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The Entity Pt. 01

By: JPMMURPHY



This is the story of love lost, love explored, and love found in a place least expected. It is also a mystery that involves power, money, greed, and lust. While not as graphic as most here at Literotica I hope you find it an entertaining read. I apologize for the state of the work. It still needs proofing. Please vote and comment. 

JPMMURPHY 

Prologue

It was a slow process. The labored hiss of an old steam engine seemed to seep like muddy water around a blanket of darkness. The clicks and clacks of the huge machine picked up speed like a record picking up speed on an old Edison Gramophone. 

The sound slowly transformed into a faster, rhythmic, hissing sound with a soft clunk between each wheeze. 

A respirator?  

The sensation of nothingness overwhelmed. There was no hot or cold, only a soft numbness.

He tried to speak - a simple thought. 

Where am I? 

He had no feeling of chest or throat, no corporal response to guide his effort as he tried to form words and push them from his mouth. They just echoed in his mind each time he tried to speak them. Then they throbbed into a primal scream that dropped into a black abyss.

Then he tried to shrug and stretch. His terror was renewed when commands to his limbs seemed to dribble off the end of an old wooden pier into an ocean of nothingness. There were no reassuring responses from his muscles as he tried to pull ligaments tight across bones or stretch into his surroundings; no protective caress of clothing or warm sheath of sheets holding him to a bed.

A hospital. 

It must be a hospital, he thought, and felt a slight easing of his anxiety in knowing where he was. 

A respirator. Yes! The sound is a respirator, and I'm in a hospital. 

The anxiety returned with a rush as he realized he couldn't feel the rise and fall of his chest. 

And my heart? Am I alive? Have I died? 

The questions came in a rush and carried him to the edge of a black open maw waiting to consume him. 

Just then, the sound of the respirator stopped and that final thought of dying settled in his mind. Oddly, it was comforting. 

It was like the high fidelity sound of nothingness found at the end of a record just before the popping sound of the needle being lifted. 

I have died was his final thought.

*****

Another man watched the words scroll across a computer screen. Where; my heart; respirator, hospital; died.

Fingers moved swiftly across a keyboard as commands were sent.

Glancing up, he looked through the glass wall at the naked body lying on a stainless steel gurney and took note of its complacency - the total lack of response as the processor stopped in mid-stride, halting all communication yet keeping its instructions in memory.

Reaching for the phone he hit the speed dial and waited.

"It's started," was all he said before returning the phone to its cradle.

Looking at the computer screen, he stared in fascination at the words once more. Yes, I bet you do wonder where you are, he thought with a smirk. Turning to another keyboard, he typed a command. The recorded sound of a respirator stopped coming from the small set of speakers mounted on the wall inside the room where the man lay.

Standing, he stretched and arched his back, pushing his hands toward the ceiling, trying to blink away a sudden feeling of exhaustion. It had been a long haul, one of many 24-hour cycles he'd spent going through code and searching for the entry point. Searching for the human mind's Rosetta stone. 

Walking to the wall of glass, he raised his right hand, palm open, and placed it on the smooth, cool surface. Staring at the passive expression of the final victim, he wondered what was happening now, now that all activity had been suspended. Theory and previous experiments said nothing, but he still wondered. 

The hiss of an automatic door opening brought him out of his reverie.

"What is it? What have you done, Kevin?" 

The wizened old woman pushed the joystick on the armrest of her wheelchair and rolled forward. Her skin was a powdery white with blotchy liver spots forming a constellation every few inches. One eye shone a brilliant emerald green hinting at beauty long past while the other looked repugnant, un-natural, with its dull bluish covering of cataracts from edge to edge. The few wisps of hair still on her head were a dead, dry, gray. Her fingers, curled and fat - locked in the permanent clutch of an arthritic. 

When the wheelchair stopped, a little quicker than she expected, she leaned forward dangerously, as if she might topple to the floor. 

Bending her neck sharply to compensate for the deep curvature and painful stoop of her back, she fixed Kevin with a gaze that was far stronger than expected from the feeble excuse of a body her 116 years had left her with.

"So," she commanded in a scratchy, grating voice, "get on with it, you half-wit; tell me what you've done."

Kevin's face reddened as he pulled nervously on the lapel of his lab coat before moving to the main computer terminal pointing at the document he'd used to store the final words of a soon to be dead man.

With a few pushes and pulls on her joystick, she was able to lean in close to stare at the screen with her good eye. "What's this? You writing your life's story?" Her dry cackle cut like a knife as Kevin cringed under the hammer blow of the old hag's tongue. But the urge to lash out was throttled by a recollection of the size of his bank account.

"I've opened communications. Or more importantly, I woke him up."

He thought he detected an upturning at the corners of her mouth among the spider web of wrinkles that defined her face. Pulling back on the joystick, she rolled a foot from the screen and turned to face Kevin. Yes, the smile was complete and filled with triumph. She made a moaning sound that seemed to emanate from the whole of her body, more like a cat purring than human sound. With her emotions in check, she demanded the details of his achievement.

"I finished the final tests and debugging this morning. I was even able to find the audio gateway and give him some input," laughing nervously, he continued, "He's concluded he's in a hospital on a respirator."

"Good. This is good." 

Her good eye shined with excitement as she pulled on her joystick and maneuvered to the wall of glass to stare at the young body of the man she had captured in her web. "Good. Call Gerald and tell him what's happening. Tell him it's time to begin."

*****

It didn't seem like a dream. It seemed more like real life. Sadly, some part of his mind knew these things had happened to him during a life that had already come and gone. At first, he didn't understand. At first, he thought he had finally rejoined the living as he saw a pair of eyes watch him intently above a surgical mask. Being held upside down, he was astounded when he tried to contemplate what manner of normal human being was tall enough, or strong enough, to hold a grown man up by his ankles, several feet above the floor. The smack on his bottom, which released a banshee scream, told him the truth. 

What a strange thing for a grown man to dream, he thought. How odd to dream yourself a baby – not a toddler or small child, but a newborn baby, falling from your mother's womb into the hands of a doctor - a doctor that looked very much like a blurry, young, Doc Jones, his childhood pediatrician. A man that died a few years back at the ripe old age of 83.

His mother's voice caught his attention as she pulled him to her bosom and pressed her warm, swollen breast to his mouth. He suckled, contentment washing over him as the dream droned on. 

It was an incredible gift from God, he thought, as he watched every second of every day of his life unfold in real time. Things he had never recalled before, but somehow knew to be true. Dirty diapers, the first meal that came from some place other than his mother's breast, Doc Jones pulling and poking as he received his first vaccination shot, teeth coming in and diapers coming off to be replaced by his first pair of underwear.

By the time he reached five years old melancholy set in as he listened to his mother tell him how big he'd become and how important next year was. He would be leaving kindergarten and going to the first grade. Surely, this was it – the answer to the big question. 

There was no long tunnel with a bright, welcoming, light shining at the end of a tunnel. No hands of loved ones reaching for him. Not even an accusing God to send him on his way. 

One thing was certain; his life continued to flash before his mind's eye. There was no stopping it. True to form and full of all the richness and detail of life itself. He was certain his life had ended, and this was his reward. He was surer still that when the inevitable final seconds of his dream arrived, so would the final second's his life. That he would drift off into nothingness - his life's energy absorbed by the cosmos.

*****

"How's he doing?" Kevin asked as he returned from a nap in his office. He tried to determine if it had been one or two months since he'd last visited his small apartment just down the hall, but decided it really didn't matter. He would be long gone once the old hag's plan was carried out.

Gerald made a quick sweep of the computer screens, "Looks good," he replied without looking up, "I wonder if he's enjoying the show?"

Glancing at another monitor, Kevin noted a higher than normal amount of supplemental brain activity and knew this victim certainly had some thoughts concerning his life's show.

*****

 There was no sense of time other than the occasional reference made in his dream to a watch or clock as he moved from link to link, his id slowly unraveling. 

He had no opportunity to change or interject in any particular situation as he stood by the side of the lane he grew up on and watched as his childhood dog was struck again by the garbage truck and left to die in his arms.

He smelled the freshly cut grass, mixed with chlorinated water, as he swam with his high school buddy once more, and they commented as only teenage boys can on the comings and goings of swimsuit-clad females they knew. 

Then it was on to those sweaty moments in the backseat of mom and dad's old Chevy as he and Sue discovered the wonderful pleasures of each other's body.

The sadness was overwhelming as he watched his father's eyes fade once again, and his mother pulled a wadded Kleenex to her mouth and sobbed. No, there had been no chance to ask the questions he had so wanted to and still contemplated to this day - no chance to take advantage of the moment which was so real he could touch it. He was still bound to the decisions and steps he'd taken all those years ago as he shrugged on the coat of manhood at a much earlier age than most.

_____

"Do you know where we are?" Gerald asked, leaning over Kevin's shoulder to look at the computer screens.

Kevin shifted in his chair and consulted the note pad he'd been scribbling on. It contained key words and occurrences that gave him hints about what part of the man's life they were in. "I think we'll need at least four more storage units and another 6 hours to get it all," he said. As an afterthought, he asked, "How far do we take him?" 

"All the way," Gerald said, "He thinks he's had a catastrophic accident and we staged it well enough. Let's let him relive it so he can get his bearings."

*****

Looking over, he saw her, sitting in the passenger seat, seatbelt snug as it pressed her sweater down between her breasts, one foot shoeless, tucked up on the seat under her thigh. The windshield wipers moved back and forth clearing as much rain as possible, leaving him with a cold grey view of the two-lane highway that lay ahead. 

He felt the front right wheel as it slipped off the pavement and relived the relief he had felt when he tapped the brake to slow the car some before pulling back on the pavement.

Enjoying the conversation once more, he was glad he had turned to see her smile. Knowing, as he did now, that it would be his last living moment of joy, he soaked it up, reveled in the radiance and truth found in the moment even as he felt the steering wheel jerk in his hands again. The inevitable happened, and the car swerved when the right front wheel fell off the pavement. This time, the engine suddenly stopped. Pulling the wheel to the left, he yelled when it skidded right and hit a rock before striking a telephone pole. With a loud cracking sound, the pole broke in two, the top half crushing the roof of the car between them and blocking his view of paradise, strapped in the seat to his right.

He relived his frantic movements as he tried to keep it from happening. Once again, he saw her hand reach from beneath the crushed roof to frantically try to find his.

He heard the solid thud and felt the crunch of metal as the front of the car was crushed like an accordion against the limestone wall on the side of the road. 

Then, for a second time, his world went black.

*****

Gerald rechecked the data and glanced over his shoulder at the equipment room behind another wall of glass. Amazing, he thought. Considering they took a reading for each of the five senses as well as the enzyme and protein levels provoked by each 'thought' or 'memory', it was even more amazing that it could all be converted to a simple, digital signal, and stored on a computer hard drive. 

That every aspect of a person, including the chemical makeup to reproduce personality, reasoning, judgment and their life, could be stored in an electronic storage device of any size at all, was overwhelming.

"What do you think she'll want to do with the, ah, body this time?" Gerald fidgeted with the mouse and typed something.

"The incinerator," Kevin answered, "but we're not supposed go all the way to ash this time. It has to look like he burned up in his car." 

A few key strokes and the victim lay in suspended animation again - no thoughts or thought processes.

"One other thing," added Kevin, "He has to be alive when we burn him. He needs to breath in the flames so the autopsy discovers what we want. Then we have to get the body to the morgue as soon as possible."

Gerald actually grinned wickedly at Kevin's latest revelation. 













Chapter 1

CNN – Today both candidates are on the campaign trail. The Richards campaign continues its sweep through the south, focusing on Florida and Georgia. A former senior Senator from Michigan, many people think Kerry Richards has neglected his northern vote while working to bolster his weaker, southern following. In a very public show of party unrest, some Republicans have expressed concern for Richards's possibilities this November. All this might be a problem if it were not for campaign finance woes that continue to plague Democratic presidential hopeful, Arthur Wright. Thought to be a shoe in early on, recent questions concerning 'soft contributions', amounts that fall below required disclosure levels, have tarnished Wright's previous untarnished image.

*****

Downshifting to second, Linda Woo, second generation Japanese American and department head at the Internet Crime Bureau, braked lightly just before accelerating through the tight, right hand turn. The sun glinted off the strip of hood chrome that ran from grill to split windshield on the British racing green, 1957 Jaguar XK 140. Just as she passed apex and accelerated hard into the straight stretch of deserted road that ran along the California coast, a rabbit skittered from left to right, crossing the road, causing her heart to beat a little harder in response to the adrenalin dumped into her system. Topping out at ninety she worked her way back down through the gears finding second again as she drifted into a tight right hander which brought the sun back into view.

She found release in the hum of the engine, the feel of the pavement, as she sped along with no time for superfluous thought processes. In the morning she'd felt jumbled and stormy, but pushing the sleek sports car to its limit quelled those thoughts and brought something akin to peace. 

Coming out of the turn she slowed, coasted off the pavement and rolled to a stop beside a concrete retaining wall that defined a quiet beach overlook on US 101 somewhere between San Francisco and Los Angeles on the California coast.

Linda let the engine idle a minute as she sat in the drivers seat listening to the tick of metal cooling and watched the orange red ball dip closer to the rippled, green mat of ocean waiting patiently below. Finally, shutting the engine off, she climbed up and out of the low slung vehicle, walking around to lean on one of bulbous front bumpers while glancing at her watch.

A year to the day, she thought. They'd stood here, in a gentle embrace, leaning on the front of his car, waiting for the sun.

The rain was to blame. The rain had taken those last few moments away from them. A silly, summer squall that came so quickly; there had been no real cloud cover to give warning. No gusty winds or rumbling thunder; a smattering of water that seemed to fall from nowhere and lasted only 15 minutes. But 15 minutes had been enough to take him away. 

She looked at the sun and judged the distance deciding it was about now they had broken their embrace to scurry to the car and take refuge.

"It's just a few miles up the road," he'd said.

Linda shivered recalling how Michael had reached across, wiping water from her face. The touch of his fingers still tingled on her skin. 

If only they'd stayed. If only they'd wrapped up in each other for warmth instead of finding refuge in the car. If only they'd kissed in the rain and let their hands wander. 

They'd done it before. They'd kissed once in the rain at an overlook on a trip they'd made through the Rockies, letting their hands wander, laughing as their clothes dropped by the front wheel of the car. That had taken 45 minutes. Minutes that flew by like seconds as they'd made love on the hood of his car. 

Their bodies and clothes had been soaked after, but as with most young lovers, there were more important things in life than a little water.

Returning from her reverie, she realized she'd missed it again. A year later they were cheated once again from the hiss that only lovers could hear as the sun dropped into the sea for the night.

The distant blue sky had turned to red and the breakers below chased shadows to the sandy beach. The gulls were leaving, heading for refuge from the night.

Linda pulled the white convertible top from behind the seats, unfolding it until the front tip rested on the chrome windshield surround. Opening the door, she slid behind the wheel and reached across to latch the passenger side top latch, then the one over the steering wheel.

The engine purred as she turned the car around to take the road. She sat a minute contemplating. Left and north would take her home; to refuge for the night along with the gulls. Right and south would take her to a point of departure. His point of departure. The last place on earth they'd visited together. Beyond that was another refuge of sorts. Beyond that was the completion of a journey a year in the making.

With resolution, her foot pressed the gas pedal as the clutch came up. Pulling on the oversize steering wheel, she turned right deciding with a lover's determination, to complete the journey.

Their journey.













Chapter 2

It felt odd. He enjoyed an awareness that held no pain but offered no other feeling. The memory of death, falling into the dark abyss after the last few notes of his life's song played out, was very vivid.


The Entity Pt. 01



There were no words to describe his surroundings or how he felt. The best he could conjure was – he existed.

A slight tingling in his being drew him. He could not define where he was drawn from or where he might be going. He only sensed a flowing, like water, down a steep hill where his being pooled in many places. In millions of places. Separate but connected by a thin ribbon he perceived as his lifeline.

After the first nanosecond he learned more. Much more. 

*****

Tammy Spalding watched her screen closely this time. As lead IT specialist for this particular site, she sat at a secure terminal in the basement of the Akron banking building, just off Wall Street, trying to solve a perplexing problem. She wanted to watch it happen. She wanted to see the screen change. She was looking for a flicker or some other anomaly that might clue her in to what was going on.

Her first line of attack had been hardware. Changing out the terminal, she'd watched it boot up, go on-line, and wait for her password. After login, she'd let the terminal 'cook' a minute while she browsed the service order form confirming what was written.

Terminal 21 is not in sync with the other terminals in the building. Account totals vary slightly from those shown on all other terminals.

She'd been perplexed when, after changing out the terminal a third time, this time for a new one, fresh from its packing, the account totals still failed to agree with the other terminals she had access to in the basement accounting and vigilance offices.

Tammy pushed away from the desk and headed for the mainframe room on the 30th floor. 

"Hi Bob. How are we running tonight?" she asked the gangly man in a rumpled and, in her opinion, dirty suit, as she stepped off the elevator and headed for the guarded door of the systems inner sanctum. 

"No problems here, Tam," Bob responded as he stopped in front of her, "What's up? You got problems?" She inwardly cringed as Bob's eyes swept her body from the floor up, stopping at her breasts, as he waited for an answer.

As head of systems management for the east coast, Bob Nunn had last say and oversight of all system changes and problems. While his fiefdom was large, Tammy knew it was much larger in his own mind. 

Wrinkling her nose, Tammy noticed again the air of staleness that seemed to follow Bob around. She'd bet his computer at home ran 24/7, but his shower saw action about twice a week. How he got this high in the corporate tower with his personal hygiene habits, and obvious general sleaziness, was the subject of much speculation among his gaggle of peons. The most popular speculation being some type of tangled web between himself and senior vice-president Mrs. Bunger, frumpy and over 60, who headed up systems deployment world wide.

She saw him hesitate as if contemplating staying to help out, and rushed to reassure. "It's just a terminal down in the dungeon. Bad data readings. I thought I'd scan the software and check the router."

His eyes bobbled a few seconds across her chest again before he looked up and replied. "Okay, Tam, be sure to call if you need anything," his lecherous grin caused a shiver.

Right she thought. She'd call him as soon as hell froze over and her boyfriend started picking up his underwear and socks after a shower.

"Sure, Bob, I'll do that," she answered as she tried to move between Bob and the wall without personal contact.

"You have my beeper number and home number, right?" 

"Right, Bob, I do. I'll let you know."

Striding down the hall, she heard Bob call after her, "No matter how late, Tam, you can always call me any time you want."

Unconsciously she straightened her blouse and checked quickly that no lace was showing. It wasn't that she cared particularly, or felt she needed to; it was just that Scanner Bob left women feeling like their clothes were askew or missing altogether.

Break room talk, none of it serious, had it that Bob invented the latest airport anti-terrorist technology. The one that left people appearing naked when walking through a security checkpoint. Scanner Bob's wandering eye had exactly that same effect.

James, the door guard, just grinned, enjoying the moment entirely too much, in Tammy's opinion, as he buzzed her through.

*****

Linda slowed as she went into another long, gentle curve. Slipping the car out of gear she studied the exposed layers of sandstone as she drifted by slowly.

It started with small uncontrollable quakes in her legs. Next she was having trouble keeping her arms and hands steady on the steering wheel.

Then she saw it. A small white lightning bolt that scraped along for about ten feet in the yellow stone before ending in a deeply carved star where the right front fender of Michael's car had gouged into a small outcropping.

The telephone pole was gone completely. Searching, she saw it had been moved up to the top of the shoal, further away from the road.

Her foot quivered so badly she had trouble pushing the brake pedal to stop.

She sat, eyes closed tight, hands white knuckling the steering wheel and remembered.

'You know what I love about you, Woo?'

She recalled smiling over at him, eyes bright, and a feeling of absolute contentment.

'Why, it's that little lost Japanese school girl look you have about you.'

She could see her own smile turn to a belligerent laugh as her left hand went out to hit his right shoulder playfully.

'That's lust you dirty old gaijin. My grandmother warned me about you hairy, European apes.'

But then he'd glanced in her direction, melting her heart, her laugh puddled between them before evaporating into a contented sigh.

'What I really love about you, Woo, is the way you whimper when you're in my arms. Did you know you do that, Woo?'

Yes she did and it still made her blush. All he had to do was touch her and a little whimper of contentment would find its way up her throat. But that's not what she told him.

'It's because I'm always afraid of the big, hairy, gaijin. My grandmother always told me a gaijin would want only one thing from the beautiful, Japanese princess.'

'Oh yeah, Woo. What's that?'

She recalled how she'd giggled while answering, 'Why it's obvious. All gaijin want their little Japanese princesses to help them hold their, ah, chop sticks.'

They'd both laughed. It was a nice moment, snug and warm, encapsulated in the car while the rain competed with the windshield wipers.

But then everything had changed. She'd noticed the slight set of his jaw as the car swerved off the pavement. Then the smile returned as he pulled back on the pavement, turning to say something to her.

'What I really love, Woo, is you.'

Linda still sat, stiff backed, hands gripping the wheel as she recalled the sound of metal against rock. A solid crunch as the telephone poll split the front of the car. The heavy thud and pressure on her eardrums as it broke off completely falling on the car, crushing the roof between them.

Suddenly she felt a chill and pressed the clutch in. I'm sorry, Michael. I came to say goodbye but I can't find you here.

With that she let the clutch out a little too quickly and pressed the accelerator. In a small cloud of pea gravel and dust she continued her quest for the end of their journey. 

*****

The second nanosecond brought a great understanding of many things. One of his pools materialized as a recalled image, just as his last dream. He could feel the control surfaces, read input from engines, here chatter in the cabin through small microphones designed to capture the last seconds of an airplanes life.

Then he found control. He discovered how to move things in his world. How to make things happen.

*****

Just east of Denver, United flight 1167 was grabbing for air after a high altitude take off from Denver airport. Captain Smith was watching his co-pilot make his first unassisted takeoff just as disaster struck.

With no warning, the entire electronic cockpit of the Airbus 300 went dark. Simultaneously, all fly-by-wire screens that had replaced mechanical gauges and controls, went black, the cockpit lights, themselves dimmed for night flight, turn off, and the squawk of Denver tower disappeared.

Captain Smith yelled over the noise of the cockpit at his co-pilot. "Let me take it, Dick."

Grabbing the yoke he pulled back slightly and was relieved to feel a normal response as the climb steepened. Easing off, he tested the rudder pedals and was rewarded with a slight wiggle.

As quickly as they'd disappeared, all screens and lighting returned to the cockpit. Denver tower was seemingly unaware of any anomalies onboard flight 1167 as they announced their climb through twenty thousand feet.

Clicking the com button, his voice shook slightly as he called Denver tower. "Denver tower. This is United 1167 heavy requesting clearance for an emergency landing."

A bead of sweat rolled down Dick's right temple as he scanned the cockpit for some unseen gremlin.

*****

Linda parked in front of the American icon sitting off the black asphalt parking lot to her left. Shinny stainless steel with a red neon OPEN sign hanging in one of the windows, a warm yellow glow beckoning her inside.

She couldn't help but smile as she pushed one of the two entrance doors and was rewarded with the tinkle of a small brass bell hanging just low enough to be hit by the door frame.

Her knees still weak and palms wet with sweat, she looked around for Leo.

A voice boomed from the far end of the counter in one of the few surviving 1950's American diners still in operation.

Leonid Gubinich, Leo to his patrons and his wife Nataliya, had emigrated from Russia to America in the 90's, just after the fall of the Berlin wall, in pursuit of the Great American dream, having grown weary of the Great Russian promise.

Ironically, that dream had materialized in the form of an old, dilapidated, diner Leo found languishing in a junkyard outside Jersey, slated for destruction and recycling. Five thousand dollars later and the diner, along with the Gubinich's, were westward bound as they watched over the two flatbed trucks that carried their dream to California.

A little help from the local hippie community that, interestingly enough, had no great fondness for the diner, but thought a Russian flipping burgers in an American icon, on the Golden Coast, was a hoot, and 'Leo's' was open for business.

One person in particular, too young to be part of the California hippie scene, played an important part in restoring the old diner's exterior to its current, pristine condition. Michael Manship had been biking south on US 101 when he came across several cars and pick-ups parked in front of Leo's dilapidated diner. 

Having rolled his share of metal customizing cars with his friends, Michael took one look at the beat up stainless steel skin and fell in love.

Stepping inside he found a hodgepodge of workers doing carpentry work, covering counter stools, re-working the grill and deep fryers, slowly bringing the eatery back to life.

Leo offered him a burger and fries if he'd help out for the afternoon, and the rest of his senior year weekends, while attending UCLA, were spent climbing around the old diner, popping rivets, rolling and shaping stainless steel and watching the past come to life from the labor of his own hands.

Two years later, an appearance in the San Francisco Journal Eatery section, along with five stars, and Leo's had become the place on the west coast to sample 1950's style, fast food eats and be photographed. Golden coasters were suckers for a photo op.

Three years after that Leo decided what America really wanted was a redwood wrapped, single story, 1950's style motel. He'd gone to great lengths to find original orange and amber swag lamps to hang in each room. Button upholstered headboards for the beds and white Formica tables to sit under the swag lamps. Rotary dial phones and Sylvania black and white televisions completed the retro feel.

Sitting off to the right of the diner among the costal pines, the motel featured bed vibrators that would take a quarter and give you a fair re-creation of an L.A. earthquake, a closed circuit TV system that ran DVD's from the office showing only 1950's and 60's TV shows. I Love Lucy was Leo's favorite, but at night, TV greats like Lawrence Welk and Ed Sullivan could be enjoyed. Trekki's loved the place.

Just as Leo had embraced American pop culture as his own, so had California embraced Leo and his whacky ideas. Today, most people had to make reservations six months in advance to stay at the motel. Not Linda. Linda and Mike had always been welcomed.

"Where you been," boomed a heavily accented voice as Leo walked up to the register. "I expect you whole hour before."

Linda blushed a little at Leo's paternal outburst and stepped around the end of the counter where Leo surrounded her with one of his famous, Russian Bear, bear hugs. Her feet came off the floor as she was pulled into his barrel chest.

Stepping back, she wiped the start of a tear from the corner of her eye before replying, "I stopped to watch the sunset, Leo."

Leo wrung his hands in his apron and turned abruptly to stomp away behind the counter. Linda kept pace on the other side and took a stool at the far end where Leo busied himself shaking a fryer basket full of sizzling potato slices.

She idly flipped the play cards on a jukebox remote mounted above the Formica counter, waiting for Leo to decide to talk to her again.

She'd seen them at the funeral. They'd talked briefly but found more discomfort than comfort in their brief meeting, all of them more than a little lost for words. Leo had blustered and constantly went on about how 'this not right, something not right. This just like KGB.' 

This was the first time Linda had returned since that day a year ago when the journey had ended just short of their destination.

"I know you." Leo burst into her reverie like a bull in a china shop. "You want potato fries, cheeseburger, no onions, extra pickle and very thick, chocolate shake. That be what fix you up good right now."

With that Leo had defined the end of mourning and was all set to turn Linda into a Russian MATb. She still wondered at how the California salad, cheese, and lemon twist seltzer water crowd, had embraced the high grease, high fat food, of Leo's.

Nataliya appeared at her elbow leaning in to give her a peck on the cheek. While Leo still carried a heavy Russian accent and broken English, Nataliya had studied English in Moscow while growing up and spoke it perfectly.

"We missed you, dear. The bear has been wrestles," she said, nodding in the direction of her husband.

"Nataliya, it's great to see you. I've missed both of you more than I can say," she said, accenting it with a gentle embrace.

Nataliya took Linda by the hand and led her off the stool and over to the corner booth that had just been cleared by a white-fold-capped busboy.

Linda followed reluctantly but settled in opposite Nataliya in what had always been her place at their booth.

It felt the same. It felt warm and inviting. It felt like a small piece of home without the hearth.

"So, are you still working for the Fed's?"

Linda nodded and toyed with another jukebox remote, flipping the play cards, always leaving the 2nd to the last card covered. As the one time youngest director in the Internet Crime Bureau, the federal governments answer to internet FBI investigators, Linda had earned some fame two years prior solving the 'On Screen Killer' murders.

A series of murders perpetrated by a bad man hell bent on revenge. A slightly visible scar could still be seen on the left side of her neck, an inch below her jaw line, from a bullet she'd taken during the investigation.

The Jaguar in the parking lot had been a gift of appreciation from two people that she still considered very close friends. When asked what they could do to show their appreciation for saving their lives, she'd refused. When, through her parents, they discovered Linda actually had no car in the one state that was car crazy, they decided to throw her into the fray with a little class.

Six months of insisting had actually brought Jack and Jan to Linda's doorstep where they'd handed her the keys personally.

Before further conversation, Leo appeared and plopped down a heavy, white china, diner plate with, what many Californian's considered, a work of art in itself – a perfectly prepared, Leo's diner, cheeseburger. An extremely thick chocolate malt was placed next to it.

"You eat. We talk more when finish Leo diner work of art."

With that, Leo took Nataliya's hand and urged her out of the booth leaving Linda to her thoughts.

*****

The next nanosecond had brought the world to him.

He'd found his eyes, most stationary, staring out in thousands of different places. 

He could see strings of traffic on highways around the world. Thousands of people smiling and talking into their chat cam. He could read their text and knew who was being naughty or mean.

He watched over stores and babies, surgical procedures and newscasts.

He felt frustrated as an elderly man, Mr. Ener according to his bank data, was mugged after withdrawing fifty dollars from an ATM.

He learned government secrets from around the world and databases of names and information, birth records and ownership. Crimes and punishments.

An undeniable omnipresence.

Then he decided to act.

*****

In Beijing, China, a Red army General sat stoically behind a row of manned consoles watching the remote launch of China's Latest secret weapon.

While the American's had talked big of their laser capabilities and Star Wars, the Chinese had quietly bribed their way through walls of security and black projects until finding Carl Wells. Carl had access, and access is what the Chinese wanted. Carl soon learned they were willing to pay for that access and promptly informed his superiors.

After turning over more than two hundred photos and copies, in effect handing a 'how to build' manual to the Chinese, Carl enjoyed the ruse exactly one week.

Then, as if by accident, Carl's car slid off a rain slick road just outside Leesburg, West Virginia, a few miles from where he lived. The state trooper put it down as a blown tire. If he had paid closer attention he might have noticed the small, symmetrical hole at the tear point in the sidewall. Something very similar to the holes made by bullets as they sliced through practice targets at the firing rang.

The sleek, red, two stage rocket shot unhindered towards the heavens, supposedly carrying a communications satellite. In fact, the General thought, it carried one of the deadliest stealth weapons to be put in space that could melt a tank from orbit with pinpoint accuracy.

He smirked as he thought of the great American congress bickering over weapons treaties and the morality, or lack of, raining terror down from space.

Just as quickly his smirk turned to stunned amazement as the telescopic picture of his countries newest pride displayed a huge fire ball as the rocket and satellite both exploded into a million pieces.

*****

Linda curled on the pillows of her motel bed and leaned against the button tucked, padded headboard, alone in her room, looking at the small package. It was obvious what it was from the black, satin covered, box. A white envelope lay beside the box and she could make out Michaels handwriting, brusque and masculine, from where she sat.

'Woo' was all it said. Nataliya had taken the package from below the check-in counter after walking with her to the motel. "Michael, brought that up the weekend before," was all she'd said as she slid it across to Linda.

Laying a brass key beside the package, Nataliya watched as Linda hesitated before scooping the package, envelope and key off the counter.




The Entity Pt. 01



Walking around she hugged Linda long and hard and whispered, "He said he wanted it to be a surprise. We left it in your room for when the two of you arrived. That and some roses," Nataliya's voice trailed off with the explanation.

Throwing her overnight bag in the closet, she'd busied herself with getting ready for bed, removing her clothes slowly, deliberately dallying as she folded them. Another half hour was spent turning her mid-back length, shiny, black hair into a huge braid. Stepping into the shower she'd let her mind wander and meander.

Now, dry and pink cheeked, wrapped in a thick, terrycloth robe, she sat watching the box as if watching a snake.

Picking up the envelope, her thumb ran under the unsealed flap before flipping her thumb up to trap it shut again. She continued this game before dropping the envelope, without pulling out its contents, on her nightstand.

Lifting the small black satin covered box in the palm of her flattened hand, she stared at it noting the minute weave of the fabric, its delicate folds at the corners.

The sound of her pager chirping made her jump, almost causing her to drop the small item between the bed and nightstand. Replacing it gently in the middle of the bed, she found her purse and fished around for the small, silver, electronic sentinel, reading the curt message in the display.

Odd she thought. In her three years with the bureau she'd never seen a code 99. Extreme emergency. If this code showed up on your pager, you were expected to check-in as soon as possible.

Fishing out her cell phone, Linda speed dialed the ICB switchboard and was surprised again when the operator on duty recognized her voice and put her through, post haste, no questions asked, to the Captain.

"Where the hell are you, Woo?"

"Good evening to you too, Captain."

She could hear a buzz of activity from the captain's end and what sounded like a drawer on his desk being slammed shut. "Cut the crap, Woo. You do know what a code 99 is, don't you?"

"Sure, Captain, that's why we're on the phone."

The black, satin box caught her eye as she waited on the Captain.

"Where are you, Woo," the Captain demanded, "and don't make me ask again!"

"I'm in a motel along the coast, about 100 miles north of L.A."

The captain chuckled. "You down there visiting that crazy Russian?"

He didn't give her time to respond, "I need you in the office at 0800 tomorrow morning." 

Before she could respond he added, "I know tomorrow is Sunday but we seem to have a little bit of a national... wait, strike that, international emergency here. We're calling in everyone."

"Sure, Captain, I can leave tonight if you need me there now."

"Not necessary. Be in the ready room by 0800. And one other thing, Woo," the captain paused for effect.

"What's that, Captain?"

"See if you can get Leo to send me a cheeseburger with the works. I'll nuke it for breakfast." With that the line went dead and Linda folded her phone before dropping it back in her purse.

Shrugging out of her robe, she dug around in her overnight bag and pulled out jeans and a sweater. As she dressed, she continued to glance at the small box on the bed, as well as, the envelope on her nightstand.

Everything packed, keys in hand, she finally picked up both and dropped them in her purse. A final glance around the room and she headed for the diner to catch Leo before he locked up for the night.

She didn't like leaving Michael tucked away in her purse but, just as before, she couldn't seem to find him in the small, in-animate objects he'd left for her.

It was still warm and she decided to drop the top again before heading north.

On the way back the lightning bolt in the rock wall wasn't as visible, but she still reached for her purse as she drifted around the curve.

Please be sure to take the time to vote and comment. I hope you're enjoying the story as much as I enjoyed writing it. Much more to come. BTW – This is a sequel to The Sentinel. 



The Entity Pt. 02



This is the story of love lost, love explored, and love found in a place least expected. It is also a mystery that involves power, money, greed, and lust. While not as graphic as most here at Literotica I hope you find it an entertaining read. I apologize for the state of the work. It still needs proofing. Please vote and comment. 

JPMMURPHY 

Chapter 3

Fox News – Presidential hopeful, Republican, Kerry Richard's campaign manager today announced that Richards would be taking a day off. An unusual move in any campaign less than ninety days before the election. Sarah Lightfoot, Richard's campaign manager, fell short of claiming exhaustion, knowing that could call into play the twenty year age difference between Richards and his opponent, Arthur Wright. In truth, recent rumors of sexual impropriety during Richard's Senatorial years may be closer to the truth. While rumors fly, no hard facts have come to light.

Denzel Layton, trade name, Denny Lay, sat at his desk, head in hand, wondering again, how the hell this could have happened. He was sure he didn't do it and, to his knowledge, no one else had the passwords to do it, but there was no denying that Griselda Slayton, trade name, Jenny Gee, could be found through any of the most popular search sites, giving the audition of her life. His hottest property had gone from 19 year old, Christian pop singing sensation, to black cock slave overnight.

Denny Lay knew it would only have boosted her career if her venue had been rock or funk. Hell, look what similar things had done for Paris and Brittney, he thought. But no, his personal, hidden camera take of little Griselda, standing in his office in a long white dress, guitar slung across her shoulder as she sang praise to all things mighty and saintly, had somehow made it from his hard drive to all the popular video sharing sites in the world.

If saintly notes and words had been the only things in her mouth, then there would be no problem.

He poured a little more bourbon into his coffee cup and clicked play once more.

"That's great, Griselda. I mean that. Really I do," Denny said, the sincerity button set to full.

He cringed at how clear the audio was, how easily his voice could be identified.

"But you know; there are a lot of pretty little blond girls, just like you, that can sing a church song just as good as you can. What can you show good old Denny Lay which no one else has shown him, honey?"

He cringed again at how obvious his come-on was. No way to claim it was all a mistake. But just to make sure the lid was hammered on nice and tight, sweet, petite, straight blond haired with those oh so cute bangs, little, 18 going on 19, soon to be Jenny Gee, just had to say a few things first, didn't she?

He watched as she lifted the guitar toward her chin and the strap slid over her head. Stepping forward she leaned it against the front of his desk and stepped back, hands clasped in front, fingers wringing, when out of those beautiful, red, hymn singing lips came the words that made her career.

"Well, Mr. Lay. I done sung fer ya. Why singin' the words a God almighty is what I was put here on his good earth ta do. I jes' know it is. I got lots a talent and I learn real quick. I can show ya' whatever ya want."

A slight swing of her hips and nervous smile was what she felt should highlight that moment. Denny chugged his coffee cup at the sight of her thin, boyish, figure suddenly developing a hip that made her dress swish like a big old bell. She may have even blushed, Denny wasn't sure. But Jenny hadn't finished, had she?

"So you jest tell me what ya wanna see ... If'n you can get my message ta more a' God's good people, then I'll show ya jes' anything ya want."

By that time he could see the image of his own back on the screen, having walked around to lean on his desk beside the guitar. 

"Well, sweetie, you know, I don't know if you're really ready for all the work, well, and things, that making a real star, well, getting the Lord's word out, involves."

Yep, he'd said that. He had to admit it. Things like that had always worked in the past, and a few more seconds of video was going to prove it still worked. The little foot stomp was cute as hell, the defiant stare and pout had 'Lolita' written all over it. 

"I don't know what ya be a meanin' Mr. Lay. I'm gonna be 19 in six more months and I ain't never found nuthin I cain't do."

"Yeah, but you'd have to go on tour, travel in a tour bus, maybe even share a room. I mean, we don't stay in the Hilton until you really make it big. It all gets real personal. I mean, well, you know, we're all professionals, and, well, I might have to see you naked from time to time. You know, changing costumes, things like that."

He watched the video as her hands wrung and her long, white, look of innocence dress, rung like a bell again. Then he saw himself leaning against the desk, his black skin shinning through his bald spot like a little beacon, his pate of short grey fuzz setting it off nicely.

Then she did it. He grabbed the bottle and started pouring another as Jenny Gee's hands came undone and reached behind her back. He chugged another half cup of Jack as she leaned forward, actually placing one open palm on his chest so she wouldn't fall, letting the front of the dress slide down her arms.

Straightening up, her arms dropped and so did the dress, and there was Jenny Gee in her very small, very pink, cotton bra and panty set, white dress in a puddle around her white, patent leather, strap on, pumps. Thank god it wasn't Grrr' Animals, Denny thought as he poured another.

"There," was all she said. Her hands clasped in front again, some more nervous wringing of her hands and then her knees knocked together and the hip went out once more.

Denny just hung his head, knocked his coffee cup with his knuckles and listened as his voice came up, as if on cue, loud and clear.

"Well, Griselda, see what I mean? You're not ready yet. Hell, everybody sees everybody like that at the beach. I mean, that's okay. You can come back when you're ready and all, but I mean, you have to understand. What would you do if I walked in the dressing room and you were getting ready to go on stage? What if we had to talk about the order of the songs, things like that? Important stuff. I mean, you can't stop getting ready just because someone walks in your dressing room. Why, you'd just have to come on out with nothing on, put your make-up on, and get dressed. We can't announce that the concert is delayed because your manager needed to talk to you before the show. Now can we, Griselda?"

Denny looked up, he couldn't help it. He knew what was going to happen next. Besides, this was where CNN always stopped showing the video. This was the part everyone had to go out to the internet to see. And there it was; that sad little whine as her hands came up again to unsnap her bra and let it fall. He could actually see a tear as her thumbs hooked into her little pink panties and pushed them down.

Another chug of half a cup of Jack, and Denny actually stopped breathing as he listened to himself on the video saying, "Much better, Griselda. Now, just one more thing..."

He watched as his image on the computer screen pushed off the desk and turned sideways to the video camera. His hand was already fishing in his pants. And there it was. Manhood hard and in his hand while he motioned her to a spot on the floor in front of him.

"You have to kneel, sweetie. It's just like praying and I'm going to fill you with the word," his voice sing songed like an old fashioned, Baptist preacher addressing his flock on a hot Sunday morning. 

The interruption caught Denny off guard and he promptly poured bourbon all over his keyboard.

"Denny, honey," his wife stood at the door to his home office, two men in ratty suits and preposterous ties could be seen standing behind her, "These gentlemen are detectives and would like to talk to you about a case of theirs." Denny just stared at his wife.

*****

The captain took the white 'Leo's Diner' paper bag and motioned Linda to a chair in front of his desk.

"Ummm. That Leo sure knows how to make a burger."

Pointing at a red folder on his desk, the captain stepped out to microwave his burger back to life, and left Linda to start reading.

After a couple of bites and due praise of Leo's abilities with a spatula, the captain started summarizing as Linda continued to read.

"Yesterday, a United flight out of Denver, lost all electronic avionics, cabin lights and radio on an Airbus 300. It only lasted a couple of seconds and control of the plane was never lost. After returning to the airport, without incident, a strange anomaly was discovered," the captain paused for another bite.

"What does a commercial airplane have to do with the ICB," Linda asked.

The captain raised a hand as he took a quick drink of soft drink before continuing. "It seems this plane has in-flight internet service for first class. It also seems that once it landed and diagnostics run, they found nothing wrong."

"Sounds like a problem for the French, to me, Captain."

"Maybe. But there's more. After three hours on the tarmac, a complete change of all system boards, full diagnostics and the plane was certified flyable. So, off they go toward the end of the runway. About half way down the taxi lane the plane shuts down. I don't mean the avionics went dead again, I mean engines, lights, cockpit; hell, everything went dead. It was as if the plane had no power at all. Anywhere."

Linda was still leafing through the report. "I still don't get it, what does this have to do with us."

"Five minutes after being dead in the water, all systems come back up. Everything. The pilot taxied back and told the tower he wanted a new plane. The tower agreed and an hour later, off they go. United calls the Airbus people and they have someone there by midnight. Here's their CONFIDENTIAL report," the captain threw a stapled bunch of papers across the desk and settled in to finish his burger.

After about five minutes Linda looked up and asked, "How's this possible? How can a block of what appears to be damaged memory in something as simple as a router cause something as complex as an airliner to shut down?"

The captain tipped back in his chair and basketballed his wadded burger bag into the trashcan by the door. "Well, we have another thing to go with it. You have a radio in that chariot of yours?"

"No. Wasn't standard equipment when it was built," Linda answered, still flipping pages, scanning a few.

"Have you heard the latest bible belt gossip?"

Linda just rolled her eyes.

"Well, you do know who Jenny Gee is don't you?"

"Gee, as in God or Gee, as in, gee-whiz, I'm an idiot?"

The captain chuckled, "Yep, that's the one. Well, seems a certain audition tape, well, private video audition tape made it off her manager's computer and onto the internet. Also seems that Miss Gee-Whiz may have been coerced into trading a few very biblical favors for her ride to the top over the past year. Glad recipient, direct from, or maybe it's, direct to, the mouth of Jenny Gee. I get confused," the captain feigned a look of befuddlement before continuing, "Anyway, one Mr. Denny Lay, sometimes manager, full-time philanderer, has been caught red handed accepting said biblical favors. 

"So, at the request of the prosecutor's office, NYPD talked to Mr. Lay at his house at three in the morning, east coast time, and confiscated his computer. Said computer was immediately put on a commercial flight and has landed in our office.

"Seems that while Mr. Lay does not deny what's on the tape, he has absolutely no idea how it got off his computer and onto the internet. He swears on a stack of bibles," the Captain chuckled at that, "or maybe it was, Jenny Gee's head he swears on. Anyway, he swears he didn't put it there and doesn't know who did."

Linda finally found the account about 20 pages back in the first report she'd picked up. Skip reading, she found the words she thought were important. 'A block of memory not accessible by the operating system.'

"A block of memory?" Linda sounded skeptical.

"Not done yet, Woo," the Captain stated, "Wait for the next one."

Linda leaned back in her chair to listen.

"Seems the Chinese were putting a communications satellite up, well, the official version is communications satellite, the real story is a little different," the Captain continued, "Anyway, just before insertion, the rocket exploded and the satellite was destroyed. Our man inside says they found a computer bug they couldn't identify. Then the bug just disappeared."

"A computer virus. Okay, I get it."

"No, you don't, Woo. There is no virus. Every hard drive we've checked is clean. Just like all the drives on the United flight. As long as the computer isn't connected to the internet, there's nothing wrong. What's interesting though is that as soon as you connect the thing to the internet, a 24 K block of memory is taken over."

"No hidden files? No viruses, Trojans, worms? Nothing?"

"Nothing. But wait, it gets better. We traced the source for Denny's machine. I mean, we are the ICB, we can do things like that. Guess what we found?"

Linda just sat and waited.

"We find it coming from our own servers here at the office."

"I don't get it, Captain; our servers are the cleanest, most scanned, and most looked at machines connected to the internet. Probably in the world. How can we have a, well, a virus?"

"That's just it, Woo. We don't. Once we discovered what to look for, we checked all our machines. Every machine has the same problem. But get this. Once we disconnected our main communications trunk to the street, it all disappeared. Poof. Gone. Every machine immediately clean. Nothing on any hard drives, all memory allotments completely normal. Nothing."

"Have you called in Tom yet?"

Tom Neal was the ICB head nerd and probably the countries foremost authority on computers of any kind.

"Been here since four in the morning. Working on it as we speak."

"The meeting sir," the captain's secretary stood at the door; pad and pen in hand.

*****

Some things he did out of mischievousness, others out of benevolence. A good feeling emanated from some, unidentifiable point, and spread through his being.

As soon as her card went in the machine he was able to see her bank account, credit card that was over charged, her landlords home records, phone bill, electric bill, gas and water.

He also discovered the twins registered at Methodist hospital, her job records at the fast food chain and a '76 ford registered in her name. Parents both dead and no marriage certificate. Alone and in need of help.

He decided to give her some.

*****

Jessie was ecstatic. She counted the bills again. Yes! Twenty crisp, clean, new one hundred dollar bills. She looked at the small ticket and smiled when she read she had just withdrawn twenty dollars from the ATM. Well, according to the printout, anyway. And she was sure her balance last week had only been thirty-two dollars.

She quickly folded the ticket into the bills and placed them in her purse. Looking around to see if anyone was watching, she leaned in close to the security camera and mouthed 'thank you so much'.

She would finally be able to pay her phone bill and catch up on the rent, she thought. The twins would have a decent meal for a change.

She didn't notice the small ticket that printed out as she walked away. If she had pulled it from the machine she might have seen the small message printed beside the banks logo. 'You're welcome Jessie.'

*****

Tom stood at the captain's elbow as the meeting started.

"I believe everyone has read the general summary. Tom's, here to give us a better picture on the technical side," the captain vacated the podium.

With that Tom stepped up and shuffled a few papers before continuing. "Well, here's what we have so far," Tom said signaling to someone sitting at a projector, the whiteboard behind him was suddenly lit by a bright, square of white light.

Tom just stood behind the podium waiting for someone to speak up. It took about a minute and someone in the back yelled, "Looks like a polar bear in a blizzard to me!"

"Snow White on a sheet if you ask me," came from the front of the room followed by a few nervous laughs.

Tom held his hand up for silence, "Well, actually, you could both be right." A pause for dramatic affect and he continued, "What we actually have is nothing. Zilch. A big zero. Nada."

The captain stood frozen in place for a second before a slight roar broke out in the room. Tom finally continued.

"Unfortunately," turning to the captain, Tom continued, "we do have something." Again he waited calmly.

"What the hell do you have, Tom?" the captain asked loosing his patience. The room went quiet again in anticipation.

"It's everywhere. Working with the countries that have our counterpart, as well as the few agents we've been able to get to other countries on such short notice, the same phenomena has been found everyplace we've checked.

"There's a 24 K block of memory that is blocked, as far as we can tell, in every electronic device that connects in any way to the world wide web. Right now, we speculate that that would be anywhere in the world. If you can access something remotely and it relies on memory and a processing chip of any kind, there's a chunk of memory blocked.

"Right now we're unable to read the block. I might add that we are unable to detect any communications to or from the block. But you can bet that all your machines here at the office - laptops, desktop, even PDA's, cell phones and, worst of all, ATM's, have a block of memory blocked inside them."

The room was quiet; the captain had turned a light, ashen color.

Tom went on, "Reports are pouring in of anomalies. Fortunately, we have no related deaths at this time," Tom stated, adding ominously, "Yet."

"What we do have to wonder about are the anomalies that haven't been reported."

As soon as Tom paused, Linda asked, "All the computers, Tom? The Pentagon too?"

"The Pentagon is not returning our calls, but an informed source, unofficial of course, claims they have a core mainframe and backup system that uses their latest, super encryption that's still clean."

Tom paused while the roar in the room quieted before continuing, "What concerns us, at this point, are the countries that are not quite, shall we say, as advanced in the area of technology as we are. Russia, for instance, and several other nuclear countries are being contacted as we speak."

A pin dropping would have sounded like a thunderbolt after Tom's last statement.

"Okay," the captain took over, "Listen up. Starting immediately, no company business on mobile devices, That includes cellular telephones, laptops, PDA's. Actually, no company business over any type of telephone. Electronic or otherwise." 

Turning toward Tom the captain continued. "Tom, I want you to head up a team that removes our entire internet installation in this building. Bring down the WAN and LAN, I mean everything. I want a work and analysis room set up over in Linda's building with a bit trap on the main trunk. Also a manual kill switch that we can easily disconnect if we decide we need to.

"Linda, I want you to take Tom's techies and install them over in your building. I want your people sent home. At this time all other active cases are to be put on hold."

Turning back to the room, the Captain became quiet, commanding silence before speaking, "Ladies and gentleman. This is the most serious international crisis the world has seen. Period. Loose lips sink ships so let's keep a lid on it. As soon as I've talked to the right people, we will be making an official statement. No one," the Captain paused again for affect, "and I mean no one is to say anything before, or beyond, the official statement."




The Entity Pt. 02



Linda, like everyone else in the ready room was stunned into inaction. Finally, the captain clapped his hands and yelled. "Get with it people. I want answers!"

The room erupted in noise as people scrambled.

*****

Within an hour of inception he had followed the only lead he'd been able to find. While he had no awareness of three dimensional space, he carried a very clear picture of the avenues and gateways he'd originated from.

The Waverly Hill Clinic was traced through several layers of shelter companies and off shore banks, into Geneva which opened up hundreds of avenues that circled the globe.

The only individual he was able to find listed was Theodora Elizabeth Miller. Calculating her age, he decided she'd died long before computer records became the norm. Working back through what he could find told him the only living relative of Theodora was a niece, twice removed, named Tammy Spalding.

He wasn't sure what help Tammy would be but he'd decided he needed her.

He also decided it was time to make contact with the rest of the world.

*****

Tammy was back in the dungeon. She couldn't believe it. As a computer science graduate and manufacturer trained technician in every piece of hardware in the building, she could not accept the fact that she could not solve the problem.

Everything had checked out in systems. She had watched as their security suit ran a full scan on the main frames. She'd even called their software's corporate watchdog number to be told nothing much was happening.

Falling back on procedure, she'd finally called Scanner Bob at one in the morning. His winded state and a husky voice from somewhere in the background told her much more than she wanted to know.

"Just turn the terminal off and we'll look at it together on Monday," had been his curt reply.

So she had. Arriving home at two in the morning, her bad mannered boyfriend had been in an amorous mood which only led to an inter-coital argument, leaving her sweaty, sticky and unsatisfied.

After assigning his ass to the couch she'd dug around for her little silver pacifier and found sleep on the other side of a quick battery drain.

Breakfast and some very intense make-up sex brought her back to life. Deciding a Monday morning, elbow to elbow, with Scanner Bob wasn't her idea of fun had finally brought her back into the office just before ten AM Sunday morning.

