."

"What makes you think it was him?" asked Amanda.

"From what I heard of his conversation before he realized I was in the room, Bill was making excuses for why the attempted abduction of you had failed..."

"Bill was in on the attempt to kidnap me?"

"I don't think it was done willingly," Sean told her. "Bill was forced to assist with getting me out of the office so that the two visitors would have a clear shot at you."

"Forced?" asked Amanda.

"Apparently, Bill and Mark Morris are lovers and have been for years. Bill admitted as much to me and said that Jun Kim is holding Mark and Kimberly captive. The young woman who was working the reception desk when we arrived was also involved because her parents were being threatened. Bill was told that he had to get me out of the office this morning or Mark would be killed. Erica was instructed to let the two men in when they arrived, and then to go home. These people rely heavily upon intimidation to force people to do their bidding. Mark was their leverage against Bill, Erica's parents were their leverage against her, Kimberly is apparently Jun Kim's leverage against DeMarcus Steele, and you were supposed to be his leverage against me."

"If Bill was telling you this, why did he then try to shoot you?"

"I assume he thought he could exchange my death for the life of Mark," Sean answered. "I only heard his side of the phone conversation so I don't know what instructions he may have been given by whoever he was speaking with."

Kris Acosta opened the office door and allowed two police officers and two paramedics to enter. "We should just open up a sub-station in the building," said one of the officers. "What do we have this time?"

Amanda led Gail and Kris back to her office to allow room for the paramedics to treat Bill Lester and for Sean to give his statement to the police. They were met at the door to her office by Moe, Monica and Nina. Without anyone speaking, Amanda opened the door and ushered the entire group into the office and closed the door behind them.

Amanda resumed her position behind the desk as Moe, Nina and Monica sat together on the couch, leaving the two chairs in front of the desk free for Gail and Kris. Amanda focused her attention on her laptop as she said, "Ladies, please introduce yourselves to each other."

After introductions, the group sat silent as they waiting for Amanda to finish typing on her laptop. Her expression was unreadable to any of the ladies so they had no indication if what she was working on would be completed shortly, if they should leave her alone, or remains sitting and waiting for her. Amanda finally noticed the silence and looked up from her work to address her audience, "I'll be just a minute. Please be patient."

Closing the laptop to signal completion of her task, Amanda said, "We'll need to keep this short. Sean and I have a conference call with the lawyers in a few minutes." Addressing her protection detail once more, Amanda asked, "Prior to our interruption, I had asked if you could share what your assignment is relative to my protection. Could you explain that now please?"

Gail Bennet replied, "At this point, our assignment is rather "fluid". We have been asked to provide protection for you whenever you are not in the company of Sean Wallace. It is our understanding that he will provide protection for you whenever you two are together."

"Do you know who or what you might be protecting me from?" asked Amanda.

"We have been told that the primary threat would be attempts to abduct you, but we are prepared for physical attacks against your person or any other potential threats that may arise," said Gail. Kris just nodded in agreement.

Amanda saw the door to the office open and Sean entering the room. She continued addressing Gail and Kris, "Your assignment has changed." Glancing up at Sean and locking her gaze to his, she continued, "Your new assignment is the protection of the three women seated on the couch."

To Sean she said, "I'll explain things to you later." Sean grinned and nodded in reply.

Returning her gaze back to Gail and Kris, Amanda said, "Please go with Moe and allow her to get you familiar with the plans for relocating the staff on this floor. If you have any suggestions related to the security of her, Nina or Monica, please let me know. Monica and Nina, could you both remain here to take notes during the conference call?"

Nina and Monica nodded their agreement while Moe rose and headed for the door. Recognizing that they were being dismissed, Gail and Kris rose and followed Moe out of the office, closing the door behind them.



Heavy Traffic Ch. 15



"Z17 is 10-41," reported Sandy Springs police patrol Sergeant Debbi Proctor. She had just pulled her marked cruiser out of the police headquarters parking lot onto Roswell Road so informing Communications of her start of shift status was department protocol. Her start of patrol was always the last for the mid-day shift since she had to give the briefing to the other officers and make certain that everyone had everything they needed before she started her supervisory patrol.

The immediate response provided her first call of the day, "Z17, Z24 respond to 10-67 at Morgan Falls Park. SSFD is in route."

Proctor responded before her backup in car Z24, "Z17, 10-4". She hit the switch to put her car in full emergency response status, illuminating every rooftop, window, grill, headlight and taillight in the sequential pattern that made the car impossible to ignore on the road, while at the same time amplifying the siren. Rush hour was well over, and she had to go south on Roswell Road for less than half a mile before turning right onto Morgan Falls Road. This road dead-ended after a mile or so at the riverside park where the report of a dead body had originated. 

As she suspected, Proctor was first to arrive on scene. While silencing her siren Proctor started examining the parking lot of the park. The parking lot only had three vehicles in it, which wasn't surprising on a mid-week morning with school still in session. Later in the day mothers would be bringing their small children to play on the swings, slides and other apparatus, but its only occupants at this time of the day were likely a few elderly people walking the paths to and from the Chattahoochee River that the park sat beside.

"Z17 is 10-23 at Morgan Falls Park. Do you have a 10-26 on SSFD?" 

Proctor was informing Communications of her arrival on scene and requesting an ETA for the fire department paramedic units also responding. She saw her backup, Z24 approaching so she pulled father into the parking lot searching for signs of the reported body, although she suspected that it was going to be found down by the river. She directed her car towards the cement path that led towards the river where she noticed a park maintenance worker already removing the chain blocking vehicle traffic. The path was designed for pedestrians but had been paved wide enough for emergency and maintenance vehicles to also drive on it.

"SSFD is five out," reported Communications.

"10-4", replied Proctor as she motioned the park worker to approach her patrol cruiser. He didn't hesitate to walk over and address the police officer.

Pointing down the path to the river, he simply said, "She's down there. Look for the white park maintenance truck. One of our crew is trying to keep people away until you got here."

"Thanks," said Proctor. "Please wait here and direct the paramedics when they arrive. Don't let anyone unauthorized through, especially the press." 

Without waiting for a response, she accelerated down the path with her back-up close behind. The path was relatively straight as it sloped slightly down to approximately twenty yards from the riverbank, where it turned to gravel. Proctor saw the park maintenance vehicle sitting thirty feet to the right of where the gravel continued down to the narrower pedestrian path that flanked the river along the entire length of the park. Turning off the path and onto the grass, Proctor and her back up drove closer to the scene. She was confident that if the park maintenance truck could make the trip, their cruisers would not get stuck.

There was one bare-chested man at the back of the truck, and another similarly undressed man huddled alongside a form at the river's edge. Upon seeing the police cruisers pull up, the kneeling man yelled something to his partner in the truck, but Proctor couldn't hear the words from inside her car. Before she could exit her vehicle, the man who had been standing at the back of the truck ran over to stand beside the police cruiser, obviously excited or agitated over something.

"She's alive!" he shouted as soon as Proctor had opened the door of her cruiser.

"Alive?" asked Proctor. "Are you sure?" She had already begun keying her shoulder mounted microphone as she simultaneously began running towards the body along the river. The man panted his words as he tried to keep up with Proctor, "Burt down there just saw her moving."

Proctor glanced over her shoulder to verify that her back-up was joining her, then relayed the new information to Communications and requested an ambulance be dispatched, "Z17 requesting 10-52 to Morgan Falls Park. Victim is reported alive."

Proctor understood why the two men were bare-chested as soon as she reached the victim. Each man had removed his work shirt and used them to cover the naked woman laying face down about three feet out of the river, along the muddy bank. The man that his partner identified as 'Burt' rose as the police officer approached, "She's definitely alive. Watch her right hand."

Kneeling down and checking the woman's carotid artery for a pulse, Proctor did feel a very faint sign of life. She then glanced at the hand as indicated by Burt and recognized what he had seen. The woman had been using her right thumb to try to write something in the mud. She apparently had very little strength left because the letters she was trying to form were barely visible in the soft mud. 

"Ice?" asked Proctor.

Burt nodded and said, "That's what it looked like to me, so I assumed she was cold. Pete and I placed our shirts over her trying to warm her up, but she keeps trying to write the same letters."

Proctor's back-up was Officer Mike Greer. He knelt down beside Proctor and reported, "Paramedics just pulled into the park and should be here in a minute. I'm going to start setting up a perimeter unless you need me for anything else."

"Get us some additional units to handle the perimeter", Proctor replied. "You should talk to the park staff to see who found her and when."

"Got it", said Greer as he rose and directed Burt to follow him back to the police cruisers.

Proctor moved the woman's dark hair off her neck and pushed a gold chain aside so that she could maintain better contact to monitor the weak pulse that was still present. Exposing the right side of the woman's face when the hair was moved, Proctor saw the first signs of the trauma that this woman had experienced. Even with the swollen, bruised and batter face, Proctor could tell that this was a once beautiful woman.

Two Paramedics ran over to the woman as soon as their truck had stopped. They carried their emergency kits and a spinal board. Proctor reluctantly stood aside to let the trained medics examine the woman and prepare her for transport.

One of the paramedics removed the work shirt from the woman's upper torso to allow access for their examination and handed it to Proctor. Gently probing around the woman's neck to confirm there was no injury that would impede her being rolled over. The examination continued farther down her spine, until the point where the second work shirt had to be pushed aside. Both paramedics gasped when they saw the damage to the woman's internal organs evident by the section of rectum protruding from her anus. 

Gently spreading her legs, the paramedic commented to his partner; "Appears to be a penetrating trauma." Shining his flashlight between the woman's legs, he saw the blood trickling out and continued, "Her pubic hair is singed..." Spreading the labia with his gloved fingers he saw what appeared to be powder burns. "Looks like we have a vaginal gunshot entry wound, but no exit wound. Let's get her BP and start a Lactated Ringers IV. We better start pushing some plasma into her as well. There's bound to be some serious internal bleeding."

Keying his own shoulder mounted microphone the paramedic who had discovered the injuries said "Unit 3 requesting Lifeflight dispatch to Morgan Falls Park." The response from the fire department dispatch center provided an ETA of ten minutes for the requested helicopter. Turning to his partner who had finished examining the woman's neck and spine he asked, "Ready to roll her?"

Moving around so that he was in the proper position to roll the upper torso onto the spinal board while his partner rolled the lower part of the body, he replied, "Ready."

Proctor observed the activity and noted that the woman's right thumb continued to move slightly as if she was still trying to write something in the mud, but her eyes remained closed and no sounds emanated from her lips as she was rolled to lay face-up. Proctor was bothered by the exposure of her body that this position presented and questioned whether the continued examination by the paramedics required it. "Don't you have a blanket to cover her some?"

The paramedic who had rolled her lower body nodded and replied, "I was just going to get one." He handed the second work shirt to Proctor as he rose and headed to his ambulance to retrieve a blanket.

Proctor returned her attention to the first paramedic and watched him checking the woman's blood pressure and starting the IV's. He opened each eyelid and to test the pupils for reaction to the light he was shining in them. "Unresponsive left, slow response on the right," he reported to his partner who was currently placing a blanket over the woman's body and strapping her to the spinal board. He lifted something beside the woman's neck that was attached to the gold chain and placed it on top of the blanket.

Proctor's attention fell upon the small gold pendant now visible on the woman's chest and knelt down to examine it more closely. "Dear God!" she exclaimed as the significance of the object became clear to her. Standing quickly and locating Greer near the maintenance truck. "Greer, get over here!" she yelled.

Greer almost pulled his weapon as he quickly ran back to Proctor's location, but seeing her with her own weapon still holstered restrained him. "What is it?" he asked panting.

"Look!" Proctor said as she pointed to the woman on the ground. The paramedics had paused their activities to watch the excited police officer.

Greer looked down, but the expression on his face made it clear to Proctor that he was missing the item that she had noticed. She reached inside the collar of her shirt and pulled out her own similar pendant and said, "She is wearing one of these!"

Greer leaned close to Proctor to see the pendant and then glanced back at the woman. "A badge pendant?" he said as he knelt down to look at it more closely.

"Exactly!" said Proctor as she slid her own pendant back under her shirt. "But not just any badge. Read the engraved agency name."

Greer did as instructed. The engraved words were so small they were barely visible, "Immigration and Customs Enforcement?"

"Not 'ice'", said Proctor, pointing to the faint letters in the mud. "She was writing 'I-C-E'."

Using her cell phone instead of the radio to prevent the press or others who routinely monitored police communications from hearing, Proctor called Communications. "Z17 requesting CSI and detectives to Morgan Falls Park. Victim is possible Federal officer. Medivac is in route. Any available units are requested to secure scene."

"10-4. Z17 Stand by."

"Z17 10-4", Proctor replied as the sound of an approaching helicopter grew louder.

***

Sean's stupefaction was gratifying, in that it confirmed his decision to entrust Amanda with the lead during their conference call. They had already discussed their mutual strategies for how they wanted the transition of their two separate enterprises to be merged, so he knew there would be no surprises presented by her that he would need to consider a response to. 

Amanda hadn't needed his support with his own lawyers, but he had provided it in the form of affirmation for every direction that she provided them. Where her own lawyers were concerned, Amanda had likewise informed them of Sean's equal status to her own and they had accepted this edict warmly and willingly.

The business update that Jerome Thorndike had provided on Wallace Holdings also provided Sean with confirmation of his sense that Amanda didn't need to trust people. As she had been demonstrating to him since they had met, Amanda had an innate ability to know a person's heart. When she shared responsibility with a person or assigned them a responsibility of their own, it was with the knowledge that they were suitable for the task and were incorruptible in their loyalty to her. 

Wallace Holdings had not only survived in her absence, it had thrived – with Amanda Wallace still being held in the highest regard by every employee of the company as their leader. True, virtually every person at Wallace Holdings had been hired and placed either by her parents when they ran the operation, or by her brother who had assumed responsibility for the management of the enterprise while Amanda was in school, but their loyalty to Amanda was evident none the less. 

Sean had believed that he held a similar degree of loyalty from his key personnel, and still felt that were it not for the treacherous actions of Tom Folsom, his own organization would have thrived without his daily direction and involvement. Witnessing Amanda's leadership and the loyalty she engendered in people, he was confident that they were going to be able to put together a great team. Amanda's selection of Nina and Monica as their personal assistants further illustrated this.

Sean's attention was drawn away from Amanda giving instructions to Nina and Monica when there was a knock on the office door. "I'll get it," he said as he headed to answer the knock.

Kris Acosta stood at the door with her cell phone against her ear. She lowered it as she addressed Sean, "My father would like to speak with you."

"Your father wants to speak with me?" asked Sean with obvious confusion in his expression and voice.

"Yes sir," Kris said as she handed the phone to Sean. Somewhat reluctantly, he took the phone from her and placed it against his ear.

"Hello?" Sean said.

"Mr. Wallace, this is Rick Acosta. I work with your Uncle..."

Sean recognized the name from the report that his uncle had given him and Amanda earlier about what had happened at the cabins, but hadn't associated it with Kris Acosta having the same last name. "He has mentioned you," Sean replied.

"I haven't been able to contact your Uncle and he said that I should provide any updates to you if he was unavailable."

"He is driving back to D.C. and is probably in some dead cellular zones from time to time. What can I do for you Mr. Acosta?"

"I have an update on Special Agent Anderson..."

Sean stood rigid in the doorway to the office as he listened to Rick Acosta detail the condition of Mickey, where she was found, and her prognosis for survival. Kris Acosta saw the change in Sean's expression and literally jumped back from him in fear for what she saw in his eyes. Amanda couldn't see Sean's face, but she knew immediately from his change in posture that something in this telephone conversation had brought out the feral warrior that she had witnessed in him previously.

"Where are you now?" Sean asked when the report was complete.

Amanda didn't hear the response, but did hear Sean's reply to it, "How long will it take you to get there?" Amanda didn't hear anything further from Sean as he handed the phone back to Kris and turned to address Monica. The rage within him couldn't have been more obvious, but he was perfectly calm as he spoke.

"Monica, please get in touch with Jeannie Sexton and tell her that I want to be wheels up for Atlanta in forty-five minutes." Turning back around to face Kris Acosta, he said "I would like a word with you and your partner, please come into the office for a minute."

"Sean, what happened?" Amanda asked as she came around the desk and approached him. Sean was stepping inside the office doorway to allow Kris and Gail room to enter. He held up a hand signaling Amanda to stop her approach. Once they were inside, he closed the door. 

"Amanda, please get packed up so we can leave. I'll explain things on the way."

Without questioning his request, Amanda immediately began packing her computer and other items into her messenger bag while listening to Sean's instructions to her former security detail.

"I don't care if you have to park a tank in front of the building," Sean told Gail Bennett, "No unauthorized person gets in here. Understood?"

"Yes sir," Gail responded.

"What do you need to insure that Nina, Monica and Moe are protected twenty-four hours a day?"

"I'll need to assess their residences, routes to and from the office and the nature of any potential threats to give you an accurate resource requirement..." Gail began.

"Tell you what," interrupted Sean, "Plan on the same resources that you would require for the First Family and get them in place by the end of business today. I do not want any of these ladies leaving this building until their security is iron clad. Can you make that happen or do I need to find someone else?"

"It will be tight," said Gail, "but I can arrange everything."

Sean simply nodded at Gail before taking Amanda's hand and leading her to the door.

"Call me when the arrangements are in place." To Monica he said, "I'll be in touch once we get to Atlanta. You know how to reach me if anything comes up that requires either mine or Amanda's attention."

***

Jun Kim was known by his associates and enemies for having no patience and for having no value for human life beyond how it benefited him or his organization. He contemplated the future of the man and woman secured in the basement of this house.

Mark Morris' life held value as leverage against Bill Lester. Now that this was no longer an option, Kim gave instructions to his underlings, "Get rid of the man. Make certain that his body nor any part of him is ever seen again. You know what to do at their home to make it look as if they left on a trip they had been planning."

"You want them both to appear to have left?" asked one of his gang.

The blonde beauty had no immediate value where Tri-Star Partners or his Atlanta organization was concerned, but Kim knew how to exploit her long-term value very effectively. Kim nodded and said, "Get her ready for transport. I will let Kimmie Park know to expect her by the middle of next week. She will arrange shipment to Busan."

Transporting someone to Kimmie Park in Vancouver, British Columbia and then on to South Korea was a reversal of their normal route. Most of their shipments were from South Korea to Atlanta through the Canadian city, but the same procedures should work adequately in reverse. 

Kimberley Morris held great value as a blonde American woman. As far as Jun Kim was concerned, she was destined to live her remaining days servicing primarily his Japanese customers at a high-end whorehouse in the Korean port city of Busan. That would eliminate her as a risk for Tri-Star Partners, and send a clear message to DeMarcus Steele that Jun Kim was not pleased with how Steele had handled the situation with Wallace Enterprises.

Jun Kim knew that Stephan Mota was also angry with Steele and would likely be demonstrating his displeasure soon. Kim considered how he might use this riff between the leaders of Tri-Star Partners to his advantage.

***

"Whatever was inserted in her was done so with enough force to penetrate every organ in its path, all the way to the coronary ligament, which appears to have been the only thing to stop it from also penetrating her heart..."

"That means the large intestines, small intestines, stomach, pancreas, and liver were all punctured?" asked Amanda.

"The bladder also has a tear in it," confirmed the Doctor. It had taken a call from the Deputy Director of Homeland Security to the Chief of Medicine at Grady Medical Center before the physician in charge of Mickey's care would discuss her condition with Sean and Amanda.




Heavy Traffic Ch. 15



"However, the penetrations don't appear to have occurred all at once. Based upon the recurring instances of burnt tissue along the path of the penetration, there is evidence that whatever was used was repeatedly heated before the next insertion. These injuries are minor however to those resulting from the bullet that entered her vagina and travelled through her uterus, bladder, left kidney and left lung. Each of those organs was damaged beyond repair."

"She doesn't stand a chance, does she?" asked Amanda. The calm in her voice belied the grief she had been experiencing since Sean had shared with her how Mickey had been found and how dire her condition was. They had come directly to the hospital after landing and had spent over an hour trying to get someone to update them on Mickey's condition.

"She is obviously a fighter," replied the Doctor, "But there just simply aren't enough of her functioning organs remaining to sustain life for much longer."

"Has she regained consciousness?" asked Sean.

Rick Acosta shook his head in reply before the Doctor could provide additional details, "She is heavily medicated but not technically on life support due to the DNR she had in her personnel file. While there are no signs of brain damage, it is unlikely that she will regain consciousness. Any conscious periods that do occur will be very brief."

Amanda addressed Rick Acosta with her next question, "Has her family been notified?"

"Her parents are both deceased. She has a brother who is in the Navy and currently stationed in San Diego. He is expected to arrive in Atlanta within a few hours."

"I hope he's in time," said Amanda. "Can we see her?"

The Doctor considered the request for a few seconds before answering Amanda, "Policy is that only immediate family can visit a patient in the ICU, but since I have been told that you are a registered nurse, I will extend a professional courtesy and allow you to sit with her until her brother arrives."

"Thank you," said Amanda. 

"Can we wait here or will you need this room for other consultations?" Sean asked. They had been occupying a small room outside the intensive care unit designed for private consultations between doctors and the family of patients in the unit.

"You're more than welcome to wait here," said the Doctor as he rose from his chair and opened the door for Amanda. As she stood, Sean and Rick Acosta also came to their feet. Sean gave Amanda a quick kiss as she passed him on her way out of the room behind the Doctor.

After the door had closed, Rick Acosta returned to his seat and waited for Sean to sit before speaking, "I didn't want to mention this in front of the Doctor, but Mickey did regain consciousness for a period of time during her transport here. The police officer on the helicopter with her noted that Mickey kept trying to communicate something, but had a lot of difficulty speaking."

"Did the officer understand what Mickey was trying to communicate?" asked Sean.

"She could only understand the words 'miner' and 'rhino'. Do they hold any significance for you?"

"Not to me. You?"

Acosta shook his head, "Nope, but I have someone running the names through every database available to try and identify something relevant to this case. It's a long shot, but it's the best we have unless Mickey is able to tell us more at some point."

"Anything new on who took her, killed Glen Parker and burned the cabins?" asked Sean.

"Nothing solid yet," replied Acosta. The tire tracks, bullet casings, and other evidence available are still being analyzed. Every informant in the area, regardless of the law enforcement agency who controls them, is being sought for any rumors or knowledge of who might have been involved. Someone will talk eventually."

***

Amanda would cry for Mickey later. At this time, she knew that she should remain as professional and detached from Mickey as the other nurses who scurried in and out of the room providing constant care and monitoring of Mickey's condition.

Beds in the ICU were surrounded with equipment for monitoring vital signs and sustaining life, so Amanda wasn't surprised to see that there wasn't a visitor's chair in the room. She found a position on the far side of Mickey's bed that would allow her to take one of Mickey's hands in hers, while remaining out of the way of the other nurses as much as possible.

The descriptions provided of Mickey's condition, first by Rick Acosta and then subsequently by the Doctor didn't come close to depicting the tortured woman Amanda gazed down upon. While most of her body was covered with a sheet, Amanda could clearly see the damage to Mickey's face, mouth, arms, and hands. It was not only quite obvious that Mickey had lost most of her teeth, and there were tell-tale signs that lit cigarettes had been pushed into her skin all along her arms, neck, and face. Amanda shuddered to think about what the rest of Mickey's body looked like.

Standing beside Mickey's bed and taking her right hand into her own, Amanda considered her feelings towards the woman lying so near to death before her. Amanda believed that Mickey and she could have become friends, though the closeness of their friendship would be predicated on Mickey's respect and acceptance of Amanda and Sean's love for each other, which the two women never really had the opportunity to discuss. She wanted to believe that Mickey would have acquiesced, and this faith warmed her affection for Mickey more than her sympathy for her current condition did.

Squeezing Mickey's hand, Amanda spoke softly, "Keep fighting Mickey. Sean and I will be here for you. Don't give up."

Over the past several weeks since she and the girls had been captured, Amanda had spent countless hours contemplating why some people had such a lack of regard for the lives of others. She had pondered why the old man who had been driving their bus was killed by the traders, even though he had offered them no resistance and presented no threat whatsoever. What possible benefit could the old man's death bring to the traders?

Amanda had not had much time to dwell on the death of the bus driver, because the threat to her own life was implied soon after the traders had brought them all to the holding location in Dili. She realized that financial benefit was significantly more important to these men than human life. While they never allowed Amanda to fully explain that someone would pay a ransom for the return of her and the girls, she did see the visual assessment that the leader of the traders made when he looked at her. Although the leader and probably most of his men could have used Amanda for their own pleasure, the promise of financial return for their restraint governed their decisions and subsequent actions.

From the time that she and the girls had been captured, human greed had been on the forefront of Amanda's thoughts. She felt no guilt over her own wealth, because she knew that her parents had earned their fortune fairly, through hard work and well-honed business skills. The charitable and benevolent ethos that her parents had instilled in she and her brother was what placed her at the orphanage to begin with. Now, with Sean by her side, they would continue to wisely and judiciously distribute portions of their wealth for the benefit of others.

Amanda's thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of pressure against the hand that was holding Mickey's. Glancing from the hand to Mickey's face, Amanda saw open, unfocused eyes.

"Mickey, squeeze my hand if you hear me," urged Amanda. After a brief pause, she felt a definite squeezing pressure in response.

Once more glancing from the joined hands to Mickey's face, Amanda saw her lips moving in an attempt to speak. Picking up a sponge swab in a glass of ice water next to the bed, Amanda gently rubbed the cool, water soaked sponge tip along Mickey's lips. Mickey brought her lips together in response to the cooling relief of the water, but soon started moving them again. Amanda leaned down to try and hear what Mickey was attempting to say.

"id el em gir," was all that Amanda could interpret from the whispered words Mickey was trying to form.

"Relax Mickey, everything is going to be okay," said Amanda in the most reassuring voice she could muster.

"I idn el em gir", stressed Mickey. Amanda saw from the change in monitor signs that Mickey was getting agitated trying to communicate the meaning of her message. Soon other nurses would be responding to the monitors. She had to try and calm Mickey down.

"Mickey, everything is alright. You are safe, Sean is safe, I am safe, the girls are safe...." 

Suddenly, Amanda had an epiphany about what Mickey had been trying to say. "You didn't tell anyone where the girls were did you?

Mickey's eyes became more focused as she turned them to look directly into Amanda's "I idn el em girs."

Amanda gazed down at the tortured and broken body of a woman who was in this condition solely because she refused to divulge the location of twenty five young girls who she didn't even know. The courage of this woman amazed Amanda, since she doubted that she would have been able to endure the degree of torture that Mickey obviously had.

The tears streaming from Amanda's eyes prevented her from seeing the various monitors, but vision was not required to comprehend the meaning behind the multiple alarms that began sounding from them. Recognizing what was about to unfold, Amanda release Mickey's lifeless hand and moved to position herself away from the bed, closer to the door where her presence would not impede the actions of the medical professionals already streaming into the room.

As the first physician joined the nurse already surrounding Mickey's bed, Amanda heard, "There is a DNR on file, correct?"