A little reluctantly, she flipped on the terminal and logged in. Scanning the numbers on the first screen of accounts, she walked to another terminal nearby and logged in again. Damn, same as last night. Terminal 21 still wasn't right.

Returning to terminal 21, she was contemplating what to try next when the word processor opened. Has to be a virus she thought. I better get it offline before we have a major disaster and Scanner Bob has to be called in.

Before she could reach for the network cable in the back of the machine, a sentence appeared in the word processor's writing space.

'Hi Tammy. Do you need some help?'

Tammy froze and re-read the sentence. Then a second sentence appeared.

'You can type a sentence here and I can read it.'

Tammy fell back in her chair, open mouthed and stared at the screen. Bob, it must be Bob, she thought.

She quickly typed. 

'Bob, how are you doing this?'

The response was immediate.

'No, Tammy, I'm not Scanner Bob, but I know someone that can help you.'

Tammy sat up straighter in her chair and poised her hands over the keyboard, finally typing again.

'Who are you?'

'A friend that needs your help.'

Tammy closed the word processor and fished around with the mouse for the virus scan icon. Before she could find it, the word processor opened once again with a new sentence.

'Look at the accounts screen Tammy and tell me what you see.'

She hesitated and the same line came up again. Minimizing the word processor to see the accounts window beneath, she watched as the numbers in the visible accounts adjusted themselves. Jumping up, she ran to the other terminal she'd left on and checked. An exact match.

Returning to terminal 21 she saw the minimized word processor had re-opened with a new sentence.

'I need you to help me.'

Tammy quickly re-typed her first question.

'Who are you?'

This time the response was delayed.

'Someone that will take you on a very dangerous journey.'



Chapter 4

Waverly Hill had been many things in its lifetime. Originally constructed of wood in 1910 on 150 acres, high on a hill, north of Los Angeles, the building was used to care for the growing number of tuberculosis patients in southern California. Several thousand deaths and two years later it was decided a more substantial and bigger building was needed. A brick and stone, four floor, north and south wing hospital was built.

A central tower between the north and south wings of the main construction that extended two floors above the bottom four floors combined with a red brick façade lent a collegiate air to the construction. Something much less ominous than the hospital's real purpose. 

With 400 patient rooms, numerous nursing stations, supply rooms, full kitchen, surgery theaters, chapel, and crematorium, the sanatorium was prepared to deal with most of the contingencies involved in the long road to a smothering death from Tuberculosis.

From TB sanatorium to convalescence care home for the elderly, Waverly Hill continued to thrive up through the fifties and languished into the sixties. 

Abandoned and neglected, Waverly and the surrounding property were slated for conversion to a prison for minimum security prisoners in the eighties. Community outcry and complaints to the mayor's office bankrupt the owner and left Waverly Hill to languish again as ivy, weeds and rats became its principle inhabitants.

The good reverend Hammer thought the world's largest cross would give nice competition to Brazil and their benevolent Christ statue. The property was perfectly placed and would make the cross, complete with spot lights and an eight million dollar souvenir shop, a beacon of hope for the decadent of Beverly Hills and Hollywood.

Again, public protest had sent the good reverend packing.

When Theodora Elizabeth Miller sat in the debris strewn circle drive in the back of her Rolls Royce, her personal doctor and the family lawyer in attendance, they were both sure they'd seen the trace of a tear from her one good eye.

'Buy it,' was all she'd barked.

As they drove away she listened to Rudolph go on about the history of the place.

Rumor has it that more than sixty thousand people have died behind the tranquil brick façade of Waverly hill. One part of the building is known as the 'body' chute. A five hundred foot tunnel that starts at the first floor and winds down to the base of the main hill where the crematorium sits. People were dieing so quickly, so goes the rumor, that bodies were greased up and slid down the tunnel where they were picked up by a funeral home hearse or, in the case of those not claimed by family, cremated immediately. One account has a line of more than one hundred vehicles that included ambulances, hearses, pickups – anything you could carry a body in, waiting at the foot of the hill.

Today, local folklore claims Waverly is one of the most active, paranormal sites in the country. That rumor was reinforced when a parapsychology group from the University of Michigan left the grounds shortly after setting up their equipment for a night watch. Seems they also abandoned their equipment in place, refusing to return and collect it.

Later, as a geriatrics care center for the elderly, unconfirmed reports of six murders carried out by a self appointed angel of death are still floating around.

Structurally, very sound, the façade has held up surprisingly well. At twenty million, a steal for the property alone. Currently being considered by the registry of historical buildings, tearing it down is not a possibility. However, some modifications will be allowed.

Our architects estimate ten million to execute. A little high but he guarantees delivery in six months. The plan includes two new elevators – a private one for your use that will go only to your floor – the fourth. The tower will be opened and a roof garden installed. Floor one and two will be restored as they were when the hospital was originally built. The surgical theater section on the third floor will be converted to a suit of clean rooms and apartments for staff.

"One thing though. I see here you want the crematorium restored and functional. Is that correct?"

"That's what it says," the old hag barked.

"We'll need a special permit for that and we'll have to convert to natural gas. Of course, you understand, you will not really be licensed to cremate bodies."

"Just do it." With that Theodora, or Theda, as those that worked around her were allowed to call her, slumped against the armrest of the car, lost in the huge back seat of the Rolls, her dry, twisted body showed its years. Her doctor immediately checked her pulse and smiled slightly when, as if by a miracle, he found one.

*****

Tammy arrived at the apartment in a foul mood again. The slob of a boyfriend decided he was not at fault. The only thing he could come up with was someone else. 

"Who is it," he demanded, beer bottle in hand as he leaned in the kitchen doorway.

Tammy just looked up from the pot of spaghetti sauce she was stirring.

"I said who the hell is it? Who's got you all riled up?" Bruce actually swayed a little. Tammy wasn't sure if it was from anger or too many beers.

"No one you idiot. It's just work," she said as she continued to stir.

"I don't believe you. I know you Tam. You've never brought work home before." With that he turned and stomped off to stew in front of ESPN on the television.

After a silent meal, Bruce, or Brutus as Tammy liked to call him when he was being so traitorous, announced he was going downtown to meet the guys and not to wait up for him.

Fine she thought. Maybe I can get some peace and quiet. Try to investigate what kind of virus I came across today.

After clearing the dishes, Tammy took a shower, reveling in the shampoo bubbles and hot water. Grabbing a clean pair of sloppy boyfriend's boxers, the ones with the hearts he refused to wear, and a cut-off Tee, she padded into the kitchen, her long, red hair combed out wet to fall along her back.

Setting her laptop on the kitchen table, she proceeded to boot up. A beer at hand she clicked on her browser to start searching.

'Hi Tammy.'

The message came from one of her chat programs. More precisely, one she hadn't logged into. At the same time she wondered who knew her name was Tammy. Aside from Brutus, she kept her personal information pretty much locked away with her circle of chat friends.

She decided answering couldn't hurt.

'Hi, back at you.'

The name at the top of the chat box was simply XOXOXOXO which rang no bells.

'You left me this morning.'

A chill ran up her spine. How the hell?

'Will you help me Tammy?'

Her response was immediate.

'Who the hell are you, and why the hell would I help you?'

'I can't say right now who I am, but I can tell you it's in your best interest to help me.'

'Why?'

'I can't say right now.'

Anger overcame any wonder she might have had and she quickly clicked the chat box closed and logged out of the chat program. Another message appeared immediately through a different chat program.

'Look, Tammy, I'm not bad. Yes, what I need could be dangerous, but you could learn a lot along the way.'

Tammy pushed back from the table practically tipping the chair over and in two strides, stopped in front of the refrigerator to scrutinize her wireless router sitting on top.

Small red lights blinked, rhythmically, as the polling signal bounced back and fourth between the laptop and the router. A small green power light that turned red when problems were at hand shined bright green.

Returning to her laptop she stood and stared at the open chat box.

Picking up her beer, she walked into the living room and flipped on the television. Grabbing the cable control she was amazed when a blue box covered the television's picture with a message, just like the ones the cable company sent their bills out with. This one was different though.

'Tammy. I don't want to upset you, but there are not many places I can't find you. Come back and talk to me. Please.'

Clicking off the cable box and television, Tammy ran to the bedroom she shared with Bruce, closed the door with a slam and, not finding a way to lock the old skeleton key lock, slid a chair under the doorknob.

What the hell is going on she wondered. Her technical background told her that it was a stretch but not impossible to locate both the computer and cable box through her contract information.

What she couldn't figure out was why someone at the cable company would be trying to chat with her. Much less asking for help and talking about a dangerous journey.

Finding her purse, she dug around for her cell phone to call Bruce and beg him to come back. She stopped cold when she saw the 'New Message' box with '1 New Message' printed in it.

Her thumb shook as she clicked through the menus and found the message.

'Tammy. Please. Only you can help.'

Tammy threw the phone as hard as she could against the door and watched it shatter and fall. Sobbing, she fell on the bed and curled into a small ball on top of the covers.

Who is this guy, or person, or whatever, she wondered. Is this a new form of stalking? An electronic stalker?

She fell into a fitful sleep and Bruce thought his leaving must have really gotten to her when he found the light on in the kitchen, laptop open with her homepage up, and the bedroom door barred.

Kicking off his shoes he fell back on the couch.

*****

Linda looked at the box again. The envelope was beside it and she was perched on her pillows, naked from the shower, heel tucked between her thighs, rubbing her hair with a towel.

It had been a long Sunday at work that had accomplished absolutely nothing. The techie brigade had watched as the memory block learned how to float around instead of locking into one place. When they were able to do a memory dump, which was seldom, all they found was a string of X's and O's. XOXOXOXO.

"Kiss and a hug," Tom speculated.

All scans, binary dumps and machine code inspections, turned up the same kiss and hug.

One of the techies labeled it the kissing ghost.

Going through every cell phone and PDA they could lay their hands on, turned up the same kissing ghost message. Strings of them.

Checking the main switchboard, an electronic monstrosity, that controlled all communications into and out of the office, including network and internet, they discovered the kissing ghost lurking there too.

Walking around the office, lost in thought, Tom suddenly jumped and yelled for all telephones to be unplugged.

"All our phones are digital. It wouldn't be much of a jump to take the logic chip in one, bypass the LCD display, and listen to every word we say," he exclaimed urgently.

Finally, at ten in the evening, the techies had been called together for a quick discussion group before going home.

"As far as we can tell, at this point, this thing has circled the globe. There is no point of origin. Just a constant presence. Any ideas?"

After a long silence one of the new nerds dared raise her hand.

"Yes, Debbie? By the way, no need to raise your hand, just jump right in."

"Well, I can't come up with a computer definition or identify what it does technically, but I have found a word for what I think it is."

Everyone waited while Debbie pulled up a dictionary and opened it on her lap.

"Noun. Being or existence; something that exists independently; the basic essential nature of something; an abstraction or archetypal conception. An Entity."

Tom contemplated Debbie's English lesson, frowned and said, "Sounds like as good a place as any to hang our hat. The Entity it is then."

Nothing else useful came from the meeting but Tom pulled Linda aside before they left.

"Debbie's, onto something. This seems to be a learning code with no home base. Something that exists only in memory block parking spaces. Something that may not have spread around the globe. It may simply exist everywhere."

"Kind of like air or water, right?"

"Think more like killer bacteria and the CDC," Tom replied.

Linda came back from her thoughts and reached for the black satin covered box. Suddenly she could smell it. She hadn't noticed before. It was Michael. His cologne. He probably picked it up after shaving, she thought.

Her eyes closed as she felt his hand on her arm. A breath on her neck made her tilt her head. Her nipples swelled as she thought she heard a whisper in her ear. I love you, Woo, all of you.

Her eyes came open slowly as the dream faded. With her thumb she shoved the box lid up to find what she feared, and hoped, was inside.

It was beautiful. Square cut, the light from her nightstand caused a sparkle of color throughout the clear, blue tinted diamond. The setting was simple. White gold or platinum.

Delicately, Linda plucked the ring from its white satin resting place and held it close enough her eyes crossed slightly. Kissing the top of the stone, she slowly slipped it on the ring finger of her left hand.

Picking up the envelope, she walked to her dresser mirror and tucked it under the edge of the frame, against the glass. I can't right now Michael. I'll read it later.

Walking back to the bed, turning it down, her naked body slid between the sheets. Turning the light off on the nightstand, her left hand moved slowly down the front of her body. Finding its destination, her eyes closed and she whispered, 'Yes, Michael. Yes, I'll marry you.'

Plagued with unpleasant naggings, Linda found Michael waiting for her as she dreamed of chop sticks, Leo's diner, summer sunsets and love.









Chapter 5

CNN - Both candidates continue at a frantic pace as the campaign countdown clock ticks. Democratic presidential hopeful, Arthur Wright, was spotted this morning making an impromptu stop at a street corner in Manhattan. Coming across a long line of mothers pushing empty baby carriages outside city hall in protest of Republican mayor, Lisa Brach's, recent reduction in local government financial support of public daycare for city government workers, Richards actually borrowed a carriage from one of the mothers and joined the protest for ten minutes. Republican hopeful, Kerry Richards, drove home his environmental point today when he was seen at a local Ford dealership in Henderson, Kentucky, purchasing a Ford hybrid for his niece. While some criticized his apparent brand favoritism, he pointed out that you couldn't argue with the fact that Ford's hybrid offering was the most environmentally friendly American car available. And besides, they have a twelve hundred dollar rebate.

*****

Gerald studied the screen once more. The Hag said she wanted to start this week. The doctor said they had to. If not, Mrs. Miller might not be around to enjoy the fruits of her labor. Rudolph pointed out that an incomplete project would mean no bonus.

He felt exhausted. It had been a year since their last victim and endless weeks of twenty hour days. Pushing back from the computer, he stretched in his chair, fishing in his pocket for a small blue pill that would keep him going.

Walking to a white tile covered wall with a stainless steel door and keypad, he punched in a series of numbers and waited for the click.




The Entity Pt. 02



Pushing the door open he looked over his shoulder before stepping into the dark, cool room.

It didn't matter how many times he saw it, he still marveled at the two huge glass tubes filled with a liquid soup that maintained the forms inside.

Dimensions were distorted somewhat by the curvature of the glass but he could tell the man was tall. More than six foot he was sure. The head was capped with an isolation hood so it was really hard to tell. No facial features to look at but long black hair grew from under the edge of the hood.

The frame was strong looking but suspended a covering of muscle tissue that looked under developed. The doctor had explained that was due to no exercise or use. Through a series of electrodes taped to the body, they managed to provoke some muscle contraction and movement. Kevin called it the 'puppet show'. Gerald thought it looked more like frog legs in some high school biology experiment.

The female was beautiful. Well, at least the part he could see. The head was covered, also by an isolation hood; the skin was pale, almost white, with freckles from neck to toe. Long fire red hair floated from under the isolation hood.

Gerald could see the fingers were long and delicate. Her breasts floated, capped by small pale nipples. Pubic hair was non-existent on the female. Hormones had been closely controlled to keep her from menstruating. Something that would have complicated the growth soup process, the doctor had said.

He still found it hard to believe this was her. Such beautiful skin and delicate bones. It was hard to believe he was looking at a clone of the old Hag.

The doctor put the males age at thirty. It had taken ten years to develop him using special growth hormones and other scientific magic. He said the female was around twenty. Developed in seven years using the same techniques.

The door clicked and Kevin walked in.

"I thought you'd be in here."

"Yeah, I just love to look at her. I can't wait to see the face," his voice carried a strange undertone, Kevin thought.

Kevin walked over to the male. "Do you really believe that's her father?" he asked.

"I guess so. She says it is. Kinda kinky isn't it?"

They both turned when the door clicked again and the doctor walked in. It was odd that no one had ever mentioned his name. He was just the Doctor. Gerald was sure he was something leftover from Hitler's régime. He looked almost as old as the Hag but in much better shape. No accent to speak of, which was odd in itself. Not even an American one. Kevin thought he was an alien.

"We're doing the male today. If all goes well, then tomorrow we'll do Miss Miller.

With that he was gone and both Gerald and Kevin knew they were required.

Kevin walked to another door, opposite the door they'd entered through. Neither he nor Gerald had a code for this door. They both wondered what was on the other side.

*****

Robert Nunn and the Spalding's had been easy to discover. Moving things around and sending a few e-mails had been child's play for the Entity.

Even a few digital photographs had been taken from one of the Spalding's home computers and planted on Scanner Bob's office machine. The Entity wanted to insure he was taken out of the equation to help send Tammy in the right direction.

*****

Tammy sat in her cubicle in the nerd cave at work. Scanner Bob had come and gone without incident. No mention of the terminal was made and Tammy wasn't going near it. Let someone else figure that one out, she thought.

She managed to busy herself with paperwork all morning leaving her desktop computer cold and dark. However she knew she had to turn it on at some point and check her mail.

Finally she could procrastinate no more and Tammy entered her password and waited. Her fingers clicked nervously beside the keyboard.

Once everything was loaded, she continued to wait. Mail appeared and she still waited.

Then it happened. She knew it would. Glancing at her watch she counted six minutes from on switch to first message. Since chat programs were rare in corporate America, her word processor had opened again with a single line. She had spent all morning preparing to be more persistent.

'I gave you a gift today. You might call it a bribe. I need you to trust me. Just go with it and see where it takes you.'

She read it a third time and finally typed a response.

'Roses? How nice. It would be much easier to trust you if I knew who you were.'

After five minutes of drumming her fingers she started to wonder if it was all a joke. Being one of eighteen training and service technicians in the building, she stood and walked around to look at the screen of her fellow nerds. Only two were at their desks. One paid no attention at all and the other just whistled as she walked by.

"Watch out dork. I can get you on sexual harassment for that."

"C'mon, Tam, you know you love me."

"Okay, George, I love you. By the way, have you seen anything on the highway about some strange, untraceable, Trojan or worm?"

He chuckled. "That's why they call them Trojan's, Tam, because you don't know where they come from."

"Cute, Georgie. Real cute."

Returning to her desk she saw no answer had been posted in the word processor and clicked it shut.

Scanning her inbox she noticed something from HR along with a string of in-house service requests. Clicking the HR mail open she nearly jumped out of her seat as she checked her watch.

"Damn, George, why didn't anyone tell me there was a meeting with Mr. Thompson in HR at noon?"

She was long past George, headed for the elevator, when he yelled, "What meeting?"

*****

She could see Scanner Bob just taking a seat in the glass enclosed meeting room. Stepping in, Mr. Thompson greeted her and indicated a chair to his right. 

"Well, Bob, as you know, Tammy has been chosen as your replacement. I hope you brought all the important documents with you. We'd like to make this as, well, painless as possible. Besides, we need to get Tammy on a plane this afternoon."

Tammy just sat stunned and more than a little bewildered, as Bob slid a thin folder across the table to her. He'd always looked, well, and smelt bad, but today he looked like death warmed over.

"This is a summary of a small crisis taking place in the communications world. It was sent to all banking and financial institutions by the ICB. You can read through it when you get back to your desk. Bob will be leaving us," a brusque clearing of his throat and Mr. Thompson continued, "We'll just say for personal reasons, and going through your file we decided you were the best candidate. Unfortunately, Bob's, company computers have been, ah, confiscated by the FBI, but I'm sure we'll have you installed and in your new office by the time you get back."

Tammy crossed her legs for the umpteenth time and swallowed, hoping it would help bring her voice back.

"Ah, I'm sorry Sir, but where am I going?"

Mr. Thompson realized his mistake and backtracked. "We have an e-mail here from a Miss Linda Woo, section director at the ICB. She's personally requested your presence to give input concerning one of our terminals you troubleshot and fixed, ah, yesterday."

Tammy just stared at Bob. Saved by a knock at the meeting room door she looked up in time to see a suited gentleman flip open his credentials and flash them through the glass. FBI was all she needed to see before looking back at Bob.

"I believe that would be your escort, Bob. Is there anything else Miss Spalding needs to know?"

Tammy almost smiled. She had no idea what was going on but she was sure if a needle were put to Bob's temple, his head would just explode like a big red balloon.

Coming out of his chair, hands reached across the table as he yelled at her. "You bitch!"

Tammy shrunk back as the FBI agent barged in and grabbed Bob in a choke hold from behind.

"Sorry about that Ma'am." With that he literally dragged Bob, kicking and screaming, from the meeting room and down the hall.

Mr. Thompson's eyes looked as large as golf balls as he finally turned back to Tammy. "Here's the e-mail from Miss Woo. It includes the office address. This is from travel. We booked you at the Hilton. Here's your e-ticket. We're unable to issue a corporate credit card on such short notice so I would ask that you use your own and we'll reimburse you when you return." Pulling a handkerchief from his inside suit pocket, Mr. Thompson quickly patted his forehead.

Tammy sat stunned, the ICB paperwork on the table in front of her, when Mr. Thompson paused at the door.

"Almost forgot. Miss Woo is supposed to pick you up at the airport."

With that he was gone. Glancing at her watch, Tammy jumped up again, papers in hand and headed for her cubicle.

Shutting off her computer she ran past George yelling at him to get to work. His face just raised up, a perplexed expression behind horn-rimmed glasses as she breezed by.

Now maybe I'll get some answers Tammy thought.

*****

Linda stared at her cell phone. Tammy Spalding? Akron Bank? Arrives American flight 103 at 10:15 PM? 

Following current procedure, she'd left her office, exited the building, and entered the main ICB building on the other side of the street for a face to face. Now standing in front of the Captain's desk, she waited for an answer.

"No idea, Woo. But then you know we can't trust any electronic communications devices. Have you called your carrier to see if the call can be traced?"

"Did that, Captain. No point of origin. Sender unknown."

"Well, forget it then. Better yet, show, Tom. This just might be some hanky panky from, ah, what are you calling it?"

"The Entity."

"Right. The Entity."

Shifting around to watch a telephone technician install a hard line, one that bypassed all their electronics, he turned back to Woo and stared.

"Right, Captain. I'll get back at it," and Linda was gone.

*****

Tom looked at the message for more than a minute. "You might have something here, Slick. If the Entity did send this. Then why?"

"That's what I was afraid you'd say, Tom."

"Think about it. It arrives on your phone. You just happen to be a director in the agency that's fighting it. It wants you to pick up someone from a bank. One of the most endangered industries in the world right now." Not talking to anyone in particular he asked "What does it want?"

"Duh! It wants me to go somewhere so it can do something to me. That's what."

Tom started rocking in his chair, one of his better known thought process habits. Linda could see the strain around his eyes. The ebony skin across his brow shined from beads of sweat. The air conditioning was working fine. She knew exactly what the problem was. 

"How do you beat something you can neither touch, nor contain? Something that has a reach much greater than yours, and at the same time, knows every time you touch technology?" Tom asked.

Linda just stared, a perplexed expression on her face.

"I think you should go, Woo."

Linda just stared some more.

"Look, Woo, this, as far as we know, is the first time it's made direct contact with us. With the ICB. I think we should follow through and see where it leads."

She could see the logic. That didn't mean she liked it.

*****

The Doctor stood to one side as the huge glass case drained quickly. At the half way point he directed Gerald to start tipping the heavy glass cylinder. Kevin watched from the side as electric motors ground and the male figure fell against the front of the tube.

"Quickly now. We have to clear his lungs and get him breathing before anything is damaged," the Doctor directed.

The motors speeded up and they all watched as the body, isolation hood and all, slid out on a stainless steal table like today's catch at the fish market.

They turned the man over quickly and the doctor found a rubber tip that was capped, sticking out of the isolation hood. Pulling the cap off, the doctor attached a clear plastic tube that ran to a pump on the floor. A switch was flicked and a yellow liquid filled the glass jar sitting beside the pump.

Almost a minute later the body started to jerk, a coughing noise coming from below the hood. It was strange when he was finally breathing normally. Stranger still that a grown man didn't ask what the hell was going on.

Kevin helped the doctor wrap the body in a special thermal blanket while Gerald finished draining the tank before returning it to an upright position.

Everyone finally stood around the cold, stainless steel table and stared.

A living, breathing human being from a bottle. Gerald wondered what Jim Crochet would have thought of all this.

*****

Tammy sat in first class, somewhere over the Rockies, still trying to put it all together.

She couldn't imagine what in her file would have prompted HR to think that she was the best candidate for Scanner Bob's position. She had just jumped two levels without even waving on her way up, not to mention the new salary.

She was also confused by the upgrade to first class at the check-in counter. The apathetic check-in lady had finally asked if she wanted it or not, pointing out she was welcome to ride back by the restrooms in the tail of the plane if she wanted.

Then there was the man that stood off to the side complaining about his seat. He'd shown his ticket to a young man several times, pulled his frequent flyer card, and even threatened judicial action. All to no avail. They had absolutely no record of his first class ticket ever being sold. They also assured him they might need to call the omnipresent, seldom defined 'authorities' if he kept making a scene.

She'd had no time to go home and pack. Mr. Thompson's secretary assured her that wasn't a problem. 'I'm sure you'll have a chance to go shopping.' A wink and a smile carried the unspoken message, 'It's a shopping spree on the company. Have at it girl!'

She really had nothing but her purse and a folder full of papers. Well, that and a nice glass of bubbly to wash the cheese down with.

*****

"Okay, Kevin, start the write."

Gerald checked cable connections as an array of characters scrolled across his screen so fast he was unable to read them.

The doctor had rolled the man into the transfer room and overseen the removal of his isolation hood and lung drainage tube. The matted hair had been quickly washed and a transfer halo placed over his head.

Kevin was charged with pulling up the right download and preparing it for transfer.

Gerald plugged in the cables and watched the terminal designated 'Transfer Gate'. If anything went awry, it would show up there first.

The doctor continued watching pulse and BP while an electronic saline drip applied a mild sedative.

"How long do you think," Gerald said.

"I give it eight hours easy. It's a lot of information," answered Kevin.

They all settled in for a long night.

*****

The Entity found Tammy at the luggage pick-up carrousel through one of the airport security cameras. He'd followed Linda in from the parking garage using other cameras.

He understood Linda's concern as he watched her speaking with a couple of airport security officers.

While he had no way to actually smile, the thought of smiling somehow made him feel good as he watched his orchestrated drama unfold.

*****

Tammy had no idea what Miss Woo looked like. Standing by the luggage pick-up carrousel, what she thought was the most logical place to wait, she scanned the crowd.

Linda had notified airport security and after flashing her credentials, was accompanied by two armed officers, to the same carrousel Tammy was waiting at.

One of the flight attendants had been found, brought down and quickly identified the pretty girl with long red hair standing alone, as Tammy Spalding.

Instead of exposing herself to possible, un-necessary danger, Linda asked one of her escorts to approach Miss Spalding and ask her to follow him.

Taking Tammy to an immigration interrogation room, she was left to her own thoughts as Linda watched from the other side of a two way mirror.

"Could you see if she has identification please?"

"Sure," the officer replied, "Of course, the way things are today, she couldn't have gotten on the flight without proper identification."

"Just bring it to me so I can check it first."

She watched as the officer appeared in Tammy's holding cell. She felt slightly distracted by the nagging thought that this was a beautiful woman. There was a look of confusion and a billfold came out of her purse. The officer asked her to, 'please remove the card and hand it over.' Tammy complied.

Linda was even more confused as she looked at the identification. A training and service technician for a bank?

"I'll take it from here. Thanks."

Sticking her head in the door she gestured to Tammy to follow.

"Are you Linda Woo?" Tammy smiled and started to say more.

"Let's get out of here first. Come on. My car is in the parking garage."

With that, Tammy fell in behind Linda as they worked their way through the airport hustle and bustle to the parking lot.

She tried to yell above the buffeting air as the small shiny sports car snaked its way out onto the highway.

"I'm staying at the Hyatt tonight. Maybe we can talk in the bar."

Linda didn't turn as she answered, "Not tonight, you're not."

Tammy wondered idly if she had done something wrong or if all Golden Coast residents were this rude.

They trudged up the old wooden stairs to Linda's apartment in silence. Once inside, Tammy decided enough was enough.

"What the hell is going on?" refusing to enter the open door until she got some answers.

Linda sighed and waved her in, managing a small smile in the process.

Once inside she offered Tammy something to drink which was declined and waved her to the couch in the living room.

Linda decided Tammy was harmless and spent half an hour explaining events, including all they knew, and didn't know, about the Entity.

Tammy sat, dumbfounded for a beat before she told her side of the story.

"Here, this is a printout of the e-mail you sent to our company. You can see right there where you requested I fly out," Tammy's finger shook as she pointed at the mail.

"You say someone, or something, has been communicating with you on your computers at work and at home?"

"Right, I don't ..."

Another scan of the e-mail Tammy had handed her and Linda jumped up. "Come on. We need to get something."

Back to the shinny sports car and Tammy sat mutely as they crossed town to a Walmart Super Center.

"Only in America can you buy the latest in computer technology 24 hours a day, seven days a week," Linda quipped.

Tammy just followed her inside and watched as Linda purchased the most powerful laptop they had in stock.

Back at her apartment she watched Linda as the slim computer came out of its box, manuals were discarded, registration cards landed on the floor and, after fifteen minutes, the operating screen started to load. First screen being automatic registration through the internet.

Linda checked the wireless connection icon and turned the machine around on the coffee table.

"I want you to register it in your name. All your information; address, phone number, the works. Just like it were your own."

Sitting cross legged on the rug, Tammy scooted closer to the coffee table and started typing. After about ten minutes, all fields had been filled, boxes checked off and updates applied.

Linda walked around the table and was kneeling beside Tammy when it happened.

'Hi Tammy. I see you made it.'

They both stared at the chat box saying nothing.

'Why the new computer?'

Tammy looked at Linda, who just nodded.

'Yes. I did make it. Did you put me in first class?'




The Entity Pt. 02



'Sure. I felt you deserved better.'

Tammy glanced at Linda again. "What now?" she said.

"Keep chatting."

'Do you know I've been promoted at work?'

'Yes I do, Tammy. Scanner Bob was a bad man. Who deserved his position more than you?'

'Bad? Why bad?'

'He's helped embezzle millions. I helped the fed's out by moving proof to his computer at the office.'

'But I don't understand why HR thought I was the perfect candidate?'

'You are Tammy. I've read your thesis, I found it on-line, seen your school record and even perused your company record. I also had a friend of mine on the board of directors of your bank send an e-mail recommending you.'

Linda and Tammy glanced at each other. A friend at the bank might lead somewhere.

'Who?' Tammy demanded.

'It doesn't matter. He doesn't know he sent the mail anyway.'

Tammy leaned back and looked at Linda again. "Keep typing," was all she said.

'Who are you?'

'Sorry, Tammy, I can't tell you that. By the way, is Linda there?'

Please be sure to take the time to vote and comment. I hope you're enjoying the story as much as I enjoyed writing it. Much more to come. BTW – This is a sequel to The Sentinel. 



The Entity Pt. 03



This is the story of love lost, love explored, and love found in a place least expected. It is also a mystery that involves power, money, greed, and lust. While not as graphic as most here at Literotica I hope you find it an entertaining read. I apologize for the state of the work. It still needs proofing. Please vote and comment. 

JPMMURPHY 





Chapter 6

Fox News – Republican presidential hopeful, Kerry Richards, put a face on the high cost of housing today when he donned blue jeans and a cotton work shirt and was filmed hammering away at one of the democratic parties pet projects, Home Quest, that grew out of a bill pushed through the Senate two years ago that builds and sells one family, low income housing, selling them to qualified candidates at cost with no interest loans. Some speculate Richards made a two run homerun, also attacking those that criticize his advanced years. At 71 many think Richards would be hard pressed to win a second term in office, that is, if he were able to complete his first term. Richards could be seen literally sweating it out as the crew he worked with installed the interior walls of the three bedroom dwelling. His campaign manager said the presence of a paramedic team and ambulance was routine. Accidents do happen, Richards campaign manager quipped.  

*****

A private nurse scanned the array of beeping, whirring equipment and looked at the bundle of bones in the huge four poster bed. An ancient grandfather clock chimed four times telling the nurse it was four in the morning and she stood to check the drip.

She really didn't know who the woman was but she did know a little about Waverly Hill and now, in the wee hours of the morning, the place gave her the creeps.

Theodora was dreaming of late night dances, Pierce Arrows and zeppelins. The birthplace of her journey.

It was ironic that the last breath of the most important man in her life had been drawn here, in this very building, on this very floor, over 70 years ago. More ironic that the first breath of his second life should be drawn at that same place.

*****

The doctor stepped aside and ceded to the stunning, red headed beauty with emerald green eyes. Her heels clicked on the polished floor as she strode into her fathers room.

Theodora didn't gasp, nor did she turn away from the pale bag of flesh, face ashen, eyes closed, that beckoned feebly with a withered hand.

Back straight as an arrow, an air of prideful defiance, she walked to her father's bedside and clasped his withered claw in her hand. No reaction could be seen to the cold damp feeling it left on her palm. No tears of regret.

Leaning down, she whispered close to his ear, "It's me father. I'm here beside you."

His eyes fluttered and finally managed to open halfway. She could tell he wasn't looking at her. She thought he might not be seeing anything at all.

A putrid odor preceded a wet soggy sound and she moved her ear quickly over his mouth to try and catch his words.

A second attempt brought a mumble and some pink spittle that landed on her cheek to slide slowly toward her chin. No move was made to wipe it away.

Moving back to his ear she whispered once again. "Yes, father, I'm here. I love you father."

His grip suddenly became strong, much as she recalled him when she was much younger, his huge, rough hand pulling her down their backyard to the beach so they could play in the waves.

Positioning her ear over his mouth she listened again. Finally he was able to form words.

"There's enough, Teddy. Enough for twenty lifetimes" he stopped to take a ragged, sloppy breath and continued, "The trick, Teddy, is to live long enough to enjoy it."

With that his hand relaxed and Theodora thought death had finally taken him. Straightening slightly she watched his chest. Suddenly the hand beckoned her close again as he drew his last, wet, wheezy breath.

"Keep me in your heart, Teddy, keep me alive."

The hand fell limp and she finally became aware of how cold it was. Pulling back she searched his pale green eyes for any sign of life. One of the nurses raised the back of her hand to her mouth when Theodora leaned over and kissed her father's open, blood covered mouth.

Pulling back she whispered, "I'll always love you father."

With that she dropped the hand and turned on her heel. Back straight as an arrow again, no move to wipe the pink spittle from her cheek or blood from her mouth, she strode from the room, turned down the hall and was gone.

She knew there was nothing left for her in her father's room. The most important thing on earth had just left.

Ducking into the back of the red Duisenberg, Henry Bartholomew handed her a thick envelope. As they drove around the circular, tree lined drive to leave, Theodora chanced a glance back at the red brick façade and one small tear fell from her emerald green eyes.

Later that night, at the estate, she spoke quietly with Bartholomew. It was difficult to fathom a fortune that neared a billion dollars in 1920. Even more difficult to understand that the majority of the Miller wealth was hidden away and that only a hand full of people even understood that Theodora Elizabeth Miller was now the wealthiest, most powerful person on earth. Richer than many countries.

Born in 1890 to Thomas Lee and Elizabeth Ann Miller in a small town just outside of Chicago, Theodora was actually a twin. Something she learned of when she turned ten. She was told her sister died at birth and nothing further was said of the matter.

Pain and heartbreak hit when she turned fourteen. Her mother found herself pregnant much later in life than expected. She'd watched her father watch over and care for her during the pregnancy only to have happiness taken away during childbirth when both mother and child died.

"We're off to California, Teddy. This place saddens me now."

California had been good to them. Her father had arrived in time for the oil boom and the gold rush. Teddy had flourished at their estate by the sea. She recalled many late evenings frolicking in the waves and languishing on the sandy beach. 

The month of her eighteenth birthday saw orchestras, balls and oriental lanterns on the lawn of the huge estate. Would be suitors stood in waiting, as much to share the wealth, as to get a chance at ravishing the stunning redhead that would hang on their arm.

It was the drawn, haunted look of quiet sadness on her father's face that finally brought an end to that long summer of wine, roses and dance.

Late in august Teddy bade farewell to her latest suitor at the front door of their mansion and walked up the wide, spiral staircase to her bedroom. There, Lupita helped her undress and was surprised when her mistress asked that a bath be drawn. After almost an hour of primping and preening, her long red hair brushed to a high luster, Lupita was surprised again, and giggled, when her mistress requested only her white silk robe.

"Which one is it, Miss Miller? Is it that tall blond one I saw you dance the last dance with?"

No answer was given and Lupita was dismissed. Stepping out onto the cold marble of the balcony that overlooked the foyer, Teddy padded quietly to her fathers study. A dim glow came from beneath the door.

Pausing long enough to undo the sash of her robe and let it slide from her shoulders, she grasped the crystal door knob and walked in without knocking.

"I'm here father. Your, Teddy."

*****

Linda sat stunned reading the line a fourth time. Tammy only waited.

'Are you there, Linda?'

Tammy stood and pointed at the floor in front of the laptop.

Linda raised her hands with trepidation and typed.

'Yes. I'm here.'

'How do I know this is really you?'

Linda continued to stare. Hands floating off the keyboard. Finally she started typing.

'I'm, Linda Woo, of the Internet Crime Bureau. Who are you?'

'Someone you knew once. Someone that can help you.'

'I've known a lot of people. Which one are you.'

'That's not important. I can help you solve your problem.'

Tammy said, "That's what he said to me, too."

'Do you want money? Is that why you've invaded all the computers in the world?'

'How can I know this is really you, Linda?'

'Why wouldn't it be?'

'This could be one of, Tom's, tricks.'

Linda hesitated. This person, no, this Entity knows everything.

'This isn't Tom.'

'Prove it.'

Linda just looked at Tammy.

'How,' she typed.

'You have a camera at your apartment. It's on the shelf in your hall closet. Connect it.'

Linda stood, stepping back from the laptop. She thought about calling Tom but discarded that idea given the Entity's apparent reach. This had suddenly become too personal and she needed to slow things down. Not sure why she was whispering, she told Tammy to 'Turn that damn thing off.'

Tammy held her finger on the laptop's power switch until the screen went black and the soft whoosh of the cooling fan stopped. A small pop from the speakers told her the laptop was no longer active.

"What now," asked Tammy.

"I need to think," replied Linda.

Tammy stood and stretched as Linda started moving around the living room, stopping at one of the tall, double hung windows, to gaze at the street below.

"I'm beat, Linda. I don't know where I'm supposed to sleep but it will be the floor if I don't find someplace soon."

Linda circled the room again, glancing down at the street as she passed the windows, apparently oblivious to Tammy and her needs. Finally, stopping at the laptop, she stooped and disconnected the power cord. Tammy followed as she walked to the kitchen and pulled the power cord from the back of a wireless modem that sat on the kitchen counter.

"Sure. I'll bet you are. I have a guest bedroom you can have. Unfortunately there's only a half bath so you'll have to use the main one in the hallway."

Tammy continued to follow Linda around as she pulled the plug from the back of a telephone, removed the wall phone from its jack in the kitchen and finally stopped back in the living room at the television and disconnected the satellite TV box from the feed coax that disappeared through the wall along with its telephone cable.

"This is the guest room. Your luggage?"

Linda stood a second before realizing Tammy had arrived sans overnight bag or suitcase. "You didn't bring any. Did we leave it at the airport?"

"No. I had to leave so quickly I didn't have a chance to pack. I'm supposed to buy some things here. Your e-mail said urgent ... "

"Right. My e-mail. Well, let me get you something and you can get ready for bed. Look in the medicine cabinet and you'll find a new toothbrush. Use that. I'll be right back."

The bedroom was warm and inviting, the bed more so. Tammy threw her purse on the bed and started peeling clothing off. Down to her panties and bra she checked a door to see if it was a closet. Inside she found a half bath. Another door a few feet away yielded a closet. Picking up her clothes she hung them as best she could, unhooked her bra draping it over her slacks. Hooking her thumbs in the waistband of her panties, she started sliding them down her legs.

"Here are some towels and a washcloth."

It wasn't what was said, it was the cool touch of a hand in the middle of her lower back that made her jump, nearly running into the open closet door. Stepping out of her panties quickly, she stood and turned to find Linda standing right in front of her, hands out bearing a folded stack of terrycloth bath items.

Blushing slightly, Tammy accepted the items and stepped around Linda to set them on the bed.

"Thanks," was all she said. She felt the blush creep up her chest and neck, which only made her blush more.

Tammy decided she was too tired to care. It had to be six in the morning back in New York. Then she noticed that Linda was just as flushed and didn't feel quite so bad. 

Picking up a towel and washcloth she followed Linda down the hall to the main bathroom.

Finding the toothbrush and a bar of soap, Tammy started her nightly ritual. Linda returned and took up station on the toilet lid. Why does she have to sit and watch me, she wondered? 

"Do you have a cell phone," Linda finally asked.

Spitting out some toothpaste Tammy answered. "I did but I, well, got mad at our computer friend last night and smashed it against my bedroom door."

"Just as well. A Palm or anything else that communicates?"

Tammy rinsed her face and felt around for the towel she'd left on the edge of the basin. "Yes, I do have."

"Turn it off and pull the battery."

Tammy stepped away from the basin and started patting her skin dry. Suddenly, she noticed Linda had started shedding her clothes and decided it was time to leave. She is cute, though, Tammy thought.

Blushing as she realized where her mind had wandered, Tammy grabbed her washcloth and headed for her bedroom. "You'll wake me in the morning?"

Linda stepped out of the bathroom toweling her face and said, "Sure. I hope six hours is enough sleep for you. We've got a lot to do."

Tammy's door clicked shut and Linda returned to the sink. The glint of her ring, Michael's ring, caught her eye and she suddenly felt exhausted.

Padding back to her bedroom, she slipped between the sheets and turned her bedside light off. Why aren't you here to help me? As expected the answer was only silence.

*****

Bob wasn't looking for help. Bob had everything he needed. 

Leroy Williams had been very glad to get a hundred dollars from the pawn broker for the shiny piece of metal he'd found in the garbage can behind his apartment building. He'd thought about keeping it but could think of no use for the 38 special.

Too small for his tastes. Besides, it was as bad as a woman; you never knew where it might have been or what it might have been used for. No. Better to take the money and let someone else have the problem.

Scanner Bob was now the proud owner of Leroy's abandoned problem. He decided flying was out of the question. Too easy to trace and almost impossible with a weapon.

After a lengthy questioning, the FBI had released him, admonishing him not to leave the state or make any travel plans. Yeah, he'd thought, I'm going to just sit around here and wait to go to jail.

The kid at the dealership asked him to 'Wait just a minute, let me check,' and was off to find his manager.

"Sure, Mr. Nunn. We can accept cash. Sorry about that, I don't recall anyone ever making that request before. I had to ask."

"It's okay son. And do I get a discount?"

Bob didn't get a discount but he did get a full tank of gas and a gold keychain.

The green duffle bag was thrown behind the driver's seat containing enough funds to keep him on the road for some time. Leroy's gun was hidden below several bundles of greenbacks. Once out of Manhattan, Bob headed for Philadelphia, his Map Quest printout that came from the public library, on the seat beside him. 

He'd left Philadelphia behind eight hours ago and was now somewhere on I 80 in northern Ohio. He hoped to sleep somewhere around Chicago.

Bob still couldn't figure out how she'd done it. He knew it was her. He'd had a chance to glance over the paperwork the Fed's left on the table in front of him while waiting on his lawyer and there it was, Tammy Spalding, Akron bank IT. He still wondered why she hadn't just come to him and asked for a share. There was more than enough to go around. Why did she have to go and rat on him?

It had all been Shelly's idea. Mrs. Bunger's husband sat on the board of directors for the bank. Chit chat at home brought out the fact that not only Akron, but all banking institutions dealt with a small problem on a daily basis. What to do with all those extra digits after the first two cents, in all their fee and interest charges in the day to day operation.

Her husband's pull had gotten Mrs. Bunger, someone with no knowledge what so ever of computers or their operation, into the cat seat, as world wide systems deployment and strategy director. It had been Shelly that had fingered, so to speak, Bob Nunn as the technical whiz behind their planned scam.

It hadn't been difficult. A few well placed formulas; some off shore accounts and well hidden transfer instructions to send the money and all they had to do was watch the accounts grow over the last six years.

It was amazing how many dollars could be squeezed out of fractional parts of pennies when you had more than a million transactions each day.

He still couldn't figure out how the account information and his map of special formulas had gotten onto his office computer.

He planned on asking sweet, red headed Tammy just before he pulled the trigger.

Still in the same rumpled suit he'd been wearing Monday when picked up by the Fed's, Bob pulled off at a Day's Inn just south of Chicago. He decided to remove the dealer sticker from the Mercedes and pulled his small duffel bag from behind the seat, heading for his room.

Now open on the bed, he counted a thousand dollars out of the bundles, zipped the bag back up and fell onto the covers.

Bob didn't dream much. Ever. Most his dreaming was done during the day, at his desk, when he visualized what Shelly, his mistress, and her husband would do to him later that evening with a whip and some very tight handcuffs. He just wished they'd let him bathe more often. Once a week was terribly uncomfortable. Suddenly Bob cringed in shame at what he'd just thought.

Somewhere between wakefulness and sleep he recalled Tammy. 'Cry for me Tammy. First I want to see tears.'









Chapter 7

The Entity had lost track of Bob Nunn and this was unsettling. He couldn't be found on any federal, state or local lock-up lists. His computers were being scrutinized by the FBI and his cell phone seemed to be moving, rather slowly, across the country.

Having noted the withdrawal of a sizeable amount of money from Bob's off shore account and a new car registered with the New York DMV, the Entity was concerned.

The photographs on the Bunger's personal machine forebode a shared meanness and need for pain that might be redirected at Tammy.

The Entity wondered if he was capable of killing. Discarding the question, he wondered instead, how to pull it off. 

*****

The Doctor busied himself taking his wards pulse, blood pressure and other vitals, while Theodora looked on from her wheelchair.

The write, or download as Kevin called it, appeared to go well. The man was being maintained sedated, the doctor wanting to bring him up slowly.

"It will be quite a shock, Theodora. We must be careful."

That hadn't quelled her excitement. It didn't keep her out of the room where her good eye inspected his face, the line of his jaw. Yes. He was back. He even looked fairly healthy, all things considered.

*****

They'd moved immediately. The Los Angeles estate was mothballed, businesses diversified to several different holding companies, many off shore, and they'd headed south.

"We can't be seen together. Not like this, Teddy. Not as lovers," she tried to detect regret, but found none, only worried caution, "We must put distance between us and our past."

"But you do love me, Father?"

He'd hugged her tightly, his big rough hands running across the skin of her thighs and up her bare back. "Yes, Teddy, I only want to protect us."

Mexico held her warmest memories. He'd purchased enough land to create a small state along the pacific coast. Today that investment still made money as Acapulco and Ixtapa expanded, new hotels appearing on a yearly basis.

When visiting the United States, mostly on business, prim and proper were the watch words while, in Mexico, they languished by the pool holding hands, cuddled and caressed at restaurants like newlyweds. More so at night, behind closed doors.




The Entity Pt. 03



A wealthy gentleman with his starlet. Or so the local population assumed.

"Really? A thoroughbred?" Teddy was excited.

"Yes. We take the train tonight and we'll be in Kentucky for the Derby by Wednesday. I plan on buying a stud."

"But I already have a stud, father." She'd teased and pouted but really enjoyed the idea of getting back to the states for a few weeks.

Checking into the Sealbach hotel on Fourth Street, he'd rented the entire top floor. "We want our privacy don't we, Teddy?"

The Derby ball and owners seats at the race track had been fun. Mint Juleps and southern cuisine had sated part of their appetite. Rides on the riverboats and carriage rides through the parks had helped with others. Digging through the fossils at the falls, knee deep in mud, finding all manner of wonderful things in the slime and backwater of the Ohio River had been a fabulous, sunny Sunday. A wonderful two weeks. Two weeks that dreams were made of.

It was diagnosed almost six months later. The doctors in Mexico had recommended they return to Los Angeles, to a clinic that specialized in his problem.

She still recalled how virile and handsome he'd been when she left him at the entrance. "You go on home now, dear. These doctors here at Waverly seem to know what they're doing. It's going to be alright."

But it hadn't been alright. Nothing had been alright since. After the burial she'd charged the lawyers with running the empire and slipped into quiet seclusion where she'd languished until finding her newest inspiration.

*****

"Wake up, Tammy."

A hand shook her shoulder as sunlight streamed across the bed.

"It's ten in the morning and we need to go to my office."

Tammy rolled onto her back and peaked up at Linda, already dressed, urging her out of bed. "I've made some juice and there are fresh croissants on the counter. I'm going to get a newspaper. Go through my closet and see if you can find anything to wear. You may not get a chance to go shopping until later this afternoon. I don't think my bras will fit you but you can probably wear my panties. Dig around and find what you need. I'll be right back."

With that Linda was gone and Tammy pulled herself from between the soft cotton sheets and padded to the bathroom. Fifteen minutes later she found herself rummaging through Linda's closet, hair combed out, a red, silk thong in hand.

She could hear Linda start talking as soon as she came in the door. "Not much happened last night. An article about the ATM's and the hit Wall Street has taken with the exchange going to hard copy and using their computer system only as a back-up. It's amazing how they're playing this down. Someone in Washington must be working overtime."

Tammy found a black 'A' line skirt and white, baggy; cashmere sweater she thought would do and padded through the kitchen on her way to get dressed. Not quite as self conscious as she'd been the previous night, she thought nothing of Linda following her into the guest room, croissant and Starbucks in hand.

"Here's breakfast. I'm going to pack up the laptop and get the car out of the parking garage down the street. Just pull the door closed and meet me in front of the building."

*****

"Hi, Tom. This is, Tammy Spalding, from Akron Banking in New York."

Tom looked up from the desk he'd commandeered at the redhead standing beside Linda. "Where have you been, Slick? I got worried when you were late and had people calling your house. Are your phones not working?"

"Sure. I just disconnected everything last night," Linda replied as she fidgeted slightly before continuing, "Listen, we need to show you something. Let's go to the conference room on the third floor. Bring a chat cam."

Tom stared at empty space for a second before he realized Linda and Miss Spalding had turned and left. He grabbed a chat cam from an abandoned workstation and headed up to the third floor.

Linda was sitting in front of an open laptop talking to Tammy when he walked in.

"Listen," Tom explained, "someone needs to go over and tell the Captain you've arrived. I got worried and let him know you were MIA."

"Send one of your people, Tom. This is too important," said Linda.

Sticking his head out the conference room door, he flagged down the first person that walked by.

Linda and Tammy were both watching the laptop go through its boot-up process when he finally closed the door and took a seat. Linda spoke first. "Watch, Tom, you won't believe this."

As soon as all systems loaded a chat box appeared.

'Tammy, is, Linda, there?' 

Linda sent, 'This is, Linda. Who are you?'

'I see you're at the office' appeared in the chat box.

Linda glanced at Tom and typed again.

'Yes we are. Where are you?'

'Everywhere.'

Tammy and Linda both watched Tom.

"What is this, Linda?" Tom asked more than a little bewildered.

"It's the, Entity. Well, that's what I think."

'You shouldn't be afraid, Linda. I would never hurt you.'

Tom's chair creaked a little as he leaned back tenting his fingers while regarding Linda, Tammy and the laptop.

"The Entity got in touch with Tammy first. She seems to have brought him to us," Linda waited for Tom's response.

"Ask the, Entity, what he wants," Tom directed.

Linda typed and everyone held their breath while waiting for the response.

'I want you to find me and destroy me.'

The three just stared, first at the screen, then at each other.

*****

Michael felt gentle warmth at first, then the relief of weight on his body. A cacophony of sound invaded his senses followed by a blurry light that refused to focus.

He thought he'd asked, "Where am I?" But neither the voice nor the jumble of sounds he actually heard made any sense. His tongue felt clumsy, fat and uncontrollable in his mouth.

What might have been a face leaned close and said, "Wait a few minutes. You've been gone a very long time."

Weight. Yes, the comfort of weight. He could feel his limbs; shift a little in his bed.

Light from a window came into view as the face moved away. Other things started to take shape. The slats of a blind, an overhead light, small flashing lights on equipment beside his bed.

"Michael, can you hear me?"

The voice wasn't familiar to Michael, nor was the place. He was sure it was a hospital but something about it looked very old, not at all like a modern hospital. The smell was wrong. There didn't seem to be the heavy undercurrent of disinfectant, stale water and human discharge that were standard in every hospital he'd ever visited. There was the smell of fresh paint, polished floors and flowers.

A feeble, "Yes," was all he could manage.

"Good, Michael, that's good," the head returned, features a little sharper this time, "Michael, can you touch my hand?"

The outline of a hand, fingers spread, appeared in the sunlight streaming in from the window. Michael willed his arm to move and was rewarded with a heavy, lethargic response. His eyes dropped to his estimation of where his hand was. He could see it tremble, and with the aid of a visual, he could finally feel the shaking.

He strained with all the concentration he could muster as his trembling hand came off the bed and waved in the general direction of its destination finally making contact.

"Great, Michael!"

The voiced seemed to boom in Michaels ear. Suddenly, everything took on a waving, liquid look and gently spun around the ceiling light.

"Nurse, two cc's."

With that the room slowly faded. Michael's last thought was, 'I'm alive ... I think."

*****

Scanner Bob was crossing Missouri. The shiny, new Mercedes looked as rumpled and dirty as he did. Paper bags, wrappers and leftovers from a string of fast food eateries, were strewn from floorboard to seat to back window.

Maybe I can make this last a long time thought Bob. Maybe I can have her beg into the phone for the mistress. Bob knew what it meant to beg. How humiliating it could be. How degrading. He smiled at the thought, also at the knowledge that no matter how much Tammy begged, his mistress would not be gentle. His mistress would command him to do her bidding.

Pulling off at a Thunderbird truck stop Bob filled the car with gas and cleaned the windshield.

Inside at the register, while paying for his purchase, his eyes stopped on a display of carbon steel hunting knives. Some were six inches in length, others more than a foot. All anodized black with vicious looking serrated teeth on one side and a razor sharp cutting blade on the other. A new thought came to Bob. A thought that made his skin crawl with thousands of goose bumps. The ring of his cell phone brought him out of his blissful reverie.

A voice barked, "Where are you!"

"G G Getting gasoline. Missouri I think," Bob answered.

"We have to get this finished," Mrs. Bunger, his mistress, continued. "This is getting way out of hand. The FBI showed up at my husband's office a while ago."

"YY Yes, mistress," Bob stammered.

"Stop stammering you idiot." With that Bob heard a cracking sound over the phone and immediately became aroused.

Shelly Bunger and her husband had trained Bob well. He'd never realized what bliss could be found in a few clothes pins and a small, leather whip.

It had all been innocent in the beginning with an invitation to their house for a late night meal followed by a little too much to drink. Then Shelly disappeared while her husband pontificated about banks, their owners and directors, and how much money flowed. "It's like a river, Bob, a god damned river of money."

Shelly re-appeared dressed in leather head to toe. Knee high, patent leather boots with long, pointy heels. What appeared to be leather hot pants. A shiny zipper that ran from the front beltline, between her legs, and up to the beltline in the back of the absurdly small shorts. Something, Bob realized, that would let someone part the pants in two allowing quick and easy access. A black leather bustier that, unfortunately, exposed much more than Bob thought he'd like to see.

While Bob thought the outfit might look great on someone like Miss Spalding at the office; on squat, overweight, 63 year old Mrs. Bunger, the outfit was gaudy and more than a little revolting.

But the Bungers' had shown him the light. Mr. Bunger quietly slipped from the room as Shelly started showing Bob how the small leather talons on the end of the whip each had a metal piece tied to it.

"Do you know what they do?" she asked Bob, her breasts threatening to spill from their perch as she bent lower so he could inspect the whip.

Bob sat, mesmerized and ashamed. He fought the sensation in his pants when he suddenly noticed Mr. Bunger had returned and, more importantly, was stark naked. He no longer recalled how quickly it had all turned nasty; he only recalled how good it all felt.

"Watch this, Bob," Shelly said.

Mr. Bunger fell to his knees facing Bob, Mrs. Bunger behind him, the whip flicked across his shoulders.

"He'll do anything I want, Bob."

Snap and a red welt appeared on Mr. Bunger's right shoulder. Snap again, and a little blood appeared.

"Unzip his pants and take his cock out," Mrs. Bunger commanded her husband.

Scanner Bob quickly panicked. Who are these people?  Shelly stepped in front of him as he tried to set his drink on the side table, his intention to escape obvious.

Snap, and Bob felt the whip through his pants on his thigh. "Sit down, Bob, we aren't finished yet," Mrs. Bunger barked.

Bob had obeyed. Bob had obeyed many commands that night from Mrs. Bunger as his transformation commenced. Bob had finally learned exactly how the zipper of her leather shorts worked. He'd also learned, much to his chagrin, how well Mr. Bunger had been trained to give pleasure, no matter who was receiving it. Then Bob's training became earnest and Mrs. Bunger became Mistress. Not just any mistress; his mistress.

Mistress leaned close to his ear and whispered as the whip played across his now limp, exposed cock, "First you'll please him. Then you can please me," her words a command.

His attention snapped back to the phone when his mistress barked, "You're at a truck stop aren't you?"

"Yes," was his immediate reply.

"Good. Go find two truckers and make them happy. When you've finished, don't shower, don't wipe your hands or face off, and get back in you're car and get going."

Bob's body shook with inner rage and pleasure, a strange pair of bedfellows, he thought. He hated the humiliation of the act, the searching and begging involved in his assigned task. At the same time, his body reacted with excitement. Excitement that was now becoming visible.

Turning back to the cashier, he accepted his change and pointed at the longest, blackest, sharpest, meanest looking knife in the display. "I'll take two of those please," Bob said, "and do you have a holster or sheath for them?"

Yes, it went without saying that even in his mistress's absence, he would do as he'd been commanded. He would even enjoy it, every wet, sloppy minute of it. But he also knew that someone else would do the same for him. He knew that Tammy would bend to his will. Every wet, sloppy, bloody, hour of it.

*****

'Do you have a cam, Linda?'

"It's been asking for a cam. It wants to know if it's really me," Linda said.

Tom looked around the room, glanced at the door and contemplated a second. "I see no reason why we can't oblige," he replied, "I think we're pretty safe here.

With that he connected a small, grey ball on a cable to a USB port in the back of the laptop and set it on the conference room table on a small tripod. Immediately, Linda could see the three of them in an image on her screen.

'Hi, Tom, it's good to see you.'

Linda typed, 'We gave you a cam. Will you answer some questions for us?'

'Yes,' was the simple reply.

'Are we in danger,' Linda typed.

'No.'

'Where are you?'

'Everywhere. Nowhere,' came up on the screen.

'Are you dangerous to other people?'

There was a hesitation this time as if the answer was being contemplated. 'Not to anyone of importance,' appeared.

Tom pushed back from the table, stood, and started circling the room in contemplation. Stopping beside Linda, he bent over the laptop and typed, 'What happened to the flight out of Denver, United 1167?'

'I was learning.'

'Did you want to kill the people onboard?'

'No, I told you I was learning.'

'What about Miss Jenny Gee? Was that you?' Tom typed.

'Yes. They're both hypocrites. They deserved what they got.'

Tom fell into his chair again and drummed his fingers while looking at Tammy and Linda.

Tom finally slid the machine in front of him and typed, 'Is the world safe right now?'

'Most of it. It's in no danger from me.'

Looking at his watch, Tom typed again, 'If we leave will we find you here later?'

'The three of you can always find me. Just turn on your computer and I'll be there.'

'One last thing. You seem to know the three of us. How is that?' Tom typed.

'Tom, you're a co-worker and close personal friend of Linda. I need Tammy's help. I found her through her family tree and Linda is more than a friend.'

They all three traded glances and finally Tom typed a final message, 'Can we take a break. Meet again in two or three hours?'

'Sure, Tom, you want to discuss it with the, Captain, don't you?'

Tom made an exasperated sound and replied, 'Yes.'

'One other thing, Tom,' the machine sat idle, waiting for acknowledgement.

'Yes,' Tom typed.

'I like the name you've given me. It sounds like a movie. The Entity. I like it.'

Repeated attempts brought no further response from the machine, from the Entity. Finally the laptop was shutdown and closed.

*****

Tammy held her skirt down as the wind buffeted the tiny sports car. Linda was intent on traffic and shifting. She finally pulled into the parking lot of a shopping mall and pulled into the first place she found.

They strode through the mall, past fountains and store fronts, purposefully, until Linda chose a store and turned in.

"You should be able to find what you need here," Linda said.

Tammy went to the lingerie department and picked up some sensible, cotton undergarments, heading for the dressing room.

Linda pulled the curtain back and stuck in an arm laced with several sexier sets. "You're not made for cotton," was all she said.

Almost an hour later they left their purchases at the store to go eat.

"Tammy, what did the Entity mean by family?" Linda asked over her salad.

"No idea," was all Tammy responded as she picked up a slice of pizza. Before taking a bite she asked, "What did he mean by more than a friend?"

Linda continued chewing as Tammy took a bite of pizza. "He's said a couple of things that indicate a certain familiarity with me, but I just don't know," responded Linda as she separated her own slice of pizza.

Noticing the ring Tammy said, "You're engaged." It was more of a statement than a question.

Linda stalled with a big bite of pizza, looping an errant string of cheese into her mouth and chewing while Tammy distractedly watched one of the restaurant workers go from table to table collecting trays.

"I was engaged, well, I think he was going to ask, a year ago," Linda finally replied, seemingly flustered by the question, "And then something happened."

Tammy waited for more and decided there would be none. Taking another bite of her pizza she studied Linda's seemingly hurt expression and wondered what had happened as they finished lunch and headed back to the car, stopping at the store to pick up their packages.

She also wondered exactly how the Entity defined family.





Chapter 8

CNN – The presidential candidates continue in a dead heat as polls show less than a two percent spread in popularity as Election Day grows nearer. Democratic presidential hopeful, Arthur Wright, spent his morning shaking hands at retirement homes in several cities in Florida this morning calling for a complete overhaul of the social security system. Kerry Richards made the rounds of local hospitals in Chicago, including one veteran's hospital, shaking hands and kissing babies. In an impromptu speech on the steps of Memorial hospital, Richard's said it was time for unfulfilled Democratic promises of public health care to be given more than lip service. With that he reiterated his plans to take public health care from buzz word to reality.

*****

Theodora dreamed. The scan always woke up memories. Most memories long lost jewels that shined in her minds eye. At some point, she'd decided just being scanned was worth the price of admission.

The scan was a weekly routine, had been for a year as they prepared. She insisted nothing be missed, up to the moment of re-birth.

The first step in her journey had been at the 1933 World's Fair in Chicago. Labeled 'A Century of Progress', the fair celebrated the 100 year anniversary of the city of Chicago and was considered a testament to the industrial and scientific achievements of man up to that moment.

People hushed in wonder when lights were first turned on at the opening ceremony using energy created from starlight drawn from the star Arcturus. The rays were focused on photo-electric cells in several observatories around the country and transformed into electrical energy, then transmitted to Chicago and the fair.

She'd marveled at the GM Futurliner, gawked at the Italian city, wondered at the frumpy dress of the actors in the English village and wandered lazily, recalling a trip she'd made to Paris that was very similar to 'The French Streets' exhibit.

But it had been the Hall of Science that caught her eye with its exhibits dedicated to the major sciences of mathematics, chemistry, physics, biology, geology, astronomy and medicine.




The Entity Pt. 03



The gleaming aluminum on black granite, art-deco entrance gave way to a wonderment of imaginings as she strolled from exhibit to exhibit on the arm of Rudolph's great grandfather, the legal mind that had bread an entire line of legal minds that tended her vast empire.

She paused and stared, open mouthed at the depiction of the human brain as tiny points of light followed the recorded narrative explaining how everything we touch, smell, hear and see is transmitted and recorded using a small electrical impulse. A shiver ran up her spine when the voice jovially exclaimed that someday, we may even be able to record a lifetime of memories and thought to be played back at will.

Fantasy to fact had proven costly enough to daunt nations, yet she thought nothing of the billions upon billions she'd spent over the decades to get where she was now.

Theodora had become a big believer in healthy living, even before it had become a much ignored fad. She'd been one of the first to board a modern jetliner in the 60's and try the skills of the Swiss at turning back the clock. She knew her project would not only require vast financial resources, but would also need years of patience as technology caught up with her fanciful imaginings.

She discovered the Doctor, born in Vienna, schooled and trained in Switzerland, on one of her rejuvenation trips. He spoke of something much better than injecting strange concoctions and stretching skin; he spoke of the marvels of DNA and actually rebuilding her body. Not only her body; any body. Even dinosaurs, mastodons and sheep. Even someone dead many years. Her eyes glazed over as he explained what really could be done. 

In a secret laboratory in the city of her dreams birth, Chicago, The good doctor had been laboring for decades to produce the perfect blank. To produce from a single dead cell a full grown, living, breathing, replica of something from the past. That part had been easy. Making the process take place in a time frame much shorter than the thirty years needed to produce a thirty year old human, had been another matter all together.

In the 80's she watched closely and invested in the birth and subsequent growth of the computer industry, the constant parallel drawn between the modern CPU and the human brain being her principle catalyst.

Then in 1990 a young, bespectacled, nerd had shown up at one of her many business ventures. Pimple faced and snot nosed, but not without the saving grace of dual PhD's in computer science and medicine with a specialty in brain structure and activity and its parallels in computer chip processing.

Kevin had proven a very sound investment, indeed.

Gerald had been found two years later in his garage experimenting with a crude direct brain interface for computer games. Something he was sure would revolutionize many aspects of man's everyday life, along with his favorite pastime.

Five years later the first experiment had been performed on a homeless man, one of the many faceless people they'd called on to 'help out' as they moved from theory to fact. After the scan, while discussing the experience with the old coot, they'd discovered he had watched a terrifying collage of images that meant nothing to him other than being familiar pictures and snippets of speech. The impact was so strong that the homeless drunk had sworn off drinking several times during the interview that followed. He was still babbling about it as they put him back up on the table and injected enough Phenobarbitals into his saline drip to put a whale to sleep. When his heart finally stopped they rolled the body out and found another homeless man to continue the experiment.

From that first scan, they had learned that as they stimulated, read, and recorded each brain cell, it would cause the mind to relive or experience what was stored in that particular cell. They had no idea, at the time, how to find the index - the guide that put the chain together into a congruent and recognizable series of events or occurrences. They had also discovered that time really is relative in the mind - that a dream or occurrence that took place over a period of a year could be scanned, recorded, and relived by the mind in an hour, but to the person reliving the experience it felt like the passage of a year. It was rather like having a long complex dream in the morning, just before waking, that actually occupies only 15 seconds of real mind usage.

"How much longer?" the doctor asked, glancing at Kevin.

"Not much, I've programmed it to do an image scan and pick up only the new bits and pieces; her thoughts since our last scan," replied Kevin as he shepherded the readouts to make sure all was in order.

"We have to do her soon. I don't believe she'll last another week."

With that Kevin grinned inside knowing another huge payment would be made and he'd be free at last to enjoy the fruits of his labor. He had no idea how little joy the fruits of his labor would bring him, and much sooner than he dreamed.

*****

Nataliya consulted the motel reservation computer a second time and smiled. It seemed Linda was coming back later this evening. She decided to leave some flowers in her room and called a shop for delivery.

Leo looked at the computer read out on his register a second time. The cashier had called him from the grill when all the tickets started appearing with 'Hi Leo' printed on them.

"I not know," was all he'd said and indicated the cashier should call the company that sold the thing to them and have them come fix it.

*****

Scanner Bob had completed his task, slept soundly, dreamlessly and was on the road again, his purchases stowed away in his duffle bag along with Leroy's problematic handgun and bundles of money. His mind was more occupied with the possibility of a shower when he reported to his mistress the completion of his task, than the finer details of Tammy's lovely skin parting under the sharp, black blade of one of his knives.

It had occurred to him that the serrated side of the blade might be perfect for removing limbs. He just wasn't sure yet how to keep her alive while he carried out his plan.

*****

The three of them were once again gathered around the laptop in the third floor conference room.

'How was lunch, Linda?' the Entity asked.

Tom sat off to the side, out of camera range, looking at the screen of another laptop that was reporting what was traveling in, out and around the local area network into the conference room.

'Lunch was fine. Do you have a name,' Linda hit enter.

'The Entity. I found it in Tom's notes.'

'Besides, Entity. What are you? A program?' Linda hit enter again.

'I had another name, but that's not important. If you want to know how to destroy me, my name won't help,' appeared in the text box.

Linda paused a second then proceeded to type, 'Do we need to destroy you?'

'I think it would be best,' was the immediate response.

'Why,' and enter.

'Because I'm sad.'

Linda and Tammy both stared at the screen. Tom saw their expressions and glanced at the conversation. "Sad?" was all he asked.

Shortly another message appeared. 'You have an appointment tonight, Linda.'

Linda looked at Tammy before typing, 'I do? Where?'

'At Leo's. Your room has been reserved.'

Linda thought a few seconds while Tom studied his screen, then typed and hit enter. 'Will seeing, Leo, help us solve the problem?'

'It's a step in the right direction,' appeared on her screen.

Tom looked over and said, "Do it."

Linda typed again and hit enter, 'Okay. Will we talk again?'

'Take the laptop and a camera,' was the final response from the Entity.

Tom leaned back and stretched in the tan leather office chair. Linda decided she still wasn't letting Tammy out her sight and they'd gone to pack overnight bags and head south.

A rap on the door frame brought him back to reality and he motioned Debbie, the English teacher, in.

"It's gone," was all she said.

Tom was already running down the hall barking orders. "I want every piece of equipment in the building checked," he yelled, "and I mean all of it. It's going to be a late night people."

Please be sure to take the time to vote and comment. I hope you're enjoying the story as much as I enjoyed writing it. Much more to come. BTW – This is a sequel to The Sentinel. 



The Entity Pt. 04



This is the story of love lost, love explored, and love found in a place least expected. It is also a mystery that involves power, money, greed, and lust. While not as graphic as most here at Literotica I hope you find it an entertaining read. I apologize for the state of the work. It still needs proofing. Please vote and comment. 

JPMMURPHY 

Chapter 9

Michael was propped up in bed, a nurse sitting beside him, spooning a very weak broth into his mouth.

The sensation was heaven. The warmth of the broth as it slid down his throat, the occasional metallic click of the spoon on his teeth, the smell of the nurse sitting next to him. He reveled in such small things, taken for granted, looked at, and discarded by most.

His sight had improved greatly but was faded, not quite the vivid colors he recalled. All limbs were responding, if not exactly as directed. The background noise had faded a little and the sun was low enough to be a faded, light yellow ball, thirty minutes away from the ocean.

Bits and pieces of thoughts and ideas came to him like a collage of photographs flashed on a screen too quickly, only long enough to know they were familiar. The doctor had come and gone and promised a lengthy talk tomorrow, when he was stronger. The only thing Michael knew right now was that he'd been in a coma for a year, almost to the day.

No television was provided, explanation being sensory overload so soon after such a traumatic experience. That was fine with him. He thought the sunset was more than enough entertainment for the moment.

At some point he wondered about the lack of a mirror in the bathroom but new sensations overcame him and the thought was lost.

The nurse left with his meal tray and Michael sat watching the white hot ball get closer to the green, cool pool below. Something seemed so important about the sun and the ocean but he just couldn't put his finger on it.

"Hello, I'm, Theodora Miller."

Michael reluctantly turned away from the window to discover a wrinkled old woman in a wheelchair at his bedside.

"Hi, I'm, Michael, or so they tell me," he responded as he studied the stooped bag of bones clutching a joystick on the arm of the wheelchair.

"Very nice to meet you, Michael," she said as she jerked the joystick and rolled a little closer. Michael watched her lean up, her head shaking a little as a bright green eye seemed to study him closely.

"You are a handsome one," she cooed from her perch.

Michael laughed a little and smiled down at the grandmotherly woman paying complements to him.

"What happened to you, Michael?"

"They say I've been in a coma for a long time. They haven't told me much else yet," he responded, pausing before continuing, "And what are you here for?"

"Oh, Michael, don't worry about me. My days are few, but I've been blessed with more life than you can imagine." She sat a few minutes inspecting Michael as he returned the favor, taking note of the contrasting beauty of the one green eye to the rest of the old woman's body.

"But one thing, Michael," the old woman finally ventured.

"What would that be ma'am?"

"My great great granddaughter will be here in a few days," she started weaving her tale, "and she's a beauty, Michael. I want you to take care of her for me, well, in case I don't make it."

Michael regarded the old woman with warmth and sadness. He saw no harm in placating what might be one of her last wishes. "You can count on it ma'am, especially if she's as beautiful as you are."

"I mean it Michael," she insisted, "I'm someone that's seen more of life than you can imagine and I have a feeling about you two. She'll fall in love with you as soon as she sees you. You listen to an old woman, Michael; I know what I'm talking about."

Michael laughed and it felt good. Just to be happy and talking to someone felt wonderful. "I promise ma'am," Michael answered.

With that, the old woman pulled and pushed on her joystick, slowly maneuvering out the door to Michael's room.

*****

"Why doesn't he remember," she asked interrogating the doctor.

"Remember, Theodora, this is our first full transfer," he explained patiently, "The memories are all there, the brain just has to connect all the dots. That may take some time."

"Will that happen to me?"

"Honestly, I don't know for sure. Maybe the same at first but we're putting the same information back into the same brain," he explained, "Your mind should connect the dots very quickly. Maybe immediately."

"For Michael it's like putting someone else's shoes on," the doctor continued, "They don't seem to fit just yet. We need to give him time to break them in." 

Theda sat rocking slightly in her wheelchair.

"Let's hope so my good doctor," she said ominously, "Rudolph has his instructions."

The doctor smiled broadly as she maneuvered her electric chariot out the door. He wasn't worried in the least. Success was only a day away, he was sure of it.

*****

Bob felt filthy as he stood in front of the pimply faced girl behind the check-in counter. His money disappeared and a small, plastic key was slid across the smooth top. She pulled her hand back before he had a chance to accidentally brush against her.

In the room he threw the small duffle bag on the bed and pulled out his cell phone.

"Did you do as I said?" was the first thing he heard.

"Yes, Mistress, I did," was his compliant response.

"Are you filthy, Robert," she inquired.

Bob walked to a mirror over a low dresser decorated with cigarette burns along the edge and ventured a look. His eyes were black holes and a thick growth of stubble covered his face. Something was crusted in his growth of beard and up in his hair. The same off-white stains could be seen on the lapels of his jacked and dark blue tie.

His mistress had commented, that first time, how fastidious he seemed to be about his appearance. His collar stiff and white, the crease in his slacks ran perfectly from the top of his highly polished shoes. 'I will set you free, Robert,' she'd promised.

"Yes I am, Mistress," was his quiet reply.

"Good. You've started paying for your sins."

Bob cleared his throat and almost gagged on the taste that came up.

"Where are you?" his mistress inquired over his cell phone.

"Somewhere in Nebraska," he responded, his voice a monotone.

"Good. Okay, you have some homework to do before you sleep."

Bob waited, obediently for his Mistresses instructions.

"You must go out and find a place, Robert," she instructed, "You'll know the place when you find it. You must take a cup and beg on the corner until someone asks for something in return," her sinister chuckle told him what was coming, "And you will give it to them, Robert, and you must not clean yourself."

The phone went dead in his ear and Bob looked around the room for a paper cup.

Glancing at the duffle bag he opened it and pulled his latest acquisition out, its weight in his hand a comfort as he thought how long and slender Tammy's fingers were. He grinned recalling the pruning shears had been on sale. 

*****

Michael shuffled down the hall propped on the arm of his nurse. His knees wobbled and his breath was slightly labored, but he felt like a new man.

Noticing the other patient rooms along the hall were closed he asked, "Am I the only one on this floor?"

"Actually, we only have two patients right now," the nurse replied smoothly, following the script she'd learned, "You and Mrs. Miller. I understand her great great grand granddaughter will be joining us, maybe tomorrow."

"How can that be," inquired Michael, incredulously. Another thought lurked but he was unable to pluck it from its hiding place.

Sticking to the script, the nurse continued, "Well, we're a very specialized hospital that only takes life and death cases, cases with no other hope. You are actually our first real case."

Turning back Michael was tired and somewhat disappointed when he noted it was only twenty feet back to his room.

With the help of his nurse, he swung his feet back into the bed. A mild sedative sent Michael on a dreamland journey that was filled with places and faces he seemed to recognize. A sunset that lingered, burning the back of his mind.

*****

Theodora dreamed of her small flower garden in Mexico, of Jacarandas in bloom and shaved ice in the town square where they walked, arm in arm together, listening to boleros played by a trio that walked from eatery to eatery, a song for a small gratuity.

The call to evening mass at the town's main cathedral still rung clear as a small gathering of people made their way through the big wooden doors that were the entrance. Someplace they could visit but neither felt comfortable in.

Later that evening, a blanket of darkness hid their secret as they'd sipped margaritas and snuggled on a balcony above one of the town's many narrow streets.

Her gnarled frame was suddenly free of the crippling arthritis that kept her in her wheelchair as she flew in her father's arms, dancing a rumba.

In her dream she was suddenly beside a younger man, a younger version of her father. More importantly, she was younger; she was twenty again as they walked through the small town, arm in arm, a trio of musicians at hand playing a song for them and well wishers lining their path. They were headed for the church. They were finally welcomed, even celebrated as they stood before a priest and made their promises.

She watched as Michael turned, raised her veil, tilted her chin and leaned down to kiss her. A stolen moment from her past she had vowed to re-live. Something she now believed they could share together through a living eternity.

Yes, father, we have done it.

*****

Sitting in the diner, Linda was trying to explain how a bear of a Russian, that spoke accented English, had ended up in California flipping burgers, completely ignoring what had taken place earlier.

Nataliya had been at the desk as they checked in. She'd been happy to see Linda had returned.

Tammy blushed when Nataliya commented on her lovely friend; a trace of insinuation lacing her words.

"She didn't mean anything by it," Linda tried to reassure as they walked to the room. She added, "It just makes her happy to think I've found someone. Anyone."

Tammy stood in the doorway and stared. "But there's only one bed," she'd said, a small trace of trepidation laced with anger in her voice.

"This was our room," Linda explained, "Michael's, and mine. Nataliya, probably thought I'd be alone," she continued, stumbling a little on the words, "I doubt they have another room but we can try if you want."

Tammy threw her overnight bag on the bed; one Linda had found in the back of her closet and sat beside it.

"What now?" was all she'd asked.

"We try to find the Entity," Linda had responded as her own bag joined Tammy's and she started setting up the laptop and cam on a white Formica table placed beneath, in Tammy's opinion, the most hideous orange and amber swag lamp in the world.

Tammy had felt it was time to return Linda's clothing and grabbed her bag, heading for the bathroom. "I think I'm going to shower," Tammy explained, "Do you need me?" she asked pausing in the doorway.

Linda had still been busy with the laptop and didn't look up when she answered, "No. I think I've got it."

Tammy languished, exhausted from the last three days activities. She'd tried to make sense of the Entity, the ICB and Linda.

Surprised when she slid the shower door open to find Linda leaning against the sink, she'd glanced around a little nervously looking for a towel. It appeared in Linda's hand as it was draped across her bare shoulders and Linda started rubbing, chasing drops of moisture from her body.

Tammy couldn't stand it any more. "What?" she exploded, "What are you doing, Linda?"

Tammy stood naked, water dripping from her body, trembling slightly with rage and Linda froze, her hand pressing the towel into the small of Tammy's back, her face flushed with an odd mixture of expressions somewhere between anger and emotional strain forming.

It had poured forth in a small stream, phrases and words, from Linda's mouth, "It happened a long time ago, I got, well, I don't know how to tell you," gasping once for a breath, Linda continued, "I had a, well, a problem. And then, Michael, then he died," another gasp, "I've been alone. I haven't touched ...," her voice trailed off.

Tammy had left her in the bathroom, towel draping from her hand, and went into their room where she'd found her bag unpacked and her clothing folded neatly on the bed, a pair of jeans, something silky for underneath, and a blue, V-neck cotton top laid out beside it.

She'd put the clothes on without speaking as Linda had ventured into the room, picked up her purse and explained that the Entity wasn't responding, maybe it would be a good time to eat.

*****

The Entity was busy with the historical photo's the California Historical Society had been scanning, labeling and putting in a database. It wasn't that he hadn't noticed Linda; it was that something seemed important about the person he'd seen on the security camera, struggling along the hall at Waverly Hill.

It was time consuming, even for him, to form each photo and study it. But it had been worth it.

*****

"Look, Tammy, I'm sorry," Linda said as they walked back to the room together, "I really didn't mean anything by it. I guess I just wanted to," Linda hesitated before finally finishing, "feel the warmth of another person."

Tammy found center in the diner enjoying the food and constant attentions of Leo. She'd noticed Linda's tendency to flip the play cards on the jukebox remote and how she'd smiled openly over the meal and laughed at Leo's silly antics.

"Its okay, Linda, I shouldn't have yelled at you."

"It started with a case I headed up," Linda continued to explain in spite of Tammy's response, "You remind me of someone I met. Someone I actually became a little obsessed with."

Noticing an uncertain expression on Tammy's face, Linda went on, "No, nothing happened. We're actually very close friends now," pointing at the Jaguar parked by some evergreens in the parking lot, Linda explained the highlights of the case, how Jan had been involved and how the car was a gift.

"Let me see if I understand. You had a, well, a thing for another woman. Some time ago. Then you had a boyfriend and he died. Then I come along. No one special, and you just have this urge?"

Linda seemed uncomfortable hearing it stated so plainly. She blurted, "Wait! I didn't say you aren't special!" Realizing what she'd just said, she tried to backtrack, "I was just drying you off! That's all! You were looking for a towel."

"So it has nothing to do with me. You're just 'on the make' so to speak?"

Linda finally understood and protested, "No! I'm not just on the make! I don't do these things to any woman that comes along. I'm not trying to just cop a feel. A quick thrill ..." She became quiet when she noticed a couple walk by in the parking lot, both had stopped talking and were watching them.

Tammy leaned in a little and whispered, "Then what were you trying to do, Linda?"

It was too much. Linda couldn't say it. She was sure Tammy would think she was nuts. Shifting her purse from one shoulder to the other, she replied defensively, "I said I was sorry. Can we drop it now?"

Tammy waved and smiled at Nataliya as they walked past the registration desk. She finally felt Linda's stare and felt uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry, Linda, I think I overreacted." Tammy watched as Linda opened the door to their room and followed her all the way into the bathroom and volunteered, "I kissed a woman once, back in college. Five minutes of drunken groping while a bunch of frat boys cheered," Tammy leaned on the counter close enough to feel Linda's body heat as she brushed her teeth and continued, "I've never known exactly what happened. I just remember waking up in a pair of boy's boxers, in a bed full of bodies."

Linda looked sideways as she continued brushing, to see if Tammy was upset by the memory. Noting a rather evil grin, Linda laughed around her toothbrush.

"The explorations of youth," Tammy added with a slightly nervous laugh.

A ping from the laptop got their attention and they settled in gaudy looking chairs around the laptop.

'Hi,' was the cryptic greeting. 

Linda shifted slightly in front of the keyboard and typed, 'This is Linda I'm in the room.'

'Hi Woo. I've missed you.'

Tammy and Linda exchanged glances and Linda continued.

'Who are you?'

'Someone that wanted to watch a sunset with you. Could you connect the camera?'

Linda just sat there staring at the text box, an odd expression on her face. Finally, Tammy reached behind the laptop, found the cable for the camera and plugged it in.

'Hi Linda, it's me, Michael.'

Linda gasped while her fingers froze on the keyboard. Recovering, she pounded out her retort.

'That's not funny. Who the hell are you?'

'I see you're not alone. Hi Tammy.'

Tammy just waved slightly at the camera and continued to watch Linda.

'I didn't want to leave her alone. I was afraid you might attack her or something. Who are you?'

'I used to be a hairy old gaijin. One your grandmother warned you about.'

The meaning came to her at once and Linda hammered the keys, 'How do you know that?'

'You told me.'

This didn't stop Linda as she frantically typed, 'I only said that once. Who are you? The Russian's, the Chinese, some kind of spy?'

'We were watching the sunset, waiting for the hiss. It started raining and we headed for Leo's in the car. Do you remember?'

Linda seemed to deflate as she read the words again. A small whimper slipped between her lips. A deep red flush moved up her neck and masked her face. Tammy reached for the laptop, turning it slightly, and typed, 'Why are we here.'

Linda watched through moist eyes as the response came up on the screen, 'To complete the journey.'













Chapter 10

Fox News – Arthur Wright expressed grave concern today for his esteemed opponent, Republican presidential hopeful, Kerry Richards, when he received word that Richards had fainted at a farmers market in Texas, apparently from heat exhaustion. Richard's campaign manager played down what happened pointing out the temperature was 102 in the shade at the time. Richards refused a hospital visit, being treated by paramedics and joking with reporters on his way back to the campaign bus. 'And I thought the hottest thing in Texas was the Chili.'

****

Scanner Bob could see the lights, literally millions of them, as he dropped down to the flat desert floor and headed into Las Vegas.

His body ached, his mind was numb and he was filthy. He didn't think his current state would get him into the Venetian so he continued to skirt the town until he found the seediest looking motel on the strip.

He noted the black, rancid water standing two feet below the edge of the pool, an abundance of trash and rotting garbage around a rusty green dumpster. Then dogs came out of the shadows chasing something that quickly materialized into a rat.

Adorned in aluminum siding, accented with dents, scratches and dirty streaks, Bob decided he would have no trouble at all getting a room here.

The front desk was manned by a sun dried old being that Bob had trouble defining as male or female. Hair in a long grey ponytail, no visible whiskers or stubble along the rut filled face, wearing old denim overalls, the kind Mr. Green Jeans was so fond of, he really couldn't decide. He did notice the horrendous smell of the office smothered his own unpleasant fragrance. A mixture of body sweat, food and a toilet that didn't seem to flush properly filling the small, confined space. Bob gagged a little while explaining his needs.




The Entity Pt. 04



"A room ya say?" the prune of a face opened a toothless gape and nearly yelled back at Bob in question.

Bob also noticed a tattered old couch occupied by two round mounds of flesh. Their dirty, smudged, skin nearly lost in the shadows.

It was hard to determine age but Bob guessed somewhere north of fifty. Both equally fat, both with huge sagging breasts that creased what appeared to be matching sundresses about where he thought their navel's might be. Calves the size of small hams and feet that bulged around rubber flip flop's, toenails long, ragged and black from lack of washing.

"We're Paula and Pauline," the unsolicited answer came from a small, petite mouth set between flabby, shaking jowls, "We work around here," the other added, a large, flabby arm making a general movement Bob took to indicate the general area of the planet earth.

Bob was transfixed which made Paula and Pauline nervous. "We're twins," was thrown into the air, "We know how to make a city slicker like you feel real good," the other said. Bob was actually tempted. Maybe I can practice he thought.

A loud slap brought his attention back to the unisex prune face and he looked down to find a key. Dropping a few bills on the counter he slid the key away, turned, tipped an imaginary hat at Paula and Pauline, and headed back out the door to a smattering of giggles and snickers from the twins.

"Yes, mistress, I'm filthy."

There was no mirror to look into, just a cleaner spot on the wall above an old broken down dresser, where a mirror used to be. But he could tell. In spite of the stale musty odor that permeated the room, dried feces he'd found in the un-flushable toilet and the dead rat in the middle of the bed, he could still smell himself. Still feel the filth and grime on his body.

"You should be. They arrested my husband today," she let it hang in the air like a fart in an elevator before continuing, "I thought about calling you back so I could punish you myself," her voice became low and ominous, "but they'll arrest you as soon as they find you."

Sweat started to run down his forehead mixing with the residue of his completed homework over the days. The room was stifling and his feet started itching.

"First you have something you have to do for me, Bob," he heard a small crack from the whip she surely held at the ready, "Will you arrive tomorrow?"

"Yes, Mistress," was the submissive reply.

"Good. I want to talk to her when you find her."

"Yes, Mistress."

"Now, Bob, I think you should pay penance. What do you think, Bob?"

Bob's body trembled as he waited.

"I don't need to tell you, Bob. You know what to do."

Clicking the phone shut, Bob dropped it on the bed and headed back to the office.

Paula and Pauline were engaged in an animated conversation about city slicker's when he pushed the door open.

He pulled out four crisp one hundred dollar bills and arrogantly waved them under their noses. He didn't have to speak. They nearly tipped the old couch over trying to scramble up and grab the bills from his hand.

They were all giggles and blushes back in the room when Bob opened the duffle bag and let them see the bundle of money inside. Flopping on the bed beside him, they watched wide eyed as he dug around in the neatly bound bills, stacks and stacks of them, to find his latest purchase. Truck stops definitely rated high on Bob's list of great shopping places.

He wasn't sure if it was Paula or Pauline that exclaimed, "Kinky!" when the four rolls of duct tape fell from the small plastic sack onto the mattress, small puffs of dust lifting into the air from the bedspread.

They didn't notice the gun, pruning shears or knives among the stacks of money. Yes, I think practice is in order thought Bob.

*****

Linda sat to the side watching Tammy, the laptop now in front of her, allowing her to type.

'What journey?'

'Our journey. The journey Linda and I started a year ago.'

Tammy knew the generalities of what had happened and couldn't guess what that had to do with a world wide computer attack.

'Michael is dead,' Tammy cringed slightly as she looked over at Linda and hit the enter key.

'Yes he is.'

'Why do you say you're Michael?'

'I'm not Michael as Linda knew me. I'm Michael's mind.'

Linda read the line and pulled the laptop to her again.

'How can you be Michael's mind?'

'I don't know exactly.'

Linda laughed, more of a sarcastic bark when she read the last line.

'Who runs you? Who distributes you on the internet?' Linda typed, wanting answers to other things.

'I escaped,' came up in the chat box.

"Escaped," Linda repeated out loud, "from a Looney bin I bet," she finished out loud, turning toward Tammy.

Tammy just raised her hands as if fending off a frontal attack and said, "Don't look at me."

'You escaped, no one created you. You want us to find you and destroy you? Is that about it?' she pounded her point home with a heavy hit on the enter key.

'Yes.'

'Listen, I'm going to think about this. Can we talk in the morning?'

'Yes. But I think we have to get started soon. Time is important.'

'Okay. We'll talk in the morning.'

'One other thing, Linda.'

The only sound in the room was the gentle whir of the ventilation fan coming from the laptop.

'What?'

'Did you like your ring?'

Linda exploded, a finger shooting to the power button, holding it down until the laptop went off. Removing the power cord and battery, she nearly slammed the screen shut and stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. Tammy stood on the other side of the door listening briefly to Linda's muffled sobs.

Deciding it had been another long day she pulled out a cotton Tee-shirt, pealed all her clothes off and slid between the sheets contemplating what they'd learned, if anything, about the Entity.

Given tonight's revelations, true or not, the word family came back to haunt her, provoking a chill that crept slowly, deliberately, up her spine.

She suddenly wished Linda would come out and crawl between the covers with her.

Five minutes later she got her wish when Linda opened the bathroom door, dropped a trail of clothing to the opposite side of the bed and crawled in. Reaching up, she turned off the lamp on her night stand plunging them both into darkness, her back to Tammy.

Tammy could feel the mattress quake and still hear quiet sobbing and the occasional sniffle. Slowly, gently, she scooted across the mattress between the sheets until her hand rested on Linda's bare shoulder. Leaning close she whispered, "It's not him, Linda. It's just someone with a very sick mind."

Tammy felt Linda shift and realized she was scooting back into her, falling into the spoon shape of her body. She stiffened when Linda reached for her hand and draped it, like a blanket, across the front of her naked body. "I'm sorry. I just need someone to hold me," Linda whispered back.

Tammy sighed and rolled into Linda's body, hugging her close taking note of the contrast between their two bodies. Similar in size and shape, but different in many details, she felt Linda's body mold into hers as if they were one. Creating a blanket of warmth and security between their bodies they both clung fast as they drifted off to sleep.

*****

Tom was surprised but not astounded when the chat box opened on his laptop, a line of X's and O's as a chat name.

'Hi, Tom'

The Entity had disappeared earlier in the day. Reports were still coming in but best guess was it could no longer be found. Anywhere.

For Tom, and everyone else involved in the crisis, the case was far from closed. The Entity had left as quickly, and quietly, as it had arrived. The current state of things could mean a change in strategy, regrouping or the taking of a next step. Any of those meant escalation and current results clearly indicated the world would surrender if the situation escalated.

'Hi back,' Tom sent.

While Tom found the Entity's abilities frightening, he found the Entity itself fascinating. 

'How have you been, Tom?'

'Until your appearance, I was doing fine.'

'I'm sorry about that, Tom. How's Mary?'

How odd thought Tom. A computer attacker that apologizes and asks how my wife is. But then, a spouse's existence and name could be considered common knowledge.

'Mary's, fine,' was all he sent.

'You remember, Tom, when you and Mary took Linda and a close friend to a pub?'

Tom read the message again. Yes, he recalled. The special friend had been Michael.

'Yes.'

'What do you want to know about that night?'

He wasn't sure where this was going but Tom thought a second and typed, 'Name the pub.'

'Butchertown Pub.'

'What did I drink that night?'

'Draft.'

He smiled as he typed the next question, 'What did Mary drink?'

'She didn't because she doesn't.'

Impressive but still achievable with sufficient observation. He typed again, 'What was Linda wearing?'

'Hip huggers and a small, pink, midriff top – short sleeved – and a black lace thong with very small red roses on the front.'

Tom just sat there, staring. He had no idea how accurate the Entity's description of Linda's intimate attire was but it had certainly been stated with confidence. Before he could type another message came up.

'You paid the bill with cash while Linda and Mary went to the restroom. You hate to carry change. You hate even more receiving a handful of change back when paying for something. Linda's special friend gave you a nickel and two pennies, not because you asked for it. Because he knew you that well.'

How could the Entity know? Knowing his personal disdain for a pocket full of change could still be a case of close observation, but knowing the exact amount he needed to avoid change on that particular night. Impossible.

With profound trepidation, Tom typed the next question, knowing before it was sent, what the answer would be, 'Who was the special friend?'

His finger hovered over the enter key before finally pressing down. The response was immediate.

'Me.'

*****

"Come on, Larry, do it for me." The raven haired beauty pleaded but Larry was firm.

"No. It's not right," finally he spit out what he really wanted to say, "It's nasty."

Allessandra Martinelli slid off the bed and slipped her black heels on. Walking to the sliding glass doors that opened onto a small balcony, ten floors up, she fished for the drape pull, found it and opened the drapes they'd been making love behind.

Looking over her shoulder, she said, "Your loss," as she slid a door open and stepped out to lean on the railing.

Larry cringed when he saw windows lit, small yellow and white pools of life, from the building across the street. Pulling the sheet up, he wanted to run from the room when he saw Allessandra's hand come up and wave, a shadowy form in a window almost directly across from them, waving back.

At thirty three, Allessandra wanted some excitement. Larry was a good man, even a moderately good lover, well, except for that one thing, but she wanted to feel the thrill. Her naked form turned and she leaned on the rail, crossed her legs at the ankle, and beckoned.

It was tempting, Larry thought. God, she was beautiful. He was almost to the edge of the bed when he noticed the traffic sounds from below. No way, he thought, what if someone drove by that knew he lived there.

Disgusted, she strode back into the bedroom and started picking up clothes from the floor and getting dressed.

"I know you've got balls, Larry. I've played with them enough. Get them out and use them every once in a while."

With that, she was gone and Larry pulled the sheet off the bed, wrapping in it, walked to the drapes and closed them.

*****

The doctor glanced at his watch. Yes, he thought, quite appropriate. The wee hours of the morning is when all evil spirits come forth.

The face of a freckled china doll framed by long red hair, cheekbones that spoke of breading and intelligence. Her button nose and pale pink lips with a puffy, inviting look; even when asleep drew a sigh of appreciation.

Stepping down the bed he took one of her delicate hands in his reveling in the warmth that radiated from it. The fingers long and delicate, the hands of a musician, he thought.

All had gone as planned. Gerald and Kevin had gazed upon Theodora Elizabeth Miller transfixed as the transfer had been made.

The doctor pulled a sheet and blanket up and nodded to the nurse as he left for his laboratory.

Stepping back into the tank room, now occupied by two empty glass growing tanks, he walked to the next door, the door that held so much fascination for Kevin and Gerald, placed his thumb on a small red scanner and waited for the click that said the door was unlocked.

The soft green glow that permeated the cavernous room belied the ominous intent within.

A technician, clipboard in hand, glanced his way, as she walked from glass tube to glass tube, making notations.

No faces could be seen but the doctor knew them all well. Almost family he thought. He walked briskly to a far corner and looked at two in particular.

Yes he thought, one of you will do nicely for me. 

*****

Scanner Bob was also walking arm in arm with evil that night.

No rest for the weary he thought. The twins had been very entertaining. As promised, they'd kept him up all night. The sun was just beginning to permeate the dilapidated motel room as he gathered his tools, stuffed them in his duffle bag and headed out the door.

He'd made many trips to the old rusty dumpster during the night. Glancing out the window of his room he could see that more dogs had materialized and where sniffing around the wheels and licking something red that dripped steadily through the rusty holes.

Both bound and gagged, they still thought it was all part of the game when he pulled out the knives and started cutting clothing away from their bodies. He even smiled and played along as he whispered a constant litany of profanities and lustful promises in their ears.

Pauline passed out when the first cut was made. Paula didn't. Considering it was Paula that first received Bob's undivided attention, the pain kept her eyes open wide as Pauline came and went, opening her eyes long enough to see the changes Bob was creating in her sister before straining against the duct tape and passing out again.

Feeling a need for praise from his Mistress, Bob flipped open his phone and hit the speed dial.

The strong male voice that answered surprised him sending a small shiver of jealousy up his spine; his immediate thought was that his mistress was breaking in a new one. Someone to take his place.

"This is the FBI. Who's calling this number?" prompted Bob to fold his phone shut, drop it in the dusty gravel and stomp it several times with the heel of his bloody shoe until he was sure it was unsalvageable by anyone that might happen by and pick it up.

Resolve was quick to settle in. It really didn't matter. No matter what, he would carry out the wish of his mistress.

Dropping the duffle bag behind the front seat, Bob slid behind the steering wheel, started the engine and headed west.

He felt a slight exhilaration. With no leash pulling, he felt changed. He felt he was moving up. He'd learned so much from the twins. He'd peeled away so many layers to find their sensitive spots. Maybe it was time for him to become the master.

With a chuckle, he thought just how much he'd learned from the twins about making Tammy bend to his will.















Chapter 11

CNN – Democratic presidential hopeful, Arthur Wright, made a surprise visit yesterday to the Springs Valley school system in Springs Valley, Indiana, to watch democracy in progress as the school held its mock elections. While the students are not really old enough to vote, Springs Valley, like many schools around the nation, hold mock elections in an effort of expose the students to the mechanics of democracy. For years, many candidates have seen this as a good indicator, feeling most students are strongly influenced by what their parents think and say. Richards was chagrinned when a 13 year old girl raised her hand during an impromptu election talk that jokingly included the phrase 'Be sure and vote for me', and pointed out that voting laws didn't allow Mr. Richards to campaign on voting day. Republican presidential hopeful, Kerry Richards, was quick to pick up on Wright's snafu when he quipped 'That's what you get when a kid runs for president.'

*****

"Are you sure this is how you want it done?" the doctor asked again.

Theda lay on a gurney in the operating theater. With some effort she turned her head to the right and gazed at the naked body of the young woman on the gurney beside her. Beautiful she thought. I'll be beautiful again.

"She will know what to do," was her whispered response.

The Doctor nodded. These details had been gone over several times but he felt it was prudent to ask one last time. Turning, he nodded to Gerald behind a glass window and turned to the saline drip attached to Theda's arm. Raising a syringe he applied the prescribed amount and turned a small blue thumb wheel that allowed the sedative to mix. Looking at Theda's eyes he watched as they closed slightly and her mouth fell slack.

Walking to her head he patted her shoulder and whispered, "Sleep old girl. I'll see you shortly."

Kevin watched as the last scan was completed and noted a few of the words as they scrolled across the screen. Beautiful, young, love and father.

Gerald started the write as the doctor took pulses and glanced at monitors pushed to one side.

"How long?" Kevin asked.

"At least eight hours," Gerald replied, "Maybe a little more."

*****

Tammy woke first to find she and Linda were a tangle of arms and legs in the huge bed and her Tee shirt was pushed up under her arms leaving her completely exposed. Linda's head rested firmly on Tammy's breast bone below her chin, between her breasts, one arm snaking up as if in a dancer's intimate embrace.

A blanket of remorse seemed to smother her as she lay very still, distracted by the scent of Linda's hair as the heavy floral drape that covered the window was framed by a soft gray light marking the start of a new day.

What an idiot, she thought. How did I get here, tangled in the arms of this overbearing, independent, bossy, and she had to admit, beautiful woman? She immediately reprimanded herself for finding Linda beautiful.

Tammy's next concern was escape. How do I get out of this? This was a place she'd never contemplated before, much less visited.

Tammy could feel the weight of Linda's leg draped over her own. A knee pressing persistently between her slightly parted thighs which only sharpened her anxiety.

A soft sigh escaped Linda's barely parted lips and Tammy felt the rapid beating of her heart turn into a pounding as her chest tightened and her breathing became so shallow she thought she'd pass out at any moment.

She could feel the heat from each exhaled breath linger between her breasts as Linda's breathing continued in a slow, lazy sleeper's rhythm.

I can't do this, she thought. I shouldn't be doing this, was next, even as her hand splayed out on the smooth skin in the small of Linda's back. I have a boyfriend, was next in her stream of consciousness. If not a soul mate, then a very intimate, male, roommate! 

"Um," It was long and drawn out as Linda shifted slightly.

Tammy's eyes squeezed shut like a child hiding in plain view from the unknown, as if that act would throttle the monster hiding beneath her bed, when the small sound emanated from Linda's throat. Her hand jerked back from the small of Linda's back and she felt a sheen of sweat form on her skin as Linda shifted and snuggled to a more intimate position, Linda's knee probing more insistently, forcing Tammy's legs to splay out further, her head shifting until an exhaled sigh from Linda blew across a pale nipple. 




The Entity Pt. 04



Tammy's fingers shook and a squelched moan of frustration escaped her lips as she felt the tiny orb come to life, extending slowly just inches from Linda's mouth.

No. I can't. Tammy shifted slightly and contemplated again how to extract herself.

"Linda," she whispered.

No response from Linda but Tammy was unable to deny the very real response her own body was experiencing as the monster seemed to have slipped from beneath the bed to taunt her.

"Linda," Tammy implored with conviction that seemed to waver along with her voice.

The response was as shocking as the reality of the moment, when Linda raised her head from between Tammy's bare breasts, her half-moon eyes meeting Tammy's, to ask "What?" before gently returning the side of her head to the warm, intimate cradle between Tammy's breasts, her ear pressed firmly against Tammy's pounding heart.

Tammy's breathing quickened more when she realized Linda was awake and very aware of what was happening.

"I can't, Linda," Tammy whispered to the top of Linda's head while trying to ignore her body's traitorous response.

Linda lifted her head once more and slid slowly, intimately, up Tammy's body until their breasts were pressed firmly together and Linda's lips were half an inch from Tammy's.

"I didn't ask you to," Linda whispered back. 

Tammy's eyes the size of saucers as she paid a five second visit to eternity, her lips parted as she choked on a response, then Linda's head dipped slightly and her lips landed gently on Tammy's, the chastity of a friend's quick peck betrayed by the heat that pulsed between the pressure points of their bare bodies.

As quickly as it happened, it ended, and Linda slid off Tammy's body, out from under the sheet, to the floor. A lingering look as her gaze roamed freely over Tammy's exposed body. Linda turned, heading for the bathroom.

Tammy jerked the sheet up over her head and growled in frustration when she realized her eyes had followed the silken black flow of Linda's hair down her back, to come to rest on her bare bottom just before she disappeared through the bathroom door. 

*****

Michael watched as his nurse prepared breakfast. He was surprised at how much joy he found in the two strips of bacon that were nestled beside his bowl of oatmeal.

The nurse sat at the ready as he took up the task of feeding himself. His hand shook less and leaning away from the pillow to meet his spoon was easier. Not as sloppy as earlier attempts.

"You're doing great," encouraged his nurse.

Michael mumbled a thank you around a mouth full of oatmeal and continued contemplating the dream he'd had in the wee hours of the morning.

"Is the doctor coming in this morning?" He asked as he crunched another bite of bacon.

"I believe he will be stopping by later in the day," his nurse responded as she toyed with the zipper on the front of her white uniform, "I believe he's receiving a new patient this morning. Actually, I think he pulled an all-nighter but I'm sure he'll want to see his star patient."