"Yes Doctor," was the reply from one of the nurses, all of whom were busy verifying that none of the monitor connections to Mickey's body had come loose to cause the alarms.

The Doctor used his stethoscope against Mickey's chest to make the definitive call, "Time of death, 17:10." The nurses backed away from the bed, and Amanda exited the room to return to where Sean and Rick Acosta waited. 

The tears streaming down Amanda's face told Sean and Acosta even more than her limited time with Mickey did. Sean folded Amanda into his arms before the door to the room had closed, and buried his face in her hair as she continued to mourn the death of Mickey, along with grieving over the greed and inhumanity which she knew had caused the death of this woman.

After several minutes, Amanda was able to speak coherently. She pulled back from Sean, and making certain that she had the attention of him and Rick Acosta she asked, "You know why they tortured her, don't you?"

"They obviously wanted information that they believed her to have," replied Acosta.

"What they wanted was the location of the girls," Sean added.

Amanda nodded and began crying anew as she said. "She didn't tell them. Mickey endured hours of the most unspeakable torture and never told them what they wanted to know."

"How can you be certain," asked Acosta.

Amanda's whispered reply, with her face tight against Sean's chest was heard only by him. He conveyed it to Acosta. "She told Amanda."

"Did she say anything more?" asked Acosta. "Like who did this to her?"

Amanda steeled herself once more and pulled back from Sean before answering, "All she said before she died was that she didn't tell them. She was difficult to understand, but her message was crystal clear. Mickey protected the girls to the end. I think she knew that these animals would kill her regardless..."

"To call these people 'animals' is an insult to all animals on this planet. No animal would purposely subject another to that type of torture," said Sean.

Rick Acosta's cell phone vibrated in his pocket. Turning away from Sean and Amanda, he answered it. Sean continued to hold and comfort Amanda until Acosta finished his call.

"Mickey's brother just arrived downstairs. I should go meet him and deliver the news," Acosta told them.

"Fine," said Sean. "Amanda and I will be leaving for Prestonwood, but I would appreciate you keeping me apprised of any new information you turn up on the names Mickey spoke on her way to the hospital."

Amanda looked at Sean questioningly, but resisted the urge to ask about what Mickey had said. She didn't want a discussion that could wait to delay their departure.

"Kirby has made it clear that you are to be kept informed on all intelligence we obtain," said Acosta. "When I know, you'll know."

"Thanks," said Sean. "I'll be speaking to my uncle in a few minutes and I'll make sure he knows how cooperative you are being."

Sean and Amanda walked silently through the hospital, holding hands and both maintaining a vigilant awareness of those around them. Amanda had reluctantly left Sean's gun in the car while they were in the hospital, and while she didn't feel threatened without it, she knew that she would take possession of it before she left the car again.

Sean opened the passenger side door for Amanda, but she didn't immediately take her seat. Instead, she embraced Sean with all her might and allowed him to use her body for the same comfort she was seeking from his. After several minutes of this silent, physical connection, Amanda assumed her position in the car and Sean closed her door. No words were spoken until they had passed the parking attendant booth and exited the hospital parking lot.

"Retribution can serve justice, Sean." Amanda seemed to be reading Sean's thoughts. 

Just as with the pirates who had killed his parents and the film crew at Glen Parker's cabin, Sean knew that he couldn't allow the people who had tortured Mickey, subjecting her to the injuries that eventually killed her, to ever be able treat another person with such brutality. Deterring future atrocities did not fit any definition of "justice" that Sean knew of. He further believed that retribution for the actions of men was God's right alone, although God could employ righteous men to deliver his wrath if he chose to.

Where the people responsible for the torture and death of Mickey were concerned, Sean did not feel any divine "calling". He felt a responsibility to protect. To protect Amanda, protect the girls, protect his employees, and to protect the rest of humanity from the creature, or creatures that could do such things to another person.

"I know you're anxious to get back to Prestonwood and the girls, but I think we should make a quick stop at my house in Johns Creek first." Amanda simply squeezed Sean's hand several times in affirmative agreement as he explained his developing plans to her while they drove. By the time they reached their first destination, Amanda's grief was being eroded by a new and exciting sense of purpose. God, how she loved Sean Wallace!

***

Stephan Mota lived a life much less pretentious than DeMarcus Steele. He didn't need a display of material possessions and wealth to garner respect; He relied upon people respecting his business accomplishments - both legitimate and illegitimate, and if that didn't suffice, Stephan Mota was quick to use intimidation and fear to gain respect. A man's family could be his greatest treasure, but that also made it his point of greatest vulnerability.

Watching DeMarcus Steele entering the restaurant on one of the surveillance cameras in his office, Mota knew that intimidation and fear were not what made this man respect him. First of all, Steele had no close family that anyone knew about. Secondly, Steele's proud reliance upon intimidation to achieve his own perception of respect vanquished anyone else's ability to intimidate him. No, Steele respected him because Mota continued to demonstrate that he had intelligence resources that provided him with information that Steele and Kim could never match.

Mota didn't move up the ranks of some Hispanic gang to eventually assume control. He didn't have to kill off a rival to take the leadership position. Mota had merely stepped into a void created by the actions of others, and had never been challenged. 

Rising from his desk and walking towards the door to his office, Mota reached it just as he heard a knock. One of his bodyguards stood outside the door between him and DeMarcus Steele, but he said nothing when the door was opened. Mota simply nodded to the bodyguard and he moved aside to allow Steele to enter the office. Mota silently gestured Steele to the large round dining table across the room that already had two glasses and a pitcher of Margaritas placed on it. Mota closed the door and followed his guest to the table.

DeMarcus surveyed the room as he turned to sit at the table, facing the door with his back to a wall. The two men were alone in the room, which DeMarcus always thought resembled some sort of master control room rather than an office befitting the leader of the largest Hispanic organized crime operation in the Southeast. In addition to the bank of video displays showing images from locations all over the metropolitan area that Mota liked to monitor, there were numerous computer displays, all currently with screen savers running to hide the information they may be showing.

Barely waiting for Mota to take his own seat at the table, DeMarcus began the meeting, "You said you had some information for me?"

Appearing to ignore the question from his guest, Mota poured Margaritas into both of the salt-rimmed glasses and slid one across the table to Steele. Raising his glass in silent salute, Mota took a drink and set the glass down on the table. DeMarcus took a sip of his own drink as he awaited a reply to his question.

"Yes, Mr. Steele I do have information for you, along with a little advice."

"Information I'll take. Advice I don't need."

"Unfortunately," said Mota, "You will not get one without the other. Please, enjoy your drink while we chat."

As stubbornly as a petulant child, DeMarcus defied the request and left his drink untouched as he stared back at Mota.

With a sigh of patience, Mota took another sip of his own drink and began, "Someone has stirred up a fire storm with the Feds recently, more specifically with the Immigration and Customs Enforcement agency in this area. My sources within the agency tell me that it began with a large human trafficking investigation in Southwest Georgia, expanded to the Atlanta area later the same day, and has now gone nuclear with the abduction of one of their own agents."

DeMarcus' expression revealed nothing as Mota continued, "Now, you know that many of my people maintain a very tenuous position where Immigration is concerned, and most rely upon me for support and assistance when their status in this country comes under investigation. Having the agency that I have to deal with on a daily basis in my business so, how do I say this... 'Distracted', presents me with several challenges. First, enforcement agents who would normally be more tolerant when interpreting the status of someone in this country illegally, will suddenly become very 'by the book'. This can result in parents with questionable legal status in this country being detained or deported, leaving their children as a burden for other family members or friends."

Stephan Mota actually had a law degree, and had been practicing immigration law for more than a decade before assuming leadership of all Hispanic organized crime in the greater Atlanta area. His popularity among immigrants, both legal and illegal, made him a champion for them in the community and helped disguise his abuse of these same people through extortion, drug smuggling, prostitution, and several other manipulations of their inability to report his actions to the authorities, including selling his own people into slavery and servitude when opportunities presented themselves.




Heavy Traffic Ch. 15



"What the fuck should I care about some Wetbacks getting hassled by..."

"Secondly," continued Mota, "All other areas of investigation that this agency is responsible for, such as human trafficking and customs enforcement also receive increased scrutiny, making major portions of mine and Jun Kim's operations considerably more vulnerable, so to speak. From what I understand, you have recently ventured into new areas of business that will also be affected by the increased scrutiny. If my information is correct, it is actually your new ventures that have created the escalated level of activity involving the Feds."

Prepared for this, DeMarcus was not totally surprised by Mota knowing about his attempt to break into a variant of the human trafficking business that Mota and Kim had been involved in for more than a decade. Mota had always demonstrated an ability to have information on matters that DeMarcus had considered secret, or at least well hidden from casual discovery.

"I have everything under control," said DeMarcus.

"You don't even have your shipment under control," replied Mota. "The young girls from East Timor were taken from you before even reaching Atlanta, and you have no idea where they are."

"I know who has 'em, and it is only a matter of time til I get them back."

"Are you referring to Sean Wallace?" asked Mota. 

"If he ain't got them, he knows where they are. When I get my hands on that pussy, I'll find the girls."

"You really don't know who you are dealing with, do you?"

"I'm tired of people asking me that," said Steele in exasperation. "Sean Wallace is some white, Mama's boy pussy who runs away from problems and don't stand up to anyone..."

"You are a fool, DeMarcus."

Steele was barely able to contain his anger, but he replied with every bit of calm he could muster, "Then please enlighten me, Steve."

Mota considered for a moment just how benevolent he wanted to be with this punk. Finally he said, "What Sean Wallace can't do on his own, which I assure you is considerable, he can pay any number of highly trained professionals to do it for him..."

"Accountants and lawyers," interrupted Steele. "Shit, I eat those mother fuckers for breakfast and still have room for a cheese omelet."

Mota's patience was running thin, but he held it for his next reply, "Do you know what Sean Wallace did in the Marine Corps?" he asked Steele.

"He was like a teacher or trainer. Something like that," replied DeMarcus.

"He was fucking Force Recon," snarled Mota. "The only training he did was teaching other Marines to kill as effectively and efficiently as he could, which is as good or better than any Special Forces in the world. You have several of your toughest men in a hospital right now only because they encountered Sean Wallace in a good mood. Neither they nor you seem to know how lucky they are to be alive."

"I've dealt with these fucking Kung Fu, Ninja assholes in the past," said DeMarcus, but his response held less bluster than he had hoped to convey. This information on Sean Wallace was a revelation to him. He hid this fact when he replied, "A nine millimeter to the head kill them just as dead as the next honky."

"This isn't working," conceded Mota to himself. "Maybe the next leader of these idiots will have more sense. I might as well cut this short," he thought. 

"Fine DeMarcus, but I wanted to advise you of your opponent's capabilities before informing you of where the shipment of girls is being hidden."

"I appreciate your concern, Steve. You just tell me what you know about where the girls are, then stand back and watch me deal with Sean Wallace. I'm also not forgetting a promise I made to myself where Mrs. Wallace is concerned."

"I assume you are referring to Amanda Wallace," said Mota, now relishing the situation that he knew Steele was heading into.

"She be the one," confirmed Steele.

"And what do you know about her," asked Mota, although he knew the answer in advance.

"I know that she is some rich bitch from Australia who doesn't know her place here or how to show respect to a real man."

"I see," said Mota. "Well in all likelihood, she will be exactly as you expect."

"I expect to make her my Bitch and make her husband watch me do it," replied Steele.

Mota ignored this and said, "Before I inform you about your shipment's location, let's discuss the situation with Tri-Star..."

Steele was expecting this topic to come up, and he knew that his responses to Mota's questions would not be well accepted. He remained silent and waited for Mota to continue.



Heavy Traffic Ch. 16



Elliott Greer had arrived early Sunday morning, which due to the time difference between Sydney and Atlanta placed his arrival only four hours later than his departure time - on the same day of the week. Jet-lag may catch up with him eventually, but being able to sleep on the flight greatly reduce the effects and also allowed him to get to work as soon as Samuel Baldwin had presented him with the Smartphone that Amanda had provided. Before exiting the Atlanta airport, Elliott had confirmed his arrival with Amanda and received further updates to his assignment.

Even though Elliott had been friends with Amanda's brother Michael since college, he had only actually met Amanda in person twice. The first time was at the funeral of her and Michael's parents, and the second time had been at Michael's funeral. This lack of face-to-face time had done nothing to lessen Elliott's devotion to Amanda Wallace. Through Michael's description of his sister, her well known accomplishments, photos and videos that he had been shown, and hundreds of telephone and e-mail communications since Michael's death, Elliott considered Amanda like his own kid sister and was thoroughly committed to her. The fact that she had recognized his loyalty and devotion with increased responsibility and authority within Wallace Holdings proved to him that she was just as bound to him as he was to her. Her calling on him now for his assistance, and his immediate agreement to her requests was as natural for them both as if they had actually been siblings.

Samuel Baldwin was well known to the guards blocking the entrance drive to Prestonwood, but his passenger was not. Elliott had been warned of what to expect, so he did not object to his luggage being searched. His passport was scanned and inspected more thoroughly than Customs and Immigration had done at the airport upon his arrival. After a full body pat-down was conducted he was allowed to re-enter the car and proceed to the conference building that had been designated for his use.

Samuel insisted on taking Elliott's luggage to his assigned living quarters so that Elliott could proceed directly to the conference room where the team assembled to assist him was already waiting. Chatter quickly dissipated as Elliott walked into the conference room, and those who were not already seated quickly found places to settle while Elliott strode to the head of the conference table to address them.

Elliott Greer did not have an imposing presence. In fact, his appearance and demeanor worked in an exact opposite manner with people; calming them and providing a confidence in him and his leadership before he even spoke. When most people tried to describe his appearance, they generally neglected his physical attributes and mentioned how he made them feel motivated and driven - and his killer smile.

Elliott smiled at the group now as he stood before them, "G'day everyone. I'm Elliott Greer, Director of Acquisitions and Investments with Wallace Holdings. I'm told that we're all going to have some fun with a group of Bush Devils, and I get to lead this party. So, let's get things started..."

The twenty five paralegals around the table began taking notes as Elliott Greer explained the plan and their individual assignments. This group had been assembled from a list compiled by Bryce Pierre and Ben Evans at Sean's request. Jeannie Sexton had made five flights Saturday as well as two Sunday morning to get the recruits from Nashville to Prestonwood prior to Elliott's arrival. The group was a diverse mix of men and women, mostly in their thirties who all had at least seven years of experience as a paralegal with a respected law firm in the Nashville area.

"...but the key to success will be each of you," continued Elliott's explanation. "People have come to believe that 'If it's too good to be true, it probably is,' right? Your primary challenge will be convincing each assigned principal that a professional 'Savior' really has arrived at their doorstep. Decisions on each offer must be made within three days, which means that the principal's confidence in the validity of the offer must be established from the outset by their acceptance of your credentials and authority to make the offer. Your law firms have all provided documentation for you that certify your right to represent Wallace Holdings, and you will be able to provide your principals with multiple independent sources, both in the government and the private sector that would confirm everything in the offer as presented to them is legitimate. That covers things for now. Your dinner will be served in here shortly. Please enjoy it and the rest of your evening. We'll reconvene here for breakfast at 7AM and get started." 

***

Amanda felt Sean stirring beside her and slowly rolled over to lie on top of him. His lips met hers just as a moan escaped them.

"Good morning Mr. Wallace. I thought I might have to take advantage of you in your sleep, but now that you're awake..."

Sean was pleased with Amanda's affectionate interests, and not simply because his body craved hers. Neither of them had been in much of an amorous mood since Friday morning, so the desire evident within Amanda signified that her mood was continuing to lighten.

They spent Friday night at Prestonwood where they were updated by Grandma Beth during dinner and Amanda could see for herself how the girls were adapting to their new home while Sean could verify that the security for the facility was more than adequate. They had left Saturday morning to return to Tennessee.

Rather than flying this time, Sean convinced Amanda to drive his car. He explained that her first experience driving on the left side of a car would be easier on an interstate highway since she would only need to change lanes occasionally. Amanda adjusted quickly, with her only challenge along the way being a tendency to activate the windshield wipers when she intended to select the turn signal for lane changes. Sean sympathized with this because he had experienced the same challenge when driving cars in Australia and England. He directed her to less travelled country roads once they exited the freeway so that she could become accustomed to making turns into the proper lanes with less likelihood of encountering other cars. Amanda had to pause a few times to remember to choose the inside lane on right turns and the far lane on left turns, but she pulled into the drive at their Tennessee house in the early afternoon on Saturday, confident that she would be able to drive on American roads as long as she avoided any distractions for awhile.

Shortly after arriving to the house, she had positioned herself in their home office to start making the contacts that she and Sean had discussed. Sean had initiated many of these during their drive, so her focus was on her personal contacts and others familiar with who she was. Sean had taken Merlin out into the woods along the river where he could explore nature as Sean went through his exercise routines. By dusk, Sean had showered, joined Amanda and began delegating tasks to Monica over the phone as Amanda did the same with Nina. After a quick dinner, Sean and Amanda returned to their separate computers in the office, interrupting their research and e-mails only long enough to answer the occasional call on their respective cell phones.

They had both wanted to be at Wallace Enterprises early Sunday morning, but neither wanted to forgo attending church service with Grandma Carol. Choosing the earliest morning service at 10 am, and then sending Carol back to the house with one of the security detail allowed them to arrive in the parking garage before noon.

Sean was pleased with the heightened security that was clearly visible outside and inside the building, even on a Sunday. No vehicles were allowed into the parking structure until they were searched, and 'man-trap' doors had been installed at all building entrances. These doors made it impossible for a person to 'piggy-back' another person's entry into the building, requiring each body to enter separately and only after their badge had been accepted as valid by the electronic readers. Metal detectors were positioned prior to all elevators and armed guards were positioned to search all bags, purses or packages being brought into the building. The new nine millimeter Glock automatic pistol in Amanda's messenger bag drew the attention of both the metal detectors and the guard at the parking garage elevator, and he diligently verified the identity of both Amanda and Sean before acknowledging that they were who they claimed and allowed her to carry the weapon into the building.

Brian Hibbert had already arrived and was busy directing the delivery and installation of computer and network equipment to the conference rooms on floors six, seven, and eight. Personnel from Brandt Consulting were logging onto the computers as soon as they were connected. 

Floor six's conference room had been designated by Moe for "criminal research" and the personnel there would be scouring public and private records for any information available on the targets. Floor Seven's conference room was dedicated to "financial research" and was tasked with gathering information on assets of Tri-Star Partners as well as the owners of the company. Floor Eight's conference room was the "war room", where accumulated data would be analyzed by Amanda and Sean before being either discarded or incorporated into their plan of attack. Moe, Nina, Monica and Rick Acosta had established positions in this room.

Building off information previously obtained by both Brandt Consulting and the FBI, the initial attack plan was well established before Sean and Amanda left the office around 8PM to return home. Having a plan of attack rather than simply reacting to the assaults of others had buoyed both Sean and Amanda's spirits, but they had still been uninterested in physical affection until this morning.

Amanda was not only making up for lost time in her passionate pursuit of both hers and Sean's pleasure, she was also trying to build up a reserve of mutual satiated gratification since Sean would be leaving in a few hours to initiate the part of their strategy that he had been preparing for over the weekend. They weren't certain how long he would need to be gone, so Amanda made love to him as if he was a soldier going off to some foreign land to do battle. The warrior in him would be obvious, and the battles would definitely be fought, but as far as either of them knew, everything would take place in the State of Georgia.

Her inexperience was no hindrance to her objectives. She knew how she and Sean fit together, so she focused her attention on that shared physical attribute in every position they had already tried, as well as one she had heard some girls in college mention, called "Reverse Cowgirl". That was one position she was definitely going to be doing with Sean as often as possible. She felt even fuller of his erection than when he entered her from behind, and with his proven stamina, she knew that her own pleasures would be prolonged beyond her ability to maintain consciousness.

"Are there any circumstances where you won't be able to call me at least once a day?" 

Sean had to listen carefully because Amanda's face was buried against his neck as she spoke. Their sated bodies laid on the tangled sheets and comforter on the floor where their love-making had culminated.

"You remember that there are areas down there where cell coverage is non-existent, but I'll find some way of getting in touch with you every day. If the leads that Rick Acosta mentioned at Autry State Prison have information that identify the people that killed Glenn Parker, burnt the cabins and abducted Mickey, two or three days should be all we need to find out who sent them. He should know something by noon."

Raising her head to look into Sean's eyes, Amanda brushed hair off her face and said, "I know we need to have some sort of proof, but I wish we could just destroy DeMarcus Steele and the other leaders of Tri-Star Partners and be done with all of this."

Sean assumed a sitting position with his back against the side of the bed, and then guided Amanda to sit between his legs and lean back against him. After wrapping the sheet around both of their bodies, Sean embraced her and said, "Every indication we have is that DeMarcus Steele is behind the abduction of you and the girls, but we don't know if the other principals at Tri-Star Partners are also involved. The cars driving past Prestonwood, staking it out over the weekend were all trailed back to a house belonging to Steele, so we know he has more than a casual interest in where he suspects the girls might be. His relationship with Tom Folsom, who is implicated in the trafficking scheme by his cell phone calls to Sherriff Smith is also established, but once again, there is nothing yet pointing to Jun Kim or Stephan Mota being involved."

Positioning Sean's hands inside the sheet against her bare breasts and squeezing them to convey her desire, Amanda said, "I trust your plans, Sean. As we agreed, I'll focus on distracting Tri-Star Partners while you get the proof you need to deal with DeMarcus Steele as you see fit. I do think it's interesting how no one has heard anything from Tom Folsom or the Morris's since last week. Do you think they're in hiding somewhere?"

While caressing Amanda's nipples with the lightest touch of the palms of his hands, Sean replied, "Who knows. It really doesn't matter since they were obvious dupes used by Tri-Star Partners to try and get control of my company. I'll deal with Kim and Mota when I'm done with Steele. You just make them feel the pain before I get to them."

"It will be my second pleasure, Mr. Wallace. Right after my first pleasure, which is making love to my husband again."

***

It had become clear to I-Bar after driving by the church retreat himself that the information Stephan Mota had provided on the location of his shipment of girls was virtually worthless to him. 

The visible security began with every vehicle traveling the road approaching the entrance to the retreat being blatantly photographed by uniformed and armed guards standing along the side of the street. I-Bar had sent cars by to check the location several times since Friday, and whether it was day or night, the cars were photographed each time they drove down the street. The entrance drive itself was blocked by two of the biggest Hummers that I-Bar had ever seen. These had to military versions, but regardless of who they belong to, their positioning and accompaniment by more than a dozen heavily armed guards made getting past them impossible without something equivalent to a Marine landing force. The fence around the property, at least what I-Bar could see of it from the road, didn't look too tough, but the patrols of guards with their dogs appeared to have the entire perimeter covered. Each patrol was positioned to always have at least two other patrols in sight, which meant that there must be close to twenty patrols always on duty around the border of the property. When he had sent some of his men across the river to see what that side of the property looked like, they had encountered police and private security obstacles preventing them from getting anywhere near the river within a half mile on either side of the retreat. From a bridge over the river more than a mile away, one of I-Bar's men was able to get a picture on his cell phone that showed several inflatable motor boats with pairs of armed guards in them, sitting stationary in the river all along the bank where the retreat was located.

It was also clear to I-Bar as he drank his third glass of orange juice since breakfast that he needed to raise some money fast. True, he hadn't needed to pay the balance of what the traders had been expecting due to them being arrested, but he had covered his up-front expenses through hisTri-Star Partners accounts, which now left him short for other commitments even if the accounts were unfrozen by the Feds. 

Mota had made it clear that he and Kim expected I-Bar to cover their losses due to all their accounts being frozen, but the extent of these would be limited to the potential of the options each had on the table when the time came to exercise those options. If the respective commodities came in lower than the option price on each, then the option would be allowed to expire and either Mota or Kim would see no loss. However, if the price was higher than the option amount, then the difference would be the loss his partners would experience by not being able to exercise the option at that time.

More troubling to I-Bar was learning that Jun Kim was still holding Kimberley. While I-Bar didn't think Kim knew of his love for Kimberley, he couldn't be certain of that. Kimberley may had said something that provided Kim with knowledge of him and Kimberley having a relationship, so the sooner he could get her away from Kim, the better. Kim could be persuaded with cash far more easily than through intimidation, so this was another reason that I-Bar was pondering how to raise money as quickly as possible.

What I-Bar wanted more than anything right now was to get his hands onto Amanda Wallace. If he could get her away from Sean Wallace, not only would his financial problems be solved, but he knew he could also arrange for the return of the girls. If Amanda Wallace wanted to go back to some limp-dick white guy after I-Bar had turned her into his Bitch for a few days, then he might even let her go. Maybe. He had to find her and then see what his options were to separate her from the "Pussy".

There wasn't much that I-Bar could do to squeeze his pimps for more money or expect his pushers to suddenly find enough new customers to increase his revenue from those ventures. His quickest way of bringing additional money in was to take it from the black, and a few white businesses that his operational section of Tri-Star Partners controlled. Each of the gangs had focused their Tri-Star Partners activities on their respective populations, which naturally left I-Bar with the largest pool of businesses to intimidate and extort money from. He was about to give orders to that effect when he received an unexpected text message on his cell phone.

"Good morning Mr. Steele. I think it's time you and I met. Please call me at your convenience. Thank you, Amanda Wallace."

***

Ernest Han didn't hesitate to bring this situation to the attention of Jun Kim. After all, he was just a lowly bookkeeper, as Jun Kim had reminded him on many occasions, so discovering bank accounts at two Tri-Star Partners managed companies no longer being accessible was above his level of responsibility.

Jun Kim accepted the information as a nuisance and merely assigned the task of investigating the matter to Kai Young, one of his most thorough enforcers. Young started with a phone call.

"Tip-Top Laundry. May I help you?" The American accent of the woman answering the phone surprised Young.

"Let me speak to Hwan," said Young in Korean.

"I'm sorry, but I don't understand the language you are speaking. Do you speak English?"

Young grudgingly switched to the 'dog language', "Let me speak to Hwan," he repeated.

"I'm sorry, but there is no one here by that name..."

"He owns the damn place you idiot!" growled Young. "Put him on the phone."

"Sir, I work for Tip-Top Laundry and I can assure you that the last name of the owner is not 'Hwan."

"Fine," snarled Young. "Then what is the name of the owner?"

"I do not know sir."

"Put them on the phone then," barked Young, still trying to intimidate this unknown person on the other end of the telephone line.

"A representative for the owner can be reached at 678-438-0987. I believe he is expecting your call sir. Good day."




Heavy Traffic Ch. 16



Young barely had a chance to write down the number provided before the call was terminated. He decided to contact the other business that Jun had referred to him before pursuing this "representative" character.

"East-West Imports. May I help you?" Again the accent of the person answering the phone did not meet Young's expectations. This time he started out with English.

"Put Park on the phone," Young ordered.

"I'm sorry, do you want me to put the phone on hold?"

Young was losing his temper, which had a short fuse to begin with. "Put the owner, Dae Park on the phone!" he screamed

"Sir, I believe you have been misinformed. The owner's name is not Park."

"Since when?" asked Young, losing some of his bravado.

"I wouldn't know sir, but there is a representative of the new owner available to speak with you at 678-438-0987."

This time Young terminated the call. He considered informing Jun Kim of these developments, but then decided he should have more information first. He dialed the number provided to him.

"G'Day, this is Elliott Greer."

The accent of this person really confused Young because he couldn't distinguish whether it was British, Australian, or maybe even New Zealander.

"My name is Kai Young with Tri-Star Partners..."

"Good afternoon Mr. Young. I have been expecting your call."

"Why have you been expecting my call?" asked Young. "How do you know me?"

"I don't know you, Mr. Young," replied Greer. "I know of Tri-Star Partners and expected a call from someone in the organization once the acquisitions of the companies you manage became known to you."

"What do you mean? You cannot buy companies managed by Tri-Star Partners without our approval. It is in the management contract," replied Young.

"I'm afraid you need to read your contracts a little closer next time, Mr. Young. They clearly stipulate that sale or transfer of ownership requires approval by Tri-Star except when the purchaser is a foreign individual or corporation. Your lawyers were smart enough to place that clause in the contract so they would not violate numerous free-trade agreements that the United States is signatory to, and since the company I represent is a foreign corporation, our actions are very defensible in any court of law, here or there."

"Is your life worth owning a chain of laundromats and a small import-export business?" asked Young.

"No worries Mr. Young. G'Day."

While Kai Young held a disconnected cell phone in his hand, Elliott Greer used his own phone to send an e-mail to Amanda Wallace updating her on his conversation and on their progress with other Tri-Star Partner accounts. Elliott had anticipated the Korean owned businesses to be the most willing to accept the offer of acquisition by Wallace Holdings and he had been right. The traditional oriental owned business seldom employed anyone not in the immediate family, which placed them all in greater risk when gangs started extorting money through threats and intimidation. Offering these family businesses a way to get out from under the threat, while providing them the resources required to relocate or start a new venture was just too good for them to pass up. Reports from his team were that all but one of the Korean owned businesses had accepted the offer within hours, and the remaining one was simply waiting for one of the family members to return from a trip to Charlotte before also accepting. 

Tri-Star partners would soon learn that more than sixty percent of the targeted accounts had been acquired by Wallace Holdings in a single day, and Elliott anticipated that his team would exceed a ninety-five percent success rate or better after two days. The business owners on the target list purposely excluded any of the known accounts of Tri-Star Partners controlled by DeMarcus Steele. This fact would also become very clear to the three partners very quickly.

The American and Hispanic business owners contacted so far were controlled by Kim or Mota and all had been very receptive of the offer, but most were more circumspect and cautious in their deliberations. Several claimed that they wanted time to verify the validity of the offer, but Elliott suspected these owners wanted to seek the counsel of a spouse or other trusted advisor prior to accepting. Tomorrow would be a busy day for Tri-Star Partners. 

***

"Are we okay meeting here?" asked Sean.

Rick Acosta understood Sean's concern. They were sitting in a conference room at the Mitchell County Sherriff's office in Camilla, approximately five miles from the Jimmy Autry Correctional Institute.

"We're good. You are a property owner who is a victim of arson which may be related to an ongoing Federal investigation. No one will question why you and I are meeting here.

"Okay then," said Sean. "Fill me in what you've learned.

Acosta spent the next fifteen minutes detailing the information he had been provided and answering Sean's questions.

"How reliable do you rate this information?" asked Sean.

"Highest reliability," said Rick Acosta. "Most of it came from guards at the prison, but the details we really need came from an undercover FBI agent who has infiltrated the Black gang run by Ellis inside the place."

"Their proximity to Constance Lake could prove beneficial..." thought Sean aloud. He looked at the clock on the wall, which read just after five thirty in the afternoon. "I can definitely be there before nightfall."

"Will you need my assistance?" asked Acosta.

"Just where we've already discussed about the prison schedule," replied Sean. "Other than that, keeping the locals distracted with the on-going investigation should be enough."

"You won't need help with any clean-up?"

"No," confirmed Sean. "I already have plans on how to keep everything covert. I had a lot of practice disguising black mission activities so the enemy never suspected that the events were targeted against them. The same principles can be utilized to disguise my actions from local authorities."

"Okay then," said Acosta. "The Ford F250 with the camper shell in the parking lot has everything you requested. Here are the keys. Leave it wherever is convenient and I'll arrange for it to be returned."

Rising from his chair and heading out of the conference room, Sean asked over his shoulder, "Does the truck have hands-free Bluetooth?"

Following Sean out of the conference room towards the building exit, Acosta chuckled, "Not likely. You requested something at least ten years old."

Locating the truck and approaching it, Sean pulled an earpiece out of his shirt pocket, "No problem, I brought my own. Expect my call between midnight and one. Thanks again."

Acosta simply nodded as he shook Sean's hand and then walked away towards his own car. Sean unlocked the cab of the truck and climbed behind the wheel. 

The truck's interior was significantly cleaner than the exterior, which suited Sean just fine. Knowing he would have little time before losing cell coverage on the drive south, he called Amanda before pulling out of the parking lot.

"Hi Sean!" Amanda's voice and obvious excitement over his calling brought a lump to Sean's throat. He hated being away from her.

"Hi Amanda. I probably have only a few minutes before the cell signal gets flaky, so I wanted to spend it with you if you can fit me in."

"You are, and will always be my priority Mr. Wallace. Is everything going to plan so far?"

"As you know, my plans were fluid pending the information that Rick Acosta was able to obtain. What he provided has definitely allowed me to firm the plans up. I intend to gather more information tonight which should finalize my plans for the remainder of the operation. How is your plan holding up?"

"Oh Sean, things couldn't be going better. Elliott is having great success and I expect fireworks to start at Tri-Star Partners within a day or two. I doubt that any of them will be thinking of anything other than each other, which should leave your path clear. Is there anything further I can do to assist you?"

"Just stay safe and keep your security close. I don't want to be worried about you."

"I'll keep my promise, Sean. I understand your concerns and I won't do anything that runs contrary to what you and I have already agreed to where security for me or anyone else is concerned. Trust me."

"I do trust you, Amanda. If you can arrange it, I can probably move my base of operations back to the Atlanta area day after tomorrow. Can you get setup to work at Prestonwood for a couple of days later this week?"

"Of course, Sean. Would you want me to fly down or drive?"

"Probably best to fly because that would make things more flexible from a timing perspective. Is Jeannie Sexton still on call for you up there?"

"She is," answered Amanda. "I can have Samuel pick me up in Atlanta when I arrive."

"Run this by Gail Bennett and make sure she is okay with security for you during the trip. If she has any concerns or suggestions, please share them with me the next time we talk."

"As you wish, Sean. Please call me whenever it is most convenient for you. Don't worry about waking me or interrupting anything. Will you agree to do that?"

"That's a deal, my love. In fact, I'll probably call you before breakfast just to hear your voice again. I miss you."

"I miss you too, Sean. Please take care of my guy and I'll keep taking care of your girl."

"Consider it done, Amanda. I love you."

"I love you too Sean. Talk to you soon." 

***

Stephan Mota saw the two police officers entering the restaurant on one of the cameras in his office but didn't give their arrival a second thought. It was not uncommon for local law enforcement officers to eat their meals in his restaurant, and since it was just past the busiest dinner time, it was natural that these officers would pick this time for their own meals.

When there was a knock on his office door a few minutes later, Mota opened it to see his bodyguard flanked by the two officers. There was a third man in a business suit who Mota had taken no notice of previously entering the building.

"Yes?" Mota inquired to his bodyguard.

One of the officers answered before the bodyguard, "Stephan Mota?"

"I am Stephan Mota. How may I assist you officer?"

"Actually sir, it's Deputy. Deputy John Marin. This is my partner Deputy Franks, and this is Levi Acker representing the owner of this property."

Levi Acker stepped around Deputy Franks and presented a document to Stephan Mota. Mota took the document as Acker spoke, "Mr. Mota you have just been served with an eviction notice. You have until the end of the month to vacate this property."

Mota glanced down at the document and chuckled, "You can't evict me. I have a lease..."

Acker interrupted him, "The terms of your lease allow new ownership the right to modify, or terminate at any time. My client has chosen to exercise the option to terminate your lease."

"There is no new owner because a transfer of ownership would require approval of Tri-Star Partners, the management agent for the owner of this property, and I can assure you that such approval has not, and will not be granted."

Acker extracted a folded document from his inside suit coat pocket and presented it to Mota. "Do you recognize this document, Mr. Mota?"

After only a brief glance at the document's front page, Mota smiled and said, "Of course I do. It is the management contract between Paramount Properties and Tri-Star Partners that I just mentioned." Turning a few pages, Mota continued, "I bring your attention to Paragraph eight, Sub-Section two, which clearly states that transfer of ownership or sale of Paramount Properties requires approval of Tri-Star Partners." 

Mota attempted to hand the document back, but Acker held up his hand and said, "Please read Paragraph eleven, Sub-Section six Mr. Mota."

Mota turned to the relevant section and quickly read it. He looked puzzled when he raised his eyes again to meet Acker's. "The 'Foreign Person Clause'?"

Acker nodded. "Per Section 26, subtitle 7701 of the US Code, Foreign persons includes individuals who are not U.S. citizens or resident aliens, corporations organized outside the United States, and nonresident estates and trusts. My client meets this definition under the law, and the Judge signing the eviction order just presented to you had no difficulty ruling that the sale of Paramount Properties did not require approval under the management agreement with Tri-Star Partners."

Mota turned and retrieved the eviction notice from the bookshelf next to the door where he had placed it. Quickly finding the relevant line, he saw that a Gwinnett County Judge had in fact signed the order. Not just any Judge, however. Mota recognized the signature of Lucero Menéndez.

"Who is the foreign person who bought Paramount Properties?" asked Mota. "I would like to discuss this transaction with him. Perhaps we can come to some arrangement that would allow me to keep my restaurant at this location."

"I will let my client know of your interest in discussing the transaction, but I would not delay making arrangements to vacate this property by the end of the month."

A smiled returned to Mota's face as he said, "I can be quite persuasive, Mr. Acker."

"So can Amanda Wallace," replied Acker. The smile fell from Mota's face as Levi Acker and the two Deputies turned and left his soon to be closed restaurant.

Mota closed the door to his office and returned to his desk with both the eviction notice and the Paramount Properties management agreement in his hands. Placing them in separate locations on the surface, he glanced between the two documents for several minutes reviewing in his mind the interaction he had just had with Levi Acker.

The management agreement was boilerplate. He had drafted it himself soon after Kim, Steele and he had decided to form Tri-Star Partners. He had assumed correctly that the threats of physical harm to the business owners or their families carried more weight in maintaining control than the words on the management agreement, and it was through confidence in his and his partner's methods of intimidation that he had relied. He realized now that someone, maybe even Amanda Wallace as Acker had mentioned, had persuaded the owner of Paramount Properties, Greg Torrance that once the company was sold Tri-Star would pose no threat. Well, if he needed to set an example for other business owners, Greg Torrance would see how wrong he was to use some legal loop-hole to escape Stephan Mota.

First, however Mota wanted to have a conversation with Judge Menéndez. He pulled a throw-away cell phone from his desk and dialed a number from a card in his Rolodex.

"Good evening Stephan. I'm glad to see that you are thinking straight enough to use these phones," answered Gwinnett County Judge Menéndez on his own similar cell phone.

"You've got some explaining to do Lucero. After all I have done to get you elected and then keep you there for the past eight years..."

"What did you do Stephan?" interrupted Menéndez. "I have never seen such enmity directed towards a company as I am seeing with Tri-Star Partners and for me to be caught up in it due to our association. You have apparently made a very powerful enemy, my friend."

"What are you talking about, Lucero? I want to know why you agreed to approve the sale of Paramount Properties and then signed the eviction order for my restaurant."

"I had no choice, Stephan. Since this afternoon, when I initially refused to meet with the lawyers representing the new owner of Paramount Properties, I now have the Justice Department pouring over my campaign finances for the past three elections, and have the threat of a complete judicial review hanging over my head. The Bar Association has already scheduled a hearing for next week on ethics violations, so I ask you again, Stephan, what did you do?"

"I'll let you know when I figure it out," said Mota. "Do you agree that these actions seem extreme to gain ownership of Paramount Properties? What is the attraction?"

"You seriously don't know?" asked Menéndez.

"I already told you I don't know..."

"I'm not talking about knowing why this is happening," interrupted the Judge. "I'm talking about knowing the scope of what has happened."

"I don't understand," admitted Mota.

"Stephan, while I was being threatened in chambers over signing the eviction order, my own Clerk was being used to notarize the title transfers for every business in Gwinnett County managed by Tri-Star Partners. Stephan, the same person who acquired Paramount Properties and is having you evicted has gained ownership of all the businesses you manage, at least in Gwinnett County. I can't speak for DeKalb, Fulton or the other surrounding counties, but it would not surprise me if that was also the case in these."

"Mi Dios," moaned Mota. "Who is this man, Lucero?"

"It is not a man, my friend. Her name is Amanda Wallace." 

***

Amanda picked her ringing cell phone up from the floor beside where she and Merlin had been playing with one of his rope toys. Realizing it was still too early for Sean's next phone call, she smiled when she saw the number displayed on the screen. How predictable Mr. Steele was.

"Hello," Amanda answered, implying that she didn't already know who was calling at this late hour.

"Good evening, Mrs. Wallace. This is DeMarcus Steele. I apologize for calling so late..."

"Oh don't apologize, and please call me Amanda,"

"Only if you call me DeMarcus." Steele had been vacillating all day on which persona he wanted to use when he finally responded to Amanda Wallace's request for a phone call. He was undecided up to the time when he dialed her number, when his professional Black gentleman persona won out.

"I would be honored, DeMarcus. Thank you for responding to my message. I was afraid that after our last conversation that you would be unreceptive to us arranging to meet in person."

"Not at all, Amanda," Steele threw in a forced chuckle. "I was thrilled to get you message, and I am even more thrilled at the prospect of finally meeting you. Did you have any date or location in mind, or would you like me to suggest something?"

"I am so glad to hear that, DeMarcus. If you are free tomorrow, I would love for you to be my guest for lunch. Would that be convenient for you?"

"Just name a place and time, Amanda. I will be there."

"Oh wonderful! If you could be at Peachtree-DeKalb Airport tomorrow at 11AM, I will have a jet arranged to fly you up here. We'll have much more privacy at my home here than in some restaurant."

"That sounds nice, Amanda." It was anything but nice since it would mean his chance to capture this Bitch would likely have to wait, but he maintained his charade. "Was there anything in particular that you want to discuss over lunch?" 

"Most definitely, DeMarcus. The subject of a certain shipment was raised during our last conversation. You may not be aware of this, but I know where the shipment is, and I would like you to consider allowing me to buy the entire shipment from you. I'm sure I could meet your price if we can come to terms on the transaction."

Steele hadn't thought he could get more intrigued by Amanda Wallace, but now he was. "What about Sean Wallace?" he asked.

"What about Sean?" Amanda replied.

"Will he be joining us for lunch?"

Amanda forced her own chuckle this time, "Oh heavens no. Sean is out hunting or trapping, or something. Plus, he isn't really interested in such dealings as this. Sean is an excellent hunter, and an exceptional businessman, but he is not quite a 'husband' if you catch my meaning. It will be just you and me if that's alright with you DeMarcus."

"I'm sure you and I can have a very enjoyable time alone together," DeMarcus said. Was he hearing this Bitch right?




Heavy Traffic Ch. 16



"Oh I think so too, DeMarcus. I do have this curiosity about American men, and as I said, it will be just you and me..."



Heavy Traffic Ch. 17



The only difference between the abandoned roadhouse called The Outpost and an over-sized outhouse was the absence of a crescent moon cut-out on the door. 

Sean glanced at the CO monitor on the seat and then at his watch. Nine hundred and fifty parts per million had been displayed for the past twenty minutes. The sound of the men in the building complaining of headaches had ceased, but he could still hear the occasional vomiting attack through his headset. The transmitter in the building would not be affected by the carbon monoxide he was spewing into it from the tailpipe of the truck, so he was able to monitor the condition of the gang inside by their sounds.

Since the cinder-block building had been abandoned by the previous owner, the front doors and all the windows had been boarded up. The gang had been accessing the building through the one back door, which Sean had blocked when he had backed the truck up against it after he was certain that the last member of the gang had gone inside.

The intelligence that Rick Acosta had obtained confirmed that a Major Ellis still led the organized crime operations of all Black gangs in South Georgia, and that Ellis had accepted the contract from DeMarcus Steele to kill Sheriff Smith. Ellis had used his own son, Minor to kill Glenn Parker, burn down his and Sean's cabins, and then to take the captured Mickey Anderson and deliver her to DeMarcus Steele personally.

The information on Minor Ellis indicated that he typically rendezvoused with his gang members at this location each night after 11PM to collect the money from their drug sales, prostitution, and extortion operations. Sean had arrived four hours previous to this and had time to reconnoiter not only the building, but the surrounding area as well. He had used commercially available spray cans of foam insulation to seal gaps around windows and doors, verified the amount of propane left in the tank behind the building, placed the CO sensors and radio transmitter in the building and prepared the method for the exhaust fumes to enter the building without detection.

While carbon monoxide is odorless, the exhaust fumes from the truck were not. The twenty six gang members in the building noticed the smell gradually, and when two of them discovered that the only door was blocked by something on the outside of the building, their situation became more obvious. Several of the men began vain attempts to find an alternate means of exiting the building, or at least a source of fresh air. Others turned to the only solution they had ever needed for any of their problems and began shooting the steel reinforced back door.

Sean turned off the engine and sat listening to the radio receiver for five additional minutes before getting out of the truck and disconnecting the tubing that had run from the tailpipe to the opening in the building. He considered sealing it with insulating foam, then decided that the air flow it allowed would serve his purposes better. Returning to the cab of the truck, he started it and pulled away from the building, parking close to the large propane tank that had once supplied fuel for the hot water heater, furnace and appliances in the building. It was still connected through underground pipes, and Sean made quick work of removing the padlock from the service handle using a bolt cutter. He left the handle in the 'off' position and returned to the back of the truck.

Donning the portable respirator that he had purchased earlier at a paint supply, Sean then approached the back of the building and opened the door. Stepping quickly into the building, he did not turn the head-mounted flashlight on until the door was closed again. The scene was just as he had expected, and he moved accordingly. There were pools of vomit next to every one of the twenty six unconscious bodies, so Sean took care not to leave any tracks by avoiding the mess. Checking the pulse of each man as he passed confirmed that all were still alive and breathing, which was the desired condition Sean had been seeking. He wanted them to be able to breathe enough smoke to explain the carbon monoxide poisoning any potential autopsies might uncover.

The gang had been using kerosene camping lanterns to light their hide-out, and all were still lit. Sean kicked over two particular lanterns, and while the flames extinguished, the fuel quickly spilled out and began soaking into the worn mattresses on the floor. Sean left the other three lanterns upright and lit. He wanted the flames burning when the propane reached them. 

Dragging one of the old mattresses that didn't have a body on it with him, he left the main room and entered what had once been a kitchen area. Sean found and turned on the valves for the gas lines that at one time went to the stove and water heater and laid the mattress directly in front of these.

With the interior of the building staged to his satisfaction, Sean retrieved the transmitter and CO sensor. He turned off the flashlight, removed it and the respirator, and then quickly exited the building. Placing the items back into the truck and closing the camper door, Sean then opened the service valve on the propane tank, climbed into the truck and drove past the collection of large SUV's that the gang had arrived in and turned onto the highway just after midnight.

"So you gentlemen like playing with fire," Sean said to the reflection of The Outpost in his rear-view mirror. "Have fun with this one."

Sean almost chastised himself for these words, until he thought back on the conversations that he and Amanda had had over the past few days. She had been perceptive of his feelings and prophetic of his thoughts where their pending actions were concerned. Sean had killed before, and Amanda knew this, but he was not a "killer". Twenty six men were about to die due to his actions, and together they had prepared mentally, emotionally, and spiritually to accept their actions as justifiable.

Each of the gang members currently lying unconscious within The Outpost had some culpability in the killing of Glenn Parker, the abduction of Mickey and the burning of the cabins, even if they didn't fire a shot or light a single match. However, as Sean had explained to Amanda, he could not approach their mission merely as an act of revenge for what had already occurred. His justification needed to be more preemptive in purpose and in promise. 

Would each of these gang members someday kill or torture another person if Sean didn't stop them tonight? Sean and Amanda couldn't be certain of that, but it was certain that none of them would ever get the chance. If a rancher spotted a wolf stalking his livestock, he didn't wait to see if it would attack them, he took action to prevent it from attacking. Sean just made certain that this pack of wolves would never be a threat again.

As the truck reached the top of a slight incline on the highway, Sean could see the faint orange glow in the distance indicating that the flames inside the building had already reached the wood covering the windows. As this wood burnt through, additional oxygen would feed the fire and the roof would soon become engulfed as well. The flow of propane would not cause an explosion, but it would continue to feed the fire until the tank was empty. There was little chance that the fire would be noticed, or that emergency responders would get to it before the roof collapsed onto the charred bodies lying within the building. It was even less likely that the scene would be viewed as anything other than an unfortunate accident involving trespassers in an abandoned building falling victim to their own carelessness.

The view of the flames fell away as the truck began descending on its continued journey east. Losing sight of the building, Sean wiped the event from his mind and began focusing his attention onto his next part of the mission, and frequent thoughts of Amanda.

***

Stephan Mota didn't even attempt to sleep. He knew it would be a fruitless effort. Instead, he had spent the last six hours scouring the internet and every database he had access to in an attempt to learn all he could on Amanda Wallace. After all these efforts, she remained an enigma to him.

Her Olympic accomplishments were detailed, and there was cursory mention of her when her parents and then her brother had died. Glaringly absent were any details about her business philosophies or her personality in general that would provide some insight into how Mota might be able to deal with her.

It could be assumed that the acquisition of the Tri-Star Partners accounts were done for some reason, or reasons other than merely wanting to own these businesses. As Judge Menéndez had implied, the actions were those of someone seeking vengeance or retribution of some sort, and Mota knew that DeMarcus Steele had definitely brought Tri-Star Partners afoul of Sean Wallace, but that involved Wallace Enterprises not Wallace Holdings. Mota had done nothing himself to Amanda or Sean Wallace, but he wasn't stupid. He knew that the old adage, "A friend of my enemy is also my enemy" came into play here.

Sean and Amanda Wallace were obviously working together to a greater extent than Mota had been told, but who between them was calling the shots, and why these particular 'shots'? The information on Sean Wallace that he had taunted DeMarcus Steele with had been provided by multiple sources that Mota had within various government agencies and was just summary data in every case. Mota had thought that the summaries would be adequate for his purposes, but now that he craved greater details on this man, would these same sources be willing to cooperate. He had his doubts.

Switching from his data search on Amanda Wallace to Sean Wallace, Mota decided to include photos of the man in his queries. If this was his enemy as Menéndez had implied, then he wanted to see what he looked like. Remembering the conversation with Menéndez, Mota now recalled hearing almost a sense of awe in the Judge's voice as he detailed the influence that must have been brought to bear for his political and judicial dealings to be under review without any prior investigations or complaints. Mota knew that the level of the pressure, coming from the Justice Department directly rather than merely a field office also indicated that the influence was unlikely to have been brought by Amanda Wallace alone.

Photos of Sean Wallace were even more scarce than those of Amanda Wallace, but Mota didn't need more than the one on his computer screen right now to grasp the understanding he had been seeking. A wedding photo taken at the White House identified Sean Wallace as one of the groomsmen. It was a grainy news file photo, but Mota could see in the eyes that Sean Wallace was going to be trouble. Becoming "an enemy to his enemy" might be the best approach for Mota to take where Sean Wallace was concerned.

***

The nearest Wallace Enterprises hotel property was along interstate 75 in Valdosta. The two hour drive was worth it for Sean, because staying in one of his own properties provided him with the privacy he wanted. Following his earlier instructions, Monica had made arrangements for the 'code-word' check-in which eliminated him even having to show identification or a credit card to obtain a room key. He was completely anonymous to the hotel staff and would remain that way.

Sean took the time to relieve himself in the suite's bathroom, and then brushed his teeth before removing his shoes and falling fully clothed onto the king-sized bed in the room. He set his cell phone alarm to awaken him at 6AM. Sleep came quickly and easily.

When the alarm sounded, Sean awoke refreshed. He contemplated calling Amanda straight off, but then decided to take a shower and get the in-room coffee maker started first. After the shower, he setup his laptop as the coffee brewed, and while it booted and connected to the hotel's Wi-Fi service, he called Amanda.

Sean wasn't surprised to hear from Amanda's perky answering of the phone that she had been awake for a while. "Good morning Mrs. Wallace. While I don't enjoy missing you, I do love having you in my life to be missed."

"I feel exactly the same, Mr. Wallace. Have you seen any of the morning news yet?"

"Not yet," said Sean as he picked up the remote control for the television, pressed the power button and muted the sound. "What's going on?"

"Officials are investigating a building fire outside of a place called Thomasville, Georgia that killed twenty six people. The bodies were burnt beyond recognition, but a spokesman for the volunteer fire department thought they were all males. Since the building had been abandoned and boarded up, they are suspecting that the men were not authorized to use it. A propane leak is suspected as the cause..."

"Did they give a name for the building?" asked Sean. His local news channel was still providing a weather forecast.

"Why do I think you already know the name?"

Sean sighed, "It's not what I know or don't know that matters, it's whether the location gets announced so that the people I want to know finds out about it. Hang on..." Sean paused as he unmuted the television to listen to the report that Amanda had mentioned. 

The reporter didn't have to mention the name of the building because it was obvious on the worn roadside sign in front of the burnt out shell of cinder blocks in the background of the video. Even better the burnt remains of several, what were obviously once Cadillac SUV's were visible. Sean was satisfied that this would suffice for the time being.

Turning off the television and returning back to Amanda on his phone, Sean said, "Never mind, the video from the scene showed the name of the building on its sign."

"So you're good then with the news?" asked Amanda.

"I have to be," said Sean. "My hope is that some other people aren't good with it."

"Do you have your next move ready to go?"

"I know what I want it to be, but I'll need to get the right information back from Rick Acosta before I know if it will work. How are your plans progressing, Mrs. Wallace?"

"Quite well actually, I have a lunch date today with Mr. DeMarcus Steele."

Even though he and Amanda had discussed this eventuality, Sean's skin still cooled at the thought of Amanda being alone with the man who most likely tortured Mickey. "Gail has everything setup for this?"

"Everything is set," assured Amanda. "Mr. Steele will not be allowed to carry any weapons onto the plane, which unless he knows that private aviation has different rules regarding weapons than commercial flights do, will be a valid reason for him to surrender anything he has on him when he boards. He will be transported directly from the airport here to the house by Jeannie Sexton so he won't have the opportunity to re-arm himself before we meet."