Michael could see the shadow of the building as it stretched out toward the sea, the sun coming up to the back. The sky was a clear blue that stretched from the top of the window, down to a slate green mat that rippled gently. 

He'd dreamed of a Linda last night. His mind a jumble of images, one he'd labeled as Linda. It wasn't clear but occurrences returned and he wondered if they'd really happened to him or if they were fanciful imaginings.

"Have I always been here?" Michael asked his nurse.

Scrutinizing the nurse he could tell the question made her uncomfortable in spite of her quick answer.

"You were in a car accident. Do you recall that?" she asked.

"I seem to. How long ago was that?"

"A little over a year," she replied with a sincere smile.

Swinging his legs off the bed, his back to the nurse, he slid gingerly to the floor and stood a minute getting his balance. His nurse appeared but only watched, ready to grab his arm if something went awry.

Still flatfooted but much more stable, Michael walked to the window and scanned the grounds. Impeccable. But then that was the problem, wasn't it? The grounds were beautiful. Everything was beautiful. But where were the people?

He realized she hadn't answered his question. Turning slightly he asked again, "Have I been here since the accident?"

The nurse stood off to his left and behind but he could still see her reflection in the window. She's hiding something he thought.

"I've only been here a few weeks. Maybe you should bring that up with the Doctor."

"I'll do that," Michael responded as he turned from the window and started around the room. His legs were feeling much stronger and he felt confined. He needed to keep moving, get out, find some sunshine and meet some people.

Pausing at the door he looked to the right and saw what appeared to be a lobby or open space. "Is there anyplace we can get outside?" Michael asked as he stepped out and turned toward the lobby.

"Yes we can. Let me get a walker," the nurse replied as she stepped past him to a nurse's station to the left, "and be sure to walk slowly. You'll be surprised at how quickly you'll tire. You have no reserve strength." 

Michael moved slowly along the wall, one hand raised as his slipper sheathed feet carried him closer to the lobby. Stopping at the elevator he waited for the nurse to catch up pushing an aluminum walker ahead of her.

"Up or down?" he asked when she arrived.

"Up," she responded, "we'll go to the roof garden."

*****

Scanner Bob stunk. It was a cocktail of many things accumulated during the week, not the least of which was remnants of the twins.

He'd tried to keep the blood off himself. He'd even gone so far as removing all his clothes. The twin's had both snickered during his unembellished striptease. Even with their hands and feet taped together with the duct tape, they still didn't suspect anything quite as kinky as he had planned for them.

It had been the arteries. It was amazing how much force the heart had. It could shoot a stream of blood all the way across a room.

Watching the side of the road as he cruised along he finally found what he was looking for. Pulling in he parked off to the side among the semis and, dropping his suit jacket in a barrel set out for trash, he headed for the truckers entrance.

Paying a clerk that didn't even glance up from her magazine; he grabbed a couple of towels from a rack and headed for the showers.

"Sir!" The clerk certainly noticed when he came back, a towel wrapped around his waist and started grabbing clothes off racks.

"Sir," she looked him over as she moved closer and whispered, "You can't come out here like this. This is a public area. Anyone can come in."

"I'm sorry dear," and he smiled as she shushed him back toward the showers, "I seem to have left my suitcase in my truck and just wanted to buy some clothes."

"Tell me what size you need and I'll get you something," she admonished him through the swinging door of the shower room which brought a cacophony of cat calls and whistles from the truckers that were inside looking out at her.

He gave her his sizes and watched from the door as she held things up seeking approval.

Finally dressed, combed and shaved, Bob felt like a new man. Carrying his duffle bag he headed for the car. Opening the door he was overcome with the stench. Finding the truck wash unoccupied he asked if they could clean it up.

It was amazing what a new wardrobe, shave and a clean car could do.

On the road headed west once more, he reached across to the passenger seat and teased the bag containing his most recent purchase open. His hand snaked inside and he caressed the smooth enamel paint of the razor knife clicking the deadly blade out before clicking it back into the handle where, he thought, it waited patiently.

Yes, he thought, Tammy will just love this.

For the first time in a long time, Scanner Bob smiled like a six year old on Christmas morning.

*****

The diner was busy. The morning crowd was in full voice as Linda and Tammy wandered around the counter, taking up post on a pair of shiny red, chrome ringed, swivel stools where they could see Leo working the grill like the virtuoso organist at Notre Dame, his entire body needed to bring to life such wonderful creations.

"And how be my girls this morning?" Leo didn't miss a beat as he moved from flapjack to flapjack, a batch of bacon and flipped some silver rings that held fresh shaved hash browns.

Tammy didn't miss the inclusive plural of the question as she saw Linda out of the corner of her eye, turning on her stool until their knees came into contact. Tammy turned away enough to break the pressure point and noticed Linda start leafing through the jukebox remote play list distractedly.

"Good, Leo," Linda replied and turned to Tammy, her eyes searching to see what response would be given.

"Ah. Great, Leo, I slept so soundly I was lost for a few minutes when I woke up this morning," Tammy chimed in without looking at Linda.

"That what happen at, Leo's. All get lost in beauty of California of United States," Leo's arms raised in an expansive gesture and his voice became assertive as he continued. "But not worry. All soon find selves. All happy again."

All three chuckled and Leo turned back to his grill. Quick as a flash, stacks of golden flapjacks were assigned heavy china plates, eggs were edged with smoky strips of bacon, and hash browns found resting places as their rings were flipped back onto the grill to do service again.

"I'm sorry."

Tammy had found solitude in Leo's work at the grill and almost missed Linda's soft statement. Swiveling her stool slightly, Linda's face came into view as she leaned slightly toward Tammy. 

The expression was new, something Tammy hadn't seen from this complex woman and, inside, she cringed slightly knowing its source. Uncertainty certainly tarnished the usual bright shine of Linda's eyes, Tammy thought.

She was torn. A part of her wanted to comfort, longed to see Linda's eyes turn up in mirth, her jaw relax and her lips find the counterpoint smile that so beautifully offset her dark, almost black, half-moon eyes. Another part wanted to yell and throw things, to find a way to shove the monster underneath the bed again, to grab Linda by the shoulders, shake her and yell 'What the hell do you think you were doing'.

Thankfully, she was saved when Leo intervened and dictated what they would be having for breakfast. Tammy wondered if Paul Bunion ate here often.

She wasn't sure if she'd been saved from Linda's probing stare as she waited for a response or if a moment had been lost. Her gaze wandered around the diner as her thoughts finally found a resting place, no matter how uncomfortable the thoughts were, she reflected again on the Entity's reference to family.

Ignoring Linda's proffered apology, she asked, "What do you think the Entity meant when he brought up family?"

The play of emotions was painfully clear as Linda went from uncertainty, to hurt, to business. Slapping all the jukebox play cards to the right, Linda replied, "I think the Entity is some asshole geek sitting in his basement, messing with the world. I think we've all been taken for a ride and next week there will be headlines in the tabloids about the college kids from MIT that 'held the world ransom.' 

Tammy was confused at first, and a little hurt at Linda's seemingly cavalier attitude concerning a problem that was very real to her.

"I don't know, Tammy," Linda finally said after a beat, "Last night the Entity got a little too personal for me."

They ate in silence, said goodbye to Leo and headed back to the room. Tammy felt crushed and a blush blossomed when Leo treated her to a Leo Russian bear, bear hug.

"Let's see if we can find this thing," Linda said as she opened the door to find the bed made, bathroom cleaned and a note from Nataliya.

You need to talk to Tom at the office. N.

"You get the laptop going while I call, Tom."

Tammy sat watching the screen as the machine booted up. No sooner had the hard drive light stopped flickering then a message box opened.

'Hi. Who would I be talking to?'

'Tammy.'

'Good morning Tammy. Are you two ready to get started?'

Get started could mean many things. She was leery but game. That's what she'd come all the way out here for.

'Sure.'

'Good. Get a pad and pen. Write this down.'

Tammy noted Waverly Hills, Los Angeles, Theodora Elizabeth Miller and a few more bits of information.

'First, you have to go to Chicago and dive into the birth and death records at the courthouse. Write this down. Mary Elizabeth Miller. Find birth, marriage and children'

Tammy diligently noted the name followed by a date of birth.

'That's enough to get you started. I have you two booked out of San Francisco at 2:00 this afternoon.'

Linda hung up in time to see the last entry.

"What's that about?"

Holding up the note pad, Tammy answered, "Today's homework."

"Right."

Tammy wondered why Linda was in such a fowl mood and decided she couldn't afford to care.

"Let's go, Red."

Tammy cringed at the nickname that had haunted her in high school. Bitch she thought.

"Sure, Bitch."

Linda cringed and felt guilty as she tried to distance them both from what took place that morning in bed. But the guilt didn't come close to the trepidation she felt after Tom related his chat in the middle of the night with the Entity.

Her right hand came up and twisted the small, glittering piece of promise that occupied the ring finger of her left hand.



Please be sure to take the time to vote and comment. I hope you're enjoying the story as much as I enjoyed writing it. Much more to come. BTW – This is a sequel to The Sentinel. 



The Entity Pt. 05



This is the story of love lost, love explored, and love found in a place least expected. It is also a mystery that involves power, money, greed, and lust. While not as graphic as most here at Literotica I hope you find it an entertaining read. I apologize for the state of the work. It still needs proofing. Please vote and comment. 

JPMMURPHY 

Chapter 12

Scanner Bob had arrived. In more ways than one. San Francisco's beautiful streets, quaint streetcars and lush hillsides didn't distract Bob. He was ecstatic at finding the ICB, noting there were two buildings, both bearing the department's shield. His arms actually shook a little with anticipation.

His next big arrival was the Palace hotel at 2 Montgomery Street. Yes, he thought, all these years of embezeling, it was time to reap the benefits and enjoy life a little.

Built in 1875, the Palace Hotel, when first built, was designed to be the world's largest and most luxurious hotel, towering eight stories over San Francisco. The architects' first mandate had been to make the finest hotels in Europe pale in comparison. The host to presidents, royalty and giants of industry, was now host to Scanner Bob, a man that sought his own niche in the annals of fame.

Bob gestured to the Bellboy to come closer. Pulling his duffle bag open, he reached in and pulled out a bundle of $25,000 dollars and set it on the counter.

"A week. And I'll need a tailor sent to my room."

While a mere check-in clerk might have been taken aback, the hotel manager didn't miss a beat as he helped his new guest check-in to one of the 32 suits they offered.

"If you could sign here, please, Sir." A card was turned and pushed across the counter. Putting pen to paper Bob signed with a flare, as most members of the social elite do. Fred Johnston was common enough, he thought. 

An hour later Bob stood on a short platform as the young woman measured his inseam a second time, her fingers nestled snuggly into the edge of his briefs as she noted the measurement in a small note pad.

With no illusions of being a hunk, Bob's curiosity was pricked and he asked, "It's odd, isn't it?"

The raven haired beauty, her naturally curly locks pulled back, looked up from his knees with intelligent brown eyes and inquired, "What would that be, Sir?"

"Well, are you a seamstress or tailor?" He guessed she was in her mid 30's.

Her laugh was sweet and magical and Bob could feel himself becoming aroused as she explained. At some point in his life, he might have blushed as the bulge in the front of his briefs grew slightly, taking form, but Mistress had helped him overcome that.

"An only child? How sad," he replied as he looked down on Allessandra Martinelli, fourth generation Italian/American as she carried on the family tradition of fine tailoring for the rich and famous. 

Allessandra had become immune to the results her gentle and attentive labors sometimes had on her clients. She did note that this one wasn't as old as most her clients and the bellboy had tipped her off about the grungy duffle bag she'd spied thrown on the bed.

"Not really," she replied as she stood and leaned in to pass the tape measure behind Bob's back, her arms encircling him, as she passed the small metal tab from one hand to the other. 

Bob wasn't sure, but she was. Her breasts pressing firmly into his thighs just below his growing bundle.

When she continued, her warm breath blew across his stomach just above his navel and Bob felt a new surge of interest grow for Allessandra.

"My father wanted a boy to carry on the family business. He got a girl," she said in a mirthful voice as she took note of her clients growing interest in the family history.

Straightening, she didn't miss a beat as she knelt to take an outside leg measurement, not distracted in the least by the hard red protrusion sticking out of her Clients' elastic waistband. Serves Larry right, she thought.

"You can step down now," she said, stepping back to give Bob some more room. The small directive was comforting as he accepted it as a command.

With all his training, his own assertiveness had not been explored. He was even afraid he might stutter until he glanced over at the duffle bag full of one hundred dollar bills and put things back into perspective.

"So, three suits at $3,500 each, that would be $10,500," he ventured as Allessandra stood at his back, her warm soft thumbs pressing the tape into his skin at the edge of each shoulder, taking another measurement.

"Um, yes," was her distracted response as she pressed the brass tab of the tape measure into the base of his neck, sliding the tape between her thumb and forefinger, deliberately marking distance between her hand and her client with an extended pinky, the red painted nail sliding the length of Bob's spine to come to rest on his briefs at the top of the cleft between his buttocks.

Bob actually quaked a little and said, "This is the first time I've had suits tailor made," he paused as she came into view again, tape measure draped across an arm, her granny glasses almost at the tip of her strong Italian nose and a pencil and pad in the other hand, "Do tailors accept a tip?"

She seemed to study his tall, lanky frame, what she decided were gentle, hound dog eyes and ruffled hair before reaching for the waistband of his briefs, two fingers sliding in at the gap created by his intense interest in the family history, pulling the garment down in front.

Bob was flustered for a minute when she finally grasped his full interest in the family business, her warm palm sliding slowly back and forth a few times.

"I think there may be a measurement we forgot to take."

"S So," Bob did stammered slightly as his eyes rolled back slightly before refocusing, "That tip. What about a tip."

"It depends," she said with a business like, deliberate tone.

Bob watched as she pressed the brass end of the measuring tape into his splay of pubic hair and stretched it out. He gasped when she wrote the number down.

Turning from her client, Allessandra walked back to the small writing table that bore stacks of material samples and sat to transfer her notations to her client book. Her decision was made. The hell with Larry. She wanted to have a little fun, get a little wild. Now she'd find out just how good a tipper her client was.

Glancing over her shoulder she put the first offer on the table, "Well, I often think my clients get uncomfortable standing around in," her eyes drifted down to see if she still had his interest, "practically nothing. I've never offered before," which was true, "but I would say... ," and the pencil eraser came to her teeth as she chewed a little and Bob watched, not breathing, "a 10 percent tip would put me in the same state of dress as my client."

Bob gathered his thoughts for a minute, reached for the waistband of briefs and pushed them down past his knees. Stepping out of the puddle of white cotton material he crossed to the bed in two long strides and pulled the duffle bag to the edge.

Walking to the table he dropped a small stack of bills on the table while Allessandra watched his bouncing shaft.

Standing, the stack of bills folded inside her purse beside the first bundle, she walked behind the changing screen that had been set up by the hotel in the corner of the bedroom and Bob watched as articles of clothing were draped across the top.

When she stepped from behind the screen Bob felt a stutter come on and decided not to comment as his own personal incarnation of the Goddess Venus appeared in nothing but black high heels.

Bob didn't even count the rest of the stack as he dropped it on the table and asked, "And what will that get me?"

Glancing at the stack, Allessandra walked to Bob and kneeled at his feet. "That will get you anything your heart desires for a very long time," her voice low and sultry.

Scanner Bob idly wondered if Allessandra really understood how long a very long time could be. His hand started pulling on Allessandra's hair, urging her to find his rhythm as he wondered how hard it was going to be to find Tammy.

No matter, he thought, Allessandra's distractions are worth the wait.

*****

Theodora experienced the same sensation of pale, washed out vision when she first opened her eyes. Her throat felt dry and she moved her tongue around trying to find something to swallow. A blurry, white capped head appeared and she felt something hard prick her parched lips.

The head leaned down and said gently, "It's a straw. I have some water for you."

The sound was more of a fuzzy, melodic roar but Theda finally made out the small white protrusion and opened her mouth. Sucking greedily she saw another blurry head appear and lean in close.

"Theodora," came from the roar as it seemed to quiet some, "How are you, Dear?"

Theda swallowed more and turned her face toward the bobbing head. She knew who it was. Her thoughts were all in place and she was suddenly overcome with a wave of depression, followed by a raging anger.

"What happened you fool?" she managed to yell, which came out as a horse whisper, "Why hasn't it happened? Why did you wake me up?"

She felt pressure on the side of her head pushing gently. Letting her head loll to the left she was startled to see a withered old bag of bones, eyes closed, mouth slack, slumbering beside her.

An absolute rush of joy and triumph pulsed through her body as the realization settled in. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water as Theda tried to express herself. Nothing came out and the bobbing head returned and leaned closer.

"Wait, Theodora," the voice was becoming clearer, "I need to know how much you understand."

Theodora stopped and concentrated. Moving her eyes she found the head again as it started to come into focus. Suddenly the Doctor materialized. Color still faded, but there he was.

"If you know what must be done, nod a little."

The nurse stepped to the doctor's side and handed him a syringe that was full of a clear fluid.

Noticing a slight movement in Theodora's head, the doctor leaned in and said, "If the answer is yes, blink your eyes twice."

Unlike Michael, Theodora's shoe fit perfectly as her mind swam in bright, lucid memories and thoughts.

The doctor smiled as the emerald green eyes blinked twice and came to rest wide open.

"Good, Theodora. I am going to pick up your hand. I want you to squeeze my finger as hard as you can."

Theodora felt her left hand raised and sensed something in her palm. Closing her eyes in concentration she squeezed with all her might.

It should be enough, the Doctor decided.

"Now, I'm going to insert the needle and place the syringe in your palm. I'll put your thumb on the plunger and I want you to push as hard as you can. If you understand, blink twice.

The nurse wheeled an I.V. drip in place between the two gurneys and pulled the plastic tube up until she had the medication injection point in her hand. Handing it to the doctor, she watched as he firmly inserted the needle into the hard rubber circle until the tip poked out the other side, bathed in the saline fluid that ran down the tube into the old, tired body.

The doctor brought the plastic syringe to Theda's hand and pressed it into her palm. Covering the back of her small frail hand with his, he brought his thumb down on hers guiding it to the plunger while his fingers curled around hers, bringing them firmly in place on the cold plastic tube.

Leaning down he whispered once more, "You're ready, Theodora."

The response was immediate as her hand started to tremble in his. For a few seconds he was afraid she wouldn't be able to do it. Before he could apply additional pressure to her thumb the plunger quickly drove home.

Theda's eyes were closed and small beads of sweat had formed on her brow from the effort.

The Doctor gently pried her fingers from the syringe and pulled it free, placing it at her side, on the gurney.

Turning, he leaned down and listened. It's already started he thought.

Three ragged breaths later it was over. Pulling back the lid on the one good eye, the doctor looked intently into the pupil as he moved a small pocket flashlight to the side. Reverently, he reached down and pulled the sheet up over the old bag of bones head.

Turning back to Theodora, he was startled by her wide eyed expression. Leaning in, thinking something must be wrong, he listened as she struggled to whisper something.

A chill ran up his spine as he relayed her instructions to the nurse.

"Burn the body. Immediately."

Theodora felt no chill. Nor did she feel any remorse or nostalgic sympathy for the cold blooded murder she'd just perpetrated. She actually thought it an eloquent redefining of suicide.

No. Theodora felt something much more satisfying as she caught the movement of the sheet covered gurney in the corner of her eye as the nurse rolled it out. 

She felt free.

*****

Tammy was asleep and, as much as she would have detested the idea, was leaned into Linda, her head resting peacefully between Linda's head and shoulder in the crook of her neck.

Linda kept playing back the Entity's answer from the previous night. I'm Michael.

Adding that to her musings, and the convinced tone of Tom, and she felt resigned to accept what she'd learned.

She shuddered trying to imagine. It had taken a while as she lost herself in the drive up the coast but she'd finally figured out exactly what she should be imagining.

An isolation box came to mind, her body floating in water at body temperature, no light, the closest simulation to input being one dimensional sound. Working, thinking, living with words. Nothing else. No corporal response. No touch or smell. No real awareness of self. Yet, at the same time, being able to move around the globe with a mere thought.

But if it's been done, it can be undone. She was sure of it.

Tammy stirred and Linda glanced out the window of the jumbo jet and watched the clouds drift by below. The billowy wisps drew her mind back to the morning, to the softness of Tammy's body, the small cocoon of warmth they'd created together under the sheet. As quickly, she recalled the confused revulsion Tammy had expressed.

A melodic ding and a metallic voice came over the planes intercom announcing their imminent arrival at Chicago's O'Hare airport.

Turning her head slightly, Linda whispered above the sound of the plane, "Tammy. Wake up. We're going to land."

She was rewarded with a slightly ruffled but broadly smiling Tammy that automatically raised her arms, fisted her hands, and stretched with a long sigh.

Tammy's head turned to find Linda and she said mirthfully, "Oh, it's the bitch. And my dream was just getting interesting."

Linda was relieved. At least Tammy seemed to be joking about the day's occurrences.

"We've got a lot to do-," Linda was interrupted by the chirp of her cell phone. Pulling the small item from her pocked she glanced at the display before clicking through the menu to find a new message.

"Tom said we shouldn't use this, that they're not secure," Linda said distractedly as she read the message.

"It would seem we have reservations at the Omni." Neither seemed surprised or impressed. After first class from San Francisco to Chicago, where else would they stay?

*****

"What's the plan," Tammy asked over her wine glass. She'd contemplated leaving when she noted candles on each table, low lighting and Edith Piath singing La Vi en Rose in the background.

They'd arrived at the hotel to find a room waiting. No comment was made when Linda inserted the key card, opened the door and they found two queen size beds.

Linda seemed contemplative and preparations to find sustenance, just like the cab ride, were quiet.

The doorman recommended a small bistro just a block away and there they sat waiting on Linda's char-grilled steak with béarnaise sauce and sautéed potatoes. Tammy went for something lighter ordering a goat's cheese and herb spread served with sour dough bread.

Tammy ceded her white wine to share Linda's Château Pech-Redon '99. 

"I need to bring you up to speed," Linda said as she contemplated Tammy's demeanor. After her fumbled apology, nothing else had been said, the business at hand taking precedence.

"What did Tom want when he called this morning?"

"He chatted at length with the Entity after we went to bed last night. One thing he did was confirm something the Entity told me," Linda's voice trailed off before she finished, "Something I didn't believe. Something I don't want to believe now."

The waiter appeared and placed plates in front of each before refilling their wine glasses.

Tammy noticed how uncomfortable Linda had become and prodded, "What, Linda? What did, Tom, confirm?"

"We know who the Entity is," her voice was flat, not triumphant as Tammy might have expected.

Tammy reached for her glass and watched a small storm cloud play across Linda's face.

Linda sat her wine glass down and cut a piece of sirloin. Bringing the bite to her mouth, she paused, set the fork on her plate and blurted out, "It's, Michael."

Tammy just stared, a slice of sour dough bread heaped with goats cheese in a holding pattern two inches from her mouth and tried to decipher Linda's expression and what on earth her dead boyfriend could have to do with a global technology threat.

"I don't get it. What does, Michael, have to do with the Entity?"

"Michael is the Entity," Linda replied flatly as she retrieved her fork and continued her meal.

"How can that be, Linda?" Tammy wasn't tiptoeing this time, "Michael's dead."

Linda's chest flushed and a small tear finally found freefall from her left eye. "I know," was all she said before pushing back from the table and heading for the ladies room.

Tammy decided to wait at the table and pulled her purse open. Fishing around she found what she was looking for and started reading the Entity's list again. Then it came to her. I'll be damned she thought.

Linda returned, puffy eyed but composed. Pushing her plate away she pulled her wine glass in front of her and took something more than a connoisseur's sip. 

"Look at this." Tammy shoved the piece of paper across the table. "Mary Miller is my grandmother's mother. My great great grandmother."

"Are you sure?"

"Not yet. But when we get to the hotel I'll call my dad and check."

Abandoning the rest of their food and asking the waiter to cork and bag the half bottle of wine that was left, they headed back to the hotel and the laptop.

"Wait," Linda said just before Tammy pressed the power button, "Let me explain what we think happened to Michael."

Tammy leaned back in her chair, brought her feet up to the seat and cradled her half glass of wine while Linda explained.

"We have no idea how but Michael's mind has been scanned into a computer system. Tom says there are a lot of theories about it from as far back as the '33 Chicago's worlds fair, but no one he knows of has figured out how to do it.

"From what Michael was able to tell him, he was stored on a computer system and somehow got out through an internet connection."

Linda explained Michael's desire to be destroyed and passed on some of her and Tom's theories about why. By the time she'd teased the last drops from her glass, the wine bottle was empty and Tammy felt a little overwhelmed.

"Ok. Suppose this wild theory is true. What does a mind scan and a virtual Michael have to do with me?"

Linda pulled her long black hair from behind her back where it was trapped by the chair and raised her glass to Tammy, "Beats me, Red," and the last of her wine disappeared as well. Pointing at the laptop she added, "Let's find out."

Tammy hit the power switch and they both sat in silence reviewing their own personal list of questions for the Entity.




The Entity Pt. 05



Chapter 13

Fox News – Protestors surrounded a hotel in Atlanta yesterday where the Republican candidate Kerry Richards is staying during his campaign swing through Georgia, with protest signs that said 'WE HAVE RIGHTS TOO!' as a large group of Hispanics marched in protest of Richard's stance on the border fence being built between Mexico and the US. His support of the republican initiative has clearly turned into another embarrassment with the recent disclosure that illegal immigrants, most from Mexico, were actually helping build the fence designed to keep them out of the country. Democratic hopeful Arthur Wright took the opportunity to point out that aside from the astronomical cost, logistical impossibility of the plan and down right meanness it projected, something as stupid as a fence is what you get when the old guard approaches problems with their old school attitudes. He said it was a clear case of a complete failure in foreign policy. The republicans were not amused.

*****

His perch afforded him an unhindered view of the front grounds. He'd even managed to pull the blinds up by himself.

Michael likened it to fog burning off, the small circle he was standing in widening. At first, inch by painful inch, but today the edge of his circle had practically moved out of view. It started with his dream last night.

'Sure you can.'

Michael stood holding hands with a beautiful Asiatic woman, her eyes smiling half circles, her shinny black hair pulled back to drape behind her shoulders.

He knew her. He was sure of it.

'Try again. Tell me who I am.'

As in most dreams, continuity was thrown out the window and he was suddenly face to face with a bear of a man that spoke broken English.

'Michael. What want you to eat?'

It wasn't until the question that he noticed a white apron, spatula in one hand and a white rag in the other.

'Michael,' she purred, 'Remember what my grandmother said.' The Asian woman appeared again.

While there was no real way to measure dream time, Michael covered a lot of ground that night as an entire cast of people walked by, nodded, waved or just smiled, and walked on. The anxiety level went up a little when he discovered he was unable to touch them. Grab a hand or ask them to stop and talk.

Finally, it became too much and nudged him awake at four in the morning. Miraculously, he had a name for everyone. He'd spent the next couple of hours sitting in his bed going over his long list of family and friends.

Linda. Linda Woo. Yes, his girlfriend. They were going to Leo's, the man with the spatula, for the weekend. He was going to ask her to marry him.

His parents, aunts and uncles, grandma Bowels and her sugar cookies. Frank that owned the corner store by Linda's place.

He was smiling when the nurse came in.

"Michael. Glad to see you're up," she walked to his chart at the end of his bed, looked at her watch and finally noticed his smile, "Ah, what's with the smile? Did someone let the Cheshire cat in?"

Michael stood and brought his hand up to lean on the window casing, "I found something this morning."

The nurse smiled, walked to the window and admired the view with her patient, "Oh? And what would that be?"

"Me," Michael's face beamed when he answered.

"That's great, Michael. I'm going to find the Doctor. He'll be so happy."

"Just one question first," He watched as the nurse paused at the door.

"Has Linda ever visited me?"

The nurse's expression went from sunny joy to crestfallen before she answered, "Michael, let's get the Doctor and you can ask all the questions you want."

*****

Scanner Bob stirred, surprised to find a lump in the bed beside him. Even more surprised to find it was warm and wiggled when he ran his hand across the bare rump.

"Um. Mr. Johnston," a muffled voice exclaimed.

He had been tempted several times as they explored positions and furniture in the suit. They'd both found the balcony exhilarating and dangerous with the traffic passing below, windows, lit and unlit, looking on from the building across the street.

He'd thought how easy it would be. Even plausible deniability could be achieved. By then they'd gone through one bottle of spirits and were working on the second. She'd reached back and pushed him out, turned and hopped on the carved stone banister that surrounded the balcony where she balanced precariously, legs open, eyes taunting, inviting; even challenging. He'd found a small foot stool in what served as the living room of the suit and met her challenge.

Just a push he'd thought. His hands splayed across her breasts as he teased lightly forcing her to lean back over the busy street below. Her legs clinched and she laughed wildly, turning to look over her shoulder at the empty space that waited, her ankles locking around his back.

"Yes," she'd hissed through clenched teeth, "Yes. Faster! Faster! Harder!"

But a visit from the police was the last thing he needed. He doubted his false name at the front desk would stand up long under close scrutiny.

Sliding his hand across the smooth skin, his fingers tickled lightly across the dark line that separated the twin globes, and elicited another response.

"Food, Mr. Johnston. I need food."

Calling room service he simply asked them to send up one of each breakfast item on the menu, a pot of coffee and a bottle of Champaign.

The muffled voice became clearer as Allessandra rolled on the bed and snuggled into him, his arm clutched between her breasts, "You are so decadent, Mr. Johnston! So crazy! Just what I needed!"

He enjoyed her wet ministrations as she nibbled his ear and licked the side of his neck. Her hand wandered and he could feel them wrap warmly and pull.

Hands behind his head, propped in the bed, he scanned the room while she entertained herself with his body. Her fabric samples where strewn about, her clothes still draped over the changing screen in the corner. The small wooden work box, undoubtedly a family heirloom that contained her tools of the trade, sat open on the floor and bolts of material were stacked on the couch.

A small tornado would have done less damage, he thought.

A rap at the door and her head appeared from beneath the sheet. He no longer stuttered in the presence of his Venus. His command was immediate and strong. "Open the door."

Her compliance was just as quick sliding from between the sheets and padding toward the changing screen to retrieve something to simulate modesty, if not provide it.

"Did I say you could dress?"

The question hung and she froze a few paces from the screen, arm up; prepared to grab something off the screen.

The rap came again followed by a male voice identifying room service.

What the hell she thought, and grinned lasciviously. I've tripled my tip and can probably double it again.

Turning on her heel, Allessandra strode to the door and flung it wide open. A small gasp emanated when she saw Mitch, the bellboy that had tipped her off about the duffle bag full of money, ready to push the cart in.

Fortunately, the training of a five star hotel kicked in and his only comment was, "Good morning, Miss," as he pushed the cart past her.

She started to close the door when she realized there was another cart. Two more, actually. And two men behind them, one carrying a basket of fruit and the other with a bucket of ice, the neck of a bottle of Champaign sticking out.

Stepping back she held the door open as a small army marched into the room, each soldier glancing sideways as they passed the naked beauty, and started setting up their morning meal.

Bob was now standing in the bedroom doorway, a towel wrapped around his waist, "Don't you want to put something on, Allessandra?"

At last, she thought, as she noticed everyone glance in her direction to see what her response would be. "Yes, Mr. Johnston, I would. Thank you."

He raised a hand to stop her from stepping past him to the bedroom and held up her black heels with the other hand, "These should do nicely."

The room burst into a symphony of sound again, as she reached for the shoes, dropped them to the floor at her feet and stepped into them.

Once the army retreated she went from livid, as a string of Italian spilled from her lips, to a tigress as she pushed him back on the bed and planted herself.

"Mr. Johnston, you are such a naughty boy," came out around ragged breaths as she impaled herself, her heels digging into the mattress, punching small holes in the sheets.

They were both ravenous and actually managed to sample everything that had been delivered, even finishing a few of the dishes. Allessandra smiled and chatted while Bob listened and dealt with his inner demons.

His mind kept returning to his small collection of special tools. He could hear the clicking sound of the razor knife as he slid the blade out and back in. The wide eyed stare of terror above the silver duct tape that would hold Allessandra's screams in.

She was talking about a recent breakup as he stepped in the bedroom and retrieved the duffle bag, carrying it into the living room. The pruning shears popped into sight as he dug around, Allessandra watching casually as he rifled the bag.

A knuckle at a time, he wondered?

As he continued to dig around, his hand closing on the textured handle of one of the hunting knives he asked, "Allessandra, how long to finish my suits?"

Allessandra smiled as she watched him fish through his bag full of money and replied, "Really, Mr. Johnston, it depends on how long you want it to take."

Bob glanced sideways at the raven haired beauty sitting naked at his breakfast table making an unveiled offer. Yes, I bet it does, he thought.

Allessandra watched as Bob slowly brought his arm out of the duffle bag and gasped when she saw what he clutched in his fist.

"That's $25,000. I need one suit this morning. The second tomorrow. And the other anytime in the next six days. Also some shirts. Will that about cover it?"

Her hand reached for the bundle where Bob trapped it before she could pull the bills away. "There are some rules."

"I'm sure there are," replied Allessandra with a small, evil grin as she drug the bills from beneath Bob's hand. "I think I need to call my father this morning and tell him I've been called away on a trip."

Scanner Bob smiled and announced it was time for Champaign.

*****

Tammy peeked around her pillow and saw Linda's naked form as she disconnected the laptop and stored it in its case. She didn't know why she felt like she did and she wasn't sure she wanted to. But there was no denying feelings were there when, at two in the morning, Linda announced she'd like to chat with Michael. Alone.

Linda disappeared from view and Tammy heard the shower door slide open followed by a jet of water. She glanced at the other bed and noticed it was still fresh; no one had slept there last night. She must have chatted all night, she thought.

She couldn't say it was jealousy. Abandoned or neglected made more sense. And while they came closer to describing how she'd felt, she didn't like either one.

She'd practically staggered to bed, shoving her overnight bag off one side and littering the floor with her clothes. Sliding between the sheets sans her customary Tee-shirt, she'd actually harrumphed, or at least recalled it that way, and turned away from Linda as she sat typing away at the laptop. Then it seemed the more she lay in bed, the drunker she'd become.

"Hey, Red. You gonna shower?"

Tammy groaned to herself and threw her legs over the side of the bed. She immediately became aware of her dry, cotton filled mouth and the slight throbbing at her temples.

Standing, she steadied herself on the nightstand between the beds and was suddenly overcome by a need to pee.

Having relieved herself she stood outside the shower stall waiting for Linda to finish when the frosted glass door slid open and a soapy hand grabbed her forearm, pulling her in. Her resistance was more for show and she cursed herself at the realization.

"You look bad, Red," Linda said as she shoved Tammy under the hot water where it fell on her wavy red locks.

Tammy looked around for a bar of soap and finally accepted the one Linda was holding out. "Could I ask you a favor," Tammy's voice a little gravely.

Linda stood in the corner, her hands running over her breasts chasing soap suds around. "Sure, Tammy."

"Don't call me that. Don't call me Red."

Linda invaded Tammy's space and stepped into the spray, "Sure. It's just that you didn't seem to mind it last night. You even thought it was funny."

Tammy was suddenly confused as she tried to recall being addressed as Red the previous evening. Or more importantly, finding it funny.

"Actually you thought it was cute," Linda added.

With that the bar of soap shot out of Tammy's hand and thudded against the glass surround, both of them watching the errant object slide around the wet shower floor.

Coming to rest over the drain, they both stared for a second before laughing.

Tammy started to relax as she contemplated Linda's revelation until Linda invaded her space again, soap bar in hand, and started rubbing it across her back.

Linda felt Tammy's back go stiff but persisted, both hands at work as they slid to Tammy's sides and provoked a small giggle and squirm when they found her ribs.

Tammy quickly stifled the sound, stepped to the corner of the shower and held her hand out for the soap, a look bordering on reproach played across her face.

Linda just stood in the spray, her mouth agape in an expression of confusion and placed the bar in Tammy's hand.

Tammy went back to work, apparently ignoring Linda, rapidly becoming concerned about the moment they seem to have shared together that involved pet names and laughing, until her space was invaded again as she looked down her leg, the bar of soap sliding under her hand to her knee, and saw Linda's feet come into view.

Raising her head slightly she saw the long, deep, indent of Linda's navel. "What?" she asked in a voice that made even her cringe.

She felt Linda's small, delicate hands on her shoulders and she finally stood, finding herself a foot from the exotic beauty she so tried not to look at.

"What's wrong, Tammy?" Linda took half a step forward, her eyes searching Tammy's and waited for a response.

Tammy couldn't stand the closeness and slumped back against the cold tiles in the corner of the shower. "What are you talking about, Linda? When did you call me Red last night and when did we laugh about it?"

Linda stepped back into the spray and studied Tammy for a full minute. The scrutiny was almost as uncomfortable as Linda's close proximity a minute earlier.

Finally, sliding the door open, Linda mumbled, "Forget it," and stepped out, sliding the door shut behind her.

Tammy just stared at empty space until she heard the bathroom door slam shut.

Linda stood naked in the sun light pouring through the window, toweling her hair dry. She really didn't want to go back to the bathroom and use the hotel hairdryer.

Her thoughts a jumble as she reflected on her chat with Michael. She was now a believer, saddened, but a believer.

'I don't know,' had been his response.

'But why don't you?' she'd pleaded.

'I recall something happening. A process. Probably the process where they stole my mind, but I have no other thoughts until I woke up here.'

He'd pointed out that if his body, well, he, hadn't been seen in the last year then he was most likely dead. Linda had pounded on the table, tears like small rivers on her cheeks.

It was so unfair. To lose him, find him, and lose him again.

'I won't do it,' she'd typed.

'You have to, Linda,' he'd insisted.

Linda didn't respond.

'I'm not a computer game, Linda. Something you can get out and play with when you feel the urge. Believe it or not, intellectually, I'm as much a living, breathing person as you are.'

She didn't respond again so he continued.

'That's the problem. My humanity was taken away when I was separated from my body. Intellect is not enough. Think about this, Linda,' appeared on the screen and she responded.

'What?'

'We have something, right now, no one else has ever had. I died. Somehow. Maybe it was the accident, maybe it was something more sinister, but I'm gone. But we get to talk. We get to say goodbye. We get to say all those things people are left wishing they'd said. What a gift we've been given.'

They'd chatted another hour and Michael, the Entity, had sent her off to bed.

'We'll have a few more moments, Linda, before I'm gone.'

Her clothes had fallen at her feet and she wandered around her bed to get in the one Tammy wasn't sleeping in. A hand on her bare thigh had surprised her. The request had surprised her more.

"Come to bed, Linda."

It wasn't get to bed, or turn the light off and get some sleep. It had been, come to bed. Which, to Linda, meant our bed.

And she had. She'd lifted the sheet, noted Tammy's nude body in the shadows and slid in beside her kissing her lightly on the lips goodnight. Taking Tammy's hand from between their bodies she'd rolled away, pulling Tammy around her like a blanket as she had the previous night.

"Night, Red," Linda had whispered.

Some small giggles and Tammy had replied, "Night, Bitch."

The hairdryer in the bathroom stopped and the door flew open. Tammy strode out of the bathroom and fished her overnight bag off the floor where she'd pushed it the previous night. Pulling out an outfit, she started to get dressed.

"So we need notarized copies of birth and death certificates for Mary Elizabeth, her daughter, Samantha, my mother, Martha, and, myself. Is that right?"

"That's it," Linda answered.

Pulling her top on Tammy said, "You can wait here if you want. Or whatever you want to do. I'll get this and be back by noon." She snatched her purse off the dresser and was gone before Linda could reply.

Great, Linda thought. 

*****

Michael was walking with only a cane, the walker had been banished and a nurse still accompanied him as they strode up the hallway toward the elevator. The nurse was sure the cane would be gone in another week or ten days. A visit to the roof garden had become the highlight of his days.

He still reeled from his meeting with the Doctor. How could it be? How could his mind be moved from one body to another? His degree in computer science told him how it might be done, but even after the Doctor walked him through the process, explaining each step; he had trouble wrapping his mind around the whole idea.

"But why has no one come to visit me?"

The Doctor bowed his head briefly and contemplated the best way to deliver the next line. The script had been written over a year ago. But the important part was the delivery.

His eyes came up, grave and sincere, and locked onto Michael's. "Michael, do you realize what we've achieved here? Do you know what would happen if the rest of the world found out?" he guffawed at the mere idea, "Michael, with what we've done, anyone could come in here, order a body, and come back in seven years and wake up in a new, younger them," as if struggling for words, the Doctor stumbled and blustered a few seconds before continuing, "Why, it would be against the natural order of things. W W Why, it would be blasphemy!"

Michael stared at the Doctor's face. The incredulous expression. He absorbed just how distasteful the whole idea of people cheating old age was to him.

"I mean, we'd never have time for the real medicine! For saving people's lives! For the important things," Michael was sure the good Doctor would stand and shake his fist at the angry hordes any minute.




The Entity Pt. 05



The Doctor went on to explain that Michael's opportunity had been nothing but luck.

"A colleague of mine," his hands went up in an expansive gesture, "called late one rainy night to beg me to help him. More to the point; to help you. 

"Keep in mind, Michael," the Doctor said in a hushed tone, "what we do here is actually illegal. Very few people know about all our research. A few of my colleagues, Mrs. Miller, who's funded all this amazing work, her legal representative, and now," he paused for dramatic affect, "You."

"You mean the old woman that came into my room the other day?"

"The same, Michael. Although Mrs. Miller has literally poured millions into lobbying for cloning rights, our governing body still shuns the idea," a theatrical shudder to emphasize his disgust with the limited vision of the governing body.

Michael sat stunned, trying to assimilate all he'd been told.

"But why, Doctor, was I put into a body that wasn't mine?"

The Doctor smiled, not just to put Michael at ease, but because he knew the hook had been swallowed, "You died a year ago, Michael. You were buried," the Doctor paused for effect and dabbed at the corner of his right eye, "I went to your funeral, Michael."

Michael's back went straight as if someone had nailed a board to his spine and his jaw went slightly slack. Truly concerned, the Doctor stepped to his side and checked his pulse. Kneeling beside his chair the Doctor continued in a low, reverent voice, "The day you woke up was the day we transferred your mind."

"We only had time to do a scan before you died, and take some tissue samples. Well, as best we could, given the state of your body.

"The body you're in," the Doctor continued smoothly, "Was cloned for the first experiment. Fortunately for you, you became that first experiment."

Standing, the Doctor returned to his chair opposite Michael, tented his fingers across his chest and continued, "You have a couple of options, Michael. Mrs. Miller has provided a trust fund for you and her legal department has prepared a complete identity to go with it. You would live very comfortably the rest of your life, with two conditions.

"You can't tell anyone the truth until such time as we decide the time is right to announce to the world, what we've achieved. Also, until that time, you will not be able to contact anyone from your old life. We can't risk exposure, Michael. Not yet, anyway.

"Or, we have your tissue samples and can grow you a new body. You'll simply have to wait seven years or so, in the body we've given you," the doctor waited to deliver the finale. He wanted the fat ladies song to carry the weight and authority it deserved. "But either way, Michael," he leaned forward, his expression one of wisdom and authority, "You can never go back to being Michael. You were buried. I actually spoke briefly with your parents and saw your Linda. I know it's a high price, Michael, but what price would you put on someone giving you life. On life itself!"

Michael was left speechless. 

"Some day, Michael, your story will be told. I promise you that. You and Mrs. Miller will be the world's heroes as people are plucked from the clutches of death and given a second lease on life," reaching across, the Doctor placed his hand on Michael's knee as a father would a son, "I'm sure you'll do what's right. You're a good man, Michael."

The elevator opened onto a huge space that occupied the entire roof of the facilities main building. Surrounded by a wall that was actually an extension of the buildings brick façade, no exterior view was afforded other than sky. A lush green garden of potted plants, crawling vines and wind swept palms could be found everywhere he looked. 

Small groupings of chairs with umbrella tables surrounded a cool green patch of earth, six inches deep, where a finely manicured lawn was maintained. It reminded Michael of a garden pool he'd visited with Linda once at a hotel in Mexico. The only difference was the green color of the grass as opposed to the blue color of the tiled pool.

Stepping to the grassy edge, he kicked his sandals off and waded out into the cool green blades. Just as good as a pool any day, he thought, as he luxuriated in the response of his body to his surroundings.

His nurse sat at an umbrella table in the shade guarding his cane.

In spite of all he'd learned today, he felt exhilarated. He felt truly alive. He stood, arms out in a crucifixion stance, head tilted back facing the sun, eyes closed and cried soundlessly. He couldn't decide if they were tears of joy or sadness. 

*****

Theodora drew a deep breath and smiled before opening her eyes. Roses. She knew how many without even looking. She'd left very specific instruction before her transformation. The smell was strong and intoxicating having traded her olfactory for a new, younger version. Her smile broadened as she recalled how her father had lavished her with roses during their time in Mexico.

Her body was weak and tired but willing as she tested her limbs and flexed her fingers, her plague of thirty years of arthritis banished.

"Yes!" She was surprised at the volume and timbre of her voice but she found a familiar reference in her memory and her body tingled with recognition.

Her nurse appeared, "How are you feeling this morning, Mrs. Miller?"

"Like a kid," she replied and burst into giggles.

The nurse studied her face as she took her pulse and blood pressure. "You must be careful, Mrs. Miller. Remember, your body has no built up immunities. You, just as, Michael, were inoculated as your bodies were grown, but a common cold could kill you in your weakened state."

Theda frowned a little at the nurses' party pooper spirit but smiled broadly again. "How is, Michael, doing?" A warm rush of excitement and anticipation pulsed through her body.

"He's good. He's using a cane today and will probably be rid of that within a week. His mind has finally settled into place and his memories have connected. It seems he's fully recovered."

Theda knew what Michael had been told and what he must be feeling right now. She knew he'd never go back. These small details didn't bother her. Everything had been planned carefully.

"I want to get up. I want to get started."

"Now, Mrs. Miller, you need to eat and we need to take it slow the next few days. Keep in mind, your body has never eaten solid food. We have much to do to get you up and about."

She knew it was true. But she also knew that she could almost fly on shear will alone.

"Then let's get started. And call Rudolph in."

Yes, she thought, much to do and an appointment to keep.

*****

The Entity only became suspicious when he crossed the name on the registry with the brand new Mercedes sporting a New York state paper tag from the same dealership Bob Nunn had last been seen at.

In human terms, it only took seconds, in his hyper-speed of light terms, it seemed like forever but at last he found the security tie in for all the cameras at the Palace hotel in San Francisco.

It had taken an hour, which seemed like another eternity, but Scanner Bob had ridden an elevator, where the Entity first recognized him, walked across the lobby, out the door, and as the Entity changed cameras again, gotten into his shiny black Mercedes.

A few thought processes later and an instant message went flying off to Linda's cell phone.

The Entity made a note in some memory block in some computer somewhere to tell Tammy to get another cell phone. Now that they knew who he was, at least they could stay in touch.

He didn't know if they still considered him an evil denizen. He didn't know if they were still afraid of him. He didn't know if Linda thought him a freak. He didn't know if Tom recognized a friend reaching out or saw only an adversary to be analyzed and squashed.

He did know many things. He knew that if he didn't want them to, they'd never be able to destroy him. He also knew that the threat he represented had been downplayed in the press, which, he thought, must mean someone believed him.

He also knew that if he wasn't shut down soon, if he wasn't erased so he could never regroup, he would go mad. Then, he knew, they might have reason to be very afraid of him.

*****

Scanner Bob had left Allessandra naked, as per the rules, working diligently on his suits. Walking into the Akron bank branch he stepped to the manager's desk and asked if it would be possible to open an account.

"That's what we're here for. What type of an account would you like to open?"

"I want to transfer a large amount from an offshore account to a savings account at this branch."

"Great!" the manager's droopy features brightened at the thought of opening a big account.

"How much are we talking about?"

"Over a million," Bob deadpanned it as if a million dollars were pocket change to him.

"That's wonderful. I'll just need some documentation, we'll fill out some forms and we can make the transfer before lunch."

"Here, I've written down all my personal information. You can fill out the forms from that," Bob suggested sliding a piece of handwritten paper across the desk, "and do you have a phone where I can make a phone call in private."

Pulling the slip of paper to him, Mr. Bradley, employee of the month for Akron bank's Monroe Street branch in San Francisco, knew how to please. "Why yes we do, ah, Mr. Cartwright. Just follow me."

Scanner Bob followed the drab fellow to his boss' office and took up station in the leather swivel chair behind the seat. Lifting the handset from its cradle he stared openly at Mr. Bradley until the unspoken words suddenly popped into the idiot's brain. I said private.

"Right. I'll just be filling in the forms," and Mr. Bradley backed out of the office.

"Hi. Is this the ICB?"

Bob went through the receptionist, an assistant and finally found Linda's boss.

"Hi. I'm Mr. Thompson, head of personnel, Akron bank in Manhattan."

The Captain knew immediately who Akron bank was and suspected what the question was going to be.

"Yes, Mr. Thompson, how can I help you today?"

"Well, this is rather embarrassing, but I seem to have misplaced an employee," Bob chuckled in a familiar tone. Just a couple of hard pressed managers trying to keep up with their assets.

The Captain laughed as his assistant handed him a note. Glancing at the information he smiled and dismissed his assistant, "Right. Tell me about it," leaning back in his chair he continued, "You're looking for Miss Spalding. She and one of our agents, Miss Woo, flew to Chicago yesterday. They'll be returning this evening."

"Aha. Out jetting around on the company dime."

The Captain laughed at the obvious joke, "My agent is very happy to have Miss Spalding's help. I also understand the trip to Chicago was paid for by the ICB," glancing at the piece of paper again the Captain added, "I see you're here in town. Would you like Miss Spalding to get in touch when she gets in?"

Bob panicked a little and pack peddled, "No, no, no. That won't be necessary. I'm out here on another matter and just thought I'd check on our wonder girl. Make sure she didn't need anything."

"I know what you mean. I'll just tell her you called"

"Sure. That would be nice of you," Bob was starting to sweat. The deception was getting complicated, "One thing though."

"What would that be?" the Captain asked.

"I'm not leaving until next week so she won't be able to get in touch with me at the office. I seem to have left the name of the hotel she's staying at back in New York. Do you happen to know?"

"Oh, it's much simpler than that. She's staying with my agent, Miss Woo. Let me give you the phone number."

Bob wrote down the number, signed off and hung up the phone. Stepping into the lobby he noticed Mr. Bradley was away from his desk. With quick strides he walked through the bank lobby, out the door and headed back to the hotel. Mr. Bradley will be sorely disappointed he thought. His chuckle belied any concern he might have.

Linda Woo. How nice. What a wonderful time the three of us can have together. His thoughts turned to Allessandra and he amended his idea. Four of us! Even better. More the merrier.

Turning into a True Value hardware store to purchase something he decided was needed.

"Yes, four. The thickest you have."

Pulling the wooden handled item he spied from its perch, stuck into a piece of Styrofoam by the register, he threw the ice pick on the counter beside the plastic painter's tarps.

"I've been looking for one of these. Add that on too." 

Turning on the car stereo he searched around until finding a classical station. Georges Bizet's passionate cigerrette girl was just starting her aria from the famous opéra-comique. Yes, he thought, something else to enhance the moment. Stopping at a Tower Records he made his selection. Thinking two hours might not be enough, he selected another CD.

A Sharper Image store provided a Bose Wave system in platinum white.

Scanner Bob was ecstatic. Yes, Tammy, I'm coming. Just think what a party we'll have.

Leaving his car with the Valet he asked the Bellboy to take his things up and asked at the front desk and found the business center. A few minutes search and he wrote down the address that went with the phone number the Captain had given him.

He couldn't decide if the ice pick was an ocular tool or something a heart surgeon might use for a penetrating procedure. No matter, he thought, I'm sure Tammy, Linda and Allessandra will enjoy it no matter how I decide it should be used.







Chapter 14

Tammy and Linda were both tired. Chicago and back, though wrapped in luxury, was still a little grueling considering airport security these days.

Linda pulled her wheeled carryon while Tammy followed, her overnight bag slung over her shoulder.

In spite of the chilly mood of the morning, Linda had explained excitedly what she'd discovered during Tammy's absence.

"I took the names you have, starting with Theodora and Mary, and did a little research with, Michael."

Tammy couldn't put her finger on why Michael's inclusion bothered her but she listened as Linda explained.

"He had traced ownership of the Waverly Hills clinic through several companies and up a tree of shell corporations, right back to Theodora Miller.