"What is the plan for your safety at the house?" Sean asked.

"There will be more than a dozen armed guards within what Gail considers 'striking distance' at all times. She has shown me the areas where the cameras will always have both Mr. Steele and me in view, and provided me with two different means of signaling for help should I require it, neither requiring verbal communication, although the microphones will be on the whole time as well to record our conversation."

"I still wish I was there..."

"I wish you were here too, Sean, but for different reasons. We both agreed that for this part of the plan to succeed we need to put DeMarcus Steele at ease. Thinking he is alone with me, along with certain implied promises should accomplish that. Trust me Sean."

"I do trust you Amanda, but I couldn't love you as much as I do without worrying about your safety."

"I understand that Sean, and I love you for it. Do you still think that you will be able to be in Atlanta tomorrow?"

"It may be later in the day than I had hoped, but that's still my plan. Have you discussed flying down with Gail?"

"I have, and she's working out the logistics just in case. I can't wait to see you.

"Nor me you. I should probably check e-mail to see if Rick has sent me the information I need. Please call me after your meeting with Steele. I'll be here at the hotel until sunset at least unless Acosta's information gives me a good reason to venture out.

"I'll do that Sean. I love you."

"I love you too Amanda."

***

DeMarcus Steele had been restless all night, and the reason was foreign to him. He couldn't get his mind off of Amanda Wallace, and his thoughts of her were not what he expected them to be. Instead of thinking of how he would humiliate and degrade her - physically and emotionally – using her body solely for his own pleasure, he found himself thinking of ways to please her.

She had intrigued him with her proposition to buy his shipment, and placed him into a perpetual state of arousal since her hints of sexual exploration. He knew that the arousal was due to the thought of cuckolding Sean Wallace more than the thought of having sex with Amanda Wallace. Hell, he hadn't even seen what she looked like. She could resemble one of them bizarre animals that lived in Australia for all DeMarcus knew, but it didn't matter. He would do his best to make certain that when he was done with her, Amanda Wallace would be spoiled for his cock and resent Sean Wallace for being the Pussy everyone knew him to be.

Choosing a custom tailored taupe plaid suit to complement and enhance his dark skin, DeMarcus knew that his appearance would impress most women, regardless of their race. He had model-quality facial features, a tall lean, toned body and a captivating smile when he chose to display it. The uniformed sister approaching him now in the lobby of World Wings at Peachtree-DeKalb Airport would soon experience the smile, he decided.

"Mr. Steele, my name is Jeannie Sexton and I'll be your pilot this morning." She extended her hand towards him

DeMarcus did smile as he shook Jeannie Sexton's hand and said, "I'm very pleased to meet you Jeannie. I look forward to traveling with you."

"We don't currently have a magnetometer working in this building. Would you consent to a pat-down for any prohibited items, such as guns, knives, or other weapons?"

"I'm okay with that," said DeMarcus as the man who had been behind the counter came around to frisk him. DeMarcus raised his arms and allowed the inspection without comment.

When Caleb had completed the search as he had been instructed to perform it, he nodded to Jeannie. "Excellent Mr. Steele, if you'll just follow me to the plane we can be underway shortly."

Raising his voice to be heard over the sound of various airport noises once they had stepped out of the lobby and onto the tarmac, DeMarcus asked, "How much do you charge for a flight like we're taking today?"

Jeannie Sexton continued walking towards their plane as she responded, "It depends on several factors, such as the type of aircraft, lay-over duration, time of day, and number of passengers. Someone in the office could provide you a quote when we return if you're interested, Mr. Steele."

As they reached the plane and Jeannie started climbing the stairs to enter, DeMarcus got an eye-level view of her ass under the khaki pants she wore. "Fine!" more than summed up the view in his mind. Following her up the stairs, DeMarcus continued their conversation, "A quote's not necessary. I was just curious how much Mrs. Wallace was paying to have me flown in for lunch."

Pausing at the door to the cockpit, Jeannie turned and faced DeMarcus. Smiling, she said, "Mrs. Wallace didn't pay anything for this flight Mr. Steele. She owns the company. You are my only passenger, so please take any seat you would like and fasten your seat belt. We'll be taxiing to the runway shortly."

DeMarcus selected the first forward facing seat on the right side of the plane after recognizing that it provided a view into the cockpit and might allow him to talk with this fine lady pilot during their flight. The conversation he wanted to have was one of the most challenging for men. How to pry information from a woman about another woman while at the same time trying to make her believe you were interested in her personally. 




Heavy Traffic Ch. 17



Unfortunately, the pilot placed a headset over her ears immediately after taking her seat and paid no attention to DeMarcus until they had landed. DeMarcus had not flown too often, and the few times he had, it had been on commercial flights. He enjoyed the convenience that this private flight afforded, as well as the views out the window. Even though he was anxious to meet Amanda Wallace, the time in the air was disappointingly short.

"Welcome to Sumner County Airport, Mr. Steele. Once I get the aircraft parked and secure, I'll drive you to your meeting with Mrs. Wallace."

"You provide chauffeur service as well?" asked DeMarcus.

"Not normally," admitted Jeannie as she opened the cabin door and allowed the fold-down stairs to lower. "However, since I will be flying you back to Atlanta this afternoon, Mrs. Steele felt it would be more convenient if I drove you to and from her house as well."

She led DeMarcus through the small terminal building and out to the parking lot where she used a remote key fob to unlock the doors of a pearl-colored Volvo C-70 convertible. As he walked around the rear of the car to the passenger side, DeMarcus took note of the temporary tags on the car. Jeannie Sexton laughed to herself at this character pretending to be a gentleman when he didn't make any motion to open her door for her. She climbed behind the wheel before turning to Steele.

"Would you like the top down?" she asked.

"That would be nice," said DeMarcus. "New car?"

"Yes," answered Jeannie as she pushed the switch that automatically retracted the hard-top into the body of the car. "Mr. Wallace had it delivered for me on Saturday."

Chuckling, DeMarcus asked, "What does Mrs. Wallace think of her husband buying such a nice new car for a pretty lady such as you?"

"Actually, it was Mrs. Wallace's idea," replied Jeannie as she started the car and backed out of the space. "I was promoted to serve as the Wallaces' personal pilot last week, which will require me to spend a great deal of time here as well as in Atlanta, so she felt I needed ground transportation as well as someplace to stay while here."

"Don't tell me that they bought you a house too," laughed DeMarcus, although he saw no humor in the anticipated answer. He paid close attention to the route they were going to be taking to Amanda Wallace's house.

"No, I was given an apartment above the garage at the Wallace estate. It's larger than my condo in Buckhead."

"So you only fly the Wallaces around?"

"I fly whoever the Wallaces direct me to fly, such as you today."

"Of course," said DeMarcus. Maybe a relationship of some sort with Amanda Wallace would have additional benefits he thought. He did like this private flying shit.

***

"Anything to be concerned about from what you know of the investigation?" Sean knew that there wouldn't be, but he wanted to give Rick Acosta a chance to comment on it.

"Definitely not," replied Acosta. "You staged it perfectly, plus the victims being who they were minimizes the likelihood that anyone will pressure the authorities to look beyond the obvious. You couldn't be more in the clear."

"Okay, then let's move on. What do you have for me on the schedule we discussed?" Sean repositioned the Bluetooth earpiece so that the sound of him drinking his iced tea would not be heard. He should have thought to get a straw when he picked up his fast food lunch, but he had been distracted with thoughts of Amanda as well as this planned cell phone conversation with Rick Acosta.

"Afternoon recreation period for his building runs from 1:30PM until 3PM. Ellis typically holds court with his gang sometime after 2:15PM and they break up right before having to re-enter their building."

"Do they have a favorite location in the yard?" asked Sean.

"Their yard is on the farthest northeast portion of the prison. Depending upon the time of year, the shade from the building will extend into the yard anywhere from ten to thirty-five feet during the recreation period time frame. Unless the temperature is cold enough to allow for it, they typically stay in the farthest reaches of whatever shade is present. They want to be as far from the building when they chat as possible, but still remain in the shade when the sun heats things up."

"So," began Sean, "It is possible that right before their little pow-wow of the day breaks up, they could be within a few feet of the inner fence?"

"Very possible," admitted Acosta.

Sean glanced at his watch. "Okay, I need to get going if I hope to be in position to reconnoiter the location at the right time of day. Is there anything else I need to know?"

"You tell me," replied Acosta. "You already have the patrol routes for all the local law enforcement agencies, shift schedules for these and the guards at the prison, and copies of all response protocols related to Autry Correctional Institute. I'll be standing by for any additional requests."

"Thanks," said Sean. "I'll check things out and let you know."

***

DeMarcus found it interesting that there was no visible security around the house that they were approaching, and equally interesting that Amanda Wallace had no apparent concerns over him knowing where the house was located.

It was an impressive estate, DeMarcus had to admit. He knew that Sean Wallace had inherited his wealth from his parents, and that his paternal Grandmother reportedly lived in this house, but it was obviously a working horse breeding operation as well, and this was something DeMarcus had not been informed of. 

Jeannie Sexton stopped the car on the circular drive directly in front of the large double entry doors. As she turned off the ignition and released her seat belt, DeMarcus followed her lead. "I have been asked to escort your to Mrs. Wallace," she said. "Please follow me."

DeMarcus simply nodded and stepped out of the car. Jeannie came around the front of the car and led him up the steps and through the front doors of the house without knocking or otherwise announcing their arrival. DeMarcus closed the door behind them and took in the foyer he was standing in. Jeannie had paused to allow him time to soak in his surroundings.

"Mrs. Wallace is waiting for you in the atrium. This way please." 

Jeannie turned and continued into the house with DeMarcus on her heels. The decorating style of the house was not of his own liking, but it wasn't bad for old rich white people. It was bright and the color selections were complimentary all around. He assumed a number of the furniture pieces were antiques, but he was no judge of such things, so he didn't give it much more consideration.

Jeannie stopped at the entrance to the atrium, which DeMarcus would have called a "sunroom". As he approached the entrance, he saw a woman talking on a cell phone with her back to them as she looked through the floor to ceiling windows onto the large swimming pool outside. He paused in the entry with Jeannie Sexton and waited.

Apparently sensing their presence, the woman abruptly ended her telephone conversation and turned to face her guests. "Fuck me," thought DeMarcus as he took in the woman before him. If this was Amanda Wallace, then his fears about having to put a bag over her head to fuck her were way off base. This woman was easily one of the most beautiful white women that DeMarcus had ever seen. He couldn't miss the way she was dressed either. A white bikini top was all she wore above the flower-pattern sarong and he had to assume a matching bikini bottom below that. He was even more pleased when her silent assessment of him brought a smile to her face.

"DeMarcus," she said as she approached him in the entryway. "I am so glad that we are finally getting an opportunity to meet. I'm Amanda."

Before DeMarcus could reply, Jeannie Sexton said, "I'll be in my apartment. Just let me know when Mr. Steele is ready for his return flight." Without waiting for a response, Jeannie hurried from their presence back towards the front doors.

Amanda ignored Jeannie's exit and focused her attention on her remaining guest. "Was your flight pleasant?"

"It was very nice," replied DeMarcus. "Thank you for arrange it and our meeting. I have to admit that you are more beautiful than I had imagined, and you would have to know my imagination to appreciate how beautiful that makes you."

"That is so sweet, DeMarcus." Amanda took one of his hands and began leading him into the room. "I thought we could discuss my business proposal over lunch, and then spend some time afterwards getting to know each other better." Amanda squeezed his hand as she finished her suggestion.

"It already sounds like an offer, or offers that I can't refuse," chuckled DeMarcus as he returned her affectionate squeeze.

Amanda led DeMarcus to a round table with two place settings already present, along with a laptop computer. Directing her guest to one of the chairs, Amanda selected the one across the table from it. She had no expectation that DeMarcus Steele would offer to pull her chair out, so she didn't hesitate to seat herself as he did the same. 

***

Sean judged that these power transmission lines were at least 48 feet from the ground. This height clearance identified the voltage carried by the lines as 345 kilo-volts, which told him that the vegetation clearance on the ground had to be 31 feet on either side of the farthest line from the tower. 

He made his decision on which ammunition to use based upon the estimated distance to his target. The CCI Velocitor hyper-velocity round uses the standard long rifle case size and a standard weight bullet of proprietary hollow-point design to intensify expansion and trauma. This cartridge had a muzzle velocity of 1,435 feet per second, and due to the better ratio of bullet mass to air resistance, the Velocitor would perform better at longer range compared to the light bullets of other hyper-velocity rounds he could choose from.

Glancing down to the ground from the tree branch he had selected for his observation post, Sean located the ideal spot for his anticipated shot. He made a mental note of items he would require and determined that he could acquire everything on his own except the rifle. He already had the rifle he wanted to use, but it was currently in the gun locker of his Johns Creek home. Having someone retrieve it for him without too many questions was his only concern. 

Dropping down from the tree and checking the time, Sean decided that he would drive to his house to retrieve the rifle, and ask Rick Acosta to pick up the few other items he would require. It would require approximately eight hours to make the round trip, maybe more if he hit rush hour traffic, but he could think of no other solution.

***

"I have done some research, and learned that the price you could have received for the young girls would have ranged from twenty-five thousand dollars to seventy-five thousand dollars depending upon their age and the buyer's intended purpose for each girl. Now, I don't believe either of us can accurately place a figure on which girl would have been worth what amount, so I am proposing that an average value of fifty thousand for each girl will be paid to you, for a total of one million two hundred and fifty thousand dollars."

DeMarcus was no math wizard, but he knew that this offer was generous. Since so many of the girls were younger, his buyers had been reluctant to pay a premium price for them, and he had been looking at most of the girls being valued closer to fifteen or twenty thousand. He questioned why this beautiful rich woman would make such an offer, especially when he didn't even have possession of the girls anymore.

"What is your interest in these girls? You seem to know that I don't have them anymore, so why pay me anything?"

"I'll explain my interest later if you would like DeMarcus, but the primary reason for making you this offer is to allow you to stop searching for them, and to establish a long-term business relationship with you. That leads me to the second part of my proposal..."

Leaning back in his chair, DeMarcus said, "I'm listening."

"I would like to compensate you for your losses from Tri-Star Partners." Amanda turned the laptop to face DeMarcus. "As you can see, my company, Wallace Holdings has acquired more than fifty percent of the companies managed by Tri-Star Partners. I have purposely excluded those companies that you control DeMarcus, but your partners at Tri-Star are effectively out of business with their accounts, and they received no compensation. I could easily acquire your accounts from the rightful owners DeMarcus, but in the interest of our long-term friendship, I would rather pay you to relinquish control of them to me."

DeMarcus hadn't sensed any movement across the table, but he couldn't ignore the bare foot that had begun caressing his left leg under the table. Keeping his voice as normal as possible, he replied "So what's your offer?"

Amanda turned the laptop around, selected a different application and then turned it back to face DeMarcus. "I have set up an account at a Cayman Islands bank with a total of five million twenty thousand dollars in it. That includes the one million two hundred fifty thousand for the girls and three million seven hundred and fifty thousand for your Tri-Star Partner accounts." 

She handed DeMarcus a slip of paper. "Here are the numbers required for you to access the account on-line. If you agree to my proposal, feel free to use my laptop to immediately transfer the funds to any bank account of your choosing."

"You're telling me that I can login and transfer five million from this bank to anywhere else I want and all I have to do is agree not to search for the girls anymore and let you take over the Tri-Star Partner accounts I control? That still seems awfully generous..."

Amanda smiled as she raised her foot higher up DeMarcus' leg and said, "I believe I already mentioned the desire for a long-term arrangement between us. Sean is excellent at what he does, but as I told you yesterday, he isn't a real husband to me..."

His voice actually squeaked as he felt her foot approaching its target, "I ain't no boy toy..."

"Of course you're not DeMarcus, and I wouldn't want you to be. In fact, I was hoping I would be more your toy than the other way around."

DeMarcus was getting too uncomfortable sitting in his pants to keep this up much longer. This bitch was seriously asking him to do all the things to her that he had fantasized about. "How would you see this working?" he asked.

Amanda removed her foot from his leg before standing. As she untied the sarong from around her waist, she said, "Transfer the money first DeMarcus, then you can play with your new toy."

DeMarcus examined the bikini-clad beauty before him for several minutes before removing a business card from his wallet. Reading the numbers from the slip of paper Amanda had provided and then this card, he proceeded to transfer the funds to his own off-shore bank account.

***

Elliott Greer sat at a laptop, flanked by Moe on one side, and two FBI agents on the other. "Those blokes at Brandt Consulting did a bloody great job with the appearance of the fake account. Let's see if the program works as designed..."

All present watched at hundreds of miles away, DeMarcus entered the login credentials for his bank account, and waited for the funds transfer to be reflected in his own balance. As designed, the program developed by Brandt Consulting for Federal law enforcement simulated an actual transaction, but merely captured the required credentials that would allow for the off-shore accounts of criminals to be monitored and even accessed freely.

"Transfer is complete," Elliott said. "Once Amanda gives us the signal, we'll be set to strike." 

***

DeMarcus saw his balance increase by the expected five million twenty thousand. He sat back from the laptop with a smile on his face. "That was easy enough, now let's move on to the rest of your proposal. Shall we?"

"Definitely!" Amanda said as she dropped the sarong to the floor and smiled at DeMarcus. "Show me what you've got DeMarcus." Her glance down to his zipper made her request crystal clear to DeMarcus. White women were always fascinated by the legendary size of black cocks, and his had never disappointed.

"Here?" he asked, looking around the room and outside to the pool area.

"Why not?" replied Amanda as she walked over to the couch. "We're alone, and unless you're more modest than I assumed, I would like to see if the rumors are true. Why don't you start by taking off your shirt for me?"

DeMarcus removed his suit jacket and hung it across the back of his chair, He then removed his tie as he approached where Amanda was standing, smiling at him in anticipation. This reaction was really getting a rise out of DeMarcus, so any reluctance to expose himself was countered by his desire to release his growing erection. 

Stopping about five feet from where Amanda stood, DeMarcus folded his tie and placed it into his front pants pocket. He then removed his cufflinks and placed them in the other front pocket of his pants before unbuttoning his shirt from the top down. He pulled the shirt tail from his pants and finished unbuttoning the last two buttons. He turned his back to Amanda, then slowly removed the shirt and laid it onto one of the chairs across from the couch.

Turning back around to face Amanda, the first thing he noticed was that her smile had faded considerably. "How do you like the view?" he asked.

"You have a very nice physique DeMarcus, and I'm sure it will do for our purposes, but you know what I want to see."

Without further hesitation, DeMarcus kicked off his shoes and bent down to pull off his socks. When he righted himself once more, he unbuckled his belt. Pausing to smile at Amanda, he saw that her smile of anticipation that he had witnessed earlier had not fully returned. He knew what would bring a smile to her face, so he unfastened his pants, lowered the zipper, and pulled them down with his underwear until they were bunched up around his knees, and then he stood upright, letting gravity finish the job.

He was almost fully erect and stood proudly on display for Amanda to admire. Her subsequent fit of laughter wilted him considerably. "What da fuck is so funny? Ain't you ever seen a real man's dick before?" DeMarcus could never maintain his professional persona when being disrespected.

It took Amanda several seconds before she could get her laughter under control enough to speak. "A real man? I've seen bigger wankers than that on Koala bears." As soon as she said this, her laughter returned.

DeMarcus was really getting pissed now. No one had ever criticized the size of his cock before, and he sure wasn't prepared to have this foreign bitch think anything about him could be laughed at in this manner. He tried to take a step towards her when he almost tripped over the bunched up garments around his feet. This was probably for the best he thought because the room literally filled within seconds of his movements with a dozen armed security personnel, all with weapons pointed directly at him.

Amanda ceased her laughing at this point and addressed DeMarcus. "I am so disappointed DeMarcus. I really had envisioned you being better endowed than Sean, and I would get to experience exciting new pleasures with you. I'm sorry, but I can't see how that..." Amanda pointed directly at his limp dick, "could ever please me, especially when compared to what I already have with Sean."

"You tellin me dat da Pussy Sean Wallace be better hung dan me?" he asked. 

Amanda bit her lower lip to stifle another fit of laughter before replying, "Sean's entire body is considerably better than yours. I'm sorry DeMarcus, but I think you had better go now."




Heavy Traffic Ch. 17



DeMarcus glared at her as he considered his options for dealing with this bitch. Right at this time it was obvious that he didn't have any, so he finally bent down and pulled his underwear and pants back up and fastened them. He then finished getting dressed while the armed guards stood silent vigil around Amanda Wallace. Leaving his tie off, he had just finished putting his suit coat back on when Jeannie Sexton appeared at the entry door.

"My car is ready when you are Mr. Steele."

Amanda spoke as DeMarcus began his sulking exit from the room, "It has been a pleasure doing business with you DeMarcus. I'm sorry that your physical limitations relegate our friendship to a strictly professional one. Do have a safe flight." She then turned and walked out to the pool with her entourage of guards still surrounding her.

DeMarcus silently followed Jeannie Sexton through the house and out to her car. As they exited the estate, DeMarcus witnessed the transformation in visible security that had been absent when he had arrived. It looked like there was at least a company size detachment of armed guards at the front gates, patrolling the fences, and posted to block the one road entering the property from the highway. They provided no obstacle to their exit, but getting back in would be another question.

"Where were all dees security dudes when we arrived?" he asked Jeannie.

"Oh they were here, but hidden. Mrs. Wallace thought you might be intimidated by them."

"Well that was very considerate of her," he said, then sat quietly reviewing his time with Amanda Wallace on the drive back to the airport. While he had come away five million... wait, what was the extra twenty thousand for? Amanda had never told him. He remembered now that she had also never explained her interest in the girls. He pulled out his cell phone and called hers.

"Hello DeMarcus, did you forget something?"

"I think we both did. You never explained your interest in the girls, and I forgot to ask you what the extra twenty thousand dollars was for."

"That's right. Well DeMarcus, my interest in the girls and the extra money are related."

"How so?"

"The twenty thousand is to compensate you for me?"

"What da fuck are you talkin bout?"

"Didn't you lose the twenty thousand that the snuff film crew paid when Sean Wallace rescued me from them?"

The light finally went on in DeMarcus' head. An untraceable Australian lady. Captured along with the girls. No sign of her since last Wednesday...

"You be the bitch captured wit da girls?"

"I am in fact that very bitch DeMarcus. Welcome to your own personal hell." 

Amanda disconnected and sent the text message she had been preparing prior to the call from DeMarcus Steele.

***

"There's the signal," said Elliot. 

He moved his mouse cursor to the appropriate spot and clicked on the "execute" button. A pre-programed transaction immediately used the credentials captured from DeMarcus Steele to log into his off-shore bank and initiate a transfer of the entire thirty million dollars into the United States Treasury. Realizing that people frequently used the same credentials at all their financial institutions, these were used at the other domestic bank accounts identified as belonging to DeMarcus Steele. The Tri-Star Partner accounts were still frozen, so while the credentials most likely would have allowed access, the transfer would have been declined.

No matter. DeMarcus Steele was now effectively dead broke, which he would discover when he tried to use his ATM card to pay for parking at the Peachtree-DeKalb Airport in a little more than an hour.



Heavy Traffic Ch. 18



As the crow flies, Jun Kim's house on Woodlake Drive was probably less than ten miles from Stephan Mota's own house, but due to the shape of Lake Lanier along its southern shoreline and the congestion caused by mid-afternoon traffic, it took Mota more than an hour to drive there.

Exchanging nothing beyond the standard pleasantries until they had boarded Kim's twenty-five foot pontoon boat and had reached a distance from the shore that would render parabolic microphones ineffective, the two men were now ready to discuss their situations openly with each other. 

"You were not able to reach Steele?" asked Mota.

"I left him four voicemail messages," replied Kim. 

"So we do not know if he has become aware of the actions of Amanda Wallace?"

"We do not, but her actions against you and I have been obvious, so we should assume that he would have also noticed them if he too has been targeted."

"I agree," said Mota, "and since he is the one who pissed off Wallace, I can't imagine him not being targeted at least as aggressively as we have been. Have you had any further contact with the guy who claimed to represent Amanda Wallace?"

"No, I have been waiting to hear from my people on how much damage has been done with the acquisitions of the Tri-Star accounts before calling the number provided for this Greer. Have you heard anything more from her lawyers?"

Mota shook his head and replied, "Every call I've made has been to request a meeting with Amanda Wallace and the lawyers promise to get back to me with an answer as soon as they have one, but I had the impression that they were placating me. Something else is in the works with Amanda Wallace, Sean Wallace or both. I can sense it."

"You may be correct," agreed Kim. "So far the revenge, if that's what this is, has been merely a costly inconvenience for us, but it will have little long-term effect – at least where I am concerned. How about you?"

"Losing the restaurant is a major inconvenience because of the systems that I'll need to have relocated, but to your point, the money lost will only be a short-term hindrance."

"I also believe you are correct in assuming that something more is coming. The trouble that Amanda Wallace has gone to so far is too intensive to be done so only to inconvenience us. If your suspicions about Sean Wallace influencing the investigation into the Judge are true, do you think we will find the FBI or other agencies knocking on our doors soon?"

Mota thought Kim was being cavalier in his assessment of their risk, "This seems very personal to Amanda Wallace, and I would have to assume Sean Wallace as well. Maybe we should hope that they get the authorities involved in their plans against us..."

Their conversation was interrupted by the ringing of Kim's cell phone. He glanced at the display and said, "Steele." Mota simply nodded as Kim put the phone on speaker and answered the call. "DeMarcus, I have you on speaker so Mota can hear you as well."

"I don't give a fuck who is listening. What do you want Kim?

"Mota and I wanted to include you in a discussion we are having about Amanda Wallace, but we shouldn't conduct it over a cell phone..."

"Yeah, I want to be included in that conversation. Are you at your house?" asked DeMarcus.

"We're on the lake on my boat. Where are you?"

"Coming up to 400 on 285."

"Why don't you jump onto 400 north and head to Mary Alice Park. We'll pick you up at the dock where I met you last time. Thirty minutes should give us all enough time to get there."

"I'll see you there," said DeMarcus as the call ended. 

***

"As you instructed, I made myself more accessible to Mr. Steele on the return trip in case he wanted to talk," Jeannie Sexton said as a preamble to her conference call report.

"Thank you Jeannie," replied Amanda from the eighth floor conference room at Wallace Enterprises. She was joined by Gail Bennett, Kris Acosta, Nina Aldaco, Elliott Greer and Moe. "Did Mr. Steele act as we anticipated?"

"Pretty much. He was enraged on the drive to the airport, and I could tell that he wanted to use his phone to call someone, but it was equally evident that he didn't want me to overhear his conversation. He had calmed slightly by the time I got him on the plane and he spent most of the flight grilling me on your travel habits and routines as well as asking me everything he could about what I knew of your security arrangements, especially when you travel."

"Did he have any communications with anyone else, either on the drive to the airport or on the flight?" asked Amanda.