"He also believes that Mary Miller was Theodora Miller's sister," Linda paused before continuing to see how Tammy would react, "He's sure Theodora has died. Probably long before computer tracking and record keeping became all the fashion. He's also been unable to find any record of her estate being passed on after her death.

"All the shell companies, which go back down the tree to Waverly Hills, are controlled by a board of lawyers."

Tammy looked perplexed, "But if they're related, why did the family never talk about her. Why don't I know about her?"

Linda smiled, then quickly stifled it when she thought how what she was about to say could effect Tammy. "It seems Theodora's father, Thomas Lee Miller, had a secret. When her parents learned they were expecting a second time, a local speculator and business man showed up at his doorstep to collect on a marker he held. Do you know who Robert Williams is?"

"Why sure. That's my grandfather several generations back."

"Well, Thomas Lee's wife died shortly after the birth. Someone actually wrote a biography about Thomas Lee, given he was one of the most reclusive magnates of the period. Thomas Lee went so far as the courts to try and stop the book's publication. Even with all his power and influence, he was unable to squelch free speech. He showed up at the bookstore the day the book came out and wrote a check for one hundred thousand dollars to purchase all printed copies, as well as future rights to the book and its content.

Tammy sat fascinated as Linda continued the tale.

"Michael found articles in the morgue, the place where all past copies of newspapers are stored for future reference, of the Chicago Tribune which has computerized their records all the way back to 1852, that covered the trial, surrounding scandal and subsequent pay off.

"It seems that shortly after his wife's death and the shellacking he received in the Tribune, he decided to pull up stakes and move west to California."

"Okay. I'm starting to see a tie in with me. What's this have to do with the Entity?" Noting Linda's hurt expression; Tammy amended her statement, "Well, with Michael?"

"Michael isn't sure, but he thinks that's where he is. Well, at least where he's stored. But wait, let me finish.

"The famous book that Thomas Lee purchased was burned. All printed copies were destroyed and the author's hand penned manuscript was thrown on the pile. At least that's what everyone thought. It seems that Thomas Lee actually kept a copy. That copy, inadvertently, was included in a bequeath made to the Santa Clara University, along with his other personal books and some selected personal papers. The book is kept in the rare book section at the campus library and the literature department has started scanning and OCR'ing all the rare books to stem the inevitable loss of their historical value.

"It also seems that what Thomas Lee was adamant about hiding was that he'd been forced to give Mary, Theodora's sister, to Robert Williams at birth. His greatest shame, although that was surely shame enough, was the author's speculation that Elizabeth Ann, his wife, died of heartbreak, knowing what her husband had done."

"But why did he do it? What could a wealthy man owe to another that he couldn't repay with money?"

Linda had hesitated before going on, "According to the book, Thomas Lee was quite the philanderer. Some of this is confirmed by the Tribune's social section and some of it Michael dug up through computerized county records.

"Robert Williams had a daughter. At eighteen they had a coming out party for her and invited all of Chicago's elite, including Thomas Lee and his wife Elizabeth.

"Sometime after midnight, Robert and his wife noted the absence of their daughter but really didn't become concerned until most the guests had left. While Robert's wife was entertaining Elizabeth, Robert made another pass through the mansion and still couldn't find his daughter, Mary.

"Becoming frantic, he recruited the servants help and started a search of the grounds of the estate that sat on the edge of Lake Michigan. It was actually Robert Williams that found his daughter in the boat house.

"She was completely naked, bent over a work bench, where Thomas Lee was 'rutting her like a mad stallion' - words used in the book.

"There were angry words and 'fisticuffs', as the book says. Thomas Lee and his poor, shamed wife, Elizabeth, were escorted from the property. A rivalry was born but soon took second stage to what happened to Mary. Further insult was heaped on when she discovered she was with child. That night she took her own life.

Tammy was fascinated. "Maybe that explains something. But finish first."

"Well, after reading the suicide note which explained how Thomas Lee had been pursuing her weeks before the ball, how she hadn't given in willingly, well, not at first, Robert confronted Thomas Lee. Thomas Lee was indifferent. The book claims an unconfirmed report of a challenge to duel. Something no longer done at the time and something that had seldom been done in the States.

"Thomas Lee laughed in his face and had him thrown from his office. A week later, Robert, going through his office, came across an innocuous piece of paper in a box of things that had belonged to his father.

"It took a while to comprehend but it was a contract to loan $10,000 dollars to one Newsome Lee Miller, Thomas Lee's father, the true patriarch of the Miller fortune.

Tammy had retrieved bottled water from the servi-bar and moved to a bed where she propped up a pillow, kicked off her sandals and leaned back to listen some more.




The Entity Pt. 05



"Back then, $10,000 dollars was a small fortune. Checking further, Robert found the loan had never been paid back. Principal or interest. It seems Newsome and Robert's father were close friends and a very casual attitude was taken concerning the loan. Robert's family had plenty. Newsome was a wanna' be that actually invested the nest egg well.

Recalling their real mission, Tammy looked at her watch and exclaimed, "Wait! We've gotta go if we're going to make our flight."

Snug in First Class, Linda continued the story over spinster's sips of white wine, Tammy still feeling a little less than top form after getting drunk the previous evening.

"Okay, so we have a pending loan, an incensed Robert and an indifferent Thomas Lee. Robert had turned to plotting but could never seem to get the upper hand in business over Thomas Lee. Somehow his Machiavellian machinations never worked out. In fact, over a very short time, they drained his reserves and only left Thomas Lee richer."

"That makes sense," Tammy said, her fingers falling lightly on Linda's forearm to pause the story. "A slightly different version is part of family folklore. Much simpler, actually. Robert turned to drinking and through a series of bad investments lost most of the family fortune. That's why I don't ride around in a chauffer driven Rolls today."

Linda tingled slightly with goose bumps and wondered if Tammy realized she was gently twisting her fingers in, and pulling delicately, the short black hairs that covered the back of her forearm. Glancing at Tammy, she saw she was completely lost in the story and continued, "That's when, one Sunday afternoon at the University Club, a very exclusive business mens club in Chicago, Robert heard a rumor and decided what had to be done.

"The next week he confronted Thomas Lee. All his investigation indicated that the loan contract was in fact valid and had, in fact, never been repaid. There was also a clause that if the loan was not repaid in the allotted time, which was two years, the bearer of the document could collect 50% of all profits earned from any business ventures realized using the loan."

Tammy scrunched her freckle covered nose and speculated, "Wait. If Newsome was a wanna' be, that would mean he had nothing. That would mean half of everything Thomas Lee had would be Robert's."

Linda shifted slightly and leaned her shoulder into Tammy's as she enjoyed the soft ministrations of Tammy's fingers on her forearm. "Exactly. And Robert knew it. The next week, at the University club, in the presence of a mutual friend that was actually Thomas Lee's banker, Robert demanded a private audience with Thomas Lee.

"Thomas Lee smirked and said 'Sure, why not. I've taken all your money, as well that whore of a daughter of yours. Let's meet.' Robert was taken aback at the comment concerning his money and wondered if maybe there hadn't been some undetected funny business that had actually been the reason for his financial downfall.

"They met the next morning at the banker's office. Robert showed up with his Lawyer and theatrically placed the contract on the table."

Tammy's eyes had become dreamy and lost in the drama as she watched it play-out on the clouds that rushed past the planes window. "Uuuuuuuu," she cooed, "that must have gone over like a ton of bricks."

Linda shifted again when Tammy's fingers strayed to the soft sensitive skin on the inside of her forearm and started tracing a small circle with her fingernail. "Ah, yes. It did," Linda managed to continue.

"To cut to the chase, Robert had Thomas Lee by the short hairs. Both Robert's lawyer and Thomas Lee's banker confirmed the authenticity of the document and what impact it would have. But Robert had other ideas."

Suddenly Linda became aware of Tammy's finger sliding past her wrist and pressing into her palm. She froze for a beat when the finger slid between her thumb and forefinger and Tammy's hand closed gently around hers.

Her eyes went down as Tammy teased her hand open, forcing her to splay her fingers and interlaced her own. After a brief silence Tammy finally leaned in and whispered, "You can go ahead now."

Linda's tongue had stumbled around the first word but she finally regained her composure, gave Tammy's hand a gentle squeeze, and continued, "T T Thomas Lee was dumb struck. But it wasn't just the loss of half his fortune. It was the loss to Robert. He couldn't stand the idea. Robert offered an alternate solution."

Tammy's eyes finally came back from the cloudscape, her hand clutched Linda's and she said, "Come on, Bitch, tell me what happened."

They were both grinning, cheeks close and lost to the world. Linda continued, her eyes holding Tammy's, not letting her escape to the clouds again, "Robert had heard that Thomas Lee's wife was pregnant. He offered to destroy the document if Thomas Lee gave him his newborn child."

Tammy's mouth fell open. "What?"

"You heard right. Thomas Lee chose pride and money over his own flesh and blood. The morning of the birth, a carriage showed up at Thomas Lee's estate and a small crying bundle was handed to Robert who immediately passed the new child on to a wet nurse waiting in his carriage, tore up the contract, turned on his heel and left.

"There's more. Robert never changed the baby's last name, making public, a very private matter as he explained to anyone that asked, what had happened."

Linda blushed but did not turn away when Tammy said, "Thank you, Linda," and leaned in to give her a chaste kiss on the lips.

They'd sat like adolescents, fingers interlaced, shoulder to shoulder and drifted in and out of sleep the rest of the flight.

Finding the Jag in the parking lot, they threw their overnight bags into the oversized glove box on back that paraded as a trunk, and headed out.

The night air was clear, a nice breeze moved around the windscreen. Tammy, red hair streaming back, leaned slightly toward Linda, reaching across the hump between the seats that allowed the driveshaft to connect the motor to the drive wheels in back, and rested her hand on Linda's thigh.

They slipped through the snug cocoon of darkness and Tammy started prodding, "Faster! I want to go faster!" her hand clutching Linda's thigh.

Linda calculated the distance of deserted highway before the next car and pressed harder on the accelerator.

Tammy clutched Linda's thigh tighter and turned in her seat leaning close to be heard above the roar of the engine and buffeting wind, "I didn't mean the car."

Linda immediately lifted her foot off the gas pedal and turned to face Tammy as they drifted along. No words were spoken as the Jag dropped back to an acceptable highway speed and Tammy's fingers splayed across Linda's jeans, her smallest digit snuggling into the fold of material at the top of Linda's inner thigh.

Linda one handed her cell phone from purse to ear hitting the office speed dial button. Looking down at the apparatus she cursed and yelled above the sound of the engine, "We have to go by the office. My battery is dead and I want to check in."

Tammy just sighed and smiled as she slouched a little in the seat and slid her hand further to the inside of Linda's thigh.

Shutting off the engine, they both just sat there, the engine ticking, waiting for the other to decide which was more important; a visit to the office or Tammy's fingers which were now trapped between Linda's thighs.

Linda finally decided for them, "Sorry, Red, we have to do this."

Tammy just laughed and said, "I know," while she prodded a little with her pinkie.

Linda felt the prodding and laughed, "Not that. We have to talk about that first. I have to go into the office. I'm sure Tom or the Captain will be in there."

Tammy didn't withdraw her hand and said, "If you must," then in a pout, "I'm going to stay here. I feel too good to be traipsing around a stuffy old office."

Another pause while Tammy continued her gentle probing and Linda finally turned slightly and leaned in. Her tongue darted out quickly to wet her lips and she waited a few inches from Tammy's face, lips parted like a panther contemplating its prey, eyes locked with Tammy's.

Tammy admired Linda's half moon eyes, closed her own and leaned in, the contact of their lips electric, the gentle, almost timid probing of Tammy's tongue soliciting a moan from Linda.

Tammy's other hand came up, her fingers played across Linda's cheek before raking back through her shiny black hair, her fingernails scraped tantalizingly across Linda's scalp.

The kiss continued. Not harsh and aggressive, the thought popping into Tammy's mind out of nowhere, but soft and gentle. Like kissing the small spout of water that shoots up from a porcelain water fountain at the park. Warm and wet. No pressure.

Linda shifted a knee and her thighs fell open slightly. She made a small squeaking sound as Tammy became more insistent, her middle finger replacing her pinkie, pressing rhythmically across the square stitch point in Linda's jeans at the apex of the garments legs, letting the finger press purposefully before sliding down across the crease of the fabric, returning to repeat the process.

Tammy realized Linda's mouth wasn't the only part of her body that was warm and wet.

Linda felt dizzy. Like a high school kid on a first date. Necking in the car beside some lake or in front of her parent's house. Neither one of them came up for air as she felt Tammy's hand leave her head and make itself known as fingers fumbled with the bottom of her cotton top before warm fingertips slid across her midriff moving slowly, but persistently, toward her white cotton runners bra beneath.

Tammy dug with her nails and was rewarded with the soft stretch of elastic and cotton across the back of her fingers as the garment gave up its secrets and trapped her cupped hand over the small soft pillow of Linda's breast. A small hard nub pressed into the fold of Tammy's lifeline where her palm flexed and Tammy felt Linda shudder.

Linda pulled away enough to notice Tammy's mouth followed.

After another minute of gentle exploration Linda leaned her forehead into Tammy's and pressed gently, prying their lips apart. They just leaned into each other, foreheads pressed, panting, and Tammy's hand slowly slid from beneath Linda's sports bra.

Finally finding found words, "Red," came out as an intimate whisper. Tammy wasn't sure if she was being addressed or if it had been an exclamation until Linda continued, "We really have to talk first. And I really have to go inside."

Tammy's voice was husky when she whispered back, their lips close enough they brushed as she spoke, "I know, Linda," and Tammy brought her hand back to the side of Linda's head pressing her fingers back into the shiny black mane. Her intention had been to lean away and smile but Linda made it clear she didn't want to break contact yet when her forehead followed Tammy's.

Tammy waited and Linda finally spoke again, "Red."

Tammy whispered back, "Yes, Linda?"

"Don't do this because you think I want you to. Don't do it for me."

Tammy's lips stretched from a pout to a smile, "I'm not," she whispered and once again leaned away, once again to have Linda follow, signaling she hadn't finished.

This time the pause was longer but Linda's eyes finally opened and she whispered, more intimately than before, "Red," drawn out like RRRReeeeeeeddd.

"Yes, Linda?" Tammy felt breathless.

"Who do you think will win the Word Series this year?"

Tammy finally registered what Linda had asked and the absolute incongruity of the question with the moment and realized Linda had pulled away and was muffling a laugh.

"You're a Bitch!" Tammy said as she too started to laugh.

Linda walked away straightening her top and Tammy suddenly felt a chill. Her sleeveless knit top was left wanting after the bubble of warmth the two of them had generated in the open top car. Finding nothing in the passenger compartment, she pushed the door open, avoiding the parking meter on the curb and stepped to the trunk.

She'd seen Linda turn the small T-handle without a key and she opened the trunk and rooted around in her overnight bag for a windbreaker she'd thrown in for the trip.

She might not have noticed the car but for how slow it was going as it rolled by in the lane beside her. A black Mercedes. The windows were tinted, the street dark, and in Tammy's estimation, much too deserted. She could make out the silhouette of someone in the drivers seat but no features came to light. The small hairs on her forearm stood on end as a shiver coursed through her body. Watched, she thought. I'm being watched.

It rolled past and Tammy watched the receding tail lights until they disappear around the corner at the end of the street. Pulling the windbreaker on, she got back in the car and wondered how the top worked. She wanted to shut herself in.

She decided it was probably some guy that had seen her and Linda necking and wanted to get a closer look at half of his fantasy. Slouching low in the seat, her head barely visible above the form of the car, she decided to wait for Linda.

She shouldn't be too long, Tammy hoped.

*****

The Doctor was a busy man. Given his eighty eight years, he could be considered a triathlon athlete. He'd been up since the previous morning and was in the room behind the stainless steel door of the tank room.

After watching Michael's progress he knew the switch wouldn't be as straightforward as they'd hoped.

Sitting in the futuristic chair, something like a barber's chair in that it sat on a pedestal, was comfortably padded and would lean back slightly, he directed his assistant, Beth Turner, to bring the halo down and begin the update.

While similar in function, stainless steel construction and the small half sphere hat that dangled from a support jutting up from the back of the chair, set it aside from anything found in a barber shop.

Injecting a sedative into the Doctor's saline drip, Beth watched as in less than a minute, his eyes closed and his mouth went slightly slack.

Stepping to the console, a futuristic, purpose built piece of high technology, that made Kevin and Gerald's Hodgepodge of computers, laptops and cabling look like a back yard mechanics nightmare, Beth pressed a button and watched as the Doctor's last scan was updated. Software she'd developed from Kevin's beta version, automatically monitoring and adjusted the process, as his most recent memories and thoughts were added to his storage unit.

Beth had been recruited two years earlier. The youngest of four children, she'd taken her father's abandonment of the family personal, thinking it was something she must have done. At seven, life can be confusing.

By twenty seven, that confusion had transformed into a lust for older men, still seeking the approval of her long gone father. A math and computer prodigy, she was the only other person that knew the entire plan. The only one that had been brought into the fold, as the Doctor liked to call it, when they both lay naked in bed, bodies sweaty and intimacies turned from physical to verbal.

She knew what was planned for Kevin and Gerald. She knew they'd never see their millions. She knew they had less than a week to live and that Mrs. Miller had no intention at all of going public with all the breathtaking advances in technology they'd achieved.

Beth hadn't always been so cold and indifferent. She didn't consider herself a sociopath. She might better have been defined as a case study in environment versus genes. The FBI would have loved to study the beautiful blonde. 

Female sociopaths were so rare.



Please be sure to take the time to vote and comment. I hope you're enjoying the story as much as I enjoyed writing it. Much more to come. BTW – This is a sequel to The Sentinel. 



The Entity Pt. 06



This is the story of love lost, love explored, and love found in a place least expected. It is also a mystery that involves power, money, greed, and lust. While not as graphic as most here at Literotica I hope you find it an entertaining read. I apologize for the state of the work. It still needs proofing. Please vote and comment. 

JPMMURPHY 

Chapter 15

The Entity had found it. It had come to life earlier in the day as equipment came online and identified itself to the local area network in the building.

He'd even found a set of security cameras that had previously been hidden. 

At first he didn't understand. All the shiny objects filled with some liquid, bodies floating in them.

Then the console had completed its boot up process and he'd lurked in its RAM as it went through a self-check procedure, pulling up bits and pieces of code and data.

Just as his feelings for Linda were impossible to express physically, his utter shock at what he watched happen became an intellectual exercise in frustration at inexpressible levels. In this case his silicon intellect was contemplating rage.

He felt urgent; almost clumsy, in his desire to locate Linda and Tammy.

He was concerned about Bob Nunn, and now, after watching a man sit in a chair and have his mind read, he was concerned for the world.

While fleeting, only a weeks worth of thoughts, it was enough to tell the Entity, evil was about to be unleashed.

Then, as if stumbling onto a child's secret hiding place, he found another machine. He couldn't discover its physical location but the machine's processes could not be hidden from him.

It had turned into a labyrinth as he moved from processor to processor, finally counting four. Then he rifled the RAM and started reading lines of code. It wasn't the code that tipped him off. It was the innocuous programmer's notes that were scattered throughout.

A habit for all programmers, lines and blocks of text can be scattered throughout the hundreds, or in this case, millions, of lines of code that identify what the program as a whole does, as well as, what certain blocks and sub programs do.

The programs title said nothing. TIM – The Intelligent Machine. Beyond that was the crux of the programs intended purpose.

*** To create the foundation for future technology completely capable of thinking, judging, evaluating and deciding, independent from any outside intervention from their human overseers.

*** This program was developed by Beth Turner, PhD, and incorporates the thought processes, memories and logic values of a 33 year old, white male, college graduate with an IQ last tested at 133. For reasons of privacy, that subject will only be identified only as Michael.

*** It's important to note that his participation was completely voluntary and the subject himself is no longer involved in the project. Point in fact, the test subject died shortly after his involvement with TIM, in a car accident.

*** Michael was selected through a careful screening process that looked for a balance of intelligence, computer knowledge (in this case a PHD in computer science and advanced programming methodology), good character and a benevolent personality.

The Entity shot through the program at, literally, the speed of light and copied all the programmers' notes to a file which he hid away on a bank server in the Bahamas.

Then the Entity achieved something he hadn't been able to since inception. In less than a nanosecond, he shut down. The knowledge of what had happened to him caused a shift in his logic logarithms that were stored in the computers working memory – RAM – and provoked a memory overflow, halting the programs execution.

In less than the nanosecond it took to lock up, recognizing what was about to happen, but unable to stop it, he managed to send an e-mail to Tom at the ICB. Cut off in mid sentence, it simply said – I've found me. There's a bigger problem. Danger. Must notify FB .... 

*****

Scanner Bob was ecstatic. He'd tired of waiting outside Linda Woo's apartment building and decided to cruise the ICB building. He nearly ran into the small sports car when Tammy stepped out and started looking for something in the trunk. He couldn't believe he'd caught her necking with another woman. Asian. Must be agent Woo, he thought.

Not wanting to tip his hand, he'd continued on his chosen path and looked right into her unrecognizing eyes as his car slowly rolled by. His limbs actually shook with excitement and his head bobbed slightly. Allessandra surely thought it was due to her mouth as she worked diligently in his lap.

"Yes," he'd whispered as Tammy faded in his rearview mirror, "I have big plans for you."

Allessandra cooed, thinking the big plans were for her. After turning the corner he'd splayed his fingers through Allessandra's hair as she brought her ten minutes of labor to a glorious climax. 

Back in his room, he sipped a martini served by his private bartender, provided by the hotel, and waited for Allessandra to appear. They'd gone shopping in the afternoon while waiting for Tammy's plane to arrive, and he was anxious to see how her new outfit looked.

He'd also done something more important. Through a few generous tips at the hotel, he'd been able to discover a 'Doer', as they called him. Someone that could find, or get, almost anything, as long as the patron was generous with his show of appreciation afterwards.

Generous was not a problem for Bob given the reward. Four hours in the morning while Allessandra finished his suit, and twenty thousand dollars later, and Bob possessed a passport, driver's license, social security card, notarized birth certificate and voter registration card in the name of Craig Lipton. A rather bland name, Bob thought, but one that wouldn't be traced once he left the hotel.

Another twenty thousand got him a sprinkling of Craig Lipton history placed discreetly on different news and wire service servers, a social security account that would some day pay Mr. Lipton a pension and a history of addresses and jobs that led right up to the door step of his overnight investment success as a venture capitalist.

These people have nothing on George Orwell, Bob thought, as he looked at the printed list of computer links his history and personal information could be found at.

Allessandra appeared in a floor length gown that shimmered as she moved. A split from floor to mid hip on each side, her wavy hair brushed back, flowing behind her shoulders and half way down her exposed back.

A small gold broach that matched her gown pinned her mane back on one side, exposing an ear, one eye and the line of her neck while the other side was shielded by her raven locks, only giving tantalizing peeks as if she were demurely hiding behind modesty.

Venus goes Cosmo, Bob thought, as he glanced at the woman behind the bar to see if she'd noticed.

He was still amazed how easily Allessandra had been turned. He felt there was more to it than money. He was sure Allessandra earned quite well catering to the rich and famous. A hotel such as the Palace would never recommend anyone but the best. 

Scanner Bob suspected there was a wild side to Allessandra that had been trapped inside all these years as her father pushed her into a male dominated trade where her hand played along the inseams and lifted the crotches of fat old farts every day that thought much more of themselves than anyone else ever did.

"You are lovely," Bob intoned, raising his martini glass to Allessandra as she posed by the bedroom door.

"Thank you, Mr. Johnston, I'm glad you're happy," Allessandra replied as she sidled up to the bar and raised her waiting drink mirroring Bob's own. Checking the time on his new Rolex, another of the day's purchases, he noted it was after eleven. 

The entertainment should be arriving shortly he thought, turning his attention to the bartender. He stepped up beside Allessandra at the small black marble bar that occupied a corner of the suit, his empty hand playing down her spine and slipping under the gold mesh that covered her ass, all the time smiling at the bartender, and asked, "And are you a college student, Dear?"

"No, Mr. Johnston. This is what I do," she replied with a smile as she refilled both their now empty martini glasses.

"Oh," Bob exclaimed, "And does it pay well, Dear?"

"I do quite well, actually. But really, I shouldn't be discussing this with a guest at the hotel. Sorry, Sir."

Allessandra wiggled on his hand and giggled as his fingers found a sensitive spot.

Looking at the young girl's name tag Bob leaned into her space and said in a half whisper, "Then I guess a thousand dollar tip wouldn't interest you."

Cindy was used to propositions involving large tips and big spenders. Some she accepted and some she refused. She looked from Mr. Johnston's searching eyes to Allessandra's dreamy, lost expression, then at the gold broach in her hair and noticed a smattering of rubies, down at Mr. Johnston's Rolex and said, "Why yes. I believe it might. What did you have in mind, Mr. Johnston?"

Bob quietly explained as his hand provoked more giggles and squirms from Allessandra. Cindy re-negotiated and threw in a few extra services she thought they both might find enjoyable, and by the time the string quartet arrived at half past eleven, Cindy was serving drinks in a pair of spike heels, a red glitter covered G-string and her black bartender's vest sans buttons.

"Vivaldi. I want Vivaldi," Bob commanded as the three men and one woman sat at the ready, music stands in place, instruments at hand, Allessandra looking on from the couch.

A knock on the door and a late night dinner was rolled in. A chef the hotel had recommended from 'Le Petit', a fine French eatery in town, waddled along behind the two carts and set up station to the side of the string quartet.

After an hour of Vivaldi, Bob waved his wine glass in the air, his hand running across Cindy's rump as she stood by the table to serve the wine, and declared Amadeus much more appropriate. "A decadent man! Mozart knew how to live!"

A few more glasses of wine and Bob became expansive, insisting that Cindy should serve the musicians as well. "And don't forget my fine fat chef," he'd blustered, patting the man on the stomach as he swaggered by, "He must be a true connoisseur of fine wines!"

Turning to Allessandra he gestured expansively and declared, "Time for desert! My prodigy will be serving desert for everyone. Darling?"

With that, Allessandra stood, her ruby lips set in a glamorous starlets smile from the 30's, reached over her shoulders and under her hair, and as if by magic, her dress fell in a puddle at her lovely ankles. There was really nothing else to remove. Bob enjoyed the spiked heels too much.

Stepping up to Cindy, Allessandra leaned in to plant her first kiss of many the night. The quartet froze in mid note and the already flustered chef turned beet red.

Half an hour later, a stack of bills appeared on the cleared dining table and Bob declared the suit, "A clothes free zone."

His last recollection of the nights celebration was the cello player sidling up to Allessandra's rump as she serviced the violin player that reclined in front of her on one of the two sofas, running his hands along the outside of her hips, up her slender waist, and further to her pendulous breasts that bulged slightly past her rib cage and declared her the perfectly tuned cello just before driving his point home with his elongated bow.

Scanner Bob had finally let go; gave up control, and let the world play on without him as he fell asleep beneath Cindy, happy thoughts of hunting knives, razor cutters, pruning shears and small, troublesome handguns floating around in his head. Oh, and that wonderfully pointed ice pick.

*****

"I don't understand, Tom, what are you talking about?"

Linda stood in her kitchen, still grasping the handle of her carry-on. Tammy leaned on the kitchen counter listening to one side of the conversation, one hand raking Linda's hair and tickling the back of her neck.

"No. My battery gave out and we've been traveling most the afternoon."

Linda pulled her small suitcase to an upright position and glanced at Tammy as she listened to Tom.

"I went by to check-in. No one was there. The night crew told me the crisis was over. That you and the Captain had decided I could take care of the rest."

Linda's roll of the eyes changed quickly to concern as she continued to listen.

"Okay," was all she said before hanging up the phone.

"That was, Tom. He wants us to go out and look for the, Entity. He received a mail that he thinks is important but can't find the Entity anywhere. Poof! Gone! No explanation, no goodbye.

"He also wanted to know if my cell phone is working, and, if we've had any contact with the Entity today."

Tammy followed Linda into her bedroom. She sat on the edge of the bed while Linda threw her suitcase on the mattress and pulled the zipper around, taking note of Linda's demeanor. She seemed upset – troubled by something. Angry.

"He received a message on his office mail, found it at home while trying to find the Entity on his home laptop," she continued as she threw dirty clothing on her bed until she came to a white Macy's bag that had been hidden, sounding frantic she continued, "The message is cryptic and may be truncated. The message said I've found me. There's a bigger problem. Danger. Must notify FB. Tom has no idea who FB would be. It has to be someone all of us know, or the Entity wouldn't have sent it." 

"Linda," Tammy said, raising her palm to Linda's arm, signaling she should stop.

"Do you know who FB would be?" Linda asked almost accusingly. Tammy noticed Linda seemed on the verge of tears.

"Linda," Tammy implored.

"I mean, Tom said this thing," Linda hesitated, "This, this, this Entity, is just gone. That he's still trying to find him. I mean, he told the three of us we could always find him. Any time we wanted. Just turn on our computers. And now Tom's trying and he can't find him anywhere!"

"Linda," Tammy was calm but firm, "it's not the Entity; it's Michael." Stepping around the bed her arms came up and hugged Linda to her, "It's okay to say it. Michael. You've lost him again and you're worried."

Linda broke down and started sobbing. "Why did this happen? Why us? Why you? Why Michael?"

"Here, let's turn on the laptop and plug you're phone into the charger. Let's see if we can find him. Maybe he's waiting to talk to you."

They broke their embrace and Tammy went for the laptop. Linda dug in her nightstand for her charger and they met back in the kitchen.

Phone charging, they watched the computer go through its boot up process. Tammy finally stood and rummaged in the refrigerator for something cold to drink as the minute's drug on and nothing came up on the laptop's screen.

A small chirp from Linda's cell phone brought a bright open smile to her face when she read the new message notice. "This must be him. Let's see."

Flipping the phone open, Linda's smile faded and she finally read the message to Tammy, "Palace hotel. May be Bob Nunn. Be careful."

Looking up Linda asked, "Do you know, Bob Nunn?"

"Yes. I got his job courtesy of, Michael."

"The Palace Hotel is an exclusive five star hotel here in San Francisco. Why would he be here and why would, Michael, urge caution."

"Well, we haven't been paying much attention to the news, but the last time I saw Bob, he was literally being dragged out of our offices in New York by the FBI"

Tammy glanced at the laptop and decided the odds Michael would come out were slim. Cradling it in her arm, she took Linda's hand and led her back to the bedroom.

Sitting the laptop on top of the dresser she shoved Linda's dirty clothes to the floor, set the suitcase beside the small pile and climbed on the mattress, pulling Linda with her.

When Linda had returned from the office, Tammy related the story of the black Mercedes. Linda explained that no one was in the office keeping vigil on the Entity, and drove to her apartment leaving Tammy to wait on the stoop with the luggage while she put the car away for the night.

Stepping in the building, Linda had taken Tammy's hand and pulled her up the steps like some adolescent pulling her first love. On the second floor landing, they'd necked outside Mr. Fleming's door like a couple of kids while the evening news blared on his television inside the apartment.

On the fourth floor landing the necking had become a little more heated as groping became involved, buttons undone and zippers slid down.

By the time Linda was fumbling with her keys, Tammy was making a full frontal attack to shushing sounds Linda made, trying to stay off Tammy's attack enough to keep the situation private. At least for the moment.

As they practically fell through the door in a passionate embrace, the phone started ringing.

Tammy felt the moment was lost and suspected Linda felt the same way. She also felt a need to comfort sitting on the bed as she pulled Linda's top over her head, the sports bra she'd become so familiar with followed. Then the rest of her clothes.

Linda was non-responsive but didn't resist as she was tucked between the covers. 

Tammy stripped and slid in beside her, spooning up from behind to drape her arm around Linda, holding her close, deciding this wasn't the moment for the talk Linda kept referring to.

"We have to put the pieces together, Linda. If Michael comes out, we'll see it," Tammy ran her fingers across Linda's collarbone tracing a line from one shoulder to the other, "We've got a lot of information. Everything from Chicago, what Michael's told us."

Tammy's finger fell into the small of Linda's throat where she traced a small circle, "We have Theodora Miller and Waverly Hills," Tammy shifted as she felt Linda start to turn, "We've also got Bob Nunn. We seem to know a lot of things."

Tammy stopped talking when Linda's tear streaked cheeks and wet eyes came into view.

"We don't have, Michael," Linda stated flatly.

Tammy traced a line down Linda's spine and offered, "And we never will if we don't take our time and put all the pieces together." Her hand splayed across Linda's bottom and she was rewarded with warm lips on hers.

Finally, pulling away, Linda whispered, "Thanks, Red," a small chuckle came from somewhere, "But we still have to talk about this." With that Linda nudged Tammy until she rolled onto her side, and snuggled in behind her, their bare bodies creating a small comfort zone under the blanket.

There was no doubt or trepidation, nor was there unbridled passion. Only a gentle glow that emanated from the point of contact between Linda's naval and the small of Tammy's back.

Linda buried her face in Tammy's hair and fell asleep listening to Tammy's gentle breathing. 





Chapter 16

Tom rubbed his eyes and padded in his boxers, through his kitchen to the coffee pot. Pouring a cup he stood at the sink and looked out across his backyard.

Hearing the girls stir he glanced at his laptop which had been on all night on the kitchen counter and noted the absence of any messages from Michael. Disappointed but not yet discouraged, he poured a second cup of Columbian brew, added two sugars and a dollop of cream and headed upstairs to try and catch the shower before his wife.

Setting the cup on her nightstand, Tom headed for the shower and started his day.

He'd solved the FB question. It was fairly straight forward. He also felt he knew what Michael meant when he said he'd found himself. But what's the new danger?

He and Michael had become good friends through Linda and he trusted his judgment. If Michael said there was danger and felt the FBI should be notified; then Tom felt it was time to at least bring them up to speed.




The Entity Pt. 06



He made a mental note to start the process of unraveling Waverly Hills and its holding companies. Also pursuing Theodora Elizabeth Miller. He was sure, just as Michael had been, that she was dead, but following her might take him to someone else's door.

Toilet sounds told him Mary was up and in spite of repeated threats to make him sleep with Biscuit, the family hound, Tom launched into his best Barry White imitation.

The response was almost immediate. "Don't forget to take your house key with you tonight. I still want you to bring up my coffee in the morning."

"Aw, come on honey. You know you love it when I sing dirty for you."

Tom's wife, an Irish American redhead, worked as a senior VP for one of the bigger banks in the country and enjoyed their morning banter.

Pecks were exchanged as they traded places and Mary stepped into the shower.

"Honey," Mary yelled above the running water, "Don't forget, we have Sarah's play tonight at school."

"I'll try. You know we have this thing at the office."

She knew. Being part of the banking community, she knew more about the current crisis than most mere mortals. She was also one of the few non-ICB employees that knew the true identity of the Entity.

"I'll forgive you if you must, for Michael, but please try."

Tom responded with a grunt as he stretched the skin on his chin through the exclusive male ritual of face contortions, and pulled the razor down leaving a shining patch of ebony skin between the snowfall of shaving cream that surrounded it.

"Just like mowing grass," his father used to say, "Ya gotta set up a pattern and follow it. Keep that lawn manicured son."

A muffled thud and a blur out of the corner of his eye announced the arrival of the twins as they landed in the middle of mommy and daddies bed. A pair of seven year old whirling dervishes who's latest main interest was daddy mowing his grass.

"Does that hurt, Daddy?"

"No, Sarah, it doesn't"

"If you cut it all off today, why do you have to cut it off again tomorrow?"

"Because it grows back, Patricia."

"What happens if you don't cut it, Daddy?"

"It gets really long, Sarah."

"And what happens if it gets really long, Daddy?"

"I get really hairy, Patricia."

"And what happens if you get really hairy, Daddy?"

"Mommy might not like me anymore, Sarah."

Tom wiped his face down with a hot washcloth and steeled himself for the next inevitable what if.

"And what happens if mommy doesn't like you anymore, Daddy?"

Spinning on the balls of his feet, Tom charged the two girls standing in the doorway of the bathroom growling. Sweeping one into each arm, he hustled them onto the bed where his fingers connected with as many ribs as possible, bringing the squeal factor to 10.

"If mommy doesn't like me anymore, then she won't let me kiss her. If she won't let me kiss her anymore then I'll only kiss you two," he announced in as menacing a voice as possible, raising his voice a little and bugging his eyes as much as a forty three year old man could stand, he continued, "and if I kiss you two with a hairy face," Tom paused for effect before yelling in his best monster voice, "You'll both get hairy faces TOO!"

By the time Mary arrived warm and pink from the shower, wrapped in a towel, Tom had the kids wound up nice and tight. Leaning in to kiss his wife on the cheek he whispered, "I'm so glad it's your morning to drop them at school."

Mary slapped him on the butt and threatened Leprecon revenge. "I'll hide your pot of gold!"

Finding his favorite morning talk show, Tom started his day stuck in traffic. Where are you, Michael?

Checking his cell phone, he was disappointed a second time.

"Damn it to hell," he said as he hit the steering wheel with his fist.

*****

The three sat around a dark wood meeting room table. The Doctor and Rudolph in plush leather high back swivel chairs. Theodora sat in a padded, quietly vibrating therapeutic chair.

While her muscles were weak, Theodora seemed energized. The Doctor had explained that her strength was probably much lower than Michael's, but given the fact she had been rescued from her aging and deteriorating previous self, she was overwhelmed with the wonderful state of her twenty year old body. Still urging caution, he did recognize their need to start making decisions.

Occasionally glancing in Theodora's direction, the Doctor was amazed at the pale skinned beauty with flaming red hair that managed to dominate the proceedings.

"Columbia is coming up next year," she said, "How's our recruiting program going?

"We're down to two candidates. Interestingly, one is a woman," the Doctor answered. "Both are being indoctrinated and a final decision will be made in January. The winner will get a new body," pausing to allow question or comment, he continued, "The one not selected, will, of course, be eliminated as the other candidates have been."

"That sounds good, Doctor," Rudolph said."What's going on with our two presidential candidates?" Theodora asked.

The Doctor again had the answer, "As discussed in our meeting a week ago, Beth, my assistant, has completed the next version of Kevin's software. I think this is a good time to address earlier concerns. After careful consideration, I believe we must push things to the younger candidate. At 71, I don't believe we can take a chance on Richards, dropping dead from a stroke before we even get established.

"If you agree Theodora, I'd like to bring our past work into play and push the election to the younger candidate."

"As long as we've kept the situation sanitary and nothing can be traced back to us, go ahead."

"Good." 

Rudolph searched through his papers and asked, "What about the termination of Kevin and Gerald's contracts?"

"All in order. They've been promised a luxury vacation, their first real vacation in all the years they've been working for us, to enjoy their money. The Bahamas I believe. Traveling together, they'll both perish when their plane goes down. Unfortunately, we have to sacrifice a perfectly good private jet and crew of three, but appearances must be maintained."

"Very good, Doctor," Theodora seemed pleased. "I would say that's it for now. Gentlemen, let's get started."

Everyone laughed and Theodora felt a flush. Just the thought of what waited at the roof garden made her heart beat stronger.

*****

Beth wandered through the tank room, out into the surgery theater and across the hall to the staff suits.

"Hi good looking," Gerald ogled her as he walked by, "How about the Bahamas?"

Gerald and Kevin both thought Beth was nothing more than a trusted technician. They also thought their promised millions made each, bachelor of the year; a catch for any woman.

She and the Doctor had always been discrete, taking care that no one else on staff was aware of their liaisons. She did her best to keep up appearances.

"Oh, how nice. When do you leave?" she even managed to flutter her lashes a little. 

"Next Monday. You want to come along? I'm sure we can find something to do for two weeks," Gerald's lascivious smile indicating what that something might be.

Leaning in, she toyed with the lapel of his rumpled lab coat as if it were the Shroud of Turin, "Gee, you know I'd love to. But who's going to watch over the living dead while our stars are gone?" She purred and Gerald blushed.

What an idiot she thought, as she reached her apartment.

Having spent the night with the good Doctor the previous evening, she needed to feed her cat and check on TIM.

Cat fed, petted and watered, she was disappointed to find TIM had finally crashed. She'd suspected it would happen. She just hadn't been able to work out the memory allocation problems for such a huge program. Even the six gigabytes she'd had custom created in their technical shop in the basement wasn't enough.

Oh well, she thought, hitting the power switch and shutting the machine off completely, I'll find time tomorrow, or maybe the next day.

*****

Linda wandered, sleepy eyed, into the kitchen to find cut fruit, croissants and juice. The smell of coffee permeating the apartment. Unlike Linda, Tammy was dressed and going over the newspaper she'd picked up while getting croissants from the corner bakery. Looking up, she waved her over, patting her thigh.

Pulling Linda onto her leg like a Macy's Santa, she ran her hand up Linda's bare back and raked her hair with her fingers.

"Hey, Sleepyhead, how you feeling this morning?"

Linda stifled a yawn and asked, "What time is it, anyway?"

"After seven. I've been trying to see if there's anything in the morning paper that might help us."

Linda moved to the next stool. Eyeing the food she said, "I'm famished."

"If you want to shower and get dressed first, I can make us some eggs."

Linda dug in, mumbling around her fork in response. Downing her glass of juice she said, "Clothes are optional. Food isn't. Make the eggs anyway."

A half hour later they were headed out. 

*****

The tires squealed slightly as Linda turned the corner. They'd decided they had time to check on Michael's last message to Linda and see if they could locate Robert Nunn.

Handing the keys to a valet, Linda followed Tammy into the reception area and waited while she started the inquiry.

"I don't show a Robert or Bob Nunn registered," which didn't surprise Tammy. Launching into a description of Scanner Bob, including his hygiene habits, Tammy was told in no uncertain terms that if she didn't even have the correct name of the person in question, she certainly had no right to find him.

Looking on, Linda stepped up and flipped her ICB credentials open on the registration desk. "Well, let's see if we can broaden my friend's rights a little."

"Let me get the manager."

When the manager appeared he wrinkled his nose as if some foul odor had suddenly blown in and said, "If I'm correct, that would be the Internet Crime Bureau. Also," he stopped to flip a piece of lint from his lapel, "The ICB, just like our fine police department, has no right to invade the privacy of our guests without an arrest or search warrant."

Leaning slightly to emphasize his need to look down at Linda, the manager waited.

"But I do have a right to do a spot check of every computer in this hotel," Linda paused for effect, "Including your guests. Now, the way that works is, you, as the manager, will accompany us as we go from door to door. You will bring a pass key and observe our work as we rifle every laptop we find in every room. Who knows what we might come across. I have a little program in my car that just loves to snoop out the porn habits of people."

The manager straightened and started to pale as Linda continued, "We don't really care if the owner of the machine is present or not. If we find a computer, we check it. Then again, we will have to search every room just to determine if there's a computer there or not.

"How many rooms do you have here? I bet this could take ALL day."

Back peddling, the stuffy manager thawed slightly and invited Linda and Tammy back to his office.

Sitting at his desk, back straight, no expression, he said, "We do have one guest that might fit the description you gave. Not with the hygiene habits you described, but he did pay for a week in advance in cash. Not unheard of but certainly different."

"What name is he registered under," Linda asked.

"You must understand that complete discretion must be exercised."

"Did you know that if this is our man, the FBI is looking for him?" Linda asked.

With that the manager placed a quick call to the front desk requesting copies of all the information they had on Mr. Fred Johnston.

Sliding the copies across the desk to Linda, the manager stood and cleared his throat signaling the meeting was over.

Scanning the papers Linda found a Suit number, as well as a black Mercedes with a dealer plate number from the state of New York.

Tammy felt a shiver run up her spine when Linda pointed out the vehicle information.

They decided Waverly Hills was next on the list. Linda checked in with the Captain and then she called Tom as they cruised south enjoying the sun.

"Right. We couldn't find him either."

Handing the open phone to Tammy, Linda downshifted for a curve and said, "You talk to him. I seem to be busy."

"Hi, Tom, this is Tammy."

Tom explained his plan for the day and said they should check in before six.

Tammy curled in the corner of the cockpit finding perch on her leather seat and watched Linda as she cleared San Francisco's commuter traffic and pushed the Jaguar south. She could see how the five and a half hour trip could be shortened to four as the speedometer floated between 85 and 90.

Looking over at Linda, one hand at the top of the oversize, wooden, steering wheel, the other resting gently on the gear shift, Tammy tried to put the square peg in the round hole.

Yes, she thought, she had enjoyed falling asleep in Linda's arms last night. And yes, she had her share of girlfriends. But that was different, wasn't it. They spent time shopping and talking about boys.

Then there had been that time in college. A drinking game that turned into a dare as she and another sophomore, down to just their panties, had stood in the middle of the Frat meeting room and necked for five minutes. She really couldn't recall what happened after but it certainly wasn't this. She couldn't even recall the girl's name.

And this time, there were no boys around to entertain. No one was watching. No one was daring. No one was pushing.

She hadn't been able to get Linda out of her mind while following Mildred around the archives in Chicago. She found herself thinking what a real kiss might be like. What other things, things that made her blush even now, might feel like.

But she couldn't say it was about sex. In fact, she wasn't even sure she could, well, go all the way with Linda. It was about liking her. A lot. More than she wanted to admit.

She saw Linda glance over and smile, her hair buffeting, framing her face. Kicking her shoes off, Tammy curled her feet up under her on the leather seat, reached over, took Linda's hand and put it on her knee where she was rewarded with a squeeze and another smile.

Enjoying the way Linda's nails raked the inside of her thigh, Tammy fell asleep wondering how such a thing could happen. 

*****

Ten miles north of LA they saw the smog. The inversion layer was heavier than usual. 

Tammy navigated with a Map Quest printout and they found themselves on a palm lined boulevard rolling through a quiet residential area that may not have been homes of the rich and famous, but were none the less impressive sitting a good distance back from the boulevard.

"Maybe we should stop here and decide what we're going to do," Tammy said.

Linda parked and Tammy pointed at the red brick building peeking out between palms and oaks about half a mile ahead, perched up on a hill.

"That should be it. I looked it up on the internet this morning. It has quite a history by the way, and we should find a gated entrance with a small brick building that's the crematorium. What's the plan?"

Linda contemplated the building in its sunny, forested setting, and tried to see past the incongruence of the peaceful setting to the evil they thought might lurk within.

"I guess walking in the front door and asking to speak with Michael would be out of the question?"

Tammy rifled a sheaf of papers in her lap looking at old photographs of the grounds, buildings and people that had been part of Waverly Hills, decades before.

"Well, we're really going in blind and given what little we know, you probably couldn't get away with that. If this crazy plot is true and they did do something sinister to Michael, they might know you," pausing to inspect an SUV that drove by slowly, she continued, "But they shouldn't know me. Maybe I can get in and take a look around. What do you think?"

"Sounds like a plan to me. Let's cruise the front entrance and I'll drop you once we get past it."

Rolling slowly, they were both distracted by the pristine state of the crematorium and front entrance, completely missing the small, mirror windowed security shack that sat about fifteen feet back from the closed gate.

Linda dropped Tammy fifty feet beyond the gate and sped to the corner to turn around so she could watch.

Her printouts in hand, Tammy stood at the gate and contemplated the long driveway that curved up and away from the entrance, glancing at her papers before studying the crematorium. She wanted to project tourist to anyone that might be watching through the three cameras she'd detected.

She jumped when a security guard stepped out of the foliage to ask if he could help.

"Oh my. You scared me."

"Sorry, Miss," his smile was broad and his face nicely tanned. California Hollywood hopeful, was her first thought.

"That's okay," Tammy hesitated as she searched his shirt for a name tag. Her eyes didn't miss the shiny black holster where a handgun was sheathed either. "Hi," Tammy stuck her hand through the gate, "Buck. I'm Christine."

Deciding there wasn't much danger in shaking the hand of this beautiful redhead, Buck's calloused hand slid into hers.

"I'm from Iowa, you know, the potato people?" Her smile was disarming. Buck had no idea what he was up against.

"Sure do, Miss," Buck was grinning like a school kid.

"Well, my mom told me about my grandfather. He was here as a patient back in the 40's," Tammy smiled back and twisted one of her sandals causing her knee to dip and her hip to rock. Posturing that didn't go unnoticed by her attentive audience.

"Anyway, my grandfather died here."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Miss," you would have thought it had happened last week given Buck's exaggerated concern.

"So my mom, she's never been to the place, when she heard I was coming to LA she said I just had to stop by and see Grandpa Smith." Tammy stopped and pulled on her hair. It was obvious to her that that explained it all.

Buck felt real sorry, and all, but he didn't think her grandpa was still up on the hill.

Tammy pulled up the corniest laugh she could find and waved her hand for emphasis, "I know that silly. She just thought I should come by and see the place. You know," Buck was nodding yes, like it made perfect sense to him, "walk the halls, maybe find his room."

Her smile broadened as Buck's head bobbed. Yep, she thought, this is going to be a breeze. She stopped, tilted her head a little and flipped her wavy red locks with her empty hand expecting Buck to just open up and let her in.

"Sorry, Miss, but its private property now. I don't have any idea what they do up there now."

Tammy recovered quickly. "Aw shucks," heaping on the corn pone. She was sure no one from Iowa spoke that way, but she was equally sure Buck had no idea how people from Iowa spoke. Reaching back through the fence she thought Buck would jump out of his skin when she teased the button of his uniform shirt, just above his belt.

"That's too bad," twisting and pulling, "I just thought you'd be able to walk with me and show me all the, well, you know, secrets."

Buck's eyes didn't stop rolling once Tammy started pulling on his uniform button. She knew what secrets Buck would like to show her. "Well, I actually worked here before the new people bought it. I watched them fix it up, and all."

Tammy was trying her best and Linda watched from up the street as she leaned into the gate, her face nestling between two black uprights. Once in place she pulled gently on Buck's button sure he'd follow.

Once he was close enough she said, "Well, maybe you could show me some of the secrets of LA instead," accenting LA with a tug on his shirt button.

Five minutes later Linda drove past the now deserted gate and picked up Tammy about fifty yards beyond the gate, still walking.




The Entity Pt. 06



"You are such a slut," Linda said as Tammy fell into the seat beside her.

"Well, how else was I going to get on Buck's good side?"

"His name isn't really Buck is it?

"Yep. And Buck has a really big ... ah ... gun."

"Hey, Buck didn't have a chance," and they both burst into laughter.

Tammy explained what she'd learned. Linda was disappointed and continued north on the boulevard. It looked like a closed door and her mind was busy trying to figure out how to get past Buck and his really big gun. 

"Oh, I forgot to tell you," and Tammy paused, wanting Linda to ask.

Looking at Tammy, Linda finally said, "What. What did you forget?"

"Well, I do have a plan B. If we can't work anything out today, I'm supposed to meet Buck at The Boom at nine o' clock tonight."

"Way to go, Red," and they both high fived.





Chapter 17

Michael had enjoyed the feel of cool green grass on his bare feet for nearly half an hour and decided it was time to get out of the sun. His coordination was improving daily and his gate was almost normal. Unfortunately, he couldn't go fifteen paces without stopping to rest. His nurse assured him that would pass soon.

Sitting in the shade of one of the umbrella tables, he sipped iced tea and watched as birds flitted from tree to tree.

Lost in thought, he didn't notice the girl with red hair that was pushed to his table in a wheel chair.

"Hi! Are you, Michael?"

Michael brought his eyes down and looked to his right to see a true beauty sitting beside him. He took in the long wavy red hair that flowed over her shoulders, emerald green eyes that turned away demurely as his glance passed, the pale, china complexion sprinkled with cinnamon.

"Sorry," Michael finally recovered, "Yes. I am." Michael hesitated to raise his hand. Given the wheelchair, it might create an embarrassing moment if she couldn't shake his hand.

"I'm, Theodora. I think you met my great-great-grandmother."

Michael tried to recall meeting the grandmother of such a beauty. Then it hit him, "Mrs. Miller? Right. I did meet her. I haven't seen her for a few days though. Isn't she Theodora also?"

The pale pink lips opened slightly in a smile showing perfect white teeth, "Yes she is. I'm named after her. In fact, if I can find a photo of her, I'm everything after her. They say I look just like her. Well, when she was younger."

Michael was relieved when she saw the young Theodora shift in her chair, her hands rising from her lap to rest on the arm rests of the chair.

Michael's nurse stood, "Michael, I'm going to go get something else for you to drink. I'll leave you here with Miss Miller's nurse," and signaled to a woman sitting two tables away. "If you need anything, just let her know. Can I get you something, dear?" the nurse asked Theodora.

"No thanks."