"He received and sent a few text messages or e-mails from his phone, but I didn't see them.

"At least one of them should have been from his bank communicating that his balance has dropped below the threshold he had established before he would be notified," commented Elliott.

"That's probably true," agreed Jeannie. "About mid-flight he asked if the plane had internet access. Apparently he wanted to access the internet and he couldn't get a consistent enough data connection on his cell phone. I do know that he spent several minutes appearing to access the internet before he left the terminal here and headed to his car. He was definitely enraged once more by the time he drove out of the lot, having to pay cash for his parking."

"Could we return for a minute to what Mr. Steele was told about your travel routines?" asked Gail.

Amanda spoke into the speaker phone on the conference table. "Jeannie, please fill Gail in on what specific questions Mr. Steele asked you about my travel routine."

"Sure. He wanted to know how much advanced notice you gave me when you wanted to fly somewhere, how many security personnel typically traveled with you, and how often you flew versus using other means of transportation. I explained that I had only flown you and Mr. Wallace a couple of times, and both had been pretty short notice trips with only the two of you onboard. I reminded him that I had only recently become your personal pilot so I couldn't speak to anything beyond my limited scope of knowledge."

"Did he ask anything about flight plans?" asked Gail.

"No, I don't think he is familiar enough with aviation rules to know about flight plans. He really isn't a very intelligent man. He did ask if I drove Mrs. Wallace around when she travelled, if she drove herself, or if she had someone else drive her. I told him that Mr. Wallace had always arranged their ground transportation."

"Okay, thank you," said Gail. "Those are my only questions for right now."

"Anyone else?" Amanda asked of the assembled group. Everyone simply shook their heads in response. "Excellent report Jeannie, thank you. Please get some rest tonight. I won't need you back here until tomorrow afternoon sometime. Nina will e-mail you the particulars..."

***

Right now, Amanda Wallace was the only thing that DeMarcus Steele hated more than being on a boat. He didn't share the fact that he didn't know how to swim with either Kim or Mota, instead claiming his dislike was due to motion sickness. It was for this reason that Kim tried to find the calmest waters for their journey back towards the center of the lake.

DeMarcus didn't have as much patience as Kim or Mota. When the boat had barely cleared the entrance to the marina he yelled over the sound of the boat's engine, "I'm going to kill that bitch!" He continued his tirade of threats against Amanda Wallace until Kim had cut the engine, but had enough sense left to not actually use her name. 

Kim joined Mota and Steele in one of the chairs mounted to the deck of the boat. "Obviously, Amanda Wallace has targeted each of us. You were right Stephan."

"She showed me that her company had acquired your accounts without paying you anything," interrupted Steele.

"She 'showed' you?" asked Mota. "You've met her?"

Steele nodded and then relayed details of the business portion of his meeting with Amanda Wallace to Kim and Mota. He didn't think they needed to know about her disrespectful comments about his cock. That was his own personal issue that he would avenge when the time came. Mota and then Kim related their own misfortunes at the hands of Amanda Wallace.

The anger in Kim's next comment was obvious and grew as he spoke each word, "She paid you five million dollars and we received nothing!"

"She scammed me, dammit!" retorted Steele. "She must have had something on her laptop that captured my login information because by the time I got back to Atlanta, not only was the five million gone, but so was every dollar in every bank account I have. She took me for more than thirty million dollars! I have sixty seven dollars in my pocket, and then I'm broke until I get my hands on her and strangle my money back out of her."

Mota could barely contain his smile, so he turned to face Kim to hide his face from Steele's view until he composed himself. "I think that is all the proof we need to know that Amanda Wallace is not acting alone." Turning back to Steele he asked, "Where was Sean Wallace, or didn't she say?"

"She told me he was out hunting someplace. I know he used to do some hunting and trapping when he was at that cabin down in south Georgia..."

"What part of south Georgia?" Mota asked.

"Fuck, I don't know. Major Ellis' kid knew how to find it and I never asked." Steele filled them in on who Major Ellis was and how he had sent his kid to burn down Wallace's cabin.

"Could Sean Wallace have learned about the involvement of this Minor Ellis?" asked Mota.

"I don't know how," said Steele, "but why would it matter?"

Mota glanced at Kim to make certain that he was paying attention to this conversation, "I warned you DeMarcus that you were underestimating Sean Wallace. I told you that he used to be a Force Recon Marine, which makes him one of the most lethal killing machines this country has ever placed into combat. That didn't impress you, so I reminded you that Sean Wallace has more money at his disposal than most governments in this world and could use that to buy a fucking army if he chose and you dismissed that. Now I've learned that Wallace has close ties to the current President of these United States, which I'm sure doesn't impress you either."

Kim stood and said, "None of that impresses me either. Killing Wallace will render his power and influence just as ineffective as any other man."

Mota pulled out his cell phone and pulled up a web page before presenting it for Steele and Kim to review. When they had seen the picture on the screen, Mota put the cell phone back into his pocket and said, "That picture is from a news story that caught my attention this morning. It shows the remains of a building in south Georgia where twenty six men died last night. They burnt to death after apparently being overcome by carbon monoxide poisoning..."

"Who gives a fuck..." said Steele.

Mota continued, "You should give a fuck. This event has many of the traits associated with covert military operations of the sort that Sean Wallace would be expert at and happened in a location where he might very well currently be 'hunting'. I don't suppose Amanda Wallace mentioned what he was hunting for, did she?"

"She didn't say and I didn't ask," said Steele. "Once I find him though his hunting days are through."

Kim nodded and said, "I had hoped that Amanda Wallace would be leverage against Sean Wallace. Do you still think that is the case?"

"Leverage for what?" asked Mota.

Steele interjected, "To draw him out so he can be killed. What else? I think that Pussy would likely run and hide, but I'm planning on getting Amanda Wallace for my own purposes. If those also bring us Sean Wallace so he can be killed, I won't complain."

"I have no objection to eliminating Sean Wallace," said Mota, "I just think that it isn't going to be as easy as you two are assuming it will be. I believe Amanda Wallace has also demonstrated her own resourcefulness to a degree that we need to respect and not underestimate."

"You leave Amanda Wallace to me," said Steele. Turning to Kim he said, "If Pussy Wallace shows up to try and rescue her, he's all yours."

"Do you need any help capturing her?" asked Kim. Mota remained out of their conversation and let them scheme themselves into certain calamity.

***

Kim dropped DeMarcus off at the marina where his car was parked and quickly began his trip back across the lake to his own dock. DeMarcus had been so preoccupied with their plans for Amanda Wallace that he neglected to ask Kim about Kimberley.

The main body of the lake wouldn't present many challenges to navigation once the sun set, but the shallower water closer to the shore could hold submerged logs and other obstacles that he would rather encounter with enough daylight left to see them.

There was no conversation between Mota and Kim during the return trip and both men were content to spend the time with their own thoughts. Quick goodbyes were exchanged on the dock and Mota was in his car before Kim had entered his own house. Although Kim had invited Mota to stay for dinner, both men knew the invitation was cursory and not genuine in any way.

It took Mota slightly less time to get home, but he still cursed the man-made bottlenecks that traffic engineers in Georgia seem to compete with each other to design into the roads. His lack of patience was exacerbated by the fatigue he was feeling after a night of little to no sleep. He grabbed a quick snack and retired to his home office to conduct the research and make the inquiries he would need for the next day. He wasn't certain of the time when he fell asleep sitting at his desk. Watching Mota from a tree branch fifty yards away, Sean Wallace would be able to tell him it was 10:15PM because he had climbed down and moved on to his next target shortly after that.

***

Jun Kim was proud of his ability to sleep soundly when many men his age were bothered by stress, an enlarged prostate, or some other malady that either woke them during the night or kept them up later than they would have liked. He was naturally puzzled when this night he awoke for no apparent reason. He lay in his bed, questioning whether he was simply dreaming that he was awake, but his awareness of the night and his surroundings grew the longer he lay there.

The house was mostly silent. There were occasional squeaks and groans emitted from the house, but nothing uncommon or unnatural. His wife slept downstairs on nights when her hips bothered her, such as tonight, so Kim knew it wasn't her restlessness or anything that had awaken him, but something must have.

Kim finally realized that he was lying in a fetal position in his bed. He never slept in this position, but he couldn't remember moving into it during the time he was aware of being awake. Stretching out and lying on his back, Kim continued to listen to the sounds of the house and contemplate this strange restlessness that he had experienced. He didn't feel rested, and thought that if he could get his mind off why he had woken up, he would be able to easily find sleep again.

What Kim had really been sensing finally found its way to his consciousness, "Where are my guards?" he asked the room, confident now that there was someone there to hear his words.

"By all appearances, they each broke their neck diving head first into the shallow end of your pool."

The voice was definitely male, American, calm, and denoted strength and confidence that he was in complete control. If what he said about the guards was true, then in all likelihood, he was in complete control. 

"Why would they dive into the pool?" Kim asked the voice. He sensed that its origin had changed locations in the dark room and he was right.

"It wasn't their choice."

"Was it yours?" asked Kim.

"Mr. Kim, everything that happens here tonight is my choice."

"You're Sean Wallace, aren't you?"

Silence.

"What is it that you want?"

More silence.

Kim reached to turn on the bedside lamp. He heard the breaking of his arm before he felt the excruciating pain. His scream was quickly muffled by a pillow over his face, almost as if the assailant had been prepared to quiet the resulting noise from the broken arm. It took several minutes for the pain to subside enough for the pillow to be removed, and Kim now wondered how this man knew that the time was right.

"Why are you taking this so personal, Mr. Wallace? Tri-Star Partners was merely conducting business with your company."

"You are the one that made me your enemy, Mr. Kim. It wasn't my choice. If you, Mota and Steele had only attacked my company, I could have left the matter to the lawyers and accountants to sort out. You didn't do that though, did you Mr. Kim?"

"I was only trying to get our money back..."

"That's not an unexpected perspective, Mr. Kim. However, your money was never at issue. Friends of mine took steps to recover money that Tri-Star Partners had stolen. Is that the money you sought to recover for you and your partners?"

"We had a business contract. The money was ours to manage..."

"Whoever told you that the contract between my company and Tri-Star Partners was legal is your enemy Mr. Kim, for it is this person who led you down the path you took..."

"My actions were all business. There was nothing personal against you intended."

"Where are Kimberley and Mark Morris?"

"I don't know what you're talking..."

"Bill Lester already told me that you have them. Where are they?"

"Gone."

Kim reluctantly explained the orders he had given. He sensed that he would soon be dead, but he would not give this man the satisfaction of saving the Morris'. The response to his explanation surprised him.

"I'm not really interested in what you did with the Morris', but when you sent your goons after Amanda, you signed your death warrant. I'm sure that you didn't realize it at the time, so I'll allow you a few minutes to reflect on that fact now. No threat to Amanda will ever be tolerated by me, and I find you most intolerable, Mr. Kim."

"We are businessmen, Mr. Wallace. I'm sure that we can come to a mutually satisfactory arrangement..."

"You have already demonstrated an inability to distinguished business from personal, Mr. Kim. Now, get out of the bed and go open the French doors." These doors opened onto the balcony, which in turn overlooked the swimming pool in the back of the house.

"Why should I do what you want? You intend to kill me anyway."

"Mr. Kim, I am very good at killing. I am even better at making you wish you were dead. You are a coward, and we both know that you are going to get out of that bed and do exactly what you are told out of fear of more pain."

Kim struggled to extricate himself from under the covers without aggravating his broken arm. He winced several times, and had tears in his eyes as he finally stood beside the bed. He still had not had a glimpse of the man in his room, and all he could make out now as he walked towards the French doors was an indistinct shape of a body in the shadows of the room. He opened the doors but remained in the room.

"Remove your clothes. Just lower them and step out, leaving them where they fall."

Kim slept only wearing boxer shorts. He cradled his injured arm against his chest as he used his other hand to start pulling his shorts down from the waist. As the elastic waistband cleared his buttocks, the shorts fell freely to the floor.

"Now, step out onto the balcony. You may look over to the pool if you want to verify the condition of your guards. That is your choice."

Kim did walk out onto the balcony, but he had no interest in looking down onto the bodies of his guards, which he was certain would be just as this man had described them. He stopped in the middle of the balcony deck and did something that surprised him. He turned to face his executioner.




Heavy Traffic Ch. 18



Sean Wallace was not bothered by Jun Kim turning to face him. He stood in the doorway between the moonlit balcony and the dark bedroom with camouflage make-up on his face and dressed in black. Even if he had been recognizable to the man, he would never be able to describe him to anyone when Sean had completed this mission.

Kim's eyes sought out those of Sean Wallace, but as soon as he looked into them, be broke eye contact and looked away. While his brief glimpse had shown him fierce eyes filled with rage, Kim suddenly felt unworthy to look into those eyes. Lowering his head, Kim turned away and faced towards the pool once more.

Kim sensed the movement behind him seconds before he felt a gloved hand grab a large portion of the hair on his head. At almost the same instant, he felt another gloved hand reaching between his legs from behind and quickly lifting him off his feet. He didn't have time to consider the discomfort of having his testicles pushed so abruptly into his body before the pressure was released and he found himself falling.

His body had not been thrown from the balcony, but simply lifted over the railing and dropped, almost as if he weighed nothing. Unfortunately, he did weigh something and this weight was focused entirely on his two bare feet as they struck the concrete deck of the pool thirty feet below.

Kim didn't know the structure of the human foot and leg, but he did know that this structure experienced significant damage when he landed, and this damage rendered him unable to maintain any semblance of balance. His scream of pain did nothing to impede his momentum towards the side of the pool, and it was quickly silenced by the water engulfing his sinking body.

As Kim's wife appeared at a downstairs window, drawn by the brief scream of pain from her husband, Sean silently jumped from the balcony onto the branch of the tree he had used to originally scale Kim's fence. He was back in the camper and returning to his next mission before Mrs. Kim had reached the side of the pool to find her husband already dead from drowning. 

***

I-Bar wasn't the most advanced computer user, but he did know how to do a basic Google search. 

Within the multiple sites listed for flight tracking of general aviation aircraft he had to find one that didn't charge a fee, because he didn't have any means of paying for access. He knew his credit cards had been essentially lines of credit against his bank accounts, but it didn't occur to him that when the banks saw his balances all drop to zero, their systems viewed this as an account closing, and his credit cards were automatically closed as well.

While he hadn't shared this information with Mota and Kim, he wasn't quite as destitute as he had implied during their meeting. He tried to always keep at least one hundred thousand dollars in cash locked in the safe at his house. Too many of his business dealings required cash payments that didn't have a chance of being traced. Unfortunately, few websites accepted cash as a means of payment.

There was a quick tap on the door to I-Bar's office before it opened and Splint walked in. He was accompanied by Q-Tip, who closed the door and followed Splint in each taking a seat across the desk from I-Bar.

"Splint, come take a look at this." Splint rose and walked around the desk to view the computer screen as I-Bar had requested.

"What bout it?"

"It says something about being able to have a notification sent to a cell phone when a specific plane files a flight plan. How do I do that?"

"Hang on, lemme look..." Splint scanned the website, asking I-Bar to click on various links until he found the instructions. "Do you know da registration nummer for da plane you wanna track?"

I-Bar recited the tail number of the plane he had flown on earlier that day. Splint entered it into the required field within the website. "You wan da notifications to go to your phone?" I-Bar nodded as he watched Splint enter his cell phone number onto the website.

"All done," said Splint as he stepped back. I-Bar didn't respond, so Splint walked back around the desk and assumed his previous seat next to Q-Tip.

I-Bar finished what he was doing on a couple of other websites before looking at his men and giving them his attention. This was the signal that Q-Tip recognized for him to explain their purpose. "Got you a message from Major Ellis," he said. I-Bar just nodded.

Q-Tip continued, "He be wantin to know if you would get some lawyer to axe da prison to let Major go to his boy's fune roll."

"What funeral?" asked I-Bar.

Splint spoke before Q-Tip, "Minor Ellis got kilt in a fire las night. Der weren't much of him lef, but Major wanna bury what der is and wans to be at da fune roll."

I-Bar remembered what Mota had shown him and Kim. "Where was this fire?"

"Some ol bandoned bildin dat Minor an his boys hung at," answered Splint.

"Did anyone else die"

"Sheeet," drawled Q-Tip, "Minor's hoe gang got burn up..."

"Twenty six people?" I-Bar asked.

Splint and Q-Tip looked at each other, surprised that I-Bar knew the number. "Right," said Splint.

"Suspected propane leak?" continued I-Bar.

This time Q-Tip answered, "Swut dey sayin..."

Splint and Q-Tip sat silently watching their boss contemplating as he leaned back in his chair. I-Bar was wondering if Minor, or one of his gang members had blabbed about their involvement at Sean Wallace's cabin or the delivery of the white Federal agent. These punks were just dumb enough to have said something to somebody, and if that information had found its way to... No, he couldn't accept that Sean Wallace had the balls to do anything like this even if he knew that Minor and his gang had been involved. Amanda Wallace on the other hand, did have balls, and enough money to pay someone to do something like this. This thought took him back to what Mota had said about Sean Wallace's wealth, and I-Bar had to consider that he might have been the one to hire the job out to somebody.

Whether it had been Sean Wallace, Amanda Wallace, both of them or neither of them, I-Bar still believed that getting his hands on Amanda Wallace would be the move that best allowed him to change this game in his favor. He picked up his cell phone, mentally willing it to send him a notification that Amanda Wallace's plane was on the move to someplace where he would have his chance.

I-Bar turned his attention back to Splint and Q-Tip, "Find out if any car services in the metro area have ever sent a car to drive either Amanda or Sean Wallace." Looking at the time on his computer screen, he added, "Most are probably closed now, but some may service the airport and be twenty-four seven operations, so start with those and save the rest for first thing in the morning."

***

Sean fell onto the hotel room bed just after 3AM. The same code word check in procedure that he had used previously worked for him at another of his hotel properties, this one in Albany, Georgia. Prior to going to bed, he had texted the location of the hotel to Rick Acosta and asked him to select a rendezvous point for 10AM in the morning where Sean could obtain the items he had asked Acosta to acquire for him. 

Amanda called to wake him at 8AM per the message he had sent her the previous evening. He hadn't known where he would be sleeping when he had sent the message to her, but he had known that he didn't want to start this day any later than eight in the morning, but more important was that he wanted to start the day with the sweet sound of her voice.

"I get to see you today!" Amanda bubbled once Sean had answered his phone.

"And I get to see, hear, smell, taste and touch you today Mrs. Wallace. How was your evening?"

"Lonely, but productive. I spent several hours reviewing the driver handbook preparing for the written test..."

"That's right! You're going to take your driving test today. I wish I could be there with you, but I'm sure you'll pass with flying colors."

"I wish you could be there too Sean and I would wait for you if I could, but we both agreed with the lawyers' recommendation that I get the driver's license as soon as possible. Moe and Ben will drive me to the testing location and make sure that all the required documentation passes the scrutiny of the personnel there. I don't anticipate any problems. How was your evening?"

"A bit longer than I had hoped for. I had to pick up a few things from the house in John's Creek, and then I stopped for a few minutes to watch some people try to swim..."

"I hope they were better swimmers than those men down in the Atlanta area who drowned last night. A terrible tragedy according to the television news. Apparently they all tried and failed at risky dives into a backyard pool."

"People need to learn that some risks are not worth taking," said Sean.

"I couldn't agree more Mr. Wallace. What time do you want me to meet you, and do you still want to stay at Prestonwood?"

"Let's stick with the plan to meet at Prestonwood tonight around seven. It's more secure, and I will be able to focus on my wife on our one week anniversary."

"It is so sweet of you to remember Sean," Amanda laughed. "However, since you did remember, I guess my surprise for you won't be as much of a surprise as I had intended."

"Well maybe I have a surprise for you too, and I assumed that you would remember. Tell me what Gail has arranged to get you safely to Prestonwood?"

"She wasn't certain it would be Prestonwood until you and I had a chance to firm up the plans. I know she has Samuel standing by to pick me up from the airport, and she has assigned one of her people to ride with me and Samuel. I believe she is confident that the unplanned nature of the trip reduces the risk factor as she calls it."

"I'll keep you posted on my schedule. If I can pick you up from the airport myself, I'll let you know."

"Please do. Take your time though. I know your meeting today is very important and I wouldn't want you rushing things on my account."



"Okay. Speaking of which, I need to check and see if Acosta has replied to my message and then get showered and ready for the meeting. I won't be able to talk on the phone for significant periods today, but please send me a text after your test to tell me how everything went."

"I'll do that Sean. I love you, and good luck."

"I love you too Mrs. Wallace, and good luck to you."

Sean got out of bed, started the coffee maker and powered on his laptop before heading to the bathroom. When he returned to the room, there was enough coffee brewed for a single cup and his computer was at the login screen. He poured coffee then retrieved his cell phone from the bedside table and read Acosta's message. Once he knew the details for when and where he would meet Acosta, Sean relaxed in front of the computer to check the morning news stories from Atlanta.

***

DeMarcus Steele was woken by the sound of his cell phone. Noticing the time first, he then opened the message he had received to check it.

"Hot damn!" he whispered to himself, a flight plan for Amanda Wallace's plane had been filed fifteen minutes ago at 8:39AM. Reviewing the details of the notification, he saw that the scheduled departure time from Sumner County Airport was for today at 4:00PM, with an estimated arrival time into Peachtree-DeKalb Airport of 6:15PM. He didn't remember his flight taking over two hours, but then he remembered the hour of time he lost due to the time zone change between the two airports.

Before he could begin thinking of how he would be able to utilize this information, his cell phone rang. Checking the caller ID, he saw that Mota was calling.

"What's up?" Steele asked when he answered.

"DeMarcus my friend, do you remember how unimpressed you and Kim were with my warnings about Sean Wallace?"

"Was unimpressed and I remain unimpressed," said Steele. "I did find out that those dudes who got toasted in the fire you had mentioned were involved in some actions against Sean Wallace, so if he somehow learned of them he might have paid someone..."

Mota's laughter cut of DeMarcus' reply. Once it had subsided, Mota apologized, "I'm sorry Steele, but I find your ignorance very humorous..."

"I will not tolerate your disrespect much more, Mota. Say what you want to say then I'll deal with Sean Wallace once I have Amanda Wallace to draw him out of hiding."

"You won't have to find Sean Wallace, Steele. He is coming for you."

"Can you say anything without making a fucking suspense movie out of it? What are you talking about?"

"Why are people who have attacked Sean or Amanda Wallace suddenly dying in mysterious accidents, Steele?"

"You're assuming that Sean Wallace found out about Minor Ellis burning down his cabin..."

"You can be certain he did, just as he knew that Jun Kim was the one who sent the men to his offices in an attempt to kidnap Amanda Wallace. Kim was killed last night along with two of his guards. The authorities are operating under the belief that they all died from failed attempts to dive into his swimming pool. The two guards into the shallow end of the pool, resulting in both having broken necks and Kim by jumping off his balcony and hitting the deck instead of the water. Force Recon Marines are specialists at killing enemy combatants in a way that keeps the presence of American forces hidden for as long as possible. I'm convinced that these 'accidents' are the work of Sean Wallace."

"If you're so fucking afraid of Sean Wallace, then go crawl into a cave or something. By seven tonight I will have Amanda Wallace in my arms and Sean Wallace by the balls – or what he uses for balls."

"I'm interested in how you plan to get past the security that is certain to be all around Amanda Wallace right now."

Steele couldn't resist bragging about his plan to capture Amanda Wallace once her flight arrived this evening. Mota listened without comment. When Steele was done describing his plan, Mota simply hung up.

DeMarcus describing his plan to Mota only served to increase his excitement over it. He called Splint and Q-Tip, instructing them to be there in thirty minutes.

***

Acosta was waiting in the visitor lot at the Marine Corps Logistic Center Albany when Sean arrived. The corporal on duty in the guard booth observed him park the camper next to Acosta's car, but did not give them much further notice. Sean thought it ironic that one week earlier to the day, he and Amanda had been in this same location picking up Mickey, involving her in the circumstances that would eventually lead to her death and the reason for him being back today.

Sean had parked the camper in a spot between the guard booth and Acosta's car. When the two men met between the vehicles, they would not be visible unless the guard exited his booth and moved several yards towards the street. He and Acosta had discussed this arrangement in advance, so Sean was not surprised to see Acosta already out of his car and standing near the passenger door of the pick-up truck by the time he had walked around from the driver side.

"I hope these do the trick," Acosta said as he handed a plastic grocery bag to Sean. Looking inside, Sean saw three gallon size clear plastic zipper bags with the items that he had requested.

"How fresh are they?" Sean asked.

"Less than an hour," replied Acosta. "I had a spot already scoped out, so all I had to do was execute once they crossed my path. I could have gotten more, but I know that wouldn't have fit into the scene you are painting for this."

"Thanks," said Sean. "You could head back to Atlanta now unless you want to hang around to monitor the aftermath."

"Your uncle would have my hide if I didn't remain here to cover your back. I don't think you'll need it, but Kirby is Kirby."

Sean laughed, "That he is. I'll text you as soon as it's done. My car still in the visitor lot of the Sheriff's office?"

"Just where you left it," confirmed Acosta. "Leave the truck there and I'll take care of it as soon as I know you have cleared the area."

"Sounds like a plan." Sean shook Acosta's hand, opened the passenger door to the truck and threw the grocery bag onto the seat, then walked around and got back in the driver seat. He heard Acosta starting his own car and waited for him to pull out before he followed, turning south once more.

Sean had not reached the southern city limits of Albany when he received a text message on his cell phone. He pulled into a gas station to check the message. It was from Monica.

"A Stephan Mota is requesting you call him as soon as possible. He says he has important information for you concerning Mrs. Wallace. Do you want his number?"

Sean typed a reply and pressed "send", "I don't have time right now. Tell him I can talk to him tomorrow." Sean actually did have plans to 'meet' with Stephan Mota tomorrow, but not for the reason Mota might think.

A response from Monica came quickly, "He said that you needed this information on Mrs. Wallace immediately or it might be too late. He said she was in danger."

That message changed everything. He quickly typed a reply, "Give me his number."

The text response from Monica came formatted so that Sean merely had to tap on the number listed for the phone to automatically dial it. It was answered after one ring.

"Thank you for calling Mr. Wallace. I wish we could be having our first conversation under better circumstances..."

"Amanda," Sean said. "I'm not interested in anything out of your mouth that doesn't concern her."

"Fair enough Mr. Wallace. I have learned that Jun Kim and DeMarcus Steele have been formulating a plan to abduct Amanda Wallace. Kim's objective was to use her as leverage against you. Steele's motivation is much more personal and poses the greatest risk to her life. You and I both know that Kim is no longer a factor in these plans, but Steele has just told me that he has an opportunity today to capture Mrs. Wallace while she is traveling..."

Sean listened to Mota describe the plan that Steele had related to him earlier. His fear subsided as the details were laid out. He knew that he had time to do what he needed to do and still get to Atlanta in time to deal with DeMarcus Steele.