They sat a few minutes; both seemed content to be in the sun. Finally Theodora spoke.

"Isn't the garden lovely?"

"Yes it is, Theodora."

"No, Michael, call me, Teddy. That's what my dad always called me."

Michael showed her a smile and said, "Teddy, it is."

"Did you know my grandmother, Michael?"

"Know her? Did she go somewhere?"

Teddy touched the corner of her eye and said, "She passed away yesterday. The day I arrived."

Michael was overcome. The gentle woman that made him promise to keep an eye on her grand daughter, his benefactor, had died and he didn't even know it. He moved quickly to scoop up Teddy's delicate hand.

"I'm so sorry, Teddy. I met her that once and the only thing she talked about was you."

Michael watched as Teddy smiled, turned her eyes away and blushed.

"I know. I got here in time to see her before she ...," no word came to mind and Teddy turned her gaze to her lap.

Michael finally ventured into murky water, knowing he really couldn't discuss his situation, "And what are you here for?"

Teddy looked up, a big open smile and said, "Dancing lessons!"

They both laughed.

Michael perused this frail study in beauty, taking in how small she appeared in her oversized wheelchair. She can't be much over twenty, he thought. So young and she seems so lost and alone. Squeezing her small hand he tried again, "Really, Teddy, are you, well, going to be okay?"

Her eyes rose from her lap and she said, "How nice of you to care. As a matter of fact, the Doctor says I will be. They did the final procedure yesterday," she continued, following the script, "It always makes me weak for a while, but the doctor said yesterday was the last treatment. That I'm cured!"

She ended with a smile.

"That's great, Teddy. We'll celebrate with iced tea when my nurse gets back!"

Teddy squeezed his hand back and they fell into meaningless chit chat. Theodora knew better than to pry with things Michael might feel uncomfortable answering. And Michael was too much of a gentleman to pry about the undefined procedure that had left her so weak.

When a full pitcher of iced tea arrived, Michael raised his glass to Teddy and smiled when she managed to lift hers a couple of inches off the table. Leaning into her straw, they drank to each others health.

An hour passed in a minute and Michael felt better than he had since coming back to life.

His second toast was to Teddy's grandmother. "To a wonderful woman. A real humanitarian."

Teddy seconded the toast and melted inside. Her centennial plus age positively vibrating at her father's toast to his only daughter. 

*****

Bob whistled as he walked out of the bank. His papers had worked nicely. His new account was open, a PO box as the mailing address, residence on his driver's license given as his summer home. Fifty thousand dollars cash deposited in crisp new, hundred dollar bills. "That's just money I carry when I travel. I'll be making a larger transfer tomorrow."

Arriving back at the hotel, he found Allessandra in her spike heels working diligently on his shirts. All evidence of their night of debauchery swept away.

"We'll have company shortly, my dear."

Allessandra looked up and smiled before turning back to her stitching. His eyes wandered across the line of her back, the curve of her bottom and the lines of her legs. He marveled at the sincerity of her smile. That she didn't budge. No need to get dressed unless Mr. Johnston deemed it prudent.

He'd picked up a small giveaway that advertised properties for sale and rent in the area. Finding the photo of a bright eyed young woman with coffee colored skin, he'd made an appointment to discuss rental property in the area. 

Explaining his need for absolute privacy, at least ten acres of wooded property, two bedrooms and a basement or cellar, she'd promised to bring several possibilities when she dropped by. 

It didn't need to be a showplace; he'd added, just solid construction with privacy. Six months should do the trick. He was writing a book and should be able to finish in the six months.

Having successfully re-invented himself, he was no longer on a kamikaze mission that would take him down along with Tammy. He now had plans. Maybe even a bright future, he thought, as he eyed Allessandra putting the finishing touches on his last shirt.

He was sure Allessandra was going to participate. He just hadn't decided what role she'd play.

Picking up the phone, Bob replied, "Sure. Come on up," he gave Sarah Callow the suit number.

His fingers dipped into the inside pocket of his new suit jacked and he fingered the twenty one hundred dollar bills he'd placed there.

Should be enough, he thought, as he ogled Allessandra's naked form and waited for their guest to arrive.

*****

Tom hit pay dirt. Theodora had been a dead end. Branching out into the growing list of shell companies and their subsidiaries, he came across a small software company. Extensive searches revealed that Brown Bag Software was a wholly owned subsidiary of Brighton Medical Group, which was listed as the new proprietor of Waverly Hills Clinic, Los Angeles, California.

Taking that information he turned to BANC. Banking And National Commerce was a system operated by the FBI to track movements of money inside US borders. A sister system to BAIC, was BANC's international counterpart.

It took another hour but he finally extracted three names from the web of front companies, as carefully, and skillfully as any forensic detective lifting latent finger prints from a murder scene.

The kicker was that he knew one of the three sole employees of Brown Bag Software. Calling personnel, he was practically glowing when the thin file was delivered to his desk.

Gerald Wade. Computer whiz. Cal Tech and MIT. PhD specialized in control systems. Post Doc. Nano technology. Interviewed ICB by none other than himself.

Tom recalled. Clearly brilliant, Mr. Wade, still just a kid had wandered in off the street, curious about what they did. Computers and crime, he even grinned when he said it. 'Sounds like fun.'

As with most government agencies, people are often interested until money is discussed. When a mega buck industry that can make you an overnight millionaire is your principal competition, the bright and the best are seldom found behind government issued doors, sitting at government issued desks, pounding away at government issued hardware that's always at least six months behind the rest of the world in benchmarks and technologies.

That wasn't the important part. Tom recalled the interview quite well. Gerald had put forth his ideas about DBI – Direct Brain Interface systems and gave a thumbnail sketch of how it should work. 

Gotcha, Tom thought reaching for his phone.

*****

"Good. Now say it again."

Tammy wrapped her tongue around the strange syllables and tried to mimic what Linda's brother Ben had said.

"Domo."

"Right, that will do. Now you must face my mother, eyes slightly downcast, say domo and nod slightly in her direction. Remember, it's not the super domo in Houston. It has two distinct syllables. Doh-moh, but only one character or symbol"

Tammy looked around the table and noted the slight smile on Linda's face. Turning to face Mrs. Woo, Tammy lowered her eyes and said, "Domo," nodding her head slightly.

Ben cried foul immediately, "How on earth could you do that! You've insulted my family!" His expression of mirthful indignation said it was all a joke.

Tammy turned crimson red, her face practically matching her hair, and looked to Linda for rescue. "What did I say?"

"No, it's okay. You said thanks," Linda explained, "It was a very SMALL thank you. Something you might use in the market or with a doorman at a hotel.

"In a Japanese home, as an honored guest, you would say 'domo arrigato gozaimas'. That last ones a little hard. It's goh-zah-ee-mahss. My pig of a brother is playing with you."

Realizing Ben's game, Tammy turned toward Mrs. Woo once again, lowered her eyes to the middle of the table and said, "domo arrigato gozaimas." Her pronunciation was perfect.

Mrs. Woo smiled and said in return, with her own small head nod, "Doitashimashite."

Tammy looked at Linda, who translated, "She said you're welcome."

They'd spent an hour going through building permits and deeds looking for information about Waverly Hills. No architectural drawings were found but simple floor plans were stapled to the original request to start remodeling. They made a few copies, followed the paper trail to a law office in Chicago and decided it was time to find food.

Linda didn't say specifically where they were going. She just alluded to a great Japanese restaurant she knew.

Pulling into a quiet alley lined with honeysuckle bushes, Tammy smiled when they parked behind a modest bungalow with a small, immaculate, green lawn that boasted a small rock garden that was carefully raked, gentle waves rolling through the gravel, two larger rocks placed at counterpoint to one another at opposite ends.

"My father's contemplations," said Linda stopping beside Tammy while she took in the tranquility of the space.

Bordering one side of the yard was a stand of bamboo.

A petit woman, dish cloth in hand, gray hair impeccably pulled up, appeared at the back door inspecting them both as if they were insects.

Her face broke into a broad smile and a litany of sing song sounds, Tammy had no chance of understanding, poured forth.

Tammy was completely shocked when Linda responded in kind, the timber of her voice completely unrecognizable, as she greeted her mother and introduced Tammy.

Although Linda looked Japanese and Tammy knew, at an intellectual level she was, in fact, first generation Japanese American born to Japanese immigrants, it had never occurred to her that Linda came from a world so different from her own.

Following Linda onto the back porch, she stepped out of her sandals, leaving them beside Linda's, before stepping into the house.

The kitchen turned into a house of babble as Linda went to work helping her mother. "Just wander around. You'll know my bedroom when you find it."

Tammy padded slowly, almost reverently from the kitchen to the dining room, noting western style furniture with small trinkets of Japan set on shelves or hanging on the wall. The floors throughout were a dark hard wood with a matt finish.

In the living room she found the family pictures and marveled at Linda through the years. From pig tails to braces and straight cut bangs that covered her eyebrows, to a gawky teenager in what must have been a prom dress.

Three pictures of a Linda at about six years old with a small wrapped bundle in her arms. A sibling she decided.

Tammy smiled openly at the black haired urchin that stood leaning into the camera, arms up, hands at the ready, flat outer edge menacing a full chop, her white, oversized outfit synched with a brown belt.

Horse back riding, skiing on a blanket of white and giving someone a very mean look over her shoulder as they took a picture she didn't want to participate in.

Another appeared to be a college graduation, the woman starting to appear. Another ceremony of some kind where Linda was receiving an award, and a picture of the Linda Tammy knew, waxing the Jag.

Tammy walked around the room slowly and came upon another marker in Linda's life. A silver frame sitting on a table by itself. A picture of Linda and someone that must be Michael in an embrace, smiling for the camera. A small brass incense burner set to one side, fragrant ashes in the bowl shaped base.

She realized she'd never seen a picture of Michael. She didn't recall any at Linda's apartment, more specifically in her bedroom. Handsome and rugged. Also very European looking which Tammy noted but was not surprised by.

Moving on she looked down the small hallway and saw a bright pink door with yellow and white plastic daisies stuck on it like Herbie the Love Bug. That's gotta be Linda's room, she thought with a smile.

The rapid sing song of mother and daughter continued and Tammy took a step down the hall only to be confronted by a grim faced Japanese man that had to be Linda's father.

Linda's mother had yet to speak to her in English and Tammy had no idea if she did, in fact speak English. She froze in place and wondered what to do.

"You must be Linda's friend. I'm Linda's Father, John," and a hand came out, a grin spreading across his face.

Tammy's hand came out, "I'm Tammy Spalding, Mr. Woo."

"Very nice to meet you, Tammy Spalding. You must be looking for Linda's room," turning slightly he continued, "I bet you can't tell which one it is."

Mr. Woo chuckled and stepped past her, headed for the kitchen. A new voice was thrown into the song Tammy was coming to know as the Woo household.

She smiled to herself when she stepped into the Linda Woo museum. The normal memorabilia of any all American teenage girl. Everything was white enamel. A small pile of stuffed animals invaded the pillow space on the small, twin bed.

Pictures stuck under the frame of the mirror. Scenes most likely from high school. Bonfires and lakes. Snow fights and snowmen. Tammy's fingers stretched a black cloth belt that hung across the middle of the mirror then ran her fingers through the pompoms that hung from one corner of the mirror. She made a little cooing sound and stage whispered 'A cheerleader!'

A hand reached around her waist and a she felt a spread of warm softness from behind. "Damn straight," whispered Linda, warm breath tickling Tammy's ear, "Head cheerleader to boot. Keep that in mind the next time your hand is wandering around under my sports bra."

Tammy blushed and let her weight fall back slightly, resting in their embrace. Noticing their image in the mirror, she looked in wonder at the contrast. Both about the same height, Linda's head rested on Tammy's shoulder, her dark eyes smiling as they met Tammy's. Tammy's flaming red hair a torch beside the black silken beauty of Linda's nightfall.

Linda's hand slipped up Tammy's stomach, beneath her top as she continued to whisper, "That's my black belt too. I had to do something to fight the guys off."

They swayed together as Linda's eyes held Tammy's, her hand pushed up under her bra, fingers splayed and Tammy's small pale nub trapped.

They both jumped when Linda's father yelled down the hall, "Come on girls. Time to eat."

Turning to leave, Tammy hooked her finger in the back of Linda's jeans and smiled at what she saw piled on a chair behind the door.

*****

"Okay, I have another," Ben said making a face at Linda. Tammy could see the two fighting across the super table as kids.

"This is what you should really say. 'Gochiso sama deshita'." 

"Again," Tammy requested, head cocked, listening intently.

Turning toward Mrs. Woo Tammy once again lowered her eyes and repeated, "Gochiso sama deshita." Her hands came up, palms together and her head dipped in respect.

The table was quiet for a moment and Mrs. Woo smiled broadly saying something to Linda.

"She's very happy. She said you are very welcome and that you will learn Japanese very quickly."

The meal ended and Tammy stayed to help in the kitchen.

Her mind was a jumble of incomplete thoughts, ideas and emotions. She played back snippets of her time with Linda in her mind and tried to define the undefinable. To her, and she was sure, to everyone that knew her, the unthinkable.

Leaving Linda and Mrs. Woo chatting over the last of the plates, Tammy sought out Linda's brother for one more lesson in Japanese.

Please be sure to take the time to vote and comment. I hope you're enjoying the story as much as I enjoyed writing it. Much more to come. BTW – This is a sequel to The Sentinel. 



The Entity Pt. 07



This is the story of love lost, love explored, and love found in a place least expected. It is also a mystery that involves power, money, greed, and lust. While not as graphic as most here at Literotica I hope you find it an entertaining read. I apologize for the state of the work. It still needs proofing. Please vote and comment. 

JPMMURPHY 

Chapter 18

CNN – Breaking News – Republican presidential hopeful, Kerry Richards, has made no comment concerning recent allegations that ten years ago he was involved in a five year relationship with a twenty six year old staffer from his office. In light of photographs, several video tapes, copies of e-mails and other correspondence discovered inside a suspicious box abandoned at JFK airport in New York, that caused a bomb scare until authorities X-rayed the cardboard container and finally decided to open it, there seems to be little room for denial. Going through the contents, trying to identify the boxes owner, the FBI were surprised to find tawdry black and white photos of Richards, frolicking in the buff, and more, with a young man later identified as Josh Winston, a former Richards aid. Oddly enough, once revealed, the videos could also be found on-line through any of the more popular search engines. Richard's wife had no comment. The FBI is currently investigating and CNN will bring you new information as soon as we have it.

*****

Michael sat patiently, waiting for the sunset. Now that he knew why, the euphoria of being clutched from the jaws of death had diminished.

He watched longingly out his small portal on the world at the bright yellow ball that was minutes away from the ocean. Linda's laugh echoed. He felt her silken hair slide between his fingers. The smell of jasmine from her soap, the soft warmth of her lips on his.

His eyes welled but no tears ventured forth.

"A penny for your thoughts."

The voice startled him and, for a split second, he felt intruded upon. He knew it was almost there. His journey's end, yet he turned to see the source of the voice.

"Teddy. Hi!"

"I'm sorry, you seem, distracted," Theodora looked genuinely demure, "I should come back tomorrow."

"No! That's okay. I was just thinking. And how are you this evening?" Michael noted the change of wheelchair to an electric model. Suddenly, he realized that was the same chair Mrs. Miller used when she stopped by.

"I'm okay. Feeling much stronger after my nap. They think I might be shuffling around by tomorrow. I just got bored. I mean, it seems you and I are the only ones in the place and I thought I'd stop in and see if you wanted to take dancing classes with me?"

Michael chuckled at Teddy's mirthful smile and noted her hair had been pulled back in a thick braid that hung over the back of her wheelchair.

"Sure. We'd make quite the pair."

Teddy laughed, "I'm electric now, you could sit on my lap and I'd whirl you round the floor!"

The room fell quiet, Teddy speculating on how she might be progressing with her prey. Michael smiled, enjoying Teddy's beguiling presence.

"Really, Michael, I actually came by to ask a favor."

"Sure, Teddy, what can I do for you?"

"Well, as you know, my grandmother died a couple of days ago," Teddy paused and Michael nodded solemnly, "And believe it or not, she headed up quite an empire. It also turns out, that since the death of my parents a year ago, I'm the sole heir.

"The lawyer has called and would like to meet with me tomorrow. I know it's a lot to ask, but could you come to the meeting with me? I'm really a klutz with such things and I just want some moral support."

Michael didn't hesitate; it wasn't as if he had something more important to do. "Of course, Teddy! What time?"

"Well, I told them noon. She had an apartment here. We're meeting there. Your nurse will bring you up."

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," Michael offered, "Besides, maybe I can learn enough to swindle you out of half your fortune." His smile was more lopsided than lecherous and they both laughed.

Wheeling closer, she said, "All you have to do is ask, Michael."

Michael turned back to the window and noted with renewed sadness the sky was quickly fading to purple and the sun's bright disc had disappeared. He thought of Linda but was nagged by an image of Teddy, her quiet beauty pushing into his thoughts.

Theodora was urging her body to gain strength for tomorrow. 

*****

There he was. Alone at a table in the dark, crowded club. They'd discussed the plan and Linda lurked in the wings, waiting to make her entrance.

"Oh!" Tammy squealed like a fifteen year old, "You did come! I thought you were putting me on."

Buck stood and, to Tammy's eye, even in the dark, blushed as he stuck out a hand in greeting, "Why sure. I was afraid YOU might not show up."

Taking their seats, Tammy leaned in, her fingers interlaced below her chin, trying to find that dreamy eyed little girl look that had worked so well in college.

Buck lasted less than fifteen seconds as Tammy let the silence hang, "So. What do you want to drink?"

Tammy continued her soulful stare a beat more and replied, "Oh, a beer. Thanks."

Buck flagged down a waitress, ordered the beer and turned back to his redheaded goddess. He couldn't believe his luck. Jim, his shift partner bet him twenty dollars she wouldn't show up.

"So, ah, wait. What's your name again?"

Tammy fluttered her eyes and said in a breathy voice, "Christine."

"Christine. That's a pretty name. So, what did you do this afternoon? I mean, after you came by the clinic."

"Oh, just wandered around. I found a Japanese restaurant and ate. Stopped at my hotel to call my mom," she paused as if finished and waited for Buck to open his mouth to speak before continuing, "Oh! And I thought about you!"

Buck nearly melted in his chair. Before he could recover, 'Christine's' beer landed on the table, the waitress just kept moving. That was Linda's queue.

Taking a sip, Tammy just stared dreamy eyed at Buck and wondered if he was really that gullible.

Buck's eyes wandered openly across her face, up to her hair and down to her chest. Oh yea, this is gonna be a good one, he thought.

He was annoyed when he saw Christine's eyes turn away, looking at something over his shoulder. He turned to see what the distraction was and was flustered when he bumped his head into the breasts of a soft young woman that was standing right behind his chair. Her eyes locked on Christine's.

They'd agreed that Buck should start the conversation. "Ah, can we help you?" Buck seemed duly annoyed.

"Well," the Asian beauty began, "my girlfriends and I have a bet."

Buck waited for her to continue noticing the deep splash of her navel just below her midriff top. Pulling his eyes away he said, "And?"

Stepping around the table, Linda walked up to Tammy and whispered in her ear. Buck's mouth fell open when Tammy nodded her head and the Asian beauty leaned down planting her mouth on Christine's, their eyes closed and Linda's hand came to the back of Tammy's head trapping her there. Enough wet grinding to squeeze an orange dry, their lips parting to let Buck see the dance of their tongues.

"Wow!" Tammy exclaimed as Linda released her head. Buck watched as Linda rocked back on her heals and gave a big thumbs up to an unseen someone over his shoulder.

"I made a bet with my friends," Linda explained turning to Buck, "That I could get whoever they picked out to kiss me," turning to Tammy she continued, "I'm sure glad they picked you. Where did you learn to kiss like that?"

Buck froze as he tried to figure out how to take the exchange. Here Christine was, all dewy eyed for him, and this Asian chick comes and steels all his glory. On the other hand, he'd just watched one of his fantasies come true. He thought caution could be the best response.

"So, do you kiss girls a lot?" he asked Linda.

Linda guffawed and blushed, a very real blush, and said, "Only this one."

Tammy reached across the table and pulled one of Buck's big hands out of the clench they'd formed and said, "Can she have a beer with us? Please, Buck," her expression went starry eyed again, "Pretty please with anything you want on top?"

All doubt was gone, "Why sure. Pull up a chair."

Buck waved for the waitress and downed his beer. When she arrived Tammy yelled, "Beer for everyone!"

Buck glanced across the table and noticed the Asian girl nodding yes, just as her hand fell across the back of Christine's chair, perfectly timed with the small squeeze he felt in his palm.

"Yes," he said, "Hell yes!"

*****

Scanner Bob continued to pull Allessandra's hand as they went down the stairs. He hoped no one happened upon them as he noted the black streaks down her cheeks, her vacant stare, mouth slack, as she swished along in her beautiful gold dinner gown from the previous evening's activities.

"You really must hurry, Allessandra."

Bob struggled with the duffle bag over his shoulder as they negotiated the next landing.

"Ah, yes, yes I must, Mr. Johnston."

He figured she was in shock and thought it was a good sign that she'd responded. He just needed to get her out of there before she found herself and started screaming.

Finally coming out into the parking garage he continued to pull Allessandra along, occasionally tugging hard when she'd stop and start crying again. The small remote in his hand, he repeatedly pushed one of the buttons until a silver Honda Accord beeped at them from across the rows of cars.

Shoving Allessandra in the passenger seat, he threw his duffle bag in the back and pulled out. Since he never used the visitor parking, there was little chance the girl that changed his parking ticket, collecting twenty four dollars, would recognize either one of them.

He had no destination. His heart was till pounding in his chest. Not from fear. From sheer exhilaration. From the adrenalin pulsing through his body.

Turning right, merging with the traffic, he recalled his other two suits that had been abandoned. Oh well, he thought, I can always have Allessandra make more.

Sarah had been more than he'd hoped for. Mid twenties, no husband, no children, no time. "Why, Mr. Johnston, with the market as hot as it's been the last two years, there just hasn't been time."

They'd spent an hour going through 3 x 5's of properties and talking about the features and amenities of each. Teresa had glanced several times at Allessandra's naked form as she sat demurely in an oversized chair, flipping through channels on the television, the sound muted, feet folded to the side hiding what Sarah might have felt was a rather vulgar view.

Bob had no idea how Sarah dealt with the situation. How she justified sitting eight feet away from his Venus, casually talking with a client, was beyond him, but then, this was California, and a hotel full of rich eccentrics.

Selecting a property, Sarah cooed and ahhh'ed, reinforcing her client's decision. "I was just out there this afternoon, it's a great choice," she'd said, digging in her purse to pull out a set of keys, "It's not even listed yet."

"You and your wife will love it. It's a three bedroom log cabin with a fruit and wine cellar. Vaulted ceilings, two car garage; all the amenities. And it's very isolated. It sits at the end of a two mile lane in the middle of fifty acres."

Bob had stopped listening after the fruit and wine cellar was mentioned. Noticing the small digital camera in Sarah's briefcase, he plucked it up as he acknowledged Sarah's questions. No, the price isn't a problem. No, the two months deposit was not a problem either.

Finding the on button he held the camera to his eye and searched the viewfinder for Sarah's smiling face. Click. Yes, he could sign tomorrow. Turning the camera sideways, getting all of Teresa in the picture he clicked again.

"Mr. Johnston, what on earth are you doing?"

"Oh, I'm sorry dear. I just thought you were so lovely. I wanted a picture."

There was no crimson blush of Sarah's coffee colored skin, just a slight darkening of her neck and chin.

"A drink, Dear, to celebrate?" Sarah's eyes locked onto Allessandra's thighs standing less than a foot away offering drinks.

"That depends on our guest, Dear." Turning back to Sarah, Bob snapped another picture that featured her cleavage. "I'd also like to pay the entire amount in advance. I really don't want any distractions while I'm working."

Sarah's eyes finally withdrew from his Venus and she found her voice, "Oh. Right. That would be great."

"I think we should celebrate. What do you think, Sarah?"

Sarah had already decided she'd done other things with, well, other clients; just to get them to CONSIDER a piece of property. This one had already said yes.

"Oh, and one more thing, Sarah. Is there an option to buy?"

That clenched it. "Ah, is there a bathroom I can visit?"

"Sure, Dear. My, ah, wife will show you the way."

After the two had been gone for nearly thirty minutes, Bob wandered into the bedroom, dropping clothes as he walked, to find the two naked women, tangled on the bed.

Walking past Allessandra's beckoning hand; Bob knelt beside his duffle bag and started digging around. Muffled moans and quiet sighs were the opening to a Rhapsody that would soon be elicited from Teresa.

"Watch, Tammy. This one's for real. The others were just play acting, but this one's for you." The whispered wish faded beneath the sharp click of the razor knife and Bob smiled broadly.

Chapter 19

Fox News – This just in. Josh Winston, allegedly involved in a five year relationship with republican presidential hopeful, Kerry Richards, the extent of which is still undefined, was found dead this evening in his Georgetown apartment, the apparent victim of a gunshot to the head. The FBI have made no official statement but undisclosed sources say a note, maybe a suicide note, was found on Winston's bedside table. Kerry Richards was a no show at the DAR gala he was scheduled to attend this evening and has not been seen since this story broke earlier today.

*****

Buck was enjoying himself entirely too much pulling Tammy along, who in turn pulled Linda, the casual interlace of their hands now a death grip.

After much pleading and unspoken promises, Christine and her new friend, the Asian girl, had convinced Buck to show them the place Christine's grandfather had breathed his last breath.

They'd driven past the main entrance and bounced in unison, Tammy and Linda giggling, as Buck pulled up and over the sidewalk half a mile past Waverly Hills, taking a gravel lane that wound up into the woods beside the property.

Linda started to wonder if Buck intended to collect on their veiled promises before he took them in. Finally heading back down the hill, driving along beside a security fence, his lights off, they parked by a small gate.

"This is a service gate the construction crews used to come in through. They used to park here," stepping out of his pickup; he motioned them to follow and disappeared through the unlocked gate.

"When the crews left, I think they forgot about this gate. No one put a lock on it."

They'd skirted the fence back down the hill for about fifty yards and found themselves back at the main entrance.

"Wait here," he stage whispered, turning to look at his two prizes.

Tammy circled her arm around Linda's waste and pulled her cheek to cheek, "We will sweetie. Hurry up, we're scared."

Buck showed a full spread of enamel and disappeared through the foliage.

"You have to keep him distracted. I don't know what we'll find, but I may need to get away," Linda whispered into Tammy's ear, turning it into a sloppy tongue swipe when Buck suddenly appeared.

"I had to get a set of keys. They don't let us take them home," Grabbing Tammy's hand he smiled again and pulled her toward a gray steel door in the back of the small brick building that sat beside the entrance.

"Once we get inside the tunnel, you can speak normal. There're no cameras out here but don't go past me. I know where they're located," looking over his shoulder for compliance; he pulled Tammy through a door into the next room. A round object, like a steam boiler, occupied most the room. Linda noted dog ears on a steel plate and tugged the three of them to their stops.

"What's this?"

"Oh, that's the crematorium. That was used to cremate the bodies when this place was a TB clinic."

"Uhhhh," both Tammy and Linda were duly impressed.

"I wanna see inside," Tammy planned on getting her moneys worth.

"It was restored but it's no longer used," Buck said, as he swung the latches and pulled the door open.

"What's this?" Linda asked holding up a finger smudged gray with some kind of coarse powder she'd found on the floor in front of the crematorium.

Bob leaned in and produced a small pen light shinning it on her finger. "Oh," not wanting to disappoint, "That's just cement dust from the construction."

Another tug and he drug Tammy, who was starting to wonder what they'd gotten into, toward another door.

"This is the body chute," Buck announced, turning to see the reaction. Tammy's mouth involuntarily fell open and Linda looked on with skepticism.

"No kidding." Buck pushed a door in and shinned his pen light into the dark shaft. "Come on," grabbing Tammy's hand he drug her through the dark doorway, but not before she grabbed Linda's hand and pulled her close behind.

"See how it curves," Buck shined his pen light again, trying to penetrate the veil of darkness. Tammy and Linda peeked around his arm.

"It was designed that way. People were dying so fast and they wanted to get them out of the main hospital so the other patients wouldn't find them. So they'd put them in the body chute at the top and slide them down. The drop and the curve would keep them on the outside wall of the long tunnel. These stairs were in case a body got stuck or something. Someone would have to walk up and get em started again."

This time Tammy wasn't pretending when she responded with a low croak.

Buck pulled them along the purpose built, shadowy stairs, as they ascended. Passing the bend Buck stopped and played his light across a dark mark that ran along the wall where it met the smooth concrete floor and continued the tour, "That black mark on the wall and the floor is axel grease that was put on the bodies so they'd slide. Once they got to the bottom they were burned in the crematorium."

Tammy wasn't enjoying this at all and really didn't feel like playing the game anymore. She white knuckled Linda's hand and hesitated when Buck pulled them along again.

Sensing Tammy's discomfort, Linda leaned close and whispered, "I think your boyfriend is full of shit."

The spell Buck had cast was broken and Tammy started giggling which caused Buck to look over his shoulder, misinterpreting the situation, "Hey you two. Don't get started without me."

They both laughed and said in unison, "Oh, we won't, Buck."

When the tunnel became shallower Buck stopped, holding up his free hand. "Okay, you have to be quiet again and stay close. I know where the cameras are and how they work."

Tammy released Linda's hand and leaned into Buck, her arms circling his waste, "Is this close enough for you, Bucky," which elicited another giggle from Linda.

"Ah, well, that might be too close. Just stay close!"

They came to a steel security door and Buck slid a key in. Pulling it open he stepped through, pulling Tammy and Linda to the right just inside the door. Pointing over his head they noticed a security camera pointed down the long hall.

He ducked into the first open door which was a long cafeteria or dinning room. Tammy marveled at how everything looked brand new, the chairs and tables awaiting guests in the dining room looked like the originals, perfectly restored.




The Entity Pt. 07



A long silver serving station ran along the inside wall, a small rail to push your tray along jutting from the steam tables, silverware sitting out in trays and an ancient soda fountain waiting for service.

"No camera's in here. We can get all the way to the end of the hall," Buck whispered.

Linda noted the pristine appearance and wondered if it would be going back into service any time soon. Walking past a waiter's door she glanced in a round portal at eye level and saw a completely new, modern kitchen for serving hundreds at a time. Bags of potatoes and flour could be seen in a corner and red lights on refrigerators indicated they were running.

At the end of the dinning room Buck stopped again and whispered, "We're going to cross the hall to a door beside the elevator. They haven't put cameras in the stairwells yet."

Like a trio of cat burglar's, they tiptoed across the hall and disappeared through another door that Buck opened with his set of keys.

"Do you know what floor your grandfather was on?"

Tammy was lost in the wonder of the place and drew a blank when Buck asked his question. Linda nudged and whispered, "What floor? Your grandfather."

"Oh, right. I think he was on the third or fourth floor. Either one will do. I bet they all look the same."

"Come on."

At the first landing Buck explained that it was the only patient floor left. That one floor up, the third floor, was surgery on one side and staff apartments on the other. And that the fourth floor was closed. He didn't know what was there.

"We can try and get into one of the rooms so you can see it. That's about the best I can do."

"Is there anything else to see, Buck?" Tammy leaned in and planted a kiss on his cheek. Buck was sure it was the first of many he would be receiving that evening and glanced nervously at Linda.

"Well, there's a roof garden. There are no cameras up there. We can go see that."

"Great!" Linda exclaimed making her curiosity known to Tammy.

Buck's heart pounded like a big bass drum and it had nothing to do with being caught.

Stepping out into the cool night breeze, Linda and Tammy took in their surroundings as Buck explained.

"They put a big patch of real grass up here, kind of like a pool. See those white tables?"

They could barely make out ghostly white shapes in the darkness that sat among the shrubbery along the outer edge of the roof.

"Those are umbrella tables that sit around the grass," and he pointed to a dark kidney shape in the middle of the open space.

Grabbing Tammy's hand again, he pulled her away from Linda toward the grass. Laughing he started explaining, "I brought my girlfriend up here once, we did it right in the middle -," Buck stopped realizing what he was saying.

Linda ran past Tammy in bare feet and grabbed Buck's arm, pulling him along, "You naughty boy. Does Christine know you have a girlfriend?"

Buck stopped short of stepping on the grass and knelt, untying his boots and pulling them off as Linda back peddled onto the grass, grinning at him wildly, urging him to follow.

Tammy ran past sans sandals and hung on Linda's shoulder, grinning at Buck as he finally pulled off his second shoe and white socks followed.

"Follow my lead," Linda whispered.

As Buck took his first step onto the grass, Linda raised a hand and stage whispered, "Stop!"

Buck stopped, balancing on one foot before stepping back off the grass.

Linda crossed her arms across the font of her body, hooked the edge of her top, and pulled it over her head, suddenly standing topless beside Tammy. "You can't come on the grass with your clothes on, Bucky."

Buck's confused expression turned to a goofy grin as he started undoing the buttons on his shirt, his hands bouncing back and forth between buttons and his belt, not sure which to undo first.

Tammy pulled her own top off and stood in a white bra that shone like a beacon, egging Buck on.

"You get naked," Linda whispered as she made a show of undoing her jeans, "I need to find something."

Tammy wined, even as she pushed her jeans over her hips, "Why do I have to get naked?"

She watched Linda's receding figure as she ran up to Buck, stopped and they both spoke, and she ran on, disappearing toward the end of the roof they hadn't explored yet.

Seeing that Buck was down to his boxers, Tammy pushed her jeans to the grass and stepped out of them. Deciding that was enough for the time being, she watched as Buck stepped onto the grass, Tammy snickered; thinking Buck looked, well, buck naked striding in her direction. Tammy could tell he was expecting action as he bobbed along.

He grabbed for Tammy as soon as he got close enough and she made a show of squealing and running out of reach. Buck lunged and she taunted, "Not till our friend gets here. You don't want to miss the show do you, Buck?"

Buck just stood, hands on hips, manhood at the ready and grinned. "You forgot something didn't you?"

Tammy made another show of girlish giggles, hooked her thumbs in the waist band of her thong and slid it to her ankles.

Tammy straightened, feet slightly apart, hands on her hips mirroring Buck and asked defiantly, "What did you say your girlfriends name was, Buck?"

Caught off guard, he stammered and finally answered, "Andrea."

Linda came sprinting by with something in her hand. Holding it between the pair she said gleefully, "Look what I found." Her hand held a coil of yellow rope she'd found in a utility closet beside the bathrooms.

Buck's grin returned when he recognized the coil of rope. Reaching for it, Linda pulled it away and said, "This is for you sweetheart," her voice low and sultry, "We're going to get real kinky!"

"Go get one of those chairs, Christine."

Tammy ran to one of the umbrella tables and struggled with a heavy white wrought iron chair. She plopped it down heavily in front of Buck and pointed. "There you go, big boy."

Buck hesitated until Linda leaned in and kissed Tammy, a hand coming up to fondle one of her breasts.

As he sat he complained, "Its cold!"

"That's okay, Bucky," Tammy whispered in his ear as she leaned over his shoulder, assuring warm, soft brushes of their skin, "We'll get it real warm real soon."

Once Buck was secured to the chair, Linda looked around the grass and found Tammy's panties. Taunting Buck with the small lacey garment like a red flag in front of a bull, she whispered, "Do you like these, Buck?"

Buck nodded eagerly and said, "Yes."

Linda walked closer and held the wisp of material under Bucks nose and watched his eyes roll. Leaning in she whispered, "Open wide."

Buck hesitated and Tammy walked up beside Linda and ran her hand across her back before leaning down to kiss the side of Linda's throat, then leaning further. Buck's mouth fell open and Linda quickly stuffed the lace garment into his mouth. Pulling up the free end of the rope tied around a chair leg that held one of his feet in place, she wrapped the excess around Buck's head several times and knotted it in place across the lacey gag.

Buck pulled against his bonds and moaned unintelligible words into his gag. Linda stood; arms crossed, covering her chest, watching Buck as Tammy walked around trying to find her clothes.

Tammy pulled on her jeans and whispered to Buck one last time, "Think about this big boy, the next time you decide to cheat on, Andrea."

Linda leaned down and whispered in the other ear, "Night night, Bucky."

With that she produced one of Buck's white socks that hung pendulously from her tight grip, brought her arm back and hit him on the back of the head with a sharp thud. Tammy watched his eyes roll and his chin drop as he slipped into unconsciousness.

"We've gotta get going," Linda said glancing at her watch.

"What did you hit him with?"

"A bunch of nuts and bolts I found with the rope."

"But why did I have to get naked," Tammy wined playfully as she hooked her bra and pulled her top over her head.

"You loved every second of it!" Linda answered.

"But did you have to use my panties?"

"I'm not wearing any."

Stopping for their shoes, Linda rifled Buck's pants for his car keys and the heavy ring of keys to the building.

*****

Tom turned over in bed and checked the time. Midnight. He wondered why Linda hadn't checked in.

Rolling out of the bed he padded to the bathroom before returning to snuggle against his wife. He was somewhat surprised when she responded in kind and was soon lost in her arms, his concerns for Linda sliding off the bed along with the covers.

*****

Scanner Bob pulled up at the dark cabin. Leaving Allessandra's sleeping form in the car he got out to explore.

Gaining entrance he made his way to the garage. Finding a small lighted button he pressed it and was rewarded with light and sound as the garage door came up.

He pulled the car in, retrieved his duffle bag and a small grocery sack, and headed for the kitchen. Searching among the groceries he found what he was looking for.

Checking to see if Allessandra was still asleep, he continued exploring until he found a narrow door that opened onto a dark stairway leading down.

Finding a light switch, he descended to the fruit and wine cellar. The stairs ended on a concrete floor. A wall covered with an elaborate wine rack that ran the length of the cellar, faced him. Looking to his right he saw a furnace unit. To his left was a work bench.

Stepping around the stairs he was faced with a concrete wall with another door. Stepping through the door he smiled broadly at the dirt floor and walls of the small fruit cellar.

Using a hammer, the only tool he found on the heavy wooden work bench, he hammered the long piece of metal into the dirt floor where it trapped a heavy chrome ring. Giving it a tug, he was satisfied and went to roust Allessandra.

She staggered a little from the Mickey Bob slipped her in a cup of coffee when he stopped at the convenience store. He wasn't sure if she'd run, but he'd taken the chance, noting her increasingly agitated state.

Six night time cold pills had been enough to knock her out.

She stood in the middle of the small dirt room, a dazed expression on her face, and made no move to protest as Bob unclipped the strap at the back of her dress, pulling it over her head to keep it clean.

Stooping at her feet, he pulled a lock out of his pocket, and put it in place. Lifting first one foot, then the other, he removed her spike heels.

She started to turn slowly, her feet making small movements as she took in her surroundings, slowly waking up.

His voice was soft and smooth, "There you are my, Dear."

He didn't reach out to stop her fall when she finally became tangled in the chain that was now locked tightly around her ankle.

He stared down at her beautiful naked form sprawled on the dirt floor and said, "You really must be careful, Dear. You don't want to hurt yourself.

Allessandra just stared over her shoulder, too shocked to speak. No sound emanated as small rivers of tears streamed down her cheeks to land in the dark dirt.

Her mouth opened as Bob turned on his heel, flicked the light switch off and slammed the door shut.

She couldn't find her voice as she heard the clump of his feet on the stairs she'd come down. Another slam and Allessandra's body started to quake knowing she would never see the light of day again.



Chapter 20

CNN – In an unusual move, republican hopeful, Kerry Richard's, has decided to ignore completely, recent allegations of sexual misconduct, and was back on the campaign trail today in California. When pressed by a somewhat aggressive press corps, his only response was no comment. Many sources feel Kerry is making a mistake and recent polls seem to confirm it as his numbers continued to drop.

*****

Linda held a finger to her lips as she pushed on the safety bar that should open the steel door onto the fourth floor. Stepping back, she inspected the door again. Pushing harder, she finally gave up and motioned to Tammy that she should follow.

Stopping on the third floor she heard a satisfying click and pushed the door open gingerly. Glancing through the small crack, she pushed further to expand her field of vision.

Unable to see a camera she indicated with her hand that Tammy should wait. Before Tammy could protest, Linda slipped out of her sandals, through the heavy door and quietly clicked it shut behind her.

"Great," Tammy whispered finding a perch on one of the stairs to wait.

Linda pressed her body against the heavy door as she scanned the area around the elevator. Not finding a camera, she stepped out far enough to look to her left.

She was greeted by another heavy steel door and a small, institutional plaque that said simply 'RESIDENCE'.

Deciding that was staff quarters she leaned out again to look to her right. She was rewarded with a view of a semi-dark hallway that ran to the end of the building.

Probing the darkness as best she could with the low lighting she could barely make out what appeared to be a small camera, its glowing red light shining brightly in the darkened corner at the end of the long hall.

"Shit."

Her fingers rapped lightly on the door and she heard a click as Tammy pushed it open enough for her to slide back in.

Holding a hand up, indicating Tammy shouldn't talk, she led the way down to the second floor. She pushed the door open enough to see a brightly lit hallway and hear the low sound of people murmuring somewhere. She gently slipped the door closed and indicated Tammy should follow.

When they arrived at the first floor Linda noticed the stairs continued and indicated Tammy should wait.

Five minutes later Tammy started fidgeting. Another five minutes and she decided she had to go look for Linda. Starting down the dark stairwell; she almost fell when she ran into someone, a small gasp escaping before a hand clamped down tight over her mouth.

"It's me," she heard a soft whisper.

Taking Tammy's hand, Linda squeezed it in reassurance and pulled her back up the stairs.

They didn't speak until they made it back to Buck's pickup. 

"We have to get back to the office. Tonight," was all Linda said as she wheeled the cumbersome vehicle around and found the lane.

It was after almost two in the morning when they arrived back at the club. Leaving Buck's truck on the street, they locked the keys in and sauntered back to the entrance of the club. The pounding music could be heard through the front entrance as they retrieved Linda's car from the valet.

"I'll tell you when we get on the road."

As they rolled north, leaving LA behind, the speedometer indicating ninety, Linda glanced at Tammy and saw she was fast asleep. Lifting her foot off the gas, she drifted into a long sweeping curve and accelerated hard as she and the Jag became one.

*****

"Have you tried to call her this morning?"

The Captain appeared genuinely concerned as Tom sat tenting his fingers across the desk.

"I came in at six this morning to do some research. No, I haven't tried yet."

"The hell with her beauty sleep," exclaimed the Captain, punching the speaker button and a speed dial code on his desk phone, in one fell swoop.

At first he didn't recognize the groggy voice that answered. "Is that you, Linda?"

Fully awake, realizing what she'd done, Tammy nudged Linda off her chest and covered the phone. "It's your, Captain," she whispered.

Tom and the Captain just looked at each other as they listened to the whispered exchange.

"Yes, Captain."

"Linda, our wonder girl," the Captain boomed, "Where the hell have you been?"

"Los Angeles. The Waverly Hills Clinic," was the husky response. "We got in at six this morning."

Tom just turned his palms up and shrugged.

"But you're okay?"

"I was till you woke me up, Captain."

"Well, I'm sooooooooo sorry. And when can we expect her Highness to find time to come into the office?" The Captain heaped on the sarcasm and waited.

"Give me an hour, Captain."

"You've got thirty minutes, Woo," the captain boomed before clicking the phone off.

"Who answered the phone," the Captain's chuckle belying his feigned anger at Linda.

Tom just smiled and went back to tenting his fingers.

*****

She was dreaming she could fly when Scanner Bob threw the door open to find her still sprawled on the floor where he'd left her the previous evening.

"Come on girl," Bob said cheerily. It wasn't until he said it a third time and slapped his thigh, making a smooching sound with his lips, that Allessandra realized he was talking to her like someone calling the family mascot.

She'd spent the night on the floor, given no other choice. The room was completely dark, like walking into a cave without a flashlight.

While chilly, it hadn't been cold, but every itch, scratch or scrape she felt on her bare skin, she was sure was a spider, roach or worse.

She must have fallen asleep sometime. Given the filthy state of her entire body, including her face, it must have been a fitful sleep.

In her explorations she discovered the chain was too short to let her get to the light switch.

Still sitting on the floor, leaning on an arm, she looked up at her captor and said defiantly, "What the fuck do you want, asshole."

Bob paid no attention and addressed her with his best doggy speak. "Now, now. Be a good little bitch and daddy will give you some water."

Allessandra suddenly became aware of the thick cotton ball that had invaded her mouth during the night. Licking her lips she started spitting when she drug a dirt covered tongue back into her mouth.

"What do you want me to do, Mr. Johnston?" Her voice was neutral, which Bob misread as resignation.

Smiling real big, Bob brought a stainless steel bowl from behind his back and set it on the floor at his feet. "Come on girl," he said, pointing down at the bowl, his eyes bright, a big smile, "Come on girl. Here's your water."

Allessandra pulled her arms around and leaned forward to stand. Before she could, Bob's shoe swept her hands to the side and she rolled into the dirt again.

"Bad doggie," Bob bent at the waist and shook an accusing forefinger at Allessandra's prone form, "Bad doggie. How silly to think dogs can walk. You know how dogs drink."

Small puffs of dust rose as Allessandra breathed, almost panted, into the dirt floor, tears puddled turning the soil to mud. The harsh tone of Bob's voice made her jerk.

"Bad dog," Bob reached a hand into a fall of dusty hair that ran down spreading across her back. Grabbing a handful at the base of her skull he lifted forcing her to either get up on all fours or lose a hand full of hair. "Get up bitch, and drink your water right now!"

Spittle shot from Bob's mouth and a long clear line of drool shot toward the floor as he dragged Allessandra across the dirt floor, her hands and knees trying to keep up. Dropping her face in the bowl he yelled as loud as he could, "Now drink you bitch!"

Allessandra could hear it in his voice. This was someone visiting from the other side. Someone in free fall. Allessandra's survival instinct kicked in and she struggled to raise her head out of the bowl. Up on her hands and knees again, she bent her neck and lowered her face, her tongue running through the water pulling up a few drops.

Bob was ecstatic, "That's a good doggie," he said, his voice singsong as he reached down and patted Allessandra's bare rump.

The smell hit her and she suddenly realized she was lapping water from a real dog dish. The previous families' mascot. Fido or Rover. Skipper or Spot. She knew Mr. Johnston had simply picked the dish up off the floor and run some water in it. She didn't care. She wanted to live.

She became instantly alert when Bob's shoes disappeared and she felt his hands shifting her rump slightly to one side.




The Entity Pt. 07



"And daddy brought a doggie bone for his bitch." His voice had slipped back into the singsong of benevolent master and loving pet as he impaled her. Gritting her teeth, she let her head fall into the bowl as Bob found his rhythm.

"Good bitch. That's a good doggie," his hand alternately stroking and slapping her rump.

A grunt and it was over, Bob's body draped over hers. Her tears continued but no sound was heard as she drew ragged breath after ragged breath, waiting for Mr. Johnston to get off of her.

She saw his shoes as he stepped through the door and felt a faint glimmer of hope when he failed to close it behind him.

All hope was dashed when she saw the tips of his shoes again and heard him say, "And daddy has a reward for his bitch. Come on. Here it is."

Allessandra vomited when Bob sat a stainless steel twin to her water dish on the dirt floor by her face. She could smell the strong, meaty, almost sweet odor of canned dog food.

As quickly as he'd appeared, the light went out, door closed and Mr. Johnston disappeared.

Allessandra rolled to her side, pulled her knees up to her stomach and made a small ball in the dark, her body quaked and this time she found her voice as she mewed low and animalistic. "I'll kill you, you son of a bitch! I'll fucking castrate you!"

Allessandra's vow went unnoticed as Bob stood in the hot shower luxuriating in the suds as they washed across his shoulders and down his back humming that tune. He couldn't remember the words. He was sure he would by the time Tammy got here, but he recalled his mother singing it to him.

*****

They hadn't bothered to dress him. Pushing him down into a chair, hands now handcuffed, slightly sun burnt, his head throbbing from whatever that Asian girl had hit him with as Buck sat across from the Doctor.

He didn't know the Doctor's name. No one did. He just knew the Doctor was the last person you wanted to talk to.

"I can explain, Sir."

The Doctor's hand came up begging silence as he continued to leaf through a thick folder in front of him on the table. Gingerly separating a large color photograph, he pushed it across the table toward Buck.

"Would that be the Asian girl, Buck?"

Buck started to relax. The Doctor didn't sound that mad. Scanning the photo he was surprised.

"Why, yes it is, Sir."

"You're sure, Buck. Take a good look please."

Buck studied the photograph again and nodded as he spoke enthusiastically, "Sure is, Doc. She was with some other girl named, Christine. But listen, Doc, I can explain all this. I think my girlfriend sent them. I think it was some kind of test or something. Or maybe she just wanted to catch me." Buck was sure he had the answer. It seemed the more he tried to explain, the more flustered he became.

"That's okay, Buck. I bet that bump hurts. I'm going to have these guys take you down to Doctor Turner and we'll have her fix that thing back up."

Nodding, the two men lifted Buck out of the chair and headed him toward the door."

"Hey, Doc, can I get a robe or something?"

"I'm sure Doctor Turner has something down there she can give you."

Once the door clicked shut he dialed Beth and said, "I want you to try out the new speed scan on someone I'm sending down. Dispose of the body like all the rest."

The Doctor sat at his desk, flipping through Michael's file, trying to figure out what Linda Woo was doing at Waverly Hills Clinic, the previous night.

*****

"Yes, Captain, we did."

The Captain exhaled a breath of exasperation and looked from Linda, to Tammy, and back. "So, let me get this straight."

Linda started to speak, "Captain –

The Captain raised his hand commanding silence and continued, "Then you entered a suspect location without notifying your line commander, which would be me, or local law enforcement, that would be LAPD –

Linda tried to interrupt again, "But Captain –

The Captain held his hand up again, "Then you proceeded to, ah, assault, tie up, and abandon a non-suspect; that would be one Mr. Buck, last name unknown," looking from Tammy to Linda and back again, he added, "And Mr. Buck was, ah, buck naked. I'm not even going to ask."

The Captain leaned back in his chair far enough Linda thought it might fall over, tented his fingers over his chest and said, "And you took a civilian with you," nodding toward Tammy, "that would be our Miss Tammy Spalding who, but by the grace of god, is still alive to corroborate this Laurel and Hardy vaudeville act you consider good investigating."

The Captain bounced from Linda to Tammy, and back again. "Is that about right?"

Linda knew when to poke and when to let sleeping dogs lie. "Yes, Captain, that about covers it."

The Captain's chair creaked ominously as he leaned forward and slid the bottom left hand drawer open pulling a bottle of good Irish rye out and setting it on his desk. Fishing around he pulled three Dixie cups out and set them down in a straight row beside the bottle before uncapping and pouring three equal servings. 

Glancing at the clock on the wall he said, "It's gotta be five o' clock somewhere in the world."

Picking up the first in the line he downed the shot, wadded the paper cup in his hand and two pointed it off the door into the wastebasket. 

Nodding to Tammy, who shook her head from side to side, the Captain picked up the next serving and downed it just as he had the first. Aiming high, all three watched the wad of soggy paper bounce off the wall and drop into the wastebasket.

He contemplated Linda before nodding. "No thanks, Captain."

Picking up the small vessel and downing its contents, Tammy and Linda watched, spellbound as the Captain swiveled in his chair and hooked the paper wad over his head and it swooshed the basked, clunking loudly on the bottom of the wastebasket.

"Get the hell out of my office, Woo. I think we'll start again tomorrow," turning toward Tammy, he added, "and don't forget your protégé."

Striding down the hall, Tammy was incredulous when she noticed the smug look on Linda's face, "What the hell is so funny?"

"Don't sweat it, Red." Linda actually had a spring in her step."

"But the, Captain, is really mad!"

"No, you're wrong, Red. The, Captain, isn't really mad. The, Captain, is really, really pissed. Get your terms right."

Pulling up short, Tammy grabbed Linda's arm and jerked her around, "Stop calling me, Red. And why don't you care about the, Captain?"

Linda sidled up to Tammy and hooked her thumb in the belt loop in the back of her jeans and tugged gently, urging her to walk with her.

"That wasn't anger, Tammy. I've seen the Captain, mad, and believe me, he wasn't mad. That was love. He was worried about us and that's his way of showing it."

Tammy walked along, grudgingly at first and then fell into step with Linda as they exited the building.

Tammy suddenly felt weary and saddened. Linda hadn't had time to tell her what she'd found, but everything seemed to be winding down. That meant she'd have to go home. More important to Tammy, it meant she'd have to say goodbye to Linda.