"Mr. Mota, I expect you to contact my secretary immediately if you hear anything further concerning Mrs. Wallace. Can you do that?"

"It would be an honor to assist you with protecting Mrs. Wallace."

"You may not realize it Mr. Mota, but you just saved your own life."

"I believe you Mr. Wallace. Thoughts of you have been haunting my dreams for days."

"You seemed to have no problem falling asleep at your desk last night."

"Why did you choose Kim over me?"

"I don't know what you are talking about Mr. Mota, but I strongly recommend that you return to your South Texas place of birth while you still have your health. Goodbye."

***

His Remington Model 597 Rimfire twenty-two caliber rifle held sentimental value to Sean, but he knew it was the right weapon for his purposes. He had learned to shoot with this very rifle, after it had been presented to him on his twelfth birthday by his Grandfather Askew. Sean could not count the number of squirrels, rabbits and other small animals that he had shot with this very gun, but he had used it most frequently for target practice to improve his overall marksmanship skills. 

The scope he was now attaching to it would not be left behind with the rifle, but he knew he would never use this particular scope on another rifle. It would be his reminder of what he sacrificed on this particular mission. The scope would imply that the target had been intentional, which is just the opposite picture that Sean wanted to paint.

The angle of the sun was not ideal, and Sean had selected his location to minimize the risk of any reflection from the glass on the scope catching the eye of the guards in the towers. He had been lying in his shooting position, twenty feet inside the tree line since just before noon. 




Heavy Traffic Ch. 18



The rise of the ground beyond the right-of-way cleared for the high-voltage electrical lines placed his prone body approximately fifteen feet above the ground level in the prison yard. The electrical lines ran along the northeast edge of the prison, providing the guards with a clear line of sight for escapees, but Sean was well beyond this field of vision, obscured by the native trees and shrubs.

At exactly 1:33PM, the door from the cellblock opened and Major Ellis led his gang out into the exercise yard. Sean had no difficulty identifying the man from the tattoo of a crown around his bald head. The man was obviously anxious and agitated based upon the wary movements of the other prisoners around him. 

Sean was pleased to see Major lead his gang directly to the outer section of the yard. He apparently wanted to start his meeting earlier than Acosta claimed was normal, but this was fine with Sean. The sooner his business here was completed, the sooner he could be heading back to Atlanta, and Amanda.

Major Ellis' mood had him pacing rapidly around a small section of the yard, with his gang trying to stay close enough to hear his lowered voice, yet far enough away to give this enraged tiger some space. Sean had his target lined up within seconds of him exiting the building, and now followed him around the yard waiting for the opportune time for his shot.

The day was muggy, with no wind for Sean to factor into his targeting. The ballistic drop of the bullet would increase in this weather, but that actually benefited Sean's aim from his position. His only timing consideration involved what was behind Major Ellis when the shot was fired. He wanted the bullet to hit someone else as well as the primary target, but not fatally.

His finger pulled the trigger almost reflexively as soon as his mind had registered the proper time to shoot. The single shot struck Major Ellis just below his left ear, tearing through his neck and then entering the shoulder of the man directly behind him at the time. The Velocitor did its job, severing the left jugular vein before also fatally damaging the carotid artery and coming to rest against the clavicle of the next body it met.

As pandemonium broke out in the prison yard, guards naturally turned their attention onto the prisoners rather than the surrounding countryside. Sean had already placed the two squirrels and one rabbit onto the ground near where he had taken the shot, so all he had to do to complete the scene was to remove the scope from the rifle and then drop the gun next to the dead animals.

Sean felt some regret for the scrutiny that all the local teenage boys - and possibly a few girls – were going to receive over the next few days as authorities searched for the owner of the gun that had fired the stray shot while hunting small game near the prison. It had to have been an accident, because no competent assassin would choose to use one of the least expensive 'starter' rifles, let alone a twenty-two. The recently shot squirrels and rabbit provided further proof that the death of Major Ellis was due to nothing more than a tragic hunting accident.

Twenty minutes later, Sean was exchanging the pick-up camper for his own Volvo XC-90 in the parking lot of the Sheriff's office. If everything went without a hitch, he would be at the airport to meet Amanda's flight.



Heavy Traffic Ch. 19



Gail Bennett was not excited about letting her protectee drive herself, but she did understand Amanda's desire to celebrate obtaining her driver's license. The escort car led the way with four agents inside, and Amanda had promised to stay close enough to it so that no other car would be able to insinuate itself between her car and her protection. The trail car that Gail was driving had three additional agents, but her years with the Secret Service made her overly cautious.

The escort vehicle drove past the guarded gate to the Wallace estate, allowing Amanda to enter, followed by Gail Bennett. Amanda drove past Jeannie Sexton's car in the driveway and proceeded to park her own car in the six bay garage on the side of the house. She retrieved her messenger bag and entered the house through the mudroom beside the kitchen.

Carol Wallace was talking to Jessica in the kitchen, but when she saw Amanda enter, she immediately walked over to her and gave her a hug. "Congratulations! Moe called and shared the great news about you getting your driver's license. We're all so proud of you."

Amanda laughed, "I don't know why everyone seems so surprised, I have been driving one sort of vehicle or another since I was eleven."

"It probably has to do with how intimidating it is for people to drive on the other side of the road than they are used to, and their respect for how quickly you have mastered it. Have you got a minute to chat?"

Amanda glanced at the clock on the oven, "One or two quick minutes is all I can spare right now. Jeannie is waiting to fly me to Atlanta. Sean and I are celebrating our one week anniversary tonight."

"That's wonderful," said Carol. "Tell you what, why don't you take these two lists with you on the flight? One is Beth's invitation list for the wedding, and the other is my list of invitations for the reception. We want to make certain that we have included everyone that you and Sean want at each event."

Beth had insisted on assisting Amanda with the arrangements for the wedding since she was essentially living at Prestonwood for the time being and was better prepared to negotiate with the florists and other vendors that the wedding would require. Carol had likewise insisted that Amanda let her assist with the reception for much the same reasons as Beth had given. The missions that her and Sean were conducting, along with the plans to merge their two companies had consumed her time, which made the offers of Beth and Carol irresistible for Amanda.

"Thank you Carol. Are we still on schedule for the wedding to take place on a Saturday and the reception the next afternoon? I know that many businesses will not want to deal with Sunday, so if it is too much of a problem for you, then we can change things."

"A Sunday afternoon reception here will be no problem dear, I assure you. It will be a bigger challenge getting people to leave before Monday morning."

Amanda laughed and Carol joined her. "Thank you Carol. I'll look over the lists and share them with Sean for his input. We'll let you and Beth know if we want any changes."

Carol hugged Amanda once more and said, "That will be fine dear. Have a safe flight and kiss Sean for me."

"I will Carol. Thank you again for all your assistance. If you need anything, remember that Nina is available to you anytime. She doesn't know about the wedding, but she does know that we are planning a reception for people who could not be at the wedding, so use her as you see fit."

"I will dear, now get going."

Amanda found Jeannie waiting for her in the foyer. Jessica had apparently brought down the bag that Amanda had packed earlier, so she had no need to go back upstairs.

"All set?" asked Jeannie.

"It would appear so," said Amanda as she followed Jeannie out to her car, stowing the messenger bag and her one other bag into the trunk once Jeannie opened it.

As they drove through the gate, Gail Bennett and her entourage of agents fell in behind Jeannie's car. Amanda paid them not mind as she addressed her pilot, "Jeannie, this is a special night for Sean and I, is there weather or anything else that might delay our arrival into Atlanta?"

"No weather issues are foreseen, but the President is due to arrive into Dobbins Air Force Base this afternoon, so there may be some air traffic delays if we arrive around the same time. I'll get an update once we take off, and I'll try to get us cleared for landing before Air Force One is in the area."

"Just do your best please. If we arrive early, I won't mind waiting at the airport for Samuel, or better yet Sean to pick me up."

Jeannie accelerated slightly, "I can't fly you there faster until we get to the plane, so hang on."

Amanda laughed at Jeannie and made an exaggerated gesture to hold onto the dashboard, which in turn made Jeannie laugh. They were still finding things to make them laugh as they boarded the plane fifteen minutes later. 

***

Samuel Baldwin was sitting on a bench at the Simonize car wash off Peachtree Industrial Boulevard when his cell phone rang. He was watching the workers drying off his car. He wasn't fastidious about the exterior cleanliness of his car, but its dark color did seem to show every speck of dirt, and he wanted it looking good for Amanda Wallace.

The caller ID showed that it was his house calling, and the only person who could be there was his wife, although it wasn't normal for her to be there at this time of day. "Hi Lily. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Sammy, you need to come home." The fear in her voice was foreign to Samuel. His wife Lily was usually unflappable. For this reason, he didn't question her request.

"I'm on my way," he assured her, then hung up and called his dispatch to let them know he would off duty until further notice. 

***

Sean saw the Chattahoochee County Sheriff's car sitting in the center median just north of the junction of Clarke Duncan Highway and US 280. He was traveling north on US 280 towards Columbus, Georgia, where he would pick up interstate 185 north. He hadn't reached the outer limits of Fort Benning yet, but every current and former service person knew that the local law enforcement agencies frequently targeted the roads around military bases with speed traps. Sean had his cruise control set for five miles over the speed limit, but glanced down at his speedometer almost as a reflex while passing the patrol car.

Sean was about a quarter mile behind a pack of cars travelling at approximately the same speed as him, but he instinctively knew that him being a solitary male of military age would single him out from the crowd. His instincts proved correct as the Sheriff's patrol car pulled off the median and began its pursuit of his vehicle. Sean was already in the right lane, so he pulled into the next roadside business' parking lot before the patrol car had closed to within a distance that would make him the obvious focus of the flashing lights.

As expected, the Sheriff's car pulled in behind Sean's. The lone deputy remained in his vehicle while customers of the video rental business that Sean had pulled into glanced between it and Sean's car as they entered and exited the store. 

After waiting five minutes for the deputy to exit his car and approach him, it finally dawned on Sean what the holdup was. In order to put as many cars in the field as possible, many law enforcement agencies had adopted a single officer per car plan. This approach broadened the placement of manpower, but also required that a second car be dispatched when a single officer felt that backup would be prudent. 

With Fort Benning being home to some of the most specialized Army units, it made sense to Sean that no deputy would willingly face an Army Ranger or Green Beret alone if he didn't have to. His suspicions were confirmed ten minutes later when a second Chattahoochee County Sheriff's car pulled in behind the first. Sean watched in his mirrors as the deputy in the second car got out and walked behind the first patrol car and along the passenger side until he was at the right rear quarter panel of Sean's car. His hand was on his holstered gun as he waited for his partner.

The deputy in the first car finally opened the door and exited the vehicle, leaving the door open as he approached Sean's driver side window. Sean had already lowered the window, and retrieved his insurance card, registration, and driver's license while waiting for the deputy. He had these in his lap as the deputy approached his window and spoke.

"Good afternoon, may I see your license and proof of insurance." Sean handed the requested items to the deputy without comment.

The deputy reviewed the items to make certain that they all showed the same contact information. Satisfied with their authenticity, he addressed Sean once more, "Do you know how fast you were going?"

"I wouldn't be a very responsible driver if I wasn't aware of my speed at all times, deputy. However, absent mile markers to determine distance and a stop watch to determine time, I have to assume that the speed I set on my cruise control and what I read on my speedometer are correct."

"Well, all I have to judge your speed is the latest technology laser, which registered your vehicle at eighty three miles per hour in a sixty five zone."

"I don't question that your laser registered that speed, deputy, but I do question it registering it on my vehicle."

"I don't see any base tags. You keep your car off Benning?"

Sean laughed, "I wouldn't be caught dead on an Army base. I'm ex-Marine."

The deputy smiled at that. "I understand sir. Please excuse me for a few minutes. I'll be right back with you."

Sean watched in his mirrors as the deputy walked to the back of the car where his partner met him. The two deputies conversed for a few minutes before the first deputy returned to his car to run a check on Sean's information. The second deputy remained at the rear of Sean's car, but had assumed a much more relaxed posture.

Sean took the opportunity to check his text messages and to send a few of his own. Rick Acosta was keeping an ear open on the situation at the prison, but reported nothing that contradicted the scene Sean had painted with the evidence left behind. There was always the chance that some over-zealous investigator within one of the local law enforcement agencies would see a conspiracy in the accidental deaths of Minor and Major Ellis within days of each other, but he was confident that his role would never come to light.

Hearing the two deputies talking, Sean glanced from his cell phone to his mirrors to see the second deputy returning to his vehicle as the first deputy was approaching Sean's window again. He set his cell phone onto the passenger seat and waited for the deputy to arrive.

"Mr. Wallace," the deputy was handing Sean's driver's license and other documentation back to him. "Everything checks out. Please keep your speed within the posted limits and I'll let you off without even a written warning."

"Thank you deputy. I appreciate your professionalism. Be careful out here."

"Thank you sir, I will. Have a good day."

Sean started his car and was pulling back onto the highway while the deputy was still returning to his own car. Within minutes, he was driving past two more speed traps with two different agencies manning them. This was just a divided highway, which didn't have any controlled access such as an interstate highway would, but Sean knew that it made no difference in Georgia. Local law enforcement had jurisdiction over all roadways in their respective town, city or county. Even on interstates, local law enforcement frequently competed with the Georgia State Troopers for traffic violations in order to raise local revenue.

Checking the time, Sean saw that the brevity of that traffic stop had still put him behind his schedule by almost half an hour. He groaned as he saw the traffic slowing in front of him. He was wondering what the cause of the slowing was when he saw the temporary traffic signs on both shoulders of the road, "DUI CHECK POINT - PREPARE TO STOP". 

***

Jefferson Ashe greeted Samuel inside the entryway of the Baldwin house, "Give me the keys to your car, then you can go join your wife in the kitchen."

Samuel didn't comment or question the orders. The gun that this man held didn't influence his decision as much as his desire to see his wife did. He handed over the keys and walked past the man towards the kitchen. His wife stood at the kitchen sink talking to two white women who were sitting at the breakfast table. One was a red head and the other was a brunette, but both wore too much make-up for daytime. Both women held guns, but neither appeared overly threatening, and even smiled at him as they saw him enter the kitchen.

"Lily, what's going on?"

"Sammy!" Lily Baldwin dried her hands and rushed over to embrace her husband. "I'm glad you're here."

The man who had greeted Samuel came into the kitchen and was obviously in charge, "Mr. and Mrs. Baldwin please sit down at the table across from Lettie and Coco. I'll explain what's going to happen next."

As Samuel led Lily over to the table, the brunette extended her hand to him and said, "Hi, I'm Coco, this is Lettie."

Samuel and Lily shook Coco's hand, followed by Lettie's. They then took a seat as instructed. Glancing out the window to their patio, Samuel saw three young black men sitting around the table out there smoking. 

Lily noticed his glance and said, "I asked them to smoke outside. They didn't want to, but Mr. Ashe insisted."

"Call me Blaze," Jefferson Ashe said. "That's what all my friends call me."

"We're not friends," said Samuel.

"Either you're my friend or you're my enemy," replied Blaze. "You do not want to be my enemy."

At an athletic six feet seven inches in height, Jefferson "Blaze" Ashe was a handsome, well groomed and articulate black man. His tailored suit looked expensive, and Samuel believed he could easily be mistaken for a business professional, but judging by the appearance of the two women sitting across from him, Ashe's business was the oldest profession on Earth.

"What do you want?" Samuel asked.

"I simply need to borrow your car for a few hours. My ladies here, as well as the boys on your patio will remain here while I'm gone in case you need anything. As long as we remain friends, we'll be out of your house as soon as I return."

Samuel didn't respond, and his squeezing of Lily's hand told her not to respond either. Blaze nodded to his two ladies before leaving the kitchen and heading for Samuel's limo in the driveway.

Blaze took the southern portion of the perimeter loop around the western portion of the Atlanta metro area until he reached exit fifteen. He then took that east to I-Bar's house as he had been instructed. He thought it would have been faster to cut through downtown, but the directions were explicit and he had learned years ago not to deviate from any instructions I-Bar gave. 

His loyalty and obedience is what provided him with the position within I-Bar's organization that he now held. Blaze had the privilege of recruiting and managing the higher class prostitutes in I-Bar's stable. He treated the ladies well, kept them off drugs, protected them, and seldom had to discipline them more than once. His infrequent need for violence did not diminish his willingness to use it when necessary. I-Bar had called upon him several times to provide people with a false sense of comfort based upon Blaze's appearance, only to find themselves in a world of hurt when the true message from I-Bar was delivered by his messenger, Blaze Ashe.

Q-Tip met Blaze as he pulled the car up to the house, "Jes hang here. I-Bar an Splint be out in a minnit."

As the message was delivered, Blaze saw I-Bar and Splint exiting the front door, both dressed in business suits. Splint indicated that he was supposed to drive, so Blaze got out and went over to the front passenger seat. I-Bar stopped to chat with Q-tip before he took the seat in back, directly behind Splint. "We have twenty minutes to get to Peachtree-DeKalb Airport," said I-Bar. "Go through Buckhead. We're less likely to run into any road closures."

"Road closures?" asked Blaze, turning in his seat to look at I-Bar.

"Yeah, the fucking President is flying into town and they always close roads and overpasses along his travel route to wherever he's headed. The closer you get to either the place where he lands or the place he is headed, the longer you can expect to be delayed. I once got stuck on Delk Road for almost two hours when the last President came to town."

"Got it," said Blaze. "So everything is still planned as we discussed?"

"Fucking right," said I-Bar. He handed something to Blaze, "Put this in your right ear and run the wire under your collar. It doesn't plug into anything. It's for appearances only."

Blaze inserted the ear piece into his right ear and pushed the wire under his collar. I-Bar reached over the seat and handed Blaze another item, "Pin this to your left lapel."

Blaze took the little pin and examined it before pinning it to his suit jacket as instructed. It was a tiny volunteer fireman's badge, but at a distance it could pass as any official emblem.

I-Bar checked the flight progress of Amanda Wallace's plane on his cell phone as they continued towards the airport. Timing was going to be close unless the flight got delayed for some reason.

***

Sean was relieved to finally get to the checkpoint to find it just being setup. Traffic had slowed due to the activity, but no cars were being stopped yet. He had wondered who they had expected to catch being under the influence before 5PM on a mid-week day, but running the checkpoint from the early evening until around midnight would definitely nab a few drunken soldiers.

As he passed the checkpoint, he accelerated along with the other cars on the road. Within fifteen minutes he had transitioned onto interstate 185. Approximately forty miles from there he would merge onto interstate 85 and take that the rest of the way into Atlanta.

The presence of patrol cars continued through Muscogee County, but Sean stuck diligently to the posted speed limit and was unaccosted. However, five miles inside Harris County Sean encountered that Sheriff Department's first speed trap. He was still traveling at the posted speed limit, but watched his mirrors in frustration as the patrol car pulled off the center median and turned its roof lights on almost immediately after Sean had passed it.

Sean moved to the right lane and began searching for the next exit. He slowed and kept his right turn signal on to let the patrol car know of his intentions. Apparently the deputy driving was unfamiliar with Sean's intentions, because he hit his siren several times to get Sean's attention. Sean waved out his window and continued a mile and a half to the next exit. He turned right at the end of the ramp and pulled into a gas station with the Sheriff's patrol car right behind him.

Unlike the previous stop, this deputy had no reservations about facing an unknown driver alone. Sean watched as the deputy took no time in exiting his patrol car and approaching the driver's side of Sean's. 

Images of a younger version of Buford T. Justice from the movie "Smokey and the Bandit" flashed into Sean's mind, and he had to stifle a laugh as the deputy spoke, "Don't you know you're suppose to pull over boy when a police car has its emergency lights on?"

"I don't know how much more pulled over I could get deputy. I'm off the road, sitting with my car in park, and you're standing still beside me. That seems pretty pulled over to me."

"Listen smart ass, it took you more than a mile to pull over after I lit you up. I could arrest you for refusing to obey a police officer..."




Heavy Traffic Ch. 19



"You would only embarrass yourself if you did. I can see the dash camera in your car and I know that it activates the second you initiate a traffic stop. You have more than a mile of video showing me acknowledging you and signaling that I was pulling off at the next exit. I have now stopped off the freeway, in a location where you can safely approach my vehicle without noise from passing vehicles or the chance of you being struck while out of your own vehicle. So you go ahead and arrest me for demonstrating concern for your safety."

"Well aren't you the considerate little soldier. You have any idea how fast you were going Mary Poppins?"

"Yes I do," said Sean. He waited for the deputy to respond to his answer.

The deputy obviously thought that Sean would blurt out a confession to traveling faster than the posted speed limit, so he waited several seconds before continuing, "So how fast were you going... what is your rank? You look like a buck private to me."

"I was driving at the posted speed limit, and I left the United States Marine Corps at the rank of Captain. Any other questions deputy?"

"Well Captain Mary Poppins, show me your license and proof of insurance then we'll see if I have any more questions for you."

Sean handed him the requested items and waited as they were examined by the deputy as he remained in place beside Sean's car. Sean's cell phone began ringing as he sat there. Before he could answer it, the deputy spoke, "Don't go talking on your phone while I'm conducting business with you."

Sean saw the caller ID indicating the call was from Gail Bennett, so he ignored the deputy and answered the phone. The deputy reached in and hit the disconnect button on Sean's steering wheel before either Sean or Gail could say anything. 

"You don't listen very well boy. I said no talking on the phone while I am conducting business with you. Someone should teach you to respect the law Captain."

Through gritted teeth, Sean said, "I have the greatest respect for professional law enforcement. If you ever want to join that team, I'll respect you as well."

Sean's phone rang again, and he answered it as before. As the deputy reached in to try and disconnect the call, Sean caught his hand and applied thumb pressure at the correct location to cause more numbness than actual pain. He released the hand and the deputy quickly pulled it out of the car, stepping back and shaking his arm and hand trying to recover some feeling in it, cursing as he did so.

Sean rolled up his window and locked his doors, but he made no attempt to drive away. He then turned his attention to Gail Bennett on his phone, "Sorry Gail, I have some distractions at the moment. What's up?"

"I understand, and I'm sorry to bother you, but my agent assigned to escort Mrs. Wallace from the airport is still waiting for the driver to pick him up. He was supposed to have been picked up thirty minutes ago so that they were at the airport well in advance of the plane landing. I have contacted the car service and they report that the assigned driver called in and took himself off duty for some unknown reason. There is another car on the way to pick up my agent, but he will obviously arrive after Mrs. Wallace lands."

"Get a hold of Amanda and tell her not to leave the plane until I get there," Sean said.

"That very message has been relayed to the pilot. I'm sure everything is fine, but I wanted you to be aware of these developments."

Sean checked the time once more. Amanda was due to land in less than fifteen minutes and he was at least ninety minutes from the airport. He needed to get back on the road. "Thanks Gail, please keep me posted." He disconnected the call and opened his car door.

The deputy was still trying to get some feeling back into his right hand so he couldn't get his gun out of its holster as Sean rose from his car and pulled something from his back pocket. Sean took the deputy's left forearm, again applying pressure to a location that commanded compliance and began leading the gasping man back to his patrol car. With his left hand, Sean held up the Federal law enforcement badge that his uncle had supplied to him so that it was clearly visible to the deputy as well as the dash camera in the patrol car. He positioned the deputy and sat him behind the steering wheel of his patrol car before releasing his grip, removing his license and insurance card from the breast pocket where the deputy had placed them and stepping back.

"You will regain feeling in your hand and arms within the next ten to fifteen minutes," Sean said. "Sorry that I have to pull weight on you deputy, but as you can see, I am a Federal agent and I can't tolerate your delaying me any longer. Now, you will be defenseless until you get the use of your hand and arms back, so I'm going to turn your car on, set the air conditioner, and then lock the doors so no one else can get in to bother you in the meantime. Have a nice day."

Sean returned to his own car, and was back on the freeway heading north within minutes. The farther away from Fort Benning he traveled, the more comfortable he was with increasing his speed. By the time he reached the transition onto interstate 85, he was able to maintain a speed of seventy five miles per hour, which was only five miles over the posted speed limit along this stretch, and should be safe enough to avoid any further encounters with local police.

***

While Splint drove, I-Bar alternated between monitoring the progress of Amanda Wallace's flight and giving instructions to Q-Tip back at his house. Tracking the flight was a passive activity, while his plans for Amanda Wallace once he had her were very dynamic, and I-Bar wanted them to be perfect.

One of I-Bar's enterprises was his music production business, which in the last decade had evolved into producing music videos to promote the rap and hip-hop CD's the artists were trying to sell. Q-Tip was left behind to supervise the setup of the lights, microphones and video equipment that I-Bar wanted in place well before the time came to use it with Amanda Wallace.

He was going to take his time with this bitch. I-Bar hadn't decide yet if he would share her with any of his men, or in what fashion he might share her, so he gave this some thought as the car entered the airport. He instructed Splint to find a spot along the curb outside the World Wings terminal. 

The tinted windows on the car would make it nearly impossible for anyone to see him sitting in the back seat. After instructing Blaze on where he wanted him to stand on the outside of the car, and making sure that Amanda Wallace would be recognized by his man, he moved deeper into the seat as far from the rear passenger door as he could, spun the leather collar he had brought and waited for his prey to come to him. 

***

Amanda listened as Jeannie communicated with approach control and knew that they would be landing soon. As she had promised Carol, Amanda had spent most of the flight reviewing the two guest lists. She would need to go over them again with Sean, but she only had one person on the wedding list that caused her any real concern - the President of the United States. It would be impossible them to have the small, private and unpublicized wedding they had discussed if the President was invited. She wondered whose idea it was to place his name on the list.

Putting the papers and other items she had removed for the flight back into her messenger bag, she felt the nine millimeter pistol sitting in it and remembered that she needed to get a holster of some sort for it. She considered the inside of the bag and decided that it wouldn't be too difficult to have a leather insert sewn into it that would nestle the gun along one side of the bag, leaving it more accessible than it was sitting among the loose articles. In the meantime, she adjusted the Velcro strap that held her laptop against the side of the bag so that there would be enough slack to slide the pistol under it as well. Not perfect, but better than anything else for now.

Amanda had just set the bag back down when she heard the plane's landing gear lowering. She looked out the window, and as had been the case for most of their flight, all she could see were clouds. She watched the clouds as the plane descended through them, using the vaporous image to take her mind off other things, and to focus them on Sean. She hoped that he was there to meet her. She craved him when he wasn't with her, and she knew that he felt the same way about her. She considered calling Sean on his cell phone, but decided to wait to see if he was waiting for her at the airport first.

"We're about twenty minutes ahead of Air Force One," yelled Jeannie. "They had to navigate around the worst of this weather, so we'll be able to land before the air space gets closed down."

"Excellent," said Amanda. "Thank you Jeannie."

When the plane had descended below the clouds, Amanda noticed that there were raindrops on the windows. She imagined that they had started while they had been in the clouds, but she hadn't noticed them against the background. Off on the eastern horizon she saw the sky was much darker, except where the clouds would suddenly brighten with obvious lightening.

They flew out of the rain and landed on a dry runway, but by the time that Jeannie had parked the plane and shut down the engines, the rain had caught up with them. She sat and waited for instructions from Jeannie, who was still talking to someone on her radio. Glancing out the window once more, Amanda saw no other activity at the airport. No planes were preparing to take off, none were visible in the sky preparing to land, and no one was visible around any of the planes or equipment on the ground. It looked quite eerie under the darkening skies.

Jeannie stood up from her seat and approached Amanda, "We don't want to wait in the plane as originally planned. Lightening will be over us soon, along with some gusty winds. I'll open the door so that you can make a run for the terminal. I'll close up the plane and meet you inside."

Amanda retrieved her messenger bag and her one other piece of luggage and followed Jeannie to the door of the plane. Jeannie pulled the lever to open the door and allow the stairs to lower. The air outside was warm considering how dark the sky had become, but Amanda remember Jeannie had told her that this weather front was the remnants of a tropical storm that had landed along the South Carolina coast the day before. 

Jeannie patted Amanda on the shoulder to signal that it was okay to exit the plane. Amanda quickly descended the stairs and walked quickly towards the terminal where the door was being held open for her by Caleb.

"Good to see you again, Mrs. Wallace," Caleb said in greeting. "I believe there is a car waiting for you at the curb."

"Thank you Caleb." Amanda strode to the window at the front of the building and saw Samuel's car sitting at the curb just as Caleb had mentioned. Samuel wasn't visible, but Amanda could tell that the car was running and the man standing on the passenger side of the car certainly looked like one of Gail's agents.

"Please thank Jeannie for me and let her know that my car was here, so I left. If Mr. Wallace shows up, please tell him that I'll meet him at our agreed location."

Without waiting for a reply, Amanda opened the front door and began hurrying towards Samuel's car. She was met half way there by Gail's' agent holding an umbrella for her and leading her to the curbside back door. He kept the umbrella over her head as she bent to enter the car. The sudden pain from the slap that hit her face before she had fully entered the car made her stumble so that she fell onto the floor in the back rather than the seat.

"Hello bitch. Welcome to your own personal hell."

***

When Jeannie finally entered the World Wings terminal and saw only Caleb, she wasn't immediately concerned. Caleb was on the phone and Jeannie assumed that Amanda Wallace was in the women's restroom. Jeannie carried her flight bag to the pilot's ready room and made use of the attached restroom to dry her hair and blot as much of the rain off her uniform as possible.

Entering the lobby of the terminal building ten minutes later, Jeannie saw that Caleb was still on the phone. Amanda Wallace wasn't visible, but a strange man stood inside the glass doors surveying the area as if looking for someone. 

When he saw Jeannie he said, "I'm looking for a Mrs. Amanda Wallace. Do you know if her flight arrived yet?"

"May I ask who you are?" asked Jeannie as she moved to position herself between this man and the restrooms.

The man pulled an ID badge from his breast pocket and affixed it to the lapel of his windbreaker, "My name is Mike Estep. I work for Brandt Consulting and have been assigned to pick up Mrs. Wallace and escort her to her destination."

"Oh, okay," said Jeannie. "I believe Mrs. Wallace is in the restroom..."

Hearing this exchange, Caleb placed his hand over the mouthpiece of the phone and said, "Sorry Jeannie, Mrs. Wallace wanted me to let you know that her ride was waiting for her, so she was going to leave. She left before you came in from the tarmac."

"Oh crap," said Jeannie. Turning to Mike Estep she said, "You better notify Gail Bennett that Mrs. Wallace left before you got here. I would hate to be Gail when she tells Mr. Wallace that his wife is in the wind."

Mike Estep pulled out his cell phone and called Gail Bennett. Jeannie and Caleb could judge the reaction on the other end of the phone by how quickly Estep pulled the phone away from his ear after updating Gail Bennett on Amanda Wallace's disappearance. The call was blessedly short, but Mike Estep made no move to leave when it ended. He motioned for Caleb to hang up his own phone.

"I'll need any description you can provide of the car that Mrs. Wallace left in..."

***

Amanda made a move to climb onto the back seat as the car exited the airport but DeMarcus Steele placed his shoe onto her shoulder and pushed her back down.

"Bitch dogs don't ride on leather seats," he snarled. "You can stay there on the floor where you belong. Here bitch, move your head over her where I can reach it."

When Amanda didn't move, DeMarcus grabbed a handful of her hair, causing her barrette to fall out onto the floor as he yanked her toward his lap. He pressed her right check against his thigh and held her head in place with his forearm as he fastened the leather dog collar around her neck. A significant portion of her hair was captured between the collar and her neck, but he made no attempt to release any of it.

Amanda was frightened, but not the most frightened she had been in her life. That time had been when she and the girls had been taken by the traders, and her fear then was for the girls rather than for herself. She had been unarmed and alone then. Now she had her gun still with her, but more importantly, she had Sean. She might have to endure some pain and humiliation until DeMarcus Steele met his downfall, but it would be worth it to be there at the end.

When DeMarcus released her, Amanda sat back onto her haunches, released the hair caught beneath the collar and smiled at DeMarcus, "Good to see you again DeMarcus. It seems that you are in a playful mood today."

"Oh I'm going to play," laughed DeMarcus, "but this will be my game bitch, and you ain't going to have no fun at all."

Amanda tilted her head and smile coquettishly, "Why DeMarcus, we've never had a chance to discuss what would be fun for me."

DeMarcus ignored her obvious attempts at flirtation. "Where's Sean Wallace?"

"I expect that Sean will be along any time now. Why do you want to know about Sean? He won't be any fun for you at all. Just ask Minor Ellis, his father Major, or Jun Kim. Oh, that's right, Sean has already visited them so you can't ask them."

"Even if I believed that Sean Wallace did arrange for the accidents that occurred to the men you mentioned, I have one advantage over them - I have you." DeMarcus handed her his own cell phone, "Call him."

"Oh DeMarcus, I don't think that would be a good idea. Sean is already pretty mad at you..."

"Get that pussy on the phone now or I'll shove this phone up your pussy and dial it from there myself."

Amanda giggled, "DeMarcus, you are so funny! Here, give me the phone and I'll call Sean for you if you feel that strongly about speaking with him. I'll need to look his number up on my phone because I have always just dialed him from the contacts and I don't know his number."

DeMarcus considered this for only a second before changing his order, "Call him from your cell phone and hand it to me."

Amanda returned his cell phone, then reached into her messenger bag to retrieve her cell phone. She contemplated pulling her gun and shooting this animal, but decided to wait and see how things developed. She could tell that he was vacillating between anger, confusion and curiosity. She found Sean's number then pressed the 'dial' icon on the display. She handed DeMarcus her cell phone as she heard the first ring of Sean's.

Sean answered immediately, "Hi Amanda, have you landed yet?"

"Oh she landed exactly where I wanted her," replied DeMarcus.

"I'll see you shortly Mr. Steele," said Sean, then he terminated the call on his end. The steering wheel creaked beneath his grip of rage.

***

Sean restrained himself from taking his frustration out on Gail Bennett when he answered her call seconds after the call from DeMarcus Steele.

"Mr. Wallace..."

"I already know Mrs. Bennett. I'll ask my uncle to deal with you later, but for now all I want from you are GPS location updates for Amanda's phone sent via SMS messages to my cell phone every five minutes until I tell you otherwise. Do you understand?"

"Will do, and I'm sorry this happened," Gail said. "Let me know if there is anything further you require from this end."

Sean didn't answer, he just disconnected the call and search his call history for another number and dialed it.

"Mr. Wallace, how may I assist you?" asked Stephan Mota.

"I'm considering having flowers delivered to DeMarcus Steele. Would you happen to have his home address?" 

"Certainly my friend. What's the occasion, if I may ask?"

"His funeral."

***

DeMarcus was poised to hit the dial icon again when he decided that it would probably just be a waste of time. Sean Wallace continued to act like the scared little pussy that he had always known him to be, so he would focus his attention on Amanda Wallace and get her to convince Sean Wallace to come out of hiding.

He placed Amanda's cell phone into his pocket then slapped her face again. He knew how to slap a woman so that the blow was more shock than pain, and never left a mark. "Get your head back over here in my lap bitch."

"Oh that sounds promising, DeMarcus." Amanda placed her right cheek against his thigh. Her left cheek still stung slightly from his last slap, and this position gave her more visibility to the inside of the car. She felt DeMarcus moving her hair on the back of her neck and then heard a slight click as he attached something to the collar. 

Amanda sensed the car slowing and then stopping. They hadn't been driving that long, and the last sight she caught of their surroundings, they were in a mostly commercial area with no houses visible. She felt DeMarcus shift to look over the front seat and out the windshield.

"Why we stopping?" he asked Splint.

"Da poleese hab da bridge ober da freeway blocked," said Splint.

"Fuck!," growled DeMarcus. "Mus be da Prezdint's motocade. Can we go anudder way?"

"We kinda boxed in here now," said Splint.

"If we have to cross this freeway," contributed Blaze, "any other road over or under it will also be blocked. Is there a way back to the house that doesn't cross the freeway?"




Heavy Traffic Ch. 19



"Weed hab to drive so far nort or south dat it would be miles for we got round it," said DeMarcus. 

Amanda was having a difficult time understanding much of the conversation until DeMarcus spoke directly to her, "Well, if we're going to be stuck here for a while we might as well start your training. Take your pants off bitch.

***

Sean had dreaded the very possibility that he would hit the Atlanta metro area during rush hour, and now he found himself in just that situation. Fortunately, he didn't have to drive through the downtown area, but instead transitioned onto the interstate 285 perimeter loop just south of the Atlanta international airport and took this north.

The traffic was more go than stop, and Sean used the brief periods of standstill to keep monitoring the text reports Gail Bennett continued to send him on Amanda's location. The GPS signal had been stationary for almost half an hour before it started moving again, and Sean said a silent prayer of praise for whatever the traffic situation was that had delayed her transit.

Sean took the required exit from the freeway and sought out the southernmost parking spot he could find at Sweetwater Creek State park. He would travel on foot from there.

***

Amanda didn't regret her choice of panties. They had been selected for Sean, and she taunted DeMarcus with that fact as he ran his finger underneath the elastic waistband, and then along the seams around her upper thighs. "I hope you like them DeMarcus. Sean doesn't like panties that are more revealing, but if those are your preference, I'll wear something different for you next time."

DeMarcus silently pulled the panties down her thighs and smacked Amanda's exposed ass with the end of the leash attached to the collar. His shifting in the seat revealed that his arousal was causing him discomfort. 

Amanda derived no pleasure from causing this man's arousal, but she did take pleasure from taunting him. "I know that I expressed disappointment in your physical attributes, DeMarcus, but there are other ways that a man can please a woman..."

"Pleasing you is no longer interesting to me," DeMarcus said. "You will be my bitch and exist solely for my pleasure. Let's start with you licking my shoes like a good bitch." DeMarcus pulled on the leash to position Amanda's head over the spot where his shoes rested on the floor of the car. "I'll let you start with the top of the shoes. We'll save the bottoms until after I've walked in some dog shit or something tasty for you. Lick them bitch!"

With her panties bunched up around her knees, Amanda had to slide her knees across the rough carpet on the floor of the car in order to maintain balance as DeMarcus pulled on the leash. The resulting carpet burn was painful and Amanda knew it would leave very visible marks on both of her knees. This made her madder than the idea of licking this bastard's shoes. 

The sudden motion of the car as it began moving distracted DeMarcus from her humiliation. "Step on it now Splint, I want to get this bitch home."

Pulling on the leash to pull her head away from his shoes, DeMarcus continued steering Amanda's head until he had her in the place he wanted, and then he roughly pushed her into a sitting position with her back against the door opposite his. He reached down and removed her panties from her legs, leaving her fully exposed below the waist.

"Spread your legs bitch. I want your knees as far apart as you can get them."

Amanda felt the messenger bag folded along her right side. She slid her hand inside to find the comforting grip of her pistol, and once she had that, she complied with DeMarcus' demands.

"We only have a few minutes before we get to my house. If you haven't pissed by then, I'll have Splint and Blaze piss on you once we get there. Understand?"

Amanda did not urinate in the car, but simply sat there with her hidden pistol in her hand, smiling up at DeMarcus. He paid her little attention during the rest of the drive, spending his time on the phone with one person or another, giving orders. That was fine with her. While she was not overly modest, she loathed exposing herself like this to a man who took pleasure only from the humiliation he hoped it inflicted on a woman.

DeMarcus was still on the phone when the car came to a stop and the engine was turned off. This seemed to catch his attention, because he quickly ended the call and opened his door. "You just stay sitting there bitch until I come for you."

"Please don't keep me waiting too long DeMarcus. I have a feeling the fun is going to be starting soon."

"Keep an eye on her Blaze. Me and Splint will make sure that Q-Tip has everything ready for the bitch."

Blaze came around the car and stood outside the open door that DeMarcus had just exited from. The interior lights in the car shown down on Amanda as she remained on the floor with her legs spread. Blaze made no attempt to disguise his interest in what was on display. Amanda made no attempt to cover up.

"If you last beyond tonight with I-Bar, maybe I'll add you to my stable of girls. You could do well for both of us."

"I'm flattered," said Amanda, "but I know that DeMarcus won't survive the night, and if you're with him, your future is also in doubt."

Blaze laughed and said, "We'll see."

DeMarcus came back out of the house and approached the right back door that Amanda was leaning against and opened it. Amanda had leaned forward to avoid falling back when her support was removed, so DeMarcus had to reach around her to grab the leash still attached to her collar. He held the leash in one hand while using the other to pull her out of the car to stand beside him. Closing the door on his side and motioning for Blaze to do the same, DeMarcus took Amanda by the elbow and began leading her towards the front doors of the house.

"Can I have my bag?" she asked.

"You won't need it," DeMarcus told her as they were joined at the front of the car by Blaze. "As soon as you step into the house, you get on your knees and start walking like the bitch dog that you are."

Naked from the waist down, Amanda was led through the front doors where the tug on the leash pulled her down so she had to get on her hands and knees to avoid falling. Once in that position, she was practically dragged by the leash as DeMarcus ran around the house with her in tow yelling, "Good doggy, good doggy."

The hard marble floors were bruising her knees, but when DeMarcus started pulling her up the carpeted stairway, the existing rug burns got aggravated to the point that tears were prickling in Amanda's eyes by the time she was pulled into DeMarcus' office. 

Pushing his desk chair aside, DeMarcus pulled Amanda around behind his desk. Pulling on the leash to force her head as high as it would go with her hands and knees still on the floor, DeMarcus pointed to the computer on his desk.

"Now you're going to log into your own bank and transfer fifty million dollars to me. That will cover the more than thirty million you stole from me, plus enough interest to teach you and that pussy Sean Wallace never to fuck with me again. Do it now bitch or your tight little asshole will suffer the consequences."

Remembering the condition that Mickey was in after this man had tortured her, but also remembering that Elliott had set up a clone of her bank using the Brandt Consulting application in case DeMarcus had questioned her liquidity to make the deposit she had claimed yesterday, Amanda complied with DeMarcus' demands by now logging onto the fake version of her bank.

"I'll need your account number that you want the money transferred to," she told him.

DeMarcus pushed her aside, changed the amount of the transfer to sixty million, then entered his account information and executed the transaction. Not to be fooled again, DeMarcus logged into his bank and verified that the transfer showed "pending". He knew it wouldn't complete until the next business day, and he would call the bank in the morning to make sure it was actually there.

Sprawled on the floor where DeMarcus had pushed her, Amanda was finding it harder to control her anger. The problem was, now that she didn't have her gun available to her, she would have to find some other way of taking DeMarcus, and possibly his men down if Sean didn't show up before things got too serious for her.

DeMarcus reached down, placed a hand under her arm and helped Amanda to her feet. "Most bitches don't crawl down stairs too well and end up hurting themselves, so you can walk on your two feet down to the kitchen with me." DeMarcus took the end of the leash in one hand and yanked on it to get Amanda moving in his wake.

Amanda was forced to follow DeMarcus down the stairs, but he always kept several steps ahead of her so that the angle of the leash pulling down on the collar had her slumped over with her head down as she followed her master. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Amanda expected DeMarcus to make her get back down on her hands and knees, but he just continued walking, pulling her along behind.

Entering the kitchen, Amanda noticed the man named Blaze leaning against one of the counters drinking a bottle of beer. He held the bottle in mock salute to her but said nothing as DeMarcus led her to a stool and told her to sit on it. The moment she took a seat on the stool, DeMarcus tied the end of the leash to a hook above the island where she sat. He then placed a metal dog dish filled with water in front of her.

"Drink up bitch. You won't get another chance until tomorrow.

"Thank you, but I'm planning on having a lot of wine at dinner, so I don't want to have it diluted with mere water."

DeMarcus roared with laughter, and Blaze spit out the sip of beer he had just taken in. Once recovered, DeMarcus picked up the water dish and emptied it into the sink.

"Suit yourself, but I can promise that there won't be any wine for you tonight. Some whining is likely, but no wine." Blaze laughed again.

DeMarcus walked over to the counter next to the stove and picked up a cellophane wrapped item. He brought it back to the island and placed it in front of Amanda. On closer inspection, Amanda recognized a large ham bone was inside the cellophane wrapping.

"I got my bitch a present," said DeMarcus. "Go ahead and open it up bitch."

Amanda made no move towards the bone, so DeMarcus picked it up and began to remove the cellophane from around it. "I suggest that you do your best to gnaw this bone down to a respectable size as quickly as possible, because once I'm done fucking your ass, this bone is going in it. Now take the bone in your teeth and come with me."

Amanda didn't relish the idea of losing any teeth to this bastard, so before he could shove the bone into her mouth, she picked it up and placed it between her jaws. The damn bone was heavy and placed a great deal of strain upon her jaw simply to hold it, but Amanda knew that she didn't want to drop this potential weapon regardless of how uncomfortable it was to hold it this way. She could taste the traces of rotting ham still clinging to the bone

"That's a good bitch," said DeMarcus. "Now we're going down into the basement to finish the job those European assholes fucked up. You will still have the chance to star in a snuff film."

DeMarcus grabbed Amanda under her arm and practically threw her towards the basement stairs. He maintained a hold on the leash as he began to prod her down the steps with Blaze following behind.

***

DeMarcus saw the bone drop from Amanda's mouth as she took the first step down.

He saw Q-Tip hanging upside down from a drain pipe attached to the basement ceiling. 

He saw Splint crumpled in a heap at the foot of the basement stairs. 

He saw Blaze literally fly over his shoulder before crashing into the far wall of the basement and not moving. 

He heard Amanda Wallace say "Hi honey." 

He never saw what hit him.



Heavy Traffic Ch. 20



The following chapter is the final installment for "Heavy Traffic". I truly appreciate everyone's support and patience as I submitted chapter after chapter. I learned several valuable lessons about the story submission process on Literotica along the way. I'm not sure if I will go with the chapter-by-chapter submissions in the future or revert back to posting a story in its entirety. Thanks again.

*****

Chapter Twenty

The fog that preceded full consciousness was filled with pain. The pain didn't subside as DeMarcus' wakefulness increased; it only became more intense and widespread. The brightness on the other side of his eyelids implied light, but DeMarcus was hesitant to subject his eye to it just yet. The voice suddenly speaking convinced him to open his eyes.

"We have eye movement. Tell the doctor that the patient may be regaining consciousness."

DeMarcus opened one eye to see the back of a person leaving the room before this was blocked by another person stepping in between him and the view he had. Fingers were placed on his eyelids to hold his eye open as a penlight was shone into first one, and then the other.

Finally the person spoke, "Good afternoon, it's good to have you back with us. Do you remember your name?"

DeMarcus tried to speak, but his mouth and throat were so dry that he couldn't form words.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Here, let me wet your whistle some. That should make you feel better."

DeMarcus saw that the person was a female nurse - a sister, in her forties from what he could see of her. She left the room and returned with a cup in her hand and what looked like a doctor in her wake. Extracting a stick from the cup with some sort of foam sponge on the end, the nurse preceded to use it to moisten DeMarcus' lips, tongue and inside of his mouth. She returned it to the cup of water several times to reapply more moisture until she saw saliva being formed on its own.

As soon as she had extracted the sponge, DeMarcus tried to speak again. He looked to the doctor, who stood behind the nurse reviewing a chart of some sort. 

"Where da fuck am I?"

The nurse stepped back to allow the doctor access to the patient. As he stepped up to the bed to examine DeMarcus he said, "You are at Grady Medical Center. You have been unconscious since you arrived a little over two weeks ago. Can you tell us your name?"

"My name is DeMarcus Steele. How da fuck did I end up in dis hos spit toll?"

"We were hoping you could tell us, Mr. Steele. You apparently experienced a serious industrial accident of some sort. Whoever provided the initial medical treatment definitely saved your life. Do you remember the accident?"

"What accident? What chew talkin bout? All I know is I wakes up here, hurtin like a fucker and can't move my arms or legs. You gots me tied down or sumtin?"

"Mr. Steel, if you don't remember the accident, then I have the sad duty of informing you that you lost both arms, both legs, and your genitalia somehow. As I mentioned, you had received emergency medical care of the highest quality before you were brought here by two men who claimed to have found you in this condition. You were unconscious upon your arrival, due apparently to the concussion you suffered during the accident, which also explains why you may not remember it."

"You shittin me," said DeMarcus, but as he started focusing on the areas of pain all over his body, he became frightened that the reality of his situation might just be as this doctor described it. 

His head hurt worst than he had ever experienced. The pain in his shoulders didn't extend down any further, and as he turned his head to look at each shoulder, he gasped when he saw nothing attached to either, not even the barest stump of an arm existed beneath the bandages. 

The position in which he was laying prevented him from seeing farther than his stomach area, so he asked to be raised. The nurse walked around to the other side of the bed and used the controls to raise the head of the bed several inches.

His lower body was covered in a sheet. "Can you pull da sheet down?" he asked.

The nurse glanced to the doctor who nodded. She then carefully began folding the sheet down the bed until what remained of DeMarcus Steel's body was fully exposed to him. As his glance moved down his body, he saw only a clear tube with what looked like piss in it extending from the bandages between where his legs used to be. The hose ran to a plastic bag attached to the side of the bed. As with his arms, there was no trace of even a portion of his legs remaining, almost as if they had been severed at the hip itself. 

"Dat bitch!" screamed DeMarcus.

The nurse and doctor stumbled back at the sound of rage from the patient even though they both knew that they had nothing to fear from this man. No one would ever fear this man again.

***

The nurses drew straws to see who got the unenviable task of dealing with DeMarcus Steele every time he required attention of any sort. Meals were the worst because his mouth still worked and he frequently used it to spit some or all of his food at the nurse trying to feed him. Even when bathing him, the nurses learned to avoid getting too close to his mouth, because this patient was a real 'biter' if given the opportunity. There was unanimous agreement that the nurses liked this patient much better when he was unconscious, and they jokingly asked the doctors to put him into a medically induced coma every chance they had.

DeMarcus Steele had been awake two days before he received his first visitor. Spenser Brown walked into the room just as "Good Morning America" was signing off for the day, pulling a chair behind him. He had obviously been informed that there were no chairs in the room for visitors, so had come prepared.

"Bout time some un come visit me," DeMarcus said to his lawyer.

Brown pushed a button on the remote control to mute the television. "No one is allowed to visit you DeMarcus. Didn't they tell you that you are under police protection? I wouldn't be here myself if a Federal judge hadn't appointed me your attorney of record. You know I don't take Pro Bono cases."

"What da fuck you talkin bout, 'Pro Bono'? I pays you damn good to represent me when I needs you."

"Any retainer you paid was used up trying to fight the seizure of your assets by the Feds. When those actions failed, you became legally and officially indigent. If I hadn't been forced to take you on by the Federal judge, you would be meeting with a Public Defender right now."

"Maybe you better splain things," said DeMarcus. "Start wif dis seizure bullshit."

Brown pulled out a folder and reviewed it before speaking, "You were delivered here to the hospital by Herman 'Splint' Caster and Gordon 'Q-Tip' White in a car driven by Jefferson 'Blaze' Ashe. Immediately after depositing your body in the entrance to the emergency room, these three men drove to the Federal Building in downtown Atlanta and sought a meeting with the U.S. Attorney. They were requesting immunity from prosecution for testimony against you related to an organized crime organization that they allege you head, including proof that you personally ordered the rape, torture and murder of a Federal law enforcement officer."

DeMarcus growled deep in his throat, but no intelligible words were emitted, so Spenser Brown continued, "Two days later the U.S. Attorney had convened a Federal Grand Jury, seeking indictments against you under the Racketeer Influence Criminal Organization Act, or 'RICO' Act as it is more commonly known, and a first degree murder indictment for the death of Special Agent Michelle Anderson. A Federal judge had already issued a search warrant for your home where evidence was collected for presentation to the Grand Jury. The indictments were returned in less than three hours. The Feds then immediately began seizing all your property and assets as having been derived from the criminal activity. I tried to get stays to these proceedings, but with the Grand Jury indictments already in place, there was little I could do."

Before DeMarcus could respond, two more men and a woman entered his room. The men were in suits, and the woman wore a business-style dress that made her look more male than female. The men took positions on either side of his bed while the woman stood at the foot. All of them nodded to Spenser Brown, and then stared at DeMarcus as if waiting for him to introduce them to each other.

"I assume you're all here for some reason," DeMarcus said.

The man closest to the window spoke first, "DeMarcus Steele?"

"What's left of him," DeMarcus answered.

The woman spoke next, "Mr. Steele, I am Detective Romo with the Atlanta Police Department Crimes Against Persons Division." She held up her badge and identification for him to view. "Have you been able to remember what caused the injuries that brought you here?"

"The last thing I remember is starting down to the basement of my house..."

"Were you alone at the time?" the Detective asked?

DeMarcus knew better than to reveal who had been with him and the circumstances at the time. He glanced towards his attorney before answering, "Some of my associates were in the house."

Checking her notes, Detective Romo read, "Would that be a Mr. Jefferson Ashe, a Mr. Gordon White and a Mr. Herman Caster?"

DeMarcus nodded, "Blaze, Q-Tip and Splint."

"Those three men disavow any knowledge of how you received you injuries and claim to have found you in your current condition."

"Let me talk to dem. I think dale member diffint."

The man closest to the window spoke again, "You may not speak to these men. They are Federal witnesses in the criminal indictment I have prepared against you Mr. Steele. My name is Scott LaBlanc, Assistant United States Attorney. Has your attorney explained your rights to you, Mr. Steele?"

DeMarcus looked at the man with a combination of confusion and contempt. Scott LaBlanc might still have a thirty three inch waist, but it was placed below at least a fifty inch stomach. Compared to the other man, who remained silent on the opposite side of the room, LaBlanc was a sad physical representation of a man.

"Why you chargin me wif anything? I'm da victum here."

"Do you understand your rights Mr. Steele?"

"Yes I fukin unnerstan em," screamed Steele. "Whys you hassling me?"

"So you do remember what happened?" Detective Romo asked.