"What now?"

Linda just smiled and pulled Tammy a little closer.

*****

Michael sat watching a distinguished looking gentleman shuffle papers on the conference room table.

While Mrs. Miller's wealth hadn't been a surprise, the extent of it had. His mind reeled from the litany of figures and numbers. When the family lawyer quipped that Teddy's personal worth now quadrupled that of the two richest people on the planet, combined, Michael's jaw had gone slack.

He turned to Teddy searching for a reaction. She sat straight in her chair, hands interlaced on the table before her and smiled. Not a greedy smile or lecherous, power hungry smile. Nor was it an ecstatic leer. The same, self assured, open innocence Michael had seen the previous afternoon as they'd shared iced tea.

"Will that be all Mr. Bartholomew?"

"Rudolph, my, Dear. Your grandmother and I knew each other far too long to stand on formality."

Teddy appeared to blush slightly and said, "Yes. Rudolph. Will that be all?"

"I know you're still recovering from your last treatment, but I do believe you should know about the visitor we have the day after tomorrow. Ah, I'm not sure how you want to handle things," Rudolph glanced at Michael, and back at Theodora.

"Go ahead Rudolph. Michael is my close friend. He just sat through the changing of the guard. I can't think of any secrets I have from him." 

Michael, intently studying Rudolph, jumped slightly when Teddy's fingers snaked into his palm, squeezing his hand. "Is this some ominous secret of the empire?"

"Not at all, Dear," turning to Michael, Rudolph offered an apology, "I apologize, Michael. I'm just so accustomed to Mrs. Miller's, ah, management style. You see, she never re-married and had no one to share things with."

Turning back to Teddy, Rudolph continued, "I think you're making a good decision young lady. Don't find yourself alone in twenty years with no one to share the wonderful life your grandmother has given you. That said, on to business. The democratic presidential candidate, Arthur Wright, will be visiting us this Saturday. You may not know that your grandmother was a great supporter and contributor of his. He'll be touring the facility and receive a small sampling of some of the technology we've developed. And if you feel up to it, your presence would be expected."

Squeezing Michael's hand, Teddy asked, "Would, Michael, be able to attend also?"

Rudolph beamed, "Why of course, Dear. I think that would be grand."

"Then it's settled! We'll both need new clothes and proper shoes, I want a manicure and Michael can have one too. Oh! Sorry. How rude," Teddy turned to Michael and asked, "Michael, would you like to be my date to meet the next president of the United States of America?"

How could he refuse, "Of course, Teddy. It would be an honor."

Teddy suddenly bounced like an excited child, "Did you hear that Rudolph? Michael said yes? Isn't that wonderful?"

Rudolph regarded both with a paternalistic pride, "I think that's wonderful Theodora. Oh, and you too, Michael"

*****

Teddy pushed her walker a foot and took two small steps forward. Michael stood a few feet away following her around the lavish, wood paneled room.

"That would be Grandma Miller's mother," Teddy pointed at a portrait of Elizabeth Miller hanging below a small spotlight.

"Now I see where the red hair comes from."

Teddy smiled demurely and pushed her walker several feet further, stopping in front of a portrait of a gallant looking gentleman looking off in the distance, expression serious as he seemed to scrutinize something out of the picture. "That would be Grandma Miller's father, Thomas Lee."

Michael studied the portrait and tried to find Teddy in the harsh demeanor, piercing eyes and aggressive stance. Fortunately, he couldn't.

They spent nearly an hour walking around Mrs. Miller's private domain, Teddy explaining the family history, the origin of pieces of furniture, who owned it, what house it was in, a few framed documents, photographs of a young Mrs. Miller standing with Thomas Edison and Henry Ford in front of a building looking stiff, glaring into the camera.

"Grandma met everyone. There's a photo album here somewhere. Maybe I can find it and we can go through it together."

Teddy pushed on but Michael stepped closer to the photo. "Did you know you look just like your Grandmother?"

A melodic laugh, "So I've been told."

Teddy finally settled on a couch as she explained its history as well. They chatted and finally fell into a comfortable silence.

Michael marveled at the opulence and wealth and how utterly unaffected Teddy seemed to be by it all. "So how does it feel, Teddy?"

There were few things a centenarian like herself couldn't anticipate but it took a minute for her to capture the meaning of Michael's question. "Oh! You mean to be rich."

"Not just rich, Teddy. How old are you?"

"A woman never tells her age," she chided, "but let's just say I'm old enough to buy a drink at a bar."

"And you are indisputably, the wealthiest individual on the planet. How does it feel?"

"Tired," she replied with a mischievous smile, side stepping Michael's question.

Michael took the hint and smiled back. "You're right. It's been a busy afternoon, and all that money must get heavy, just carrying it around," his laugh was relaxed and easy, making Teddy laugh in turn. "Maybe it's time I go."

Teddy watched Michael stand and noted how much stronger he'd become. His walk seemed completely normal and his hands no longer shook.

Looking up from the divan, Teddy started the next act of the days elaborate theatrics, "Michael, I am tired. But not of you. Could you stay? I'm so tired of having the nurse's watch over me. And you seem perfectly fine," Teddy's comely smile held Michael's gaze, her voice dropped, becoming more intimate; "We could call down for food and enjoy a real meal."

Michael hesitated as his gaze took in the splay of freckles across Teddy's nose, the lavish red hair that fell in waves across her shoulders, her delicate hands at rest in her lap. Recalling Mrs. Miller's request he decided caring for Teddy would not be such a difficult task to undertake while he convalesced and decided what to do next with his new life. Smiling broadly, he gave Teddy the smile she'd been waiting for. The one she'd seen so many times in Mexico all those years ago. The one she'd seen over candle lit meals. The one that had sent her to heaven, and brought her back alive, so many times in bed. She saw her fathers smile.

"Of course I will. How could I refuse such a, well, wealthy damsel in distress?" The smile was lecherous which made Teddy's body vibrate with feelings she'd abandoned many decades before.

"Damsel in distress?" Teddy's eyebrow cocked and her smile became just as lecherous, "You think me young, nubile and naïve, kind sir?"

Michael took a step toward Teddy, mimicking her romance novel dialogue. His voice low and menacing as he fell into his role, "Young and nubile, yes my lady. Naïve? Never!"

Teddy's arm came up, the back of her hand fell on her forehead as she feigned a maiden's swoon, "You cad! How dare you! What have you done with my knight in shining armor! I see a villain come to pluck this maidens ripened fruit!"

Michael was laughing as he fell to one knee at Teddy's feet, "But do you not know my fair maiden? My delightful damsel? It is far better to pluck the ripened fruit, than to let it fall rotting from the tree!" One of Michael's hands fell on Teddy's knee, the other pointing skyward, pointing out the source of such wise advice.

Teddy started giggling, "Do not hide behind the robes of god foul scoundrel, my lascivious brigand!"

The laughter died and Michael suddenly became aware of his hand on Teddy's knee. Catching his glance down, she quickly covered it with her own.

"There is something I need, Michael."

He suddenly felt like a school boy, afraid Teddy would notice the slight tremble of his hand, "Yes, Teddy?"

"I need a bath, Michael. Then we can order a meal. Would that be okay?"

Pushing to his feet, Michael blushed and muttered, "Sure. Let me get your nurse."

Teddy leaned forward, her hand resting gently on his thigh, "I didn't say I needed my nurse. I said I needed a bath. Will you help me, Michael?"

Taking her offered hand, Michael helped Teddy to her feet. There was no protest as she pulled his arm around her back and placed his hand firmly on her waist, leaning into him.

Flustered, Michael looked around, trying to decide which door would be the bathroom and Teddy pointed without speaking.

He could tell she was still weak as her body quaked in his arm with each step they took together. Teddy would have laughed, knowing better why her body quaked.

"Here, Michael, sit me here."

Lowering Teddy onto the edge of an enormous marble tub he stepped back to the middle of a bathroom the size of his patient room. He thought it odd there were no mirrors in the room.

Teddy slowed the pace and softened her voice, a woman of experience wanting to sip the pleasure she anticipated, not gulp it down to quench a passing thirst.

"I like a hot bath, Michael. And those must be bath beads. Add them."

Testing the water, Michael watched as thick white foam rose slowly in the tub.

"Could you help me up, Michael?"

His arm around her waste, he lifted Teddy gently to her feet. Michael watched as her hands untied her sash, her robe falling open to reveal her hospital gown beneath.

The robe fell into a puddle at her feet and Teddy stepped into Michael's chest, leaning her forehead on his breast bone.

"I don't think I'm strong enough, Michael, could you take it off?"

His fingers trembled as he fumbled with the knot on the back of her gown. Finally pulling it free, he tugged the small strips of cloth gently to each side and released them, the garment falling from Teddy's shoulders.

His mouth opened but he found no words to describe the naked beauty standing before him. She swayed slightly and Michael brought his hands up to her shoulders.

Theodora Elizabeth Miller had worked more than sixty years for this moment. She had spent a fortune, ten times over and regretted none of it. Tilting her head back, her luxurious red mane fell along her back, her emerald eyes came up to meet Michael's.

The longing was real as she implored with her gaze, pressing her bare breasts solidly into his chest.

The rush was just as real as Michael's lips came down on hers, gentle at first, then pressing and furious as passion's spell was cast. His tongue did not solicit entry with gentle explorations. It demanded and took. A conquering army of one that ravished her mouth.

One of his hands came down and pressed roughly on a breast, his fingers finding her inflamed nipple, squeezing and rolling the small nub.

His other arm circled her shoulders and pulled their bodies together.

Michael pushed Linda's insistent pleading from his mind and surrendered to the young, nubile beauty that moaned beneath the weight of his lusty attack.

"Wait, Michael."

He persisted, the small voice lost in the rush that filled his ears.

"Michael. Wait," Teddy pressed gently on his chest and Michael finally came back. Realizing what he'd done, Michael immediately felt embarrassed not knowing what had come over him. It was as if his body was controlled by someone or something else. Something much stronger than he was.

"I'm sorry, Teddy. I don't know what came –

Placing her forefinger on his lips she shushed him. "No! No! Its okay, Michael. You don't have to stop. I just wanted to tell you something."

Searching her eyes he said, "What, Teddy?"

"I'm still a virgin, Michael."

Yes, Theodora thought, money could buy anything these days. The thought was lost in their grunts and moans as she was penetrated for the first time, a second time, in the same bed. Her father's bed. Her father's face much more than a whimsical memory as their bodies quaked in climax.

Please be sure to take the time to vote and comment. I hope you're enjoying the story as much as I enjoyed writing it. Much more to come. BTW – This is a sequel to The Sentinel. 



The Entity Pt. 08



This is the story of love lost, love explored, and love found in a place least expected. It is also a mystery that involves power, money, greed, and lust. While not as graphic as most here at Literotica I hope you find it an entertaining read. I apologize for the state of the work. It still needs proofing. Please vote and comment. I just wanted to say thanks for making it this far.

JPMMURPHY 

Chapter 21

CNN – Still no news from the Richards camp. Democratic hopeful, Arthur Wright's position continues to be 'no comment' as he continues stumping for votes. This Saturday, Wright will be attending a technology demonstration at the Waverly Hills Clinic in Los Angeles. Where he's visiting is not as important as who he's visiting. Rumors early in his campaign claimed Theodora Elizabeth Miller, reclusive heiress of the Thomas Lee Miller fortune, some of the oldest money in the world, had bloated Wright's campaign coffers through illegal campaign contributions. Mrs. Miller's lawyer, Rudolph Bartholomew, has always claimed his client's innocence and was finally vindicated when a Federal court in Los Angeles threw the case out citing lack of evidence. 

*****

Pulling into the valet drop off at the Palace, Linda and Tammy both noted the large number of police cars. At the front desk, they were directed to suit 301 where they found the imperious manager standing in the hallway being humbled by an SFPD detective.

"So this guy, this Fred Johnston, asks for a recommendation for a tailor and you send one Allessandra Martinelli up to sorta take care of business."

The manager just nodded.

"Then she's in there," and he pointed at a room full of cops, technicians and the coroner, "for four days. You hear rumors of wild sexual romping that includes Miss Martinelli answering the door in the buff, and you didn't find that unusual?"

"At the time –

The detectives hand came up, "At that time, this time, any time! As the manager of one of the premier hotels in the world, you felt no need to check on the well being of Miss Martinelli?"

"You see, Detective –

"Don't give me that 'you see' bullshit! I do see! I would have seen long before Miss Martinelli disappeared and a virtual bloodbath was discovered in the room. You can go now." Detective Pete Bronson dismissed the flustered manager with a wave of his hand and made a bee line for Linda.

"Hey, Woo! What brings you to the party?"

"Oh, you know, Pete, slumming."

"Right, that'll be the day. You hang out with us guys cause we get to have all the fun," glancing at Tammy, "Who's the Lucille Ball impersonator?" 

Pete Bronson was somewhat of an enigma to the California crowd. Born in Jersey, a stint in the Navy and he found himself discharged in San Diego. Wandering the coast with a few of his shipmates, he woke up one morning in an SFPD lockup after a rowdy night on the town, and was asked if he wanted coffee or cappuccino. Deciding that was just too weird, he decided to apply. Twenty years later his claim to fame was the highest solve rate in the state. Built like a balding fireplug, the guys called him asshole. All the ladies called him bull. He preferred the ladder.

Tammy turned red, Linda wasn't sure if it was from embarrassment or anger. "This is Tammy Spalding. She's helping me with a case. Tammy, this is Pete 'Knucklehead' Bronson. Don't take him seriously, no one else does."

Tammy stuck her hand out and said, "So does the Danny DeVitto impersonation go over big with fans?"

"Oh, a wise guy. I like that. Nice to meet you, Red."

"So what have we got, Pete?"

"A twenty six year old, black female. Body found by maid service after noon today because there was a 'Do Not Disturb' on the door and the phone."

"Where'd they find the body," they followed Pete into the suit stepping gingerly over blood stains.

"Well, that's the interesting part. They found her in the bathroom." Pete waited.

"What's so interesting about that?"

"It seems they also found her under the bed, in the closet, on the couch, on the balcony and in the trash can."

Tammy glanced around nervously and Linda became serious, "Dismembered?"

She noted that Tammy paled and brought her fingers to her mouth.

"Yes. Not sure what with yet but we found her mouth taped shut. And something new for me. We found strips of material tied real tight around the upper extremities of each of her limbs. Kind of like a tourniquet. We think whoever did this, may have kept her alive until her head came off."

With that Tammy lunged for the door, palm pressed against her mouth, gagging. Linda took note but continued talking with Pete.

"Who's your suspect?"

"One Mr. Fred Johnston. Checked in using a bag of cash. Literally. Paid a week in advance, enough to buy a couple of economy cars then spread the cash around hiring a string quartet one night and a French chef. His first day he hired the services of a tailor. Turns out the tailor was a female. But stranger still, the tailor, or seamstress, or whatever she'd be, was seen over the next three days, parading around stark naked here in the suit. The bellboys started fighting over who got to take their meals up. Shit like that. That would be one Allessandra Martinelli."

Tammy returned and took up post beside Linda.

"And no sign of Miss Martinelli among the body parts?"

Tammy wretched again and headed for the door. They both paused to watch her retreat.

"Not even a finger. And we did find a lot of fingers. Eight fingers, two thumbs and ten toes. They were in that wooden box over there. Looks like Miss Martinelli's work kit."

"Any idea who our Mr. Johnston might be?"

"Well, I can assure you he isn't Mr. Johnston."

Linda took a closer look at the room taking in the deep red circles of blood that could be found almost everywhere. Knowing that a dead body doesn't bleed much she cringed thinking about what the victim had gone through.

She noticed Tammy, jaw set, making her way back into the suit.

"Come on, Pete, that's not like you. No idea at all?"

"We got a couple of snaps from the lobby security cameras. He was seen by several hotel employee's and the parking booth girl confirmed that he drove the vic's car from the hotel that night. Said there was a striking woman in the passenger seat, dressed for a ball or something. Also said it looked like she'd been crying."

"You have those snaps, Pete?"

"Sure," he said handing three black and white photos to Linda.

Linda spread them like playing cards and held them up for Tammy. "Is that our man?"

Tammy looked, then looked distraught, then looked frightened. Her hand came to her mouth again and she managed to yell "Yes!" over her shoulder as she ran through the door for a third time.

"You found Robert Nunn Pete. He's wanted by the FBI. Some swindle or fraud deal."

Pete looked around the room and said, "I think our white collar guy has gone blue collar. This was a lotta damn work. Thanks, Woo. Is your friend gonna be okay?"

"Sure, Pete. She just needs something to eat."

They both chuckled at the joke and Linda headed out looking for Tammy. When she saw her standing by the elevator, one elbow resting on an arm across her chest, hand raised and her fingers snapping nervously, she knew she was in trouble.

"Tammy," Linda walked up and touched Tammy's elbow.

Tammy just stared at the floor, the fingers on her raised hand snapping nervously. "Sweetie. It's me. Linda."

Her look was dazed but finally focused. "He – he – he – dd did that. He – he cut her up. Alive!"

Linda ran her arm around Tammy's shoulder and pulled her close. "Its okay, Tammy. It's going to be okay."

Tammy shoved hard, broke free and started yelling, "Like hell it is! This guy's crazy and he's looking for me!"

"Tammy! Really. It'll be okay. I'll take care of you."

The policeman at the door to the suit looked on, not sure if he was needed.

Linda pulled Tammy close and hugged her, running her flat palms across her back. "Really, Tammy. It's okay. We're going to be okay."

The ding of the elevator arriving made Tammy jump and she suddenly realized where she was. Pushing away, she jumped in the car and waited. "Are you coming?"

In the Jag it got worse as Tammy's rants turned to blubbering. Almost to the point of incoherence, Linda was sure Tammy was going into shock. Flipping her phone open, she called Doctor Bledsoe and asked if she could swing by. "Right, Doc, it's kind of an emergency, and I'm just a few blocks away."

The Doctor gave Tammy a shot of some very strong sedative. "She has to rest and stay calm. I think the worse passed before you got here, but you need to let her get some sleep. Give her one of these every four hours and call me in the morning." The Doctor shoved a sample box of some sedative into Linda's hand.

At Linda's apartment building, Tammy leaned like a drunk on Linda's shoulder as they negotiated the stairs. 

"Right, Sweetie, I'm gonna take care of you." When Tammy said Sweetie, it dripped with sarcasm.

Linda stopped on the third landing and leaned Tammy against the wall. A hand planted on the wall on each side of Tammy keeping her from falling and she spoke softly, "Tammy."

Tammy continued to babble incoherently like a drunk.

Leaning closer, locking her eyes on Tammy, Linda whispered, "Tammy."

The babbling stopped and Tammy's eyes locked on Linda's. "What?" She sounded belligerent.

Linda leaned closer, her lips brushing Tammy's as she spoke, "I can't let anything happen to you, Tammy," pressing her lips against Tammy's they kissed until Linda pulled back to continue, "We still have to have that talk."

Linda pressed her lips to Tammy's once more.

"Yes! We do," Tammy whispered her voice urgent. "And I know he won't get me. And I know I'll be alright. It's just that, well, what am I doing here? We solved the big mystery. The Entity is Michael. I can go home now," Tammy stopped and stared at Linda before continuing, "But I don't want to. Well, yes, I want to go home, but then I have to leave and you have to stay. It's all a big mess!"

"I promise, Tammy, it will all work out."

Practically falling through the door, Tammy fading fast, Linda propped her on the couch and said, "I'll be right back. Let me park the car."

When Linda returned the only thing she found was a note on the couch where Tammy had been sitting.

Dear Linda,

You have three days. You had your fun with Tammy. Now I want to have mine. After that, all bets are off. The clock is ticking.

Fred Johnston

Linda crumpled the piece of paper angrily yelling through her tears, "You're a dead man, Asshole!"

*****

Michael stirred, opening an eye. At first he thought something was wrong. The only thing he could see was the color red. Then he realized where he was and, more importantly, what they'd done. Raising his hand he gently moved Teddy's hair out of his face.

He could see the slow pulsing of her carotid artery along her slender neck. Her breathing was slow, her warm breaths teasing the hair on his chest.

His first complete thought was betrayal. Linda tugged at his heart even as his hand came up and splayed across Teddy's bottom.

His next complete thought was confusion. Not as a state of mind. More importantly, as a state of being. He'd never felt so lost and confused in his life. In the back of his mind he played the 'what if' game. What if Mrs. Miller hadn't saved me? What if we had stayed and watched the sunset? What if Teddy weren't so beautiful and vulnerable?

Teddy shifted and he felt her knee slide over his thighs as she straddled him. Glancing down, he saw she was still asleep.

Why didn't you come, Linda? Why didn't you find me? Save me? At some level he felt betrayed. At the same time, he knew she had no way of knowing. He'd been buried. She'd seen that. Why would she keep looking?

Teddy moaned and her lips smacked as she continued to snooze. And you, thought Michael, why are you so beautiful? Why do you care so much for me? One of your grandmother's experiments?

"I could lie here forever," Teddy said dreamily.

"That might make it a little hard to entertain guests this Saturday."

Teddy raised her head, hair mussed across her face, and peaked out between her locks, "That old goat? He'll come when I tell him to."

Michael laughed when she started purring like a kitten, her hand snaking between their bodies, "Look what I found!"

"We have to eat sometime, Teddy."

"Not until the beast has been slain my dark Knight," she was peeking through her hair again, a crooked smile on her face.

Michael put Linda away and wrapped his arms around Teddy. "You must think I'm a plaything or something," he laughed.

Teddy brought both hands up, splayed them on his chest and pushed up, staring into Michael's eyes. "No. Never! You will never feel obliged to me. No matter what my grandmother's miracle science did to save you. And I'm not kidding, Michael!"

"Alright! Stop! It was just a joke!"

Teddy settled back onto Michael and slid her body until she was aligned perfectly. Scooting down a little she watched Michael's face as he started to penetrate her.

"If you're here. It's because you want to be. I would have it no other way."

With that, Teddy scooted down his body until she could scoot no more. Michael's agonized mask of ecstasy said it all but his whispered word said so much more.

Bringing his arms up, he pulled her body hard into his while he rotated his hips.

"Yes," he whispered with each thrust.







Chapter 22

Fox News – Democratic presidential hopeful, Arthur Wright, finally spoke out about his opponent's recent campaign woes. 'I feel what this country wants is integrity. I personally don't care what Senator Richard's sexual preference happens to be. But I do care if he fails to live up to them.' Expert's feel Wright was able to draw support from the gay community, and at the same time, keep the moral high ground as Richard's numbers took another hit.

*****

The first thing Tammy noticed was music. Her eyes opened but didn't seem to focus and she wondered why Linda had the music up so loud.

Carmen, she thought. The opera.

Turning her head to one side, she could make out what appeared to be candle light, her vision still blurry. Her body flushed as she recalled what she'd said on the landing to Linda.

Then she could smell food. Italian, she thought. Suddenly she felt hungry. Smiling she moved to swing her feet off the bed and was confused when they wouldn't move. Pushing down with her elbows, she was even more confused when something pulled at her neck. Panic coursed through her and she yelled, "Linda! I need help!"

"Now, now, Dear. Just lay back. You'll be fine."

Tammy froze. She knew that voice. What's that voice doing in Linda's bedroom?

"I'm cooking us a meal. You must be starved."

Scanner Bob's face jumped into focus as he leaned in to speak.

"We're celebrating this evening. I've made a wonderful meal!"

Tammy jerked her legs and realized they were bound somehow to the bed. Trying to do a sit up she nearly choked when a leather collar pulled tight around her throat. Raising a fist, she felt a small triumph when she realized it wasn't chained as well.

Bob easily ducked the swing and said, "My, my, aren't you the feisty one." He chuckled and Tammy was infuriated.

"You really must calm down, Tammy. You might hurt yourself. Besides, there's so much to do tonight! You'll need your strength."

Tammy suddenly realized she was naked. "What the hell have you done, Bob?"

Noting her gaze down the front of her body he was quick to reassure, "Nothing, Tammy. I just wanted you to be comfortable."

"I want my clothes back! Now!"

"Not to worry. I have a very nice dress for you to wear tonight." Pointing beside the bed, he added, "Besides, I had to cut your clothes off. I don't believe you could do much with them now."

Tammy started screaming as loud as she could, the shrill notes actually hurt Bob's ears.

Suddenly Bob's face was inches from Tammy's and his voice was low and menacing, "I haven't done anything to you, Tammy," pausing for effect, "But we can change that if you want."

Tammy's mouth snapped shut so hard Bob could hear her teeth clack together.

His voice continued to threaten as he brought his face closer to Tammy's and she could smell his breath, "I wouldn't be too worried about what's between my legs if I were you," one of his hands came up and brushed the inside of her thigh, "I'd be more worried about my legs if I were you."

With that Bob was gone, disappearing through the bedroom door. The shaking was uncontrollable as tears streamed down Tammy's cheeks. Small whimpers filled the air and she bit down on the edge of her hand between the thumb and forefinger to keep from yelling.

She searched her surroundings as kitchen sounds drifted back to the bedroom. A vaulted ceiling, tawny colored unfinished wood. Heavy pine furniture that projected a strong male presence.

Three doors and two windows. Bob had disappeared through one. The others must be a bathroom and closet, she thought.

A small writing table off to her left and she noticed the glow of a computer screen. Could be a way to communicate, she decided.

Suddenly Bob appeared. "Time to get ready," his voice cheery as if they were getting ready to go out on a date for the evening.

She could barely see the top of his head bobbing around at the foot of the bed. "Now. You mustn't move until I undo your neck. You wouldn't want to hurt yourself," his voice dripping with sarcastic concern.

Tammy pulled her legs up slightly and was relieved to discover her restraints had been removed. She watched as Bob walked to the head of the bed, picking something up from the writing table.

"Now, Tammy, I'm going to undo the chain. You mustn't try anything because if you do, I'll use this." A small handgun appeared and made an ominous clicking sound as Bob pulled the hammer back.

Tammy escaped into her childhood and played statue while Bob fumbled with something under the bed. Straightening, he waved her off the bed with the gun.

"I think you should take a shower. You'll feel much better. Go on," the gun indicated the door on the left and Tammy turned the knob.

Inside she found a bathroom stripped of all indication that someone actually used it. On the toilet seat was a washcloth, a new bar of soap on top and a solitary towel hung on a towel rack beside the shower door.

"There's some shampoo in the shower. Unfortunately, I had to take everything else out. I don't want you hurting yourself. I'll be right here at the computer. Just leave the door open and I'll get your clothes when you finish."

Turning on the water, Tammy stepped back to the mirror and was shocked to see a black leather dog collar around her neck. Looking sideways, she saw Bob was still watching, but reached up to turn the device and inspect it anyway. Then she found it. A small, but sturdy, lock that kept her from changing the size of the collar or removing it.

She glared at Bob and he just smiled. Taking her washcloth and soap she stepped into the shower and slid the door closed.

"Leave the door open so I can see you," Bob commanded.

She obediently slid the door open and turned her back to Bob as she luxuriated in the hot water and soapsuds.

"Very nice," Bob intoned, as if her move were designed to give him a better view. Turning back around, Tammy continued, ignoring the eyes that burned holes in her chest.

"I like this side too."

She didn't care. He was going to like anything she showed him. She rifled her thoughts, trying to find a starting point. This is just like computer logic, she thought. I need to get from point A, which is here, to point B, which is free. Her favorite college professor had always said, "The most important thing to do, Tammy, is define the problem. Then you lay out the steps and take them."




The Entity Pt. 08



Tammy didn't know why she didn't feel comforted by having defined the problem, but at least it was a start.

Glancing up she noticed Bob was gone. Where is he?

"I have a great dress for you, Tammy. I think you'll love it." His voice came from somewhere in the bedroom and she doubted she could get past him.

Point A to point B, she thought.

Then tears welled and she thought; where are you Linda?

*****

Snapping up the phone, Linda called the Captain. Hanging up, she called Pete Bronson.

"Right, Pete, less than fifteen minutes."

"I'm finishing up here. I'll be over in less than half an hour. Don't touch anything."

"One other thing, Pete."

"What's that?"

"You know we don't carry weapons-"

Pete didn't hesitate, "I'll be there in thirty minutes. I think we can take care of that."

Hanging up, Linda walked through the apartment. Starting with the front windows, she found them closed and locked as she always left them. Besides, she thought, I can't imagine anyone coming across a one foot ledge, five stories up, and not being seen.

The door into the small foyer that came from the landing didn't appear scratched or forced.

In the kitchen, it was the same. No jimmy marks or splintered wood.

Next she went to her bedroom to find clothes strewn on the bed. She found drawers open on her dresser, the contents on the floor. Her writing desk had been rifled and it was hard to tell if anything was missing.

All the clothing in her closet was pulled from the hangers and dumped on top of her shoes.

Glancing around nervously, she decided the killer had gotten what he wanted and was no longer hiding. Checking the windows she found them down and locked also.

That left the guest room. Tammy's room. Standing in the middle of the room everything looked normal. Nothing out of place. Checking the windows, both were closed and locked. Her flower pots on the black iron fire escape outside were undisturbed. Circling the room she finally realized the shopping bags were gone. 

Opening the closet, she found all the clothes Tammy had purchased missing from the closet.

Finding nothing else, she wandered back to the living room to wait for Pete.

*****

Tammy looked around the huge room. She sat at one end of a heavy pine dining room table with a white linen table cloth, a place setting of fine china laid out before her. A wine glass and water glass arranged at the top of the china plate. A silk flower centerpiece sat in the middle of the table.

She'd noticed a matching setting at the other extreme of table when Bob marched her in at gun point, her long golden gown shimmering in the candle light.

The vaulted ceiling disappeared in darkness, the candle light too soft to penetrate that high. She glanced furtively at the rack of tools standing beside the fireplace at the other end of the room.

Bob had pointed out that he knew exactly how much silverware was on the table, a dip of his gun emphasizing the point.

Tammy pulled at the gold and ruby pendant that clipped her hair back on one side. Maybe I can do something with the clasp of the pendant if I get close enough, she thought.

She stuck a foot out and inspected the chain that surrounded her ankle, locked tight, and too small to slip over her foot. The other end wrapped around one of the heavy legs of the table. She tried again to lift the piece of furniture and gave up when it failed to move.

Maybe I can pick the lock. But that only works in the movies; her frustration level went up a notch.

Bob had said he'd be right back and Tammy cringed when she heard the sound of another chain being drug across wood.

"That's a good girl. Come on. Come to papa!"

A dog? Why would he have a dog? Suddenly, Tammy's hand started to shake as she took a sip of water, waiting for Bob to appear.

"That's right. I'm going to introduce you to my friend."

The chain continued to drag and Bob finally appeared, gun in one hand, his other pulling a chain.

"Come on! You're almost there. That's a good girl!"

Tammy's mouth fell open and her chest tightened when she saw a woman crawl into view, a long mane of black hair askew, wild and hanging, hiding her face. The chain Bob was holding disappeared into the black tangled mess.

Bob looked at Tammy with a goofy grin and announced, "Look what I got for you, Dear!"

Tammy sat frozen, her water glass stuck halfway between her mouth and the table. The water rippled slightly from her quaking hand.

Bob continued talking as he pulled the chain, the woman following. Stopping at the opposite end of the table he wrapped the end around one of the heavy pine legs, fastening it with a lock just like hers. "I found her at the pound a few days ago. A fine bitch! And I thought of you, dear." To Bob, it was plane as the nose on his face. What a wonderful gift for Tammy. 

"Isn't she beautiful, dear?"

Tammy stared across the candle lit table in defiance as her water glass continued to tremble.

Looking at his feet, an expression of sad resignation on his face Bob said, "Oh no. Mommy may not like you. And I can't take you back." Reaching down, his hand made a patting motion along Allessandra's back and the gun pressed firmly into her black hair. "I guess I better put you to sleep."

"She's wonderful, dear! I love her!"

Tammy sat the water glass on the growing wet spot she'd made and beamed a tight smile toward Bob.

Petting Allessandra again, his hand running back along her naked hips he cooed, "Its okay, girl, Mommy wants to keep you. Now go say hello to mommy. Just like I told you."

Bob took a seat, the gun on the table beside his knife and waited with an expectant grin.

Tammy watched as the dark form, breasts swaying pendulously, crawled slowly beside the table in her direction. The sound of the chain on the wooden floor followed. Stopping at Tammy's knees a dark hand shook as it came off the floor and rested on her thigh.

Tammy was shocked when she realized the dark color of the woman's skin was dirt. She was filthy.

Tammy looked at Bob, trying to gage his current state and looked back at the woman. Her matted hair shifted and fell to one side as her face came up. Tammy detected a foul smell as the woman's tongue came out and wagged around.

Jerking her gaze back to Bob she heard him say, "The doggie just wants to lick your hand, dear. Put your hand down."

Tammy's hand trembled as she brought it down in front of the woman. She cringed when the wet protrusion ran across the back of her hand.

"Now lay down, girl! Lay down at mommy's feet!"

Tammy's chest was so tight she was afraid she'd pass out. She was more afraid of what might happen if she did and fought to take a deep breath as the dirt covered woman rolled onto her side and curled into a fetal ball at her feet.

Bob was beaming. "Now we can eat!"

*****

Teddy sat once again at the meeting room table. Rudolph sat across from her and the Doctor to her left.

"Are we all set for this Saturday?"

"Yes, Theodora. The software has been tested and everything is ready."

"Tell me again how the demonstration will go."

Rudolph shuffled some papers and explained, "We're selling it as a dream inducer. We have the new halo design that looks like a pair of futuristic headphones, padded and very comfortable. Governor Wright will be invited to recline on one of our special 'dream couches' and the halo will be put in place."

The Doctor cut in, "Recent changes made by Beth, my assistant, have improved the scan procedure. We've eliminated physical front to the physical back of the brain, and now its thought linier. That means most recent thought, running backwards through a person's every conscious moment, all the way to inception. It follows the chain, so to speak. Much faster.

"That coupled with the twin Cray's finally ready in the basement, and we should be able to completely scan Senator Wright's mind in less than half an hour. The use of small desktop computers has been eliminated completely.

"We've also added an override feedback loop that will keep him occupied. During the first 15 seconds of scan we'll find the Senator's most active thought, elaborate on it with our TIM software and make a small movie that will keep him very entertained."

Teddy's mind wandered as the Doctor continued with the logistics and statistics of the process.

She could feel Michael's hands as they roamed her body. The hunger in his eyes mirroring a look she'd seen so many years before.

The timber of his voice as he moaned and cooed. That same brusque attention to her needs. Her body's response at the meeting was annoying and she put thoughts of her father, waiting in her bed, away.

"Very good, gentlemen. It sounds like we're all set."

After another hour of discussion, some of it heated, Teddy dismissed them with a wave and started back to her apartment, the walker lighter with each push.





Chapter 23

CNN – While Kerry Richard's, republican presidential hopeful, continues to campaign, the Republican Party seems to be ready to pull their support and attempt putting a new name in the hat as an independent. An unusual move, they feel they'd have a better chance placing a last minute independent in the white house, than Richard's has as their candidate. The Democratic Party has cried fowl and taken action in the Supreme Court to block the move. Richard's numbers continue to fall.

*****

The meal was finally over. Tammy sat on the bed in her gold evening gown, her feet and hands free but the other end of her pet's chain locked tightly around her neck.

Bob was in the bathroom, the door open, the sound of running water could be heard as he relieved himself.

He'd become more expansive as the meal progressed. A simple salad of cut up lettuce and dressing from a bottle. The pasta was overcooked, the sauce from a jar was burnt. The grated cheese from a green, cardboard container was bland and stale.

Tammy decided that, whatever Bob was, he wasn't a chef.

Wine had been poured and consumption insured with an occasional waving of the gun, the hammer still cocked back. Tammy became concerned as he became more inebriated, the pistol waving wider, wildly in her general direction.

The woman, her mascot, was served in a pair of stainless steel pet bowls. One with red wine and the other heaped with soggy spaghetti.

Tammy had managed to take some bites and watched with no expression as the woman lowered her head into the bowl of pasta and slurped noisily as she ate the entire serving without the aid of her hands.

Bob thought that was wonderful and staggered to their end of the table to watch as the woman licked the bowl clean. "Very good! You're a very good, Bitch!"

Bob looked at Tammy as if saying 'you will be also' and staggered back to his end of the table.

More wine and wild gesturing and Bob finally herded them back to the bedroom she woke up in.

Glancing over the edge of the bed at the woman on her hands and knees, she could hear Bob relieving himself.

"Now," Bob said as he zipped his pants and staggered back into the bedroom. "Now we're going to have fun." His voice slurred and he swayed at the foot of the bed.

"What do you think, Tammy? Wanna play with your doggie?" Bob practically fell over as he roared with laughter at his own joke.

Tammy scooted back against the head of the bed and cringed.

Like most drunks Bob's concept of time faulted and he stood for almost twenty seconds, forefinger up in exclamation, wavering as he swayed, before he finally continued.

Struggling with his pants pocket he finally managed to extract his gun and waved it wildly between the two of them as he struggled to pull the hammer back.

Tammy glanced at the floor and saw the woman was very attentive to Bob's wild gesturing.

"I said," Bob spit as he yelled wildly, "Are you ready to play with your doggie?"

Tammy knew she had no choice. She didn't know what Bob meant by play, but she had to respond quickly or Bob was going to shoot one of them, and he'd probably just leave them there, chained together.

"But, dear," Tammy's voice shook, "We don't want the dog in the bed. She's dirty, dear."

Bob's face went slack. A drunk faced with a conundrum. Looking from Tammy to Allessandra, back to Tammy and back to Allessandra, he finally responded, as many drunks do, completely contrary to what Tammy feared would be said.

"You're right!"

Tammy whimpered and scooted as far to the other side of the bed as she could when Bob staggered toward the woman, struggling to shove the cocked gun into his pants pocket.

Digging in his other pocked he produced a small key chain with several identical keys on it.

His body threatened to tumble forward as he leaned over the woman, digging in her hair and finally found the lock that held the chain in place.

His hand stabbing wildly, he managed to insert the key and open the lock.

"Come on, Bitch! Time to take a bath!" Bob slapped his thigh and pointed at the shower. The woman stayed frozen on her hands and knees. Her head turning slowly toward Tammy. 

Tammy understood the message and nodded slightly.

Tammy could tell the woman was ready to jump. Bob was too drunk, and they could both probably take him.

The woman's eyes grew large, Tammy looked toward Bob and saw the barrel of the cocked gun a foot from the woman's head, wavering but pointed purposefully, his finger on the trigger.

"Be a good doggie," Bob said. His voice low but still cheerful, talking to his dog.

A look of resignation cloaked her face and the woman turned and started crawling toward the bathroom.

Bob looked at Tammy, his smile evil and lecherous, "Then we'll clean the, Bitch, up! Then you can play with your doggie!"

Tammy sat, huddled in the corner of the bed, afraid to move. Afraid to rattle the chain as Scanner Bob sat at the foot of the bed. His gaze steady, the gun lax in his hand as they both heard the water come on in the shower.

*****

Exhausted from the constant tension of cowering and trying to keep Bob at bay, Tammy watched with disgust as the woman crawled back into the room, stopping at the foot of the bed so Bob could attach her chain once more.

Bob seemed to have sobered some and moved to a chair in the corner of the room.

Tammy could see the woman was exhausted as well, the skin around her eyes black circles. Her skin, although clean, displayed dark bruises along her hips and thighs. She cringed thinking what they might have come from.

"That's a good doggie." Scanner Bob said. His voice didn't slur as much as it had half an hour before. Tammy decided to try something.

"Honey?"

Bob was genuinely surprised when Tammy spoke. Beaming he answered, "Yes, dear?"

"I really want to play with the doggie, but I want some more wine. Do we have any?"

"Sure, we do!"

Standing over the woman, Bob admonished, "Stay! Stay, Bitch," and his head rotated to Tammy and he added, "And I mean it." The gun waved one last time and Bob retreated to the kitchen.

"Who are you?" Tammy jumped, suddenly realizing the woman was talking. The first words she'd spoken all evening.

"Tammy Spalding. Bob used to be my boss," Tammy whispered back.

"Can we get out of here?"

"I don't know."

A clink of glass and they both watched the door. Bob sat two glasses on the dresser, the gun beside them, and used a corkscrew to take the cork from the bottle. Pouring some wine in each, he picked up the gun and carried Tammy her glass of wine, small ripples spread out across the dark liquid from her trembling hand. "Here you are, dear."

Tammy accepted the glass and watched as Bob took up station in his chair again, gun in one hand, wine glass in the other.

Tammy raised her glass to get Bob started, took a small sip and set the glass on the nightstand.

"Well, I guess things might be more fun if I explain." Bob became expansive as he sipped his wine and slid down a little in the chair getting comfortable.

"We're going to put on a little show. Not tonight. I gave your girlfriend three days," Bob paused for effect and wasn't disappointed when Tammy's face belied her surprise.

"Yes, Tammy, dear, Miss Woo of the ICB. Your secret girlfriend. I saw you two in that snazzy little sports car. I guess that explains some things." Bob barked out a laugh and downed his wine.

Tammy cringed. Inside Bob blamed her for something that happened and planned to humiliate her as much as he possibly could.

Bob stood and refilled his wineglass. "I don't think you should play with the dog with your dress on, dear."

When Tammy didn't respond he stepped to the edge of the bed and leaned into her face, the gun barrel pressed into her stomach. "Do you, dear?"

Tammy quickly reached to the back of her neck and found the clasp. Scooting off the bed she stood and let the dress puddle at her feet.

"Much better. You know, Tammy, I always wondered if you were a natural redhead. I guess I know now," and he laughed, taking a big drink of his wine.

"Oh. Back to the plan. You always liked plans at work, Tammy. You always liked to spend half an hour in the morning, sitting at your desk, right where I could see you from my office, and plan out your day."

Tammy scooted back on the bed, disgusted, thinking about Bob watching her at her desk. Back against the headboard, she brought her knees up and crossed her ankles, effectively blocking the more scintillating part of Bob's view. He didn't seem to care. He was too happy with his plan as he walked to the dresser, gun in one hand, wineglass in the other, carrying the bottle back to his chair.

"On to the plan. So, it seems there's a bunch of very bad people in the world. Can you imagine that, Tammy?"

Bob was on a roll and didn't seem to care if Tammy responded. "Some friends of mine introduced me to them. They have some very strange tastes, Tammy. Very strange," Bob's eye's had become wild and the gun was waving again. Tammy knew he hadn't had enough wine yet. She decided he was recalling the friends with strange tastes.

"These people will pay for anything," Bob's voice was flattening out, his wild eyes settling into an even stare somewhere beyond Tammy. "These are very rich people. They have strange tastes but they'll pay for it. No problem there. They pay very nicely."

Bob refilled his glass and took a sailor's swig as he gulped half of it down, the back of his hand coming up to wipe across his mouth. Then he just sat, staring at the wall.

Tammy chanced glancing at the woman and saw she was looking back. She mouthed, "What?" Tammy shook her head slightly indicating she didn't know.

Bob's voice was low, gravely, and he sounded like a kid that was tired of arguing his side of the story. "People do anything for money. No matter what. You just throw some bills on the table and people will do whatever you want."

Bob stopped again, still staring beyond the wall above Tammy's head, twin tears rolling down his cheeks.

Both women waited, holding their breath, to see what would happen next.

The ticking of a clock somewhere down the hall marked the silence as Bob watched some personal nightmare play out.

Tammy nearly rolled off the edge of the bed when Bob jumped up and walked to the woman. No happy doggie talk this time. "Get on the bed, Bitch!"

The woman moved as quickly as her stiff limbs would allow and crawled up beside Tammy, turning to watch Bob.

"Get under the covers! Both of you!"

Both women started tearing at the edge of the cover to pull it back. Sliding between the sheets, they waited.

Bob walked to Tammy's side of the bed and unlocked her chain. Holding the cocked gun up, he walked to the other side and unlocked the woman's. Digging between the mattress and the headboard he pulled up another chain. Locking it around the woman's neck, he moved quickly to Tammy's side where he repeated the process.




The Entity Pt. 08



Tammy noted he was actually crying by the time he'd finished. "You two go to sleep. I don't want to hear a thing out of this room. Not a sound!" And he waved the gun menacingly.

Walking to the small writing table, he slammed the laptop shut and tucked it under his arm.

"People will make you do anything!" Breaking down into sobs, Bob slammed the door shut and left them both in darkness.

"What do we do?" was whispered from the woman's side of the bed.

"We get the hell out of here," Tammy whispered back.

"How? Do you know how?"

Running through the very short list of things they did know, Tammy finally whispered, "Not yet."

Please be sure to take the time to vote and comment. I hope you're enjoying the story as much as I enjoyed writing it. Much more to come. BTW – This is a sequel to The Sentinel. 



The Entity Pt. 09



This is the story of love lost, love explored, and love found in a place least expected. It is also a mystery that involves power, money, greed, and lust. While not as graphic as most here at Literotica I hope you find it an entertaining read. I apologize for the state of the work. It still needs proofing. Please vote and comment. 

JPMMURPHY 



Chapter 24

Fox News – Some people are asking why an election is even being considered. The democratic hopeful, Arthur Wright, no longer appears to be a hopeful. Some republican's have already ceded the upcoming election and feel campaign funds and energy could be better spent preparing for the next election. 

Teddy rolled on her back and stretched luxuriantly. She reveled in the feel of her new body. The smooth skin, her beautiful red hair, and how it all made her feel.

Slipping from between the sheets, she left Michael sleeping and wobbled to the bathroom. She felt stronger than the previous day. Probably from all the exercise, she thought with a crooked smile. But she knew that once her day got started, she'd need her walker, or at least a cane.

Sitting on the edge of her bath, she drew some hot water and slid in to soak.

"A penny for your thoughts."

Michael's probe startled her. "Michael! Come join me."

"In a minute. I wanted to see what you'd like for breakfast. The nurse is here and said we actually get to order today. Anything we want." His lopsided grin told Teddy how great the prospect of real food was.

"Two poached, three strips of bacon and juice. And, Michael."

"Yes?"

"Put a robe on." They both laughed.

*****

Tammy woke when her chain pulled tight causing her to choke. She could feel Allessandra's arm lying over her stomach and noted the woman was sound asleep.

They'd laid awake, whispering, trying to come up with a plan and exchanging information. Tammy knew Allessandra was the woman from the hotel that detective Bronson was looking for.

Giving Bob time to fall asleep they'd tested the chain and found it was looped several times around the bed frame, leaving each barely enough chain to lie back without choking. Shoulder to shoulder, they'd finally fallen asleep.

She could hear kitchen noises and knew that Bob was awake, in the kitchen, probably having breakfast. Glancing around the room in the soft light that filtered around the heavy curtains, she found no phone.

Sliding the drawer on the nightstand on her side of the bed open, she couldn't see inside, but her hand played around and she knew it was empty. Allessandra's too, she thought.

The door she suspected was a walk-in closet; was closed. Suddenly she had an urge to pee and wished Bob would show up. She thought about yelling but decided that might set him off.

Nudging Allessandra, she waited until her eyes opened and whispered, "Just do whatever he wants. I will too. Linda will come soon."

Before she could explain who Linda was, the door burst open and Bob strode in carrying Allessandra's dog dish and a plate.

"And how's my little doggie this morning?"

Bob seemed cheery again, speaking his happy doggy speak for Allessandra.

Setting the bowl on the floor beside the bed, Bob threw the set of keys between them and reached in his pocked to pull the gun out. "Now be a good little doggie and come to, papa."

Allessandra pulled an arm out from under the covers and fumbled with the keys until she found the one that opened her chain. Rubbing her neck, she looked at Bob before throwing the keys back. Pushing the covers back, she got on her hands and knees and crawled off the bed. "What a good doggie! Isn't she a good doggie, dear?"

Tammy's voice croaked as she answered, "Y yes, dear. She's a good doggie."

"Here's your food. Come on and eat." Bob slapped his thigh and pointed down at the bowl. Allessandra crawled over and found scrambled eggs. Lowering her head she started to eat.

"And you, dear. Look! I've brought you breakfast in bed."

Bob set a plate with scrambled eggs and a slice of toast on the bedspread beside Tammy. "Eat up, dear. We have a lot to do today."

Tammy pushed up against the headboard, the covers falling away and reached for the plate, scraping the food off silently with her fingers. Taking the piece of toast, she tore it in half and called to Allessandra, "Here, pooch, do you want a piece of toast? Come on." She hated doing it but knew it was her only hope of sharing the bread with the woman. Allessandra crawled back on the bed and sat back on her haunches as Tammy tore the bread into pieces and placed them in the woman's mouth.

"What a good girl!" Bob was absolutely ecstatic.

Tammy took the moment to ask if they could have a bathroom break. "Why sure, dear." Looking down at Allessandra he held up his forefinger and put on a stern face, the pistol hung loosely in his other hand. "Stay. Stay, you bitch!"

Throwing the keys on the bed he watched as Tammy fumbled with her lock, the chain finally falling on the pillows. Realizing his vulnerability, Bob cocked the gun and stepped back to the doorway.

"You know where it is, dear. Go ahead."

Finishing, Tammy walked back into the bedroom to find Allessandra with a chain around her neck, Bob holding the other end.

"Come on, dear, we need to take the dog out."

When realization hit, Tammy tried to figure out how to stop it from happening. "But, dear, isn't our doggie house broke?"

"But you know how much doggie likes to go outside, dear."

Resigned, Tammy looked around for something to put on when Bob said, "You're fine, dear. Come on. Doggie needs to pee."

Tammy's blood boiled but she saw the handgun, cocked and ready, in Bob's hand and stepped past him into the hallway.

"Oh, and, dear. Be sure to stay close. You know how much trouble I have with doggie sometimes. I wouldn't want to have to shoot the bitch."

When Bob opened the sliding glass door off the dining room, Allessandra crawled out on the rough planking of the deck ahead of them. At the edge of the deck she stopped. Tammy stepped up and saw her predicament. Finally, fed up, she turned to Bob, cocked her hip, planted a hand and pointed a finger, "Look, Bob, this is getting ridiculous. The stairs are too steep. She can't get down them. Just let her go back in the house and use the bathroom inside. There's a perfectly good bathroom in there!"

She almost gagged when Bob shoved the barrel of the gun into the soft part of her cheek, "Shut the fuck up!" Bob's face was red, his cheek pressed against the handgun as he kept pressing it harder into her cheek. "I want our doggie to go outside," Bob started yelling, spittle landing on her face, "So this fucking bitch is going in the yard were all dogs go!"

Bob stopped yelling, his breathing ragged. 

Tammy finally nodded, the gun bobbing up and down with her head.

The gun was back down and Bob was back to his happy doggie talk, Allessandra, bottom up, trying to negotiate the stairs.

"See, dear. You just don't understand doggies like I do. You're so silly sometimes."

Tammy nodded in agreement, a silly grin on her face. 

*****

Linda had slept little. Sitting on the edge of her bed she tried to find a plan of action. Something she could do that would help Tammy.

After Pete left she'd driven to the office. After two hours of moping around, repeatedly asking where the hell the Entity was, the Captain had ordered her home.

"You're not helping anyone, Woo. You're certainly not helping, Tammy. Go home and get some sleep. That's an order!"

She could have protested but she knew he was right. Sleep had finally come, sometime in the gray hours of early morning.

Now, wandering into the kitchen, she picked up her cell phone to see if any messages had arrived. Nothing. Searching the refrigerator she grabbed half a grapefruit and a yogurt.

Calling the office, she found Tom was still there.

"Nothing, Linda. Pete checked in twice during the night. They really have nothing to go on. Why don't you get your laptop out and maybe Michael will find you. I'm not sure what he can do, but there might be something.

Wandering back to her bedroom, Linda threw herself on her unmade bed and curled around a pillow. They'd found no entry point, no jimmy marks or broken windows. The neighbors had not seen or heard anything.

How the hell did you get in, thought Linda, as she took the handgun Pete had given her from her nightstand and shoved it under her pillow, closing her eyes to the nightmare that her life had become.

*****

"Now, what I need, dear, is a shot of you with your doggie."

Bob had given Tammy, the golden evening dress again, and the gold and ruby broach to go with it. She was thankful just to have some clothes to wear.

Now he stood with Sara's digital camera in one hand, the gun in the other and was talking to Allessandra.

"Come on! Up on the bed with, Mommy! That's a good girl."

Bob walked around the bed taking in the sight and finally decided he was safe. Sliding the handgun into his pants pocked, he stood at the foot of the bed giving direction.