"I don't need to member nuttin but me layin here wif no fuckin arms an legs to knows I was da victim. You think I did dis to myself?"

LaBlanc interrupted before Romo could respond, "DeMarcus Lamont Steele, you are charged with the kidnapping, rape and murder of a Federal officer. Do you recognize these items?"

LaBlanc held up two clear plastic evidence bags for DeMarcus to examine. One held an automatic pistol. The other held a badge wallet. He recognized both, but didn't need the advice of his lawyer to know that he should say nothing.

"After you were dropped here by your associates, they came directly to my office to confess a whole range of sins and legal transgressions by you in exchange for clemency. All three were interviewed separately, and all three named you as the person who instigated the actions against Agent Michelle Anderson which led to her death. The testimony of these three men was sufficient for me to obtain Federal Grand Jury indictments against you and a search warrant for your house. These items were discovered during the course of this search, so I'll ask you again; Do you recognize these items?"

DeMarcus glanced towards Brown before answering, "No."

"Do you have an explanation for your fingerprints being on both items found in your personal office at your house Mr. Steele?"

Once more, a quick glance towards his lawyer before answering, "No."

"Do you know why trace amounts of blood, identified through DNA tests as belonging to Federal Agent Anderson were found in the basement of your home?"

"No."

"Do you know the current whereabouts of one Tom Folsom?" asked Detective Romo?

"No."

"The Bibb County Sheriff's office will want to discuss his location with you once their divers pull his remains from the location your associates provided for where you disposed of him at Lake Tobeskofkee, The bullet that allegedly killed him has already been recovered from a house in Bibb County, and a ballistic test confirms it was fired from Agent Anderson's service weapon, which was found in your house with your prints on it."

LaBlanc took over again, "I wouldn't worry yourself, or what's left of yourself about a state murder charge. "I'm going to make certain that your helpless body spends the rest of its worthless life in a maximum security prison. The President has taken a special interest in your case, even demanding that the Attorney General request a specific Federal judge to preside over your case."

"And I'm going to make sure you spend your time face down so your ass is exposed to every other scumbag in there with you." These words were spoken by the other man across the room.

"Folks, I must object to this harassment of my client," interjected Spenser Brown.

DeMarcus turned to face the man who had spoken for the first time. "Who da fuck are you?"

"I'm with the Department of Homeland Security. My name is Kirby. Kirby Wallace." 

***

"Don't you got nuttin I can put in my mouth or sumtin to at lease allow me to push da buttins on da remote?" DeMarcus asked one of the nurses. "You bitches always putting on some soap ahprah shit den turnin da volume up so loud I can't even sleep thru da borin shit."

It had been one month and six days since DeMarcus had regained consciousness in the hospital. Once the doctors were sure that there were no infections, he had surgery performed to suture the skin over the wounds in his shoulders and hips. DeMarcus didn't consider it surgery since they had refused to give him any anesthesia and he had to endure every puncture of the needles wide awake. That had been minor torture compared to how the nurses continued to treat him.

The nurse surfed through the available channels until she found a French cooking show, then turned the volume up and set the remote back on the table next to the bed. 

"Unless the court authorizes physical therapy for you, we cannot provide any assistive devices or aids for your physical limitations. Sorry Mr. Steele, but if it's any consolation, your wounds have healed to the point where I believe the doctors will be issuing your discharge papers within a day or two."

"Where da fuck dey gonna discharge me to?" screamed DeMarcus.

The nurse finished tending to his urine bag and other necessities as she calmly responded, "To the prison hospital at the U.S. Penitentiary Atlanta, I imagine. You were convicted last week after all."

DeMarcus remembered all too well. He hadn't been allowed to be in the courtroom, but had been presented to the court and the jurors through a video feed that showed only his head and face. The prosecuting attorney had argued, and the fucking judge had agreed that showing his dismembered body to the jurors would be prejudicial. 

DeMarcus had been muted in the courtroom, so no one got to hear his shouts of outrage as Splint, Blaze and Q-Tip testified about his operation and what he himself had done to that Anderson bitch in an attempt to get her to reveal the whereabouts of twenty five young girls that he had arranged to have brought to this country illegally.

The images of the courtroom that were shown to DeMarcus didn't allow him to see all the people present, but he did get to see enough to know that Amanda Wallace didn't appear to be present. After DeMarcus had explained to Spenser Brown about having Amanda Wallace in his house the night he was injured, they had discusses why her abduction and the trafficking of the girls weren't included in the charges against him. He thought that she would at least show up in the courtroom, maybe even with that pussy Sean Wallace but he never saw her.

The only visitor that DeMarcus had seen since he was advised of the indictment against him had been Spenser Brown. The lawyer and client were both amazed at how fast the case against him was brought to trial, and while Brown had tried every strategy he knew of, the Federal judge assigned to the case rejected all arguments for a postponement of the trial. Brown would challenge the haste of the proceedings in his appeals of the conviction, but he was not keen on presenting his own inability to prepare a timely defense as justification for a reversal of the conviction. The prosecutor had been diligent in making certain that all evidence and transcripts of depositions were provided as soon as they were processed, so Brown had no one to blame but himself for not having the time required to prepare for trial.

Not that it would have made much difference. Splint, Q-Tip and Blaze had been irrefutable in their testimony, and the facts that they each relayed were substantiated not only with physical evidence but also by the testimony of each other. DeMarcus kept trying to get Brown to arrange a deposition with any or all of these men that he could participate in, but his physical limitations and recovery prevented his transportation out of the hospital and the judge refused to order that the Federally protected witnesses be placed at risk by requiring their depositions be taken anywhere other than at the Federal courthouse under protection of U.S. Marshals.

Spenser Brown could not provide DeMarcus with the reasons why three of his most trusted associates were turning against him so severely. Questions related to the motivation for their confessions were objected to by the prosecutor and upheld by the judge. DeMarcus believed that the three men were being coerced, threatened, or influenced by something, or more likely someone and he strongly suspected that it involved Amanda Wallace in some way.

Try as he might, DeMarcus could not remember what had happened to him after he had entered the doorway to his basement, which was another reason that he wanted to speak to Splint, Blaze and Q-Tip. DeMarcus really wanted to know who Amanda Wallace had help her and how whoever it was knew where to find her. He didn't delude himself into believing he would be able to do anything about it now. He was nothing but a brain and the necessary internal organs to keep it alive, but that brain could still think, scheme, and hate.

***

DeMarcus was awakened by the sound of his television being turned off. He had eventually learned to sleep with the thing on, but his sleep patterns were erratic. 

If the nurses thought they were taunting him by leaving the crappiest shows they could find playing twenty four hours a day, then they hadn't yet grasped how fitful his sleep was due to the dreams.

The beast in his dreams was real - DeMarcus had no doubt of that. However, it never had a face and moved like smoke in a strong wind; shapeless, silent, strong and swift. As his senses returned from his latest version of the dream, he realized that he was not alone in the room. 

With the television off, the only light was through the small viewing window in the doorway. The hallway was bright with light, and DeMarcus took comfort from seeing one of the policemen who had been guarding his room since he had arrived. He usually resented the cops being there, but right now, he welcomed them.

A man stood on the opposite side of the room, in front of the shade darkened window. DeMarcus couldn't make out his features, yet he knew that the man was studying him closely.

"Who da fuck are you?" DeMarcus demanded, but there was no answer.

"How'd you get pass da cops?" Still no answer.

"Listen cocksucker, either you tell who you are an whatchu wan, or I'll call the cops to come slam you ass." 




Heavy Traffic Ch. 20



"Mr. Steele, my wife will be joining us in a few minutes and if I hear one word out of your mouth in her presence that doesn't reflect gentlemanly respect for a lady, then your tongue will join the rest of your appendages in the sewers of Atlanta. Do we understand each other?"

The voice was calm, and while not exactly cold, it held firmness that DeMarcus had never heard another man use in speaking to him. Bravado failed DeMarcus Steele. Adrenalin fueled fear could manifest itself only in his voice, "If you come near me, I'll call the poleese outside."

"They won't come," the man replied in the same calm, even tone. "They work for me. I have paid off-duty police officers to guard your room since you arrived here. I have also been paying for your room and medical care, which will cease tomorrow when you receive your medical release. Then my taxes will be paying to keep you alive in prison."

DeMarcus had to call this dude's bluff, "Help! Police! Help me!" he screamed as loudly as he could. He could see one of the policemen step up to the doorway window and glance inside, then laugh and turn away. He was about to yell again when another shape appeared at the doorway window, opened the door and entered.

As the overhead lights came on, DeMarcus blinked at the sudden brightness, but more so at the person who had turned them on. A smiling Amanda Wallace closed the door and walked towards the man near the window, addressing DeMarcus as she passed the foot of his bed.

"DeMarcus, why all the fuss? I was just checking with your nurses on your condition before visiting with you." Reaching the strange man, she kissed him and said, "You two get introduced yet?"

"Not formally," Sean said. "The last time we met, Mr. Steele was in no condition for formal introductions."

"Well then, allow me. Sean I would like to introduce my friend DeMarcus Steele. DeMarcus, I would like to introduce my husband, Sean Wallace."

"You," whispered DeMarcus. "It was you dat did dis to me wassint it?"

"No," replied Sean, "I did not do this to you."

"He didn't, DeMarcus," Amanda said. "Sean wanted to kill you and make it look like an accident. He's very good at that you know. However, I told Sean that I considered you entertaining, and your associates needed an incentive to change their own wicked ways, so Sean agreed to spare your life."

Seeing the confused expression on the face of DeMarcus Steele, Amanda took Sean by the hand and led him to the foot of the bed to stand beside her. 

"I suppose you don't remember much of our evening together DeMarcus, so let me bring you up-to-date..."

DeMarcus glanced from Amanda's eyes to Sean's and knew at once that this man was not the pussy everyone had told him he was. If DeMarcus had arms and hands, he would have pulled the covers up over his head to hide from the sight of this man's piercing eyes. Unfortunately, he was forced to bear the look of the beast from his dreams.

"I assume you remember picking me up at the airport and the drive to your house?" asked Amanda. 

When DeMarcus just nodded, she continued, "What you didn't know DeMarcus is that I had this with me during the entire drive." Amanda removed her nine millimeter automatic from her purse and held it for DeMarcus to see. "I could have shot you at any time prior to leaving the car at your house."

"Why didn't you?"

"Because she was saving you for me," answered Sean. 

Amanda kissed Sean on the cheek before returning the pistol to her purse and addressing DeMarcus again, "I told you that Sean was already pretty mad at you, yet you never gave humiliating me a second thought. You never considered how seeing me being treated like a dog would affect Sean. In fact, you never expected to see Sean because you thought him a coward. Isn't that right DeMarcus?"

"You were supposed to be the bait that lured him to me," said DeMarcus. "I expected to see him eventually. How did you find us so fast?"

"I won't go into detail on the technology," said Sean, "but suffice it to say that Amanda was tracked at all times. Stephan Mota also assisted me with the location of your house."

"Mota?" Did he have an accident too?

"Not yet," said Sean. "Mr. Mota suspected what I was doing and made a deal to save his life. He has abandoned his operations here in Georgia and retired to an undisclosed location for health reasons."

"Anyway," said Amanda, "where was I? Oh I remember... You made Sean madder than I had ever seen him. I was afraid the kick to your head he delivered had killed you, but fortunately I could still feel a pulse from your unconscious body."

"You kicked me in the head?" DeMarcus asked Sean. "The doctor said that the blow that caused my concussion was probably due to me being hit by a car or some other large machine-powered device, like a robotic arm in a manufacturing facility."

"I won't take credit for it beyond this room, but yes I kicked you unconscious," admitted Sean.

"Now I can finally tell the police who did this to me," said DeMarcus. "Let's see how you like being in jail..."

"That's not going to happen, Mr. Steele." Sean stuck out his tongue, pointed at it, and then pointed at DeMarcus. He could see that the message was received. Amanda saw it too.

"Oh DeMarcus, don't let that happen. A severed tongue is such a messy thing to bandage," she said with a smile.

Sean removed his cell phone from his pocket and said, "Then there's this video showing what happened to you and who did it." 

He started the video playing and positioned it so that DeMarcus could clearly see the screen. It was a heavily edited version of the film that Sean had made, using the same video equipment that DeMarcus had arranged to video tape his planned treatment of Amanda. It showed only the relevant sections of the event he had wanted to capture. There was no sound of the event, with a music track overlaid onto the video. 

After five minutes, the video had ended and DeMarcus was at least five shades lighter than he had been when the video had started.

"All of them?" he asked. "Why would they do that to me?"

"They understood it was you or them," said Sean. "This video is also the reason that your three associates disavowed any knowledge of what happened to you, and so willingly testified against you in court. First, the video shows them dismembering your body, which would land each of them in prison for the rest of their lives. Then there is the image of what was left of you to remind them that the same is still possible in their own futures if they ever cross me again. Finally, if you still think you can blame me, there are the numerous Secret Service logs that will show that Sean and Amanda Wallace were having dinner with the President of the United States the evening that your injuries occurred."

"What happened to the sound?" asked DeMarcus. "That song sounded familiar, but there weren't any words."

Amanda giggled, "I'm sorry, that was my little attempt at humor. It's an instrumental version of a song I thought that you would appreciate considering the events. Do you remember a song by a girl group in the Sixties called "My Boyfriend's Back?"

Recognition of the song came to DeMarcus and he couldn't hold back a smile of admiration for Amanda Wallace. Damn, she really did have balls! 

He turned his attention back to Sean Wallace, "So you never touched me after you had kicked me in the head?"

"For the most part," said Sean. "I performed the cauterization as each limb was removed. The process is a bit more involved with dismemberment than with simple surgical amputation, so I didn't want to trust it to your associates."

"Don't tell me that you're some kind of doctor or something," DeMarcus said.

"As a Force Recon Marine, I received Navy Corpsman training. I still carry a Corpsman's medic satchel with me when I go hunting. I've helped several hunters who have either shot themselves or been victim of a stray bullet while hunting. Everything I needed to care for your wounds was in that satchel."

DeMarcus remembered the scenes from the video, showing his arms being removed whole from the shoulder sockets and his legs from the hip sockets. No bones had been cut, but the limbs had been totally separated from the joints, with the tendons, ligaments, cartilage, muscles, arteries and veins being cut as required for the limb to be removed whole. That's why there were no stumps left.

"I applied the sterile bandages once Sean had stopped the bleeding," admitted Amanda. "While my preferred specialty was as a Pediatric nurse, I did have an extended rotation in the surgical unit, so I insisted on helping with the bandages and Sean allowed me to. You may not appreciate it, but Sean's approach probably saved you a great deal more pain. For example, he left enough skin to cover the wounds but didn't suture the skin so the hospital would be able to monitor for infection."

"Not that it mattered," spat DeMarcus. "The doctors told me that my medical plan didn't cover pain medication so all they would give me since I woke up was aspirin."

"I was your medical plan, Mr. Steele, and the doctors never told me that they were giving you aspirin," said Sean. DeMarcus saw the disappointed look and took comfort from it. Sean Wallace had obviously wanted him to experience the full pain of his injuries, but the doctors had gotten around their instructions.

"Okay," said DeMarcus, "I know how I ended up in this condition, but I would still like to know why? Why not just kill me like the Ellis's and Kim?"

Amanda looked to Sean, who simply stared down at DeMarcus Steele for a full minute before answering. "First, of course was the fact that Amanda asked me not to kill you," said Sean.

"That left me with finding a way to accomplish my objective with you still alive. You see, I couldn't leave you in a condition to ever pose a threat to Amanda or any other person ever again. I considered blinding you, but there are too many ways that a blind person can still function, so I dismissed that option. I considered ways to destroy most of your cognitive abilities so you would not be mentally capable of posing a threat, but short of a traumatic brain injury - which posed unacceptable risks to the life I had agreed to spare, the alternatives would have taken too long."

"I can see your dilemma," DeMarcus said sarcastically, "but why castrate me too?"

Sean stared at DeMarcus in confusion for only a few seconds before the tensing of Amanda next to him caught his attention. He could feel a radiated heat from her as she turned red with embarrassment.

"Sean, I am so sorry," she said as she turned to face him. "I meant to tell you, but when you came back from retrieving the car, we became so focused on getting to Samuel and Lily Baldwin that I never had the chance..."

Sean smiled at her reassuringly, "It's okay, now's your chance. What happened?"

Amanda glanced briefly at DeMarcus before providing her explanation to Sean. DeMarcus could listen, but her tale was for Sean's benefit, not DeMarcus'.

"I was still bandaging his right hip socket when you decided to go get the car from where you had parked it. His associates were secured in the sitting positions on the floor where you had placed them watching me. As I was wrapping the bandages, I kept brushing against his scrotum, which drew my attention to the rest of his genitalia. I thought about what he had planned for me, but even more about what he had done to Mickey, and all the equipment was still there..."

Sean pulled Amanda into his arms and hugged her as he said, "Prevention. I understand."

Amanda pulled back and looked up at Sean. "I wish I could say in my heart that I was motivated only by wanting to prevent him from ever raping another woman, but I knew that he was already denied that possibility by the condition he was in. I hated what he had used his sex organs for, and wanted him to know that they were despised objects. My motivation was not as pure as yours Sean. I'm sorry."

Sean pulled her back into his arms and they held each other at the foot of the bed as DeMarcus just stared at them. There was a knock at the door that drew Sean's attention. Seeing the face in the window, he held up one finger indicating he wanted the person to give him a minute.

"I'll be right back," Sean said as he released Amanda from his embrace and walked to the door. He opened it only a crack and spoke briefly with the man on the other side before closing it and returning to Amanda at the foot of the bed.

DeMarcus addressed Sean, "Do you know what Jun Kim did with Kimberly? I wouldn't want her to see me in this condition, but I'd like to know if she was okay."

Sean considered the question before answering. Steele might not like the answer, but he was the one who asked the question.

"Jun Kim sent Kimberly to work at a whorehouse in South Korea. When I learned of this I requested that the U.S. Embassy attempt to get her sent back. Embassy personnel picked her up and interviewed her at a consulate office. She was free and under no duress during this time. The report I was provided indicated that she wanted to remain there. She stated that she is being treated like royalty and believes that she has found her calling in life. She is studying to learn both the Korean and Japanese languages and is apparently in very high demand among several prominent customers of the whorehouse."

DeMarcus merely nodded in acknowledgement of what he had been told.

"We need to get going pretty soon," Sean told Amanda. He turned his attention back to DeMarcus as Amanda wrapped her fingers into his.

"Mr. Steele, as I mentioned earlier, you will be released from the hospital tomorrow. Now is the time for us to discuss the final reason why I spared your life."

"I got the message. You wanted to prevent me from ever being a threat to another person and you wanted me to suffer..."

Sean interrupted him, "Prevention definitely, suffering was a side effect of that. No, Mr. Steele, the final reason is to allow you to make amends for what you have done."

The confused expression on DeMarcus' face was comical, but Sean and Amanda avoided laughing at him.

Mr. Steele, you have hopefully learned that no matter how smart, powerful, rich, or mean you may be, there will always be someone who is stronger, more powerful, richer and meaner than you. I'm not talking about me besting you, although that is a worldly example that you probably understand, I am talking about the omnipotence of God."

DeMarcus seemed to be considering Sean's words, but the light was still out where full understanding was concerned.

"I would never imply that I received some divine message where stopping you was concerned, but I do believe that God has used select men to exact his judgment upon those He found offensive for whatever reason. The Bible is full of examples of God often selecting the most unlikely men and women to take his battle to the oppressors, sinners, or opponents of his chosen people. I have no way of knowing if God will decide to work through you in some fashion, but I do know that He would need you alive if He was to choose to do so. The only decision you need to make Mr. Steele, is whether you want the opportunity to be chosen?"

"I don't understand," whispered DeMarcus.

"Let me try to make things clearer for you. If you are transferred tomorrow to the U.S. Penitentiary, you will be defenseless. Your chance of survival will be slim to none, and the time you are alive there will be filled with abuse at the hands of other prisoners. You know this."

"My lawyer will get me some protection..."

"Don't be naïve, DeMarcus," said Amanda. "You must know by now that Sean and I have influenced everything from your medical treatment to the selection of the Federal judge who presided over your trial. Do you really think that your attorney would be able to protect your life in a Federal prison if we didn't want it to happen?"

DeMarcus didn't say anything. He just stared at Amanda Wallace, seeing once again the vindictive side of this beautiful woman. He wished he could have met her under different circumstances where they would not have become enemies. Sean Wallace was one lucky dude.

"You have another option," continued Sean. "Outside your room right now is my friend and the Pastor of my church, Bernie Calaway. He is prepared to sit with you, for the rest of the day if necessary, listening to you seek absolution and forgiveness. If you convince Bernie that your faith in God is stronger than your hate of your fellow man I will make certain that instead of the prison tomorrow you will be transferred to a half-way house where you will be housed for the rest of your life. You will be protected and cared for, but more importantly, after theological counseling you will be allowed to participate in the Prison Ministry. This will allow you to share your experiences with others, helping them to learn the lessons you have learned."

"My momma used to take me to church," said DeMarcus, almost as if trying to convince himself of a decision already made.

"Regardless of the decision you make, Mr. Steele, know that I will always be monitoring you. Sparing your life will not dissuade me from making you suffer further if you cause concern to me, Amanda, or anyone else. Whether you respect me or not, believe me or not, fear me or not - you need to have faith in something. I encourage you to select the Lord for your faith. It will grant you more peace than having faith in what I can and will do if you force me to."

Sensing correctly that the conversation between Sean and DeMarcus was over, Amanda said, "Goodbye DeMarcus. I can't envision any circumstances where I will speak with you again, so I truly hope you find peace in the Lord as Sean has suggested. Pastor Calaway is a wonderful man, and I'm sure he will assist you with a journey of faith if you give him the chance. Sean and I have to leave you now. We have a plane to catch. We were married on Saturday two days ago, but we postponed leaving on our Honeymoon until we had a chance to meet with you."

Sean put his arm around Amanda's waist and began to lead her from the room. DeMarcus seemed to come to his senses when he asked, "What do you mean you just got married? I thought you two were already married?"

Amanda paused, causing Sean to also pause as he was steering her towards the door. She turned to DeMarcus and said, "But DeMarcus, I told you several times that Sean wasn't really a husband to me. Don't you remember?"

"I thought you meant..."

Amanda didn't wait for DeMarcus to finish as she turned and left the room arm in arm with Sean. 

***

"So how many children do you think we should have?"

Sean didn't hesitate. He had been anticipating this question from Amanda since their wedding, "More than one, but less than twenty five."

Amanda laughed so hard that she couldn't hold her drink steady and had to set it down before spilling it. Fortunately she hadn't had any of it in her mouth or it likely would have come out her nose.

They were on the balcony of their suite in the Four Seasons Lodge at Koele on the island of Lanai, overlooking the reflecting pool and Pagoda. They could catch glimpses of people playing Croquet on one of the lawns in the distance, but the Banyan trees provided them with enough seclusion for their purposes, which at this moment involved drinking Mai Tai's and relaxing before dinner.

"Why limit the number to twenty five?" teased Amanda. "Why not fifty or one hundred?"

Sean reached across the space between them and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, letting his finger linger on her ear lobe for a few seconds. 

"Because we only have twenty five girls to act as babysitters," he replied.

"If you're basing the size of our family on the number of potential babysitters, then you need to also consider Beth, Carol, Wendy and possibly Nina, Emily and even Jeannie."




Heavy Traffic Ch. 20



Sean considered this, pretending to count on his fingers. "Okay, more than one and less than thirty."

Amanda gave up and decided to change the conversation, "If I could have used my pistol, I know I would have beaten you. Who uses a shotgun to shot birds anyway? How unsporting."

She had tried every argument she could think of to get the staff to allow her to use her pistol instead of a shotgun while shooting clay. At each of the fourteen stations the hotel property offered, she would argue her Olympic training requirements and every other reason she could imagine to convince them that an exception to the rules should be made for her. Being denied each time, she still lost the daily match to Sean by missing only two of the sporting clays. Of course, Sean hadn't missed any.

"Even with your pistol, Mrs. Wallace, the best you could have done would have been to tie me."

Amanda's response was halted by the ringing of the room phone. One of the reasons they had selected this hotel for the first leg of their Honeymoon was the very limited cell phone service if afforded. Land line phones still worked however, and Sean rose to go answer the one ringing behind them.

Remaining seated and returning to her drink, Amanda listened to Sean's side of a brief conversation. This was only the fifth or sixth call they had received since arriving at the hotel a week ago. They had one more week reserved here before continuing their Honeymoon journey to Australia. Their plans called for them to spend three weeks on the Wallace farm, letting Sean see Amanda's childhood home before they would head to Sydney for Sean to be introduced to the personnel at the former Wallace Holdings headquarters - now a subsidiary of Wallace Worldwide Enterprises.

Sean was back beside her, sipping his own drink again within a minute.

"Grandma Beth just wanted to let us know that the lawyers have completed all the paperwork. The name is now officially 'The Michelle Anderson Foundation for Human Rescue'. She said that the press release will be issued tomorrow, but inquiries are already starting to come in about the ability for the foundation to accept human trafficking victims identified by various agencies in the State of Georgia and elsewhere."

Amanda nodded but didn't respond for several minutes. She stared off across the hotel property deep in thought. Finally, she turned to Sean, "Do you think the publicity about the Foundation will prompt the U.S. Attorney to change his mind about his strategy?"

"He might be tempted," replied Sean. "It probably wouldn't hurt for me to send a brief message to his boss' boss. As long as DeMarcus Steele is continuing to cooperate with the prosecutions, there should be absolutely no need to bring the girls into the process."

DeMarcus Steele had been transferred to the half-way house as Sean had promised and within a day of arriving, asked to meet with the team investigating his human trafficking operation. Even though the U.S. Attorney had declined to prosecute Steele since the RICO and murder convictions had already put him in prison for life, the others involved in assisting Steele were still targets for prosecution. DeMarcus volunteered names of individuals that he had either paid or intimidated into assisting his operation, including two senior Customs officials at the Port of Columbus and three middle managers within the Georgia Department of Transportation. Trials for these individuals were scheduled to begin within the month and with DeMarcus' testimony, the need to have any of the girls appear as witnesses was suppose to be unnecessary. The U.S. Attorney already had Amanda's sworn deposition as well as her promise to return within two days if her own testimony was required.

Amanda finished her drink and took a bite of the pineapple wedge from the rim of the glass. She stood and took Sean's hand, pulling slightly to make her desire for him to stand obvious.

"You can send a message later Mr. Wallace. Right now, you need to start working on this heap of children you desire. Remember, you're the one who promised both your grandmothers that you would have me pregnant by the time this Honeymoon was over."

Sean stood and swept Amanda off her feet and into his arms. As he carried her to the bed he asked, "What about dinner?"

"Room service is scheduled to deliver our dinner in two hours. You're not the only Wallace who can plan a mission. Now, at the risk of offending your Marine Corps pride, do as they say in the submarine service and 'go silent Mr. Wallace, and definitely go deep." 

~~~