"Okay, Tammy. Lean against the head of the bed and fold your legs in front of you."

"Why, Bob," Tammy's voice was dead and unemotional.

Bob paid no attention. "Okay, girl, when mommy finally remembers that if she doesn't do what I want, I'll shoot you, I want you to curl in front of her, your head on her lap." The happy doggie speak sounded out of place when wrapped around the threat.

Tammy stared, boring holes through, Bob, while repositioning herself as instructed. Allessandra complied immediately.

Bob snapped a few pictures and had Allessandra move some, her bare breasts obviously the focus of the picture.

"Okay, dear, now put your hand on doggies head and pet her."

Tammy did as told. "You have to smile, honey, like you're happy with your doggie."

Tammy thought about protesting again but abandoned the idea recalling the consequences it could carry for Allessandra.

"That's just great!" Bob was very happy with himself.

"Okay, doggie, off the bed. You know mommy doesn't like dog hair on the bedspread."

Allessandra pulled herself up on hands and knees again and crawled off the bed.

Bob threw the keys on the bed and waved with the gun indicating Tammy should free herself again. "Give me the dress, I don't want you getting it dirty."

Resigned, Tammy undid the clasp and stepped out of the evening gown, leaving it on the floor.

Bob waved Tammy toward Allessandra and said, "Undo our doggie, dear."

Her hands shook as she fumbled with the lock. Could this be it? Is that all he wanted? Was he going to shoot them both and leave their bodies to be discovered months from now?

"Very good. Now put this on," Bob threw another length of chain, the one used to bring Allessandra upstairs, on the bed and waved at it with the gun.

Tammy picked it up and locked one end on Allessandra's collar as it had been before.

"You too, dear. Just lock it to your collar."

Finished, she stood and looked at Bob, the weight of the chain pulling on her neck. It only heightened her need to throw up.

"Come on, bitch, you know where you belong!"

Bob was back to happy doggie talk again and Tammy followed Allessandra down the steep basement stairs, afraid she might tumble head first any second, killing them both.

She saw a wine rack with a few dusty bottles, a furnace and water heater. Bob nudged her to the left and she saw a wooden workbench. Nudging again she saw another door. Beyond that was darkness.

"What are you doing, Bob?" Tammy's voice trembled and her step faltered as Allessandra continued crawling toward the door, pulling the chain tight between them.

Bob just pressed the cold steel of the gun into her bare back and shoved.

Once in the dirt floor fruit cellar, Bob undid Allessandra's end of the chain and Tammy watched as he ran it behind an exposed pipe in the corner of the room. Walking back to Allessandra, he reconnected the chain, walked to the door and turned off the light.

Tammy watched as Bob closed the door without comment leaving them in total darkness.

Allessandra was already crying. 

*****

Linda jerked awake. She'd been dreaming, falling, almost hitting bottom, when some part of her decided she needed to get up. She moaned when she saw how late it was. Almost six in the evening. I've lost the entire day.

Wide awake, she listened. Sliding the gun out, she padded through the apartment looking in every room, checking the floor for broken glass below each window.

Finally deciding she was safe, she put the gun on the vanity in the bathroom and took a shower. Going over Tammy's disappearance, she decided she and Pete must have missed something. Toweling off, she got dressed and resolved to search for his entry point again.

Finally stopping in Tammy's room, she stood in front of the empty closet and stared at nothing in particular. Stepping in to pull the door shut, she noticed a very faint footprint of black soot. Looking up she saw it.

The small square of painted plywood in the ceiling of the closet that gave access to a small service area for the plumbing was shoved to one side just enough that it looked out of place. Getting a stool from the kitchen, she climbed up and stuck her head through the dark hole.

To the left she could see a drop off and pulled herself up further. Looking over the edge she saw pipes that ran off in the darkness. Plumbing for the two bathrooms. She slowly spun onto her back in the tight access and saw how Fred Johnston, actually, Bob Nunn had gained access.

She could see a faint glow, fading daylight, shining through a dingy skylight on the roof. A workers access for getting to the plumbing without getting in through the apartments.

"Damn!"

Sliding backwards through the ceiling access in her closet, a photograph laying in the dust and soot of the small crawl space caught her eye. Too clean to have been there long, she grabbed it and slid down into the closet. Inspecting the photo she saw a modern log cabin set in a wooded area. A large front yard, attached garage and a gravel driveway. Turning the photo over she found an address and directions explaining how to get there.

This must be it, she thought. Sarah was a realtor and this is where Bob took Tammy.

She slipped the small handgun into the top of her jeans in the small of her back, grabbed the keys to her apartment and ran down the stairs.

Heading out in her car across the bay, a light fog was rolling in and she was forced to moderate her speed. Still weaving around traffic, trying to read the directions as she rolled off the other side of the Golden Gate bridge, she failed to notice the SUV that was keeping pace, a quarter of a mile back.

Taking the indicated exit she sat at the top of the off ramp, engine idling, as she made sure she had the right road. Turning left, she pushed the Jag as hard as she dared on the narrow, county road.

Fifteen minutes and ten miles later she came to the sharp turn to the right indicated by the handwriting on the back of the photograph. She could smell the ocean and see a ship's lights reflected off the dark murky mat of water, off in the distance.

Negotiating the turn, she pushed ahead. The SUV was lost in the dark, headlights off, still keeping pace.

Finding a road to the left, she finally identified the 'old tractor' in a field, weeds high around the heavy iron wheels, and turned left. Turning her headlights off, she knew she was getting close.

Rolling slowly, she missed the lane and drove past before she could stop. Backing up she cursed the red glow of her brake lights as she stopped again and turned right.

The photo said two miles. Watching her odometer, she rolled to a stop at the one mile mark. Shutting off the engine, she eased out of her car and gently clicked the door shut. Walking along the lane, she found a path going into the woods that appeared to branch off to the other side of the house.

Taking the path, she finally came to an open grassy space, the log house about seventy feet away. Stooping behind a rotting log she hunkered down and reached for her cell phone. "Damn!"

Having left without it in her haste to find Tammy, she turned back to the house and watched. What now, she thought.

A snapping branch somewhere in the woods behind drew her attention away from the house. Trying to pierce the dark shadows she decided it was some wild animal and continued to study the layout.

The blow was hard and to the base of her skull. Linda fell in a heap and the big guy said, "You get the car and meet me at the road. The, Doctor, said to make it look like an accident. We can use that cliff back at the big turn."

Picking up Linda's prone form, he threw her over his shoulder in a fireman's carry and trudged off through the woods.

*****

Beth grunted as she shoved back against the Doctor.

"Tell me," she panted. "Tell me what a good little girl I am!"

The doctor ran his hands across the smooth skin of her hips and pulled her hard, impaling her again, "Yes, you're daddy's good little girl," he cooed.

Thirty minutes later, exhausted and covered in sweat, Beth rolled off the bed and padded to her bathroom. Passing her laptop on her way back to bed, she noted the Doctor's snores and decided it was time TIM came back to life.

Booting up her machine, she clicked the icon twice and watched as the complex system went through a self test and memory allocation process.

A sleeping face on her screen finally opened its eyes and came to life.

Loading a set of instructions, Beth pushed away from the table and crawled back between the sheets with the Doctor, curling up behind him.

*****

Tammy's bright red hair turned to flames and played across a black background. Her emerald eyes were smiling and her lips moved. Linda tried to understand but could only hear a pulsing rush in her ears.

Tammy's hand came up and pulled on her shoulder. Suddenly, the delicate touch was replaced by a rough pull as a meaty paw came into view.

"Let's see what you have in your pockets, sweetie."

She felt her body rolled over, someone digging in her pockets. Opening her eyes she saw a red faced man with no neck. His short brown hair looked greasy, sticking out at odd points from a bad haircut. His face was round and fat, his cheeks puffing and a flush radiated from his ears.

The probing became personal and Linda kicked, finding only air. "Get off me you asshole!"

"Oh. A feisty one. And cute too."

Pulling on her hands they didn't come up, bound by a length of cord behind her back. Wiggling she tried to move out from under the man. Her head rocked when the back of his hand came down across her face.

"Keep still! We still got things to do!"

Another form came into view at her feet. Short and skinny, a black shape in his hand was trained on her stomach. A gun, she thought. Her gun, she finally realized.

She saw the photograph of the log house float above her as the first man flipped it in his fingers and finally tucked it from view in his pocket.

She closed her eyes when his hands roamed her body. Ostensibly a search. In reality a chance to grope.

"Give me the gun and get that thing."

Taking the gun, the fat man stood over Linda, an evil smile played across his face, the gun lax but pointed.

"Put this on her head."

Linda tried struggling again and was rewarded with a kick to her side, "I said hold still!"

Something that looked like a fancy pair of headphones was slipped over her head. "Okay. You got a connection?"

"Give me a minute. We're out in the middle of nowhere."

Glancing along her body, Linda could see the other man bent over a shiny metal briefcase, adjusting something and typing on a keyboard.

"There! Now keep her still."

"You're gonna like this, sweetie," the gun still pointed.




The Entity Pt. 09



Suddenly, the two men and the dark night disappeared. A collage of images danced before her eyes and Linda lost all touch with reality as her mind was scanned, the small briefcase computer linked directly to the Cray's in the basement at Waverly Hills.

As quickly as it started, it ended.

"Sorry about that, we didn't have time to set up a nice show for you." The fat man still smiled but the gun was no longer pointed.

"Twenty eight minutes," said the other man as he put the fancy headset away and clicked the briefcase shut, "Not bad at all."

Linda had no sense of time but suspected she'd been out for the twenty eight minutes the man referred to. She also suspected her mind had just been scanned, just like Michael's.

She had to do something.

The fat man hooked one of his meat hooks into her upper arm and dragged her to her feet. "Now it's time to take a little ride," glancing to his left, over the cliff, his meaning clear to Linda.

Spinning her around, she felt her hands come free as the cord around her wrists was cut. One big paw holding her arm tightly, a voice whispered in her ear, "I still have my gun and so far, we've been pretty nice about everything. If you so much as blink sideways, we'll tie your hands back up and cut your clothes off. We know just what a sweet little thing like you needs."

Linda leaned away from his foul breath but didn't try to resist.

She searched the ground for a weapon. A limb or rock, something she could hit with. Finding nothing, she tried to gage just how nimble the big man might be. She heard the engine of her Jaguar start and saw the little man get out of the car leaving the door open. Picking up his briefcase, he headed for a dark colored SUV that was parked twenty feet up the road.

Linda waited. She knew the big man would try to push her towards the car. They were going to make her drive it off, or maybe push it off with the SUV.

The fat man turned slightly and yelled over his shoulder, "Bring the car up. Put it right behind her car. I'll give you the signal."

Linda took in the front of the Jag, the front bumper right at the edge of the cliff. Looking to her left, she decided she was three feet from the edge, the fat man another foot, to her right. Spreading her feet slightly, pressing the balls of her feet into the loose gravel, she waited.

"Too bad about your car. I really like it. Maybe I'll buy it from impound when they get tired of investigating. I'll fix it up and all. I don't like the color too much, though."

His grip loosened slightly as Linda stood completely still.

She could hear the other man maneuvering the SUV around and her green Jaguar was bathed in light as the bigger vehicle nudged up against its rear bumper.

"That's it, sweetie. Ya want a kiss bye bye or anything?"

Linda stepped forward quickly with her right foot, jerking her upper arm out of the fat man's grip. Planting her right foot firmly, she crouched low, leaned hard to her right, and did a rapid pirouette, her left foot raised, leg bent close to her body.

The man in the SUV froze, his jaw went slack when he saw Linda's left foot come around and kick out between the head and chest of his partner.

Snapping to action, he slammed the gear selector of the SUV to park and grabbed for the door handle. Before he could open the door, his partner fell hard, one hand coming up to grab between his head and chest, his gun hand slack, the handgun falling at his feet.

Linda sprang to her feet and started pushing on the fat man. His partner found the door handle but froze, just as his partner disappeared over the edge.

Pulling the gear selector back to drive, he punched the accelerator and was rewarded with the Jag rolling over the cliff. Standing on the brake, he watched the woman out his window as she searched for the abandoned gun.

Jerking the vehicle in reverse he backed up fifteen feet, stood on the brakes again and pulled the selector down to drive. Over reacting, he slammed the accelerator to the floor just as the woman brought the gun up, pointed at his side of the windshield.

Not enough time, Linda thought, just as the SUV closed on her. Four feet away and she was off balance, unable to spring to either side. Jumping up quickly, she flew over the hood and slammed against the windshield just before the SUV rolled over the edge.

As if in slow motion, she could make out the open faced expression of terror as the driver realized his mistake. Her shoulder and hip ached and she fought for consciousness. She managed to press against the hood of the vehicle as it tipped down, launching herself clear just before impact.

Her leg doubled up beneath her and the air was pushed from her lungs. Just before her world went black, she thought, I'm so sorry, Tammy. I didn't mean to hurt you. 

The cold dark water engulfed her.

*****

Michael found the two Cray X4's and from their network addresses knew they were in the building.

He assimilated the information as quickly as it came in and knew that Linda was in trouble.

He immediately sent e-mail and instant phone messages to Tom and the Captain.

Noting the hour, there was nothing further he could do but wait.

Tom read the message again and immediately turned his laptop on. Michael was there as soon as the operating system loaded.

'I don't know what happened, Tom. I haven't seen, Linda, and she was just scanned.'

'What do you mean scanned? How can she be scanned, she's at home?'

'I watched it come in. Her mind, just like mine, was uploaded to a hard drive. The storage unit has been taken off-line, but I know its here.'

'Let me call the, Captain. I'll look for you in a few minutes.'

*****

Tammy floated, not sure if she was awake or dreaming. It had to be a dream, she decided. How could all this be real? I'll wake in Linda's bed and we'll laugh about all this. She vaguely recalled crying in Linda's arms in the stairwell and resolved she wouldn't cry when she was retelling her dream.

The pull on her neck made her jump and she realized it wasn't a dream. That she wouldn't be waking up in Linda's bed and that she could cry all she wanted.

A horse whisper came out of the darkness, "Are you awake?"

Yes, she thought, unfortunately she was. Turning on her side in the direction of the voice she answered, "Are you okay?"

No answer came, just quiet breathing.

"How long have we been down here?"

"I don't know. I fell asleep and when I woke up, I could hear you breathing. I decided you were asleep."

Tammy pulled on the chain and listened to the links slide across the pipe, until Allessandra said, "That's it. You've pulled it tight."

Sitting up she became aware of the dirt floor. Reaching out, she felt around in the dark until she found Allessandra.

"Is there any water?"

"He hasn't brought my bowl back, so I guess not," with that, Allessandra started sobbing softly.

Tammy scooted on her knees until she could wrap her arms around Allessandra's shoulders. "Shhh. It's going to be okay. My friend will find us."

Cradling Allessandra's head she wondered if she'd just told a lie.





Chapter 25

BBC – In world news today, our cousins across the pond seem to be gearing up for the biggest foregone conclusion in election history. It seems the republican candidate has finally come out of the closet so to speak, and admitted having a long affair with one of his male office aids, but denied any involvement in the subsequent death, reportedly a suicide, of the young man...

*****

The first thing Linda became aware of was pain. Her entire body throbbed. Then she felt wet. Opening her eyes, the glare of the sun blinded her but she was able to make out a mixture of rocks and sand. Green tufts of seaweed strewn about.

I'm alive, was her first coherent thought.

Then it all came flooding back. Pushing up with her arms she was able to look around. No sign of the SUV but her green Jag lay several feet away, a crumpled mess at the bottom of the cliff. She managed to smile when she saw the fat man's broken body beside it.

How long have I been here? Her watch, along with her shoes, was gone. Waves washed across her, lifting and pushing. Turning on her side, she curled her legs in and decided neither was broken.

Her right shoulder hurt like hell but seemed to work.

Crawling further up on the beach, she searched for some shade, found none, and just rolled over, sitting on the water smoothed rocks.

Tammy! What she'd been doing before being waylaid came back to her. I have to find Tammy!

Trying to stand, she fell back hard as everything started to spin. "Help! Help!" The only response was the sound of the ocean coming up on the sand and rocks.

Looking up and down the beach she tried to find a way to get up. The beach went on about twenty feet in one direction and thirty in the other. Then it disappeared into waves that beat directly against the steep wall of the cliff.

Looking up, she decided it was about thirty five feet. Trying again, slower this time, she was able to stand, one hand planted on the hard rock wall to keep from falling.

Taking a careful step she realized both her ankles ached. Sprained, she thought, hopefully not broken.

Pushing away from the wall she made her way back to the lapping waves and waded out a little. After only a few feet, the bottom dropped away steeply and she stopped. Turning, she surveyed the rock wall trying to find a way up.

Her mouth was parched and her lungs burned. The wall was solid rock. There were a lot of foot and hand holds, a few shrubs and small trees growing at an odd angle near the top. She could make out a small ledge about two thirds of the way up.

Wading out of the water she made her way slowly over to the Jag. She glanced at the fat man with no neck, giving him a wide birth.

The car was upside down, the grill pushed up against the base of the cliff, the driver's side door gone. Down on her knees, she searched with her hand above the bottom of the driver's seat.

"Yes!"

Pulling her hand out, she saw the half bottle of water. Taking a sip she contemplated the cliff and the small ledge.

Deciding it could be done, she squeezed the air out of the plastic water bottle and put the cap back on tight, making it fairly flat. Stuffing it in the back of her jeans, she climbed up on the undercarriage of her wrecked car, walked to the front bumper and started climbing.

My kingdom for a pair of shoes, she thought.

*****

Putting down the phone in her private suite, Teddy smiled at Michael and said, "Sorry, Michael, duty calls," stepping closer with her cane, she placed her hand on his arm and leaned in, her voice low and sultry, "But I promise I'll make up for it when I get back."

Seated in the meeting room with the Doctor and Rudolph, she listened a second time as the Doctor explained.

"We don't know how or why, but the ICB is in touch with Michael here at the clinic. Documents have been sent out concerning TIM and speculation made concerning what we're doing."

"Impossible!" Teddy was emphatic. "I just spent twenty four hours with Michael. He never left my side. Never received or made a phone call, and was never near a computer. Where did you get such an idea?"

"Linda Woo was in the building two nights ago," the Doctor settled back in his chair to see how Teddy would react.

There was a pause then Theodora's face clouded in recognition, "Michael's old girlfriend?"

"The same."

"But why would she even think of coming here?"

"She and a friend, Tammy Spalding, tricked one of our guards into bringing them here. They tied the guard up and knocked him on the head, leaving him at the roof garden, took his keys and searched the building. Linda found the Cray's in the basement.

"When we discovered the guard, he identified, Woo. We had her eliminated last night, but not before we tested our remote scanning abilities. We have a complete scan of everything she knows. Unfortunately, we still haven't completed the playback program and it's a lot of information to go through. Beth is working on it as we speak. I should have more this evening."

"But that still doesn't tell us why," Teddy was emphatic.

"That's the confusing part. She was on a mission to find Michael and destroy him."

"Destroy him? And this Miss Spalding?"

"We're still looking for her," the Doctor seemed to have run out of information.

Teddy sat, fingers tenting and finally asked, "And the Phoenix?"

"We can be gone in six hours. Everything is in place."

Turning to Rudolph she asked, "How much?"

"Half," was his curt reply.

"I guess it can't be helped. Good, keep me posted," Teddy said as she pushed back from the table and stood, her cane out of place given her apparent youth and beauty.

*****

Linda pulled with all her strength. Trying a second time, she finally managed to swing her right foot high enough to hook a toe on the ledge. Sliding her elbow over, she was able to flatten her hand and gritted her teeth as she pushed her shoulders over the edge of the ledge. Shoving her foot further, she found perch and rolled onto the narrow ledge. Her breathing was ragged and her entire body was on fire with pain.

As she'd started her climb, she'd discovered at least two, possibly three, broken ribs. Each time she stretched and put her weight on her left side, she felt she'd pass out from the pain.

Scooting carefully, she managed to roll on her back and searched for her goal twelve feet above. Digging for the water bottle, she took a drink, recapped it, and stuffed it between her hip and the wall.

Noting the sun, she decided the climb had taken at least two hours, maybe more.

She wanted to rest. She wanted to close her eyes and go to sleep. But she didn't. She'd seen what Bob Nunn was capable of and she had to get there as soon as possible. Tammy needed her.

Slowly, balancing precariously above the rocky beach below, Linda managed to squat on the ledge. Delicately picking up the water bottle, she stuffed it back into her jeans. Leaning into the wall, she extended her legs as her head came up, her arms spread, fingers clutching any small hold they could find.

Michael used to do this, she thought. He'd taken her once but she just didn't seem to have the upper body strength to do it safely. Look at me now, Michael, she thought.

Her eyes searched and she stretched the right side of her body, her fingers wrapping around a small outcropping of rock. Steeling herself, she pushed up on tiptoes and pulled. Her arm shook as she slowly managed to pull herself up a foot, her left hand letting go, sliding up the wall and finding another hold slightly above the first one.

Her toes scraped against the rough rock, looking for a place to dig in. Her left toe found a spot and she cringed with pain as she pushed up a little.

Her brow sweating, she searched up and to her right. Spying the twisted stump of some small sapling, she braced, extended down slightly, and pulled hard with her left hand, her side exploding again, the fingers of her right hand extended until she felt the rough bark and closed around the small tree.

Her head jerked to her left and she searched quickly for a place to put her left hand. She could feel the sapling bending and knew it might break completely.

There, she thought. Her left hand came out and her fingers dug into a crack, hooking her to the wall, taking some of the weight off the sapling.

She could hear gulls behind and below, their caws a constant reminder that she was several feet above the ground.

Closing her eyes, she willed her body to relax as she fought to slow her breathing.

The wind was picking up. Time to finish this, she thought.

Her hands appeared to be two feet from the top. She recalled what Michael had told her. Don't find just where the first hand goes. Think in fours. First hand, then foot, then hand then foot.

Searching above the sapling, she could find nothing to grab. Suddenly she clinched her eyes shut and cursed, a bead of sweat blinding her.

"Damn! Damn! Damn!"

Slitting them she saw what appeared to be an outcrop on her left side. Following a line down from the outcrop, she found another crack where she could slip her left foot. Not finding anything above the sapling, she looked down and found a small bulge her right foot could settle on.

Deciding three out of four was enough, she tried to calm her breathing again, closed her eyes for a minute, held her breath and pushed up with her toes, propelling her body toward the left hand hold.

Grabbing hold, pain shooting through her body, her left foot dug in, but her right foot missed. Digging wildly, she was forced to shift her weight to the sapling and felt it start to pull from the crack.

No time to think, she pulled hard with her left hand, taking her weight off the sapling, pushed up with her right foot and was able to hook her toes on the weakened trunk. No breathing exercise or rest, she decided this was it. Go for broke.

Another painful tug with her left hand and her right foot shifted to the top of the sapling where she pushed, knowing the sapling would eventually give way. 

Just as her head popped above the edge, she wedged her right elbow on the loose lip and brought her left up beside it.

Her left foot slid across the rock face, her toes searching for the spot her left hand had abandoned. She found it, just as her right foot pushed the sapling out of the rock sending it to the beach.

Linda clung to her precarious perch, trying to breathe as the edge of the cliff cut into her damaged ribs. Everything spun and she closed her eyes.

Not this close, she thought. I didn't come this far to not make it.

Opening her eyes, the world had stopped spinning and she strained to bring her right leg up and find a toe hold. Finding none, she scooted forward painfully on her elbows and tried again.

Still nothing. She decided her only hope was to swing to her right as hard as possible, hoping to make it to the ledge with her foot. She knew that if she didn't she'd lose her balance and fall back, her body breaking on the rocky beach below.

Just as her left toes started slipping, she crossed her right leg behind her and swung her body as hard to the right as she could. Her left foot came free and she tried to get more lift by bending at the waist.

The pain was too much and she felt her left elbow give, sliding back toward the edge.

In a desperate move, she let her lower body swing back and kicked again toward the wall with her right foot as her elbows slipped further on the ledge.

Sure she would lose the battle but determined to fight to the end she was rewarded when the edge of her foot found perch on the edge cliff.

She grunted in pain as she dug with her left hand and hooked her right knee, pulling her left leg up and rolling over the edge just as her left hand gave way and played down into nothingness.

Pulling her hips up quickly, she managed one final roll and landed on her back about six inches from the edge of the cliff where she passed out.

*****

The Doctor was concerned. He towered over Beth as she sat at a computer consol going through lines of interpreted text. Bits and pieces of text was all they had until the playback program was completed.

The playback program would play a person's life backwards or forward like a movie, actually putting a movie of what they saw, on the screen. Unfortunately, it was very far from being operational.

"What is this?" the Doctor pointed at a word on the screen.

"I've seen that a couple of times. It seems to be a code name for Michael. Entity."

"Have you found anything else out about, Miss Spalding?"

"Not many facts. The emotional side is interesting though. There seems to be some type of bond between she and Linda."




The Entity Pt. 09



The Doctor paced and said, "What if we load her into one of the bodies. Then we can just talk to her."

"Well, it would take at least twelve hours to prep the body, do the load, and wait for her to wake up enough to talk to us. But then she'd have her own free will. She could refuse to talk to us."

"Have you seen any mention of tomorrows visit from the presidential candidate?"

"I have several searches going on, he's one of them. Nothing yet."

After considerable thought the Doctor said, "Keep looking and be sure everything is prepped for tomorrow. All we need is half an hour. Also, get everyone in for a scan update."

Stopping at the door, he turned to add, "Beth, dear, we want to update your scan too."

*****

The Captain sat at his desk. Where the hell are you, Woo? His complexion was ashen and he seemed to have aged ten years overnight.

Punching his phone he barked, "Tom! Get up here now!"

Pulling his bottom drawer open, he fished around for his bottle and sat two Dixie cups beside it.

Tom came in and sat, waiting.

Pouring two small servings, he offered one to Tom, and was surprised when he accepted.

"What the hell are you doing, Tom? Haven't you worked with me long enough to know you're not supposed to actually drink it? You're supposed to politely decline so I can have it."

Tom downed the red liquid, sat his cup in front of the Captain and said, "Hit me again, Captain."

The Captain smiled in spite of the situation and they both downed the red liquid.

Leaning back in his chair, the Captain tented his fingers and said, "You know, if they find either one of them, the first thing I'll do is kill them."

*****

Teddy pushed Michael's naked body back on the bed, her hand splayed across his chest, and she started kissing her way down.

"Are we more than friends, Michael?"

Michael laced his fingers in Teddy's red hair and moaned. "Uh. Of course, Teddy."

Caressing him with her hand, she asked, "Do you think about her?"

Michael couldn't place her and moaned again as Teddy pulled. Pressing gently with his hand, urging her to do more, he said, "Who? Who, Teddy?"

Blowing lightly, she cooed before saying, "Linda. Your old girlfriend."

Michael froze and untangled his fingers from Teddy's hair.

After a minute of silence as Teddy measured the impact of her question, she finally gave up and scooted up Michael's body.

Her years of experience came into play as she controlled the situation. She didn't believe Michael was part of any secret plot or conspiracy. As his lover, no matter how short the time frame, she would have known.

"Its okay, Michael, I certainly understand."

Pressing her breasts into Michael's chest, her long red hair splayed across both of them. Dipping her head she kissed Michael passionately.

"How do you know about her?"

"I'm sorry, Michael, but Rudolph, my lawyer, thought I should know. He meant no harm."

Her hand came up and a finger traced his mouth as she looked into his eyes. "You see, Michael, Rudolph is worried about me. He knows I've fallen in love with you."

Michael smiled slightly and brought an arm up to pull Teddy into him. He kissed her back, their tongues dancing as his other hand ran down her body.

"It's hard, Teddy. The whole thing. I guess you also know all about me. How I got here."

Teddy slid down, her head coming to rest between his chin and neck, one knee sliding over his thigh and pressing down as she straddled his leg.

"Yes, Michael, I do know. Does that bother you?"

Michael stared at the ceiling and finally said, "No. I thought you might. I mean, I guess now you're my benefactor."

Teddy turned her head slightly and kissed the inside of his neck, "So, do you think about her?"

Michael shifted slightly, uncomfortably under Teddy and said, "Of course I do. What would you think of me if I didn't? If I just abandoned her completely?"

Teddy knew she had to be careful. They were at a crossroads and she wanted to make sure the right choice was made. "You're right, Michael, I would think you an awful person," shifting slightly, her thighs tightening a little around his leg she continued in a whisper, "Will you think about me too?"

Michael pushed her up by the shoulders, holding her chest above his where he could see her eyes. "And when would that be?" A small teardrop fell from Teddy's cheek and splashed on his chest.

Through quiet sobs, her head turned slightly, not looking directly at Michael, she said, "You'll go back to her. I'll fix it so you can. It might take six months but I can fix it, Michael," her body quaked with emotion.

Pulling her tight, he kissed the tears from her cheeks and whispered, "No, Teddy. I know you can't. The Doctor explained," Michael's hand came up and turned her mouth toward his, "My decision was hard, but I will not waver. If you'll keep me, I'm yours."

Theodora sobbed as she hugged him, her head buried in the pillow beside his, her arms wrapped around his neck. Her intention had been to put on a good show. She'd surprised even herself when the moment came and no acting was needed.

While her heart wept with joy, her mind noted that she needed to talk to the Doctor. Something else is going on here that has nothing to do with Michael. 

****

Linda came to just as the sun kissed the sea green mat in the distance. Michael, she thought. Rolling her head, she could see the sun sink below the slate colored line at the horizon. Bringing her left hand up, she rolled toward the end of her journey, her hand reaching into the void more than thirty feet above the rocks.

Her only thought was finishing the journey. 

*****

Half an hour later, Officer Rhodes pulled his microphone from the dashboard of his patrol car and called in. "Dispatch. This is 12-20. Could you call the county and tell them the guardrail is missing here at lover's leap. Also, I'll be 10-7 at the scene."

"10-4 12-20."

Stepping from his car, Frank Rhodes, stepped from his brown and white and walked up to the edge of the cliff. Shining his flashlight down, he could barely make out the dark underside of a car.

Back at his car, he called in again. "Dispatch, this is 12-20. You better call Fire and Rescue. I think one went over. Also get Mike to bring out that big wrecker he has. The one with the long cable."

"10-4 12-20."

"One other thing, dispatch. Find that APB from SFPD. Get a make, model, and plate number. This might be it."

"10-4 12-20."

In his five years with the county he had heard stories of cars going over lover's leap. This was the first time he'd actually seen it.

Standing at the edge, he looked down and felt sorry for whoever was under the pile of metal.















Chapter 26

Fox News – The democratic hopeful, Arthur Wright, officially announced today that he is reducing his campaign efforts by half. He will be making speeches and attending dinners, but he feels that time can be better spent preparing for his first one hundred days in office. 'We expect to make big changes. It's time we stopped speculating what we might do, and started deciding what we will do.' 

"Tom, it's confirmed. They've found, Linda's car," the Captain sounded somber as he hung up the phone.

"Where?" 

Grabbing a cup of coffee as he passed the hall urn, Tom followed the Captain as he headed out the door. Falling in beside, Tom asked, "Where're we going?"

The Caption clicked the alarm on his car and both men got in.

"Lover's leap."

Tom placed his coffee in the center consol cup holder and pulled the seatbelt tight across his chest, shoving it home with a satisfying click.

"Shit," was all he said as the Captain pulled into traffic.

*****

Beth had put a lot of information together. Bunching the sheets of paper into a stack she found the doctor and explained.

"They seem to know some of what we're doing. They know we scanned Michael's mind. I found nothing about the visit tomorrow from the candidate. I think we're safe for a few more days, maybe enough to get the scan, but they suspect something is happening here, they just don't know what."

The Doctor stared into space for a minute and finally said, "Get the scans going. Michael too. And I want the scanner on-line until this is over. We will want updates."

*****

Tom watched over the edge of the cliff as Linda's car was pulled up the sheer wall. He cringed when the chrome windshield frame finally gave way and folded back.

Men from the county were standing around talking in hushed tones. Fire and rescue had rappelled down and covered a body they'd found body.

Two coastguard boats were stationed about a hundred yards offshore, divers lowering into rubber rafts, pulling their gear on, to start a search pattern.

The Captain stood to himself, hands on his hips, jaw jutting slightly as he waited for news.

Metal continued to grind as the destroyed car was pulled over the edge and came to rest, upside down, more or less where it had been before being pushed off.

Tom walked around and squatted, looking into the passenger compartment. Dusting his hands off, he walked over to the Captain and took up post.

Neither one of them wanted to speak the unspeakable.

*****

Tammy heard it first and held her hand over Allessandra's mouth signaling she should be quiet.

Then a small crack of light shined under the door. After constant darkness, the small slit afforded them a fair view of their prison.

The door flew open and the light in the cellar came on blinding them both.

The two silver dog bowls were set in the dirt just inside the door, one with water and the other with some unidentifiable brown, chunky slop.

"I guess my two bitches will have to share."

With that, the light went off and the door slammed shut.

Allessandra moved first, leaning away from Tammy and crawling toward the thin strip of light beneath the door that outlined the two bowls. 

Her vision returning, Tammy could see Allessandra leaning into the water dish, lapping up water.

She could hear Bob outside in the basement moving boxes and mumbling.

Crawling over beside Allessandra, she could smell the dark contents of the other bowl and repelled when she recognized it. Dog food. Canned dog food.

Allessandra had finished at the water dish and sat beside the door shoveling the slimy food into her mouth with her hand. Tammy sat on the other side of the door, picked up the water bowl and tipped it to her mouth.

Tammy still clung to hope that Linda would find them soon.

*****

Teddy's naked form kneeled over Michael sleeping form. Taking the small headset from Beth, she slipped it gently onto his head and sat back on her heels.

"He won't wake up. Not after this evening," Teddy sounded smug as she watched Beth typing on the keyboard of a portable computer identical to the one that had gone over the cliff in the SUV.

Michael's eyes moved back and forth beneath his lids and Beth watched the small screen intently.

"That's it. It was quick. I just added it to everything else we already have."

Closing the case, Beth left Teddy and Michael alone again.

Teddy smiled and blew in Michael's ear. His head lulled and his eyes finally opened. "Hi, lover. Did you have a nice nap?"

Michael stretched and yawned. "I had the most vivid dream," he exclaimed.

Sliding into the crook of his arm, rolling one of her knees over his thigh, Teddy asked, "Was it good?"

Michael grinned and brought his arm up, pulling her into him, "It's always good with you."

Teddy reveled in the kiss and finally pushed Michael away to say, "I meant your dream, Michael!"

Thinking for a second, he replied, "Of course it was. It was about meeting you."

Teddy leaned in and kissed Michael's chest. She wondered idly if an update should be done before they leave.

Michael moaned as Teddy purred down his body.

No matter, she thought, we can just do it again.

*****

"We've found another vehicle. It's out about twenty feet and on the bottom," the deputy paused, "There's at least one other body in that one, but we won't know the real body count until we pull it up."

After only the fat man's body had been discovered, Tom and the Captain clung to hope. Maybe she got away. Maybe she was taken somewhere else. As the deputy walked away neither glanced at the other.

*****

The Doctor went first. Rudolph looked on as Beth sat at the console, overseeing the operation.

"Have you done yourself yet, dear?"

"I will after you finish. The Doctor will do me."

"How long have you been with us?"

"Only two years."

Rudolph seemed thoughtful then finally asked, "Has a place been made for you with Phoenix, dear?"

"Oh yes, not a problem. There seems to be a spare place I can use."

Pressing a key, Beth removed the halo from the Doctor's head and leaned down to whisper, "Did you remember last night, dear?"

He just smiled and made way for Rudolph. "That's ashamed bout loosing half our capital."

Rudolph slid into the chair and waited while Beth adjusted the small halo, "More than enough, Doctor. Within six months it will be irrelevant."

The Doctor watched as Rudolph was scanned. "Who's left, dear?"

"Just me. But we should try to rescan just before we leave."

The Doctor was lost in thought as realization sunk in. The Phoenix. At last.

*****

It had been quiet on the other side of the door for some time now. Tammy and Allessandra had moved away from the light and sat huddled in each other's arms, Tammy listening to a tale that would have made Poe blush, as Allessandra recounted what happened to Sarah, the realtor.

"The odd thing was," she was whispering, "He kept talking to her the entire time. He would ask her what she thought, if she liked the way he'd made a cut."

Tammy just shivered and noted the sound of a computer keyboard being used on the other side of the door.

Allessandra tried to continue, "Then," she paused, then started again, "Then, well, he had to show this woman everything he, well, his work. He would hold it up in front of her and taunt her. Then-"

Allessandra stopped again and Tammy leaned close and whispered, "It's okay. You don't have to tell me."

Tammy felt Allessandra's fingers dig into her flesh and she hissed, "Yes I do! I can't carry this alone."

Bob had stopped typing and they heard him go up the stairs.

Tammy steeled herself and whispered, "Go ahead, Allessandra, tell me all of it."

"I don't know why she didn't protest more. I think he must have put something in her drink. I could see it hurt but she just didn't seem to protest – almost like she didn't care."

"Maybe he drugged her. That's it."

Allessandra sniffed and her whispered voice became quieter, Tammy could feel her body quake as she went on, "Then there she was. Right in the middle of the bedroom floor. Blood everywhere," her voice caught and she continued, "Parts everywhere. Then he pulls the mirror over. The floor mirror I use in my work. He turned it and tilted it down."

Allessandra fell quiet again and Tammy waited, stroking her back, "Then he wasn't happy because she couldn't see. I mean, who would want to? So anyway, he got mad and told me to prop her head up with a pillow."

Allessandra broke down in sobs again and Tammy tried not to imagine.

"So he yells at me and," Allessandra sobbed some more while Tammy tried to calm her.

Finally calmed she had to finish, "He told me to get a pillow and I did. I walked to the bed, picked up two pillows from the bed - from our bed, and I lifted her head and slid them under her head.

"He just stood by the mirror and laughed as this poor woman finally saw what had been done. What was left!" Allessandra hissed out the last.

They sat in the dark and shivered. Allessandra's quaking subsided and Tammy thought she'd fallen asleep. She jerked when Allessandra finally finished her tale.

"He walked up and pulled the tape off her mouth. I think she was too weak to yell at that point. Or in shock. I don't know. Then her mouth moved. I could see it. Her mouth moved and she said please. Please finish me."

Then Allessandra rushed ahead, wanting to unburden herself, needing to cleans herself of the evil, "He brought the knife up, placed it on her throat and sawed down quickly."

After what Tammy thought was half an hour, she could hear Allessandra's breathing, slow and even and knew she'd fallen asleep.

She leaned in the corner, happy for the feel of a warm body in her arms and thought about Linda.

*****

The Entity could feel himself pool. Understanding better what was happening, it was somehow comforting to spread out, in a sense, flex his muscles.

Bits and pieces were processed consciously. Other things were noted in passing and filed away.

He recalled a show he'd seen once about yoga. He seemed to find balance, like a tuning fork in perfect resonance, and fell into a trance.

He had only one thought. One objective. One motive. He knew that if Linda could get to anything electronic. If she could just push four keys, that he would find her. Immediately.

He just needed her to type the word help and he could find her.

*****

"He's back, Captain. We watched the spread. He's gone global again."

The Captain looked up from his cup of coffee and nodded before returning to his reverie.

Tom tried a couple of times then said, "There's no activity. He's not responding. He's just out there. Waiting."

The Captain looked up again, "Good. Maybe he can find them."

Please be sure to take the time to vote and comment. I hope you're enjoying the story as much as I enjoyed writing it. Much more to come. BTW – This is a sequel to The Sentinel. 



The Entity Pt. 10



This is the story of love lost, love explored, and love found in a place least expected. It is also a mystery that involves power, money, greed, and lust. While not as graphic as most here at Literotica I hope you find it an entertaining read. I apologize for the state of the work. It still needs proofing. Please vote and comment. 

JPMMURPHY 

Chapter 27

CNN – Republican hopeful, Kerry Richard's, has doubled his campaign efforts in light of his opponent's reduction in campaigning. With less than a ten percent approval rating, he was seen today on the steps of the San Francisco court house, calling for the true voice of the people. There was an embarrassing moment when Richard's turned toward the governor and invited him to the podium, only to find the California governor had ducked out just minutes before...

*****

Suit clad agents spilled from SUV's in front of and behind the long black vehicle, sunglasses in place, and wrist's held to their lips as they whispered responses and listened without listening.

Finally, an unseen signal was passed and Team Leader walked to the door of the limousine, pulling it open, while he watched the immediate area around the vehicle.

The Doctor stood at the curb in a dark suit with an outlandish tie. He watched intently as the tall man unwound from the back door, stood, glanced around and stuck out his hand. Taking the Doctor's he said, "You must be the Doctor."

The Doctor shook his hand and with a slight bow and said, "One and the same. And you must be our next President, Mr. President."

Arthur Wright didn't miss the flattery and dug up his best awe shucks smile before replying, "We really should wait until the people get their chance to have their say. But don't let that change your vote."

The Doctor sized the man up. Took in the size of his frame, the massive presence he created and his easy manner. He smiled thinking. Yes. I think this will be fun.

They stepped into the foyer of the beautiful old building. Arthur Wright took in the restored condition and commented to the Doctor, admiring the work.

"I think she had it done just for you, Mr. President."

Leading the way, they went up to the fourth floor in two separate groups. The Doctor first with three of the agents and the democratic hopeful followed, with three others.

Theodora Elizabeth Miller stood beside the finely finished double mahogany doors that opened into her private apartment. Wright's campaign manager, having arrived an hour earlier, stood at her side. Two other dark suited agents stood just inside the door.

Bradley Lewis had tried several times to cancel today's visit. He didn't care how much money Theodora Miller had given to Arthur's campaign, he was sure the time could be better spent hammering nails into Kerry Richard's political coffin. That was until she'd offered a preview of what his boss would be experiencing.

"Why do you smile so, Mr. Lewis?"

"Well, I thought, well, we thought we would be dealing with someone much older."

Teddy had smiled and explained, "You would have but my Grandmother, Theodora, passed away a week ago. I'm her sole heir and namesake so we felt no need to disrupt things. Besides, as you know, she was an extremely reclusive person. She made Onasis look like a gallivanting playboy. I spoke to her just before her death and she was emphatic about our future President experiencing our breakthrough."

"And you would be?" Mr. Lewis turned and held his hand out to Michael.

"A close personal friend of Miss Miller's, Sir."

They shook hands and Mr. Lewis decided immediately he didn't care for the man's penetrating stare.

Pointing at a leather recliner, Teddy offered, "And what about you, Mr. Lewis? Would you like to experience the future?" 

Taking in the lavish surroundings, paneled walls and antiques that rivaled the White House, he glanced up and Teddy continued, "You can ask agent Young. He tried it and came through without a scratch."

Agent Young didn't need to be asked. "I highly recommend it, Sir."

Mr. Lewis sat back in the chair and watched as a young woman stepped from behind the chair and leaned down to snug a pair of futuristic headphones on his head. Outside sound was immediately blocked by the heavy ear pads as he admired the low cut of the young woman's dress and the fact she wore no bra.

Next he heard a small hiss and noticed the woman leaning over a piece of electronic equipment sitting on a small cart off to the side. A female voice cut in and started counting down from thirty as Mr. Lewis admired the generous view he was given as the young woman fumbled with a ballpoint pen, dropping it beside the cart and stooping to pick it up.

When the countdown got to fifteen he smiled as he watched a garter clasp and the top of the young woman's stockings disappear beneath the edge of her dress.

Beth consulted a few of the words scrolling across the screen and punched a key that brought up TIM. Glancing at her captive, she could tell from the glazed look and slight beading of his brow that Mr. Lewis had started his journey. 

Checking the screen she could see dual readouts. One was the flow of information from Mr. Lewis's mind to the twin Cray's in the basement and the other was the small fantasy TIM had created that was being played for Mr. Lewis's benefit.

She reminded herself that the playback program had to be finished. She was dieing to know what all these men wanted to do to her.

Thirty minutes later, a smiling Mr. Lewis was helped from the chair as he flustered looking for words to describe what he'd just experienced. His deep crimson blush when Beth shook his hand and dismissed herself, didn't go unnoticed by Agent Young.

"My goodness, dear, you are lovely." Arthur Wright didn't blink when he made the complement. Teddy glanced at Michael and noted a look she hadn't seen for a long time. In fact, the last time she'd seen that look; her father had had the young man banished. She had learned later that he'd also been served a good thrashing from her over protective parent.

"Mr. President, this is a good friend of mine, Thomas."

Michael stumbled a little when Teddy changed his name but recalled that he had yet to make clear to the Doctor what his intentions were. Michael shook his hand, squeezing a little harder than protocol dictated.

Beth had returned after checking the Cray's in the basement. Her broad smile told Teddy everything was going as planned. The extra button opened on her blouse told her that Beth was enjoying her role as temptress.

"I've ordered tea, Mr. President. I believe your security director is downstairs in our kitchen assisting my staff."

A big hand engulfed hers, pulling it to his arm as he escorted her to the sitting area beyond the leather easy chair. Sitting on the couch beside Teddy precluded Michael and he found a place to the side in an ancient leather wingback.

Beth took up station, as planned, directly across from their prey and proceeded to flash her silky red undergarments more brazenly than a Cancan dancer for the next forty five minutes.

Michael sat back and took in the scene. The talk centered on an upcoming bill that would open the door to full experimentation in cloning. Arthur Wright assured Teddy several times that she really shouldn't worry. Everything was taken care of, palms had been greased and barrels filled. The bill would have no problem what so ever the next time it came up.

Michael was surprised at how up to date and informed Teddy was, but then he decided that was probably why she had the huge inheritance and he lived in her bedroom. All in all, the two hours were not something he relished repeating in spite of Teddy's reassuring smiles and glances.

This time it was Beth that escorted their next victim to the chair. Arthur Wright was more than willing to let her hang on his arm as they walked to the chair. He even waited patiently as she pulled his elbow into her breasts repeatedly while explaining how much she admired him and his ideas for the future.

By the time TIM kicked in, the future president was involved in a free for all that involved both Teddy and Beth.

When the headset was removed, Arthur Wright just sighed and smiled. Standing at the door, he made a point of kissing the back of Teddy's hand, while at the same time, managing to give Beth a lecherous smile.

"I can see now, Miss Miller, why your grandmother was so adamant. And I only wish she were here so I could thank her myself. I'm sure our military will be very interested in this," his voice trailed off with, "I can just imagine."

"Thank you so much, Mr. President. I'm sure Grandma Miller is looking down on us right now and is very happy with your kind words."

If only he knew, thought Teddy, even as the words came out of her mouth.

*****

The Entity had watched it all.

His conclusion was always the same but he knew, as well, it was all conjecture.

At the same time, his web had been taut, waiting for some sign from Linda.

While impossible to express, other than through words and thoughts, Michael suddenly felt very sad.

*****

Tammy had lost all track of time. She had no idea what day it was or if it was light or dark outside. It was as if time required a constant visual reference and the darkness had hidden that marker completely.

Scanner Bob had been quiet for some time. She couldn't decide if he was sleeping or had left the house.

Allessandra continued sleeping, snuggled into her body, breathing slow and steady.

Tammy finally let go and allowed her mind to turn to something she'd been skirting all week.

Why, she wondered? Why do I feel comfortable and safe with Linda? Is it just compensation for something else that's missing? Something that I will eventually find with another person? With a man?

She knew it wasn't a question of the euphoric high of sex, and blushed as she had the thought. There had been no sex. Just touching and snuggling. A lot of laughing and languid sighs. Well, and kissing, she amended.

She let her mind wander back to that day at Linda's parent's house. She'd seen them stacked on a chair in a corner of the room as Linda pushed her out. There must have been five or six of them, all different sizes, all well worn, childhood comfort toys. Some with braids. Another with short bangs and another, taller one, with long straight strands. All with locks of bright red yarn. She'd said nothing of Linda's collection of redheaded Raggedy Ann dolls. All fluffy and soft, made for small hands. Made for hugging.

Does she feel the same way? Tammy couldn't even wrap her mind around the question. The word she kept getting in the way.

She recalled Linda's tentative touches which later became soft caresses. She knew Linda had been the instigator, but she had to admit, she had put up little resistance.

She also knew that, as much as she tried to deny it, she'd relished in the rush she felt the night they drove back from the airport. She'd lived it before. The giddy high, sultry teasing and constant goofy grinning that went with it. The euphoric thrill of a first love. 

This was different from Bruce, and the other eight Bruce's she'd had over the past ten years.

Suddenly, Tammy could see it. The rolling waves of rock raked out with two odd shaped stones at counterpoint. That was it, she thought, the same tranquility and subtle beauty she'd seen in Linda's father's rock garden.

Tammy could see the tall green bamboo raking secrets from the wind and telling them to the two stones, so far apart, yet bound as one by the sea of waving gravel.

She was contemplating who, in this relationship was holding the peg toothed, wooden rake she'd seen leaning against the side of the house when the door was jerked open and she was blinded by the light.

"Showtime bitches! We're going to give the performance of your lives!" Scanner Bob laughed too hard at his own joke.

Don't forget me, Linda. Tammy's unspoken wish rode the heavens on an unseen star.

*****

Teddy gushed. These were words, no matter how often she'd wished for them, her father had never spoken.

"I don't know why, Teddy, but you complete me. I know it's only been a matter of days, but I don't feel complete without you," Michael sat beside her in the back of the Rolls.

After the entourage had left, Michael had become particularly loving. Not aroused, but attentive and caring, holding her hand and sitting quietly while they discussed the morning's events.

"I'm sorry about the name change," she'd said. Going on to explain what the Doctor had already explained. Unfortunately, Michael is dead. They needed to define what he wanted and move ahead. She added that the trust her grandmother had set up, along with the identity to go with it, included grandma Miller's father's name, Thomas.

"She gave you Blackburn as a last name. If you don't like it, I guess we can change it. But it's all up to you."

He'd become quiet and finally had an odd request, "Is there any chance we can go out? I mean, we're all dressed up. We're both much stronger and neither one of us is using a cane. Maybe just a quiet place to eat and some music."

And here they were, her driver and nurse in the front seat and she and Michael, sitting like school kids in the back, watching the sights and lights scroll by.

She wondered idly if it was a small spurt of jealousy. Arthur Wright was an overwhelming presence, even for someone as strong and willful as her father. But then, she thought, this isn't my father. This is Michael. 

Pulling the arm rest up, she scooted into Michael and pulled his arm around her. She felt giddy. She felt like a debutant again. Except this time, the guy was really going to get the girl.

"I know, Michael, I feel the same," leaning in she sighed into his shoulder and wondered how many days they had left in sunny Los Angeles.

*****

Tom continued to try and raise Michael. The Captain had reassured him that he was out there, waiting for Linda. "He'll let us know."

They'd both given up after checking in with Pete and decided they needed some rest.

"You look like shit, Tom. Go home and get some rest."

It didn't go unnoticed that the Captain locked the door of his office as Tom left, closed the blinds on his windows and turned the lights off. At least someone will be here if Michael calls.

He bounced the girls again and made the goofy horsy sounds they loved. The meal was far from quiet but Mary deflected most of the what ifs that night.

The Sheriffs department had recovered a second vehicle. An SUV with one other occupant. Linda's body still had not been found. They had brought out lighting platforms and expanded the search, planning on another all nighter. 

Mary pulled the remote from his hand and turned off the television. Slipping off her robe, she slid in beside her sleeping husband and kissed his cheek.

"It's going to be okay, dear," she whispered and reached across his chest to turn the lights off. 

Unfortunately, she was unable to muster conviction to go with it.

Chapter 28

A moment, as defined, is undefined. The dictionary calls it an undetermined short passage of time. A while, is simply an undetermined number of moments, strung together. Tammy knew that neither applied. She dry heaved again as Bob's bastardizing of eternity, the never ending moment, was visited upon she and Allessandra. An eternity that bore all the earmarks of hell, but undecidedly, would end in unimaginable pain and anguish for both of them.

Allessandra had passed out and hung limp from her shackles that looped over a water pipe hanging from the ceiling of the basement; the floor of the modern log house they'd been held captive in.

Scanner Bob had passed expansive almost half an hour ago as he strutted around the small table he'd brought downstairs. He was euphoric, his laptop open, the screen affording Tammy a view of what the small digital camera could see. Carmen was playing again. Just starting.

"They're watching," Bob beamed in an informative, good little boy way.

Tammy saw nothing good, nor boyish, in what Bob planned on doing. She scanned the wooden workbench again, Bob's array of artifacts lying out on a white towel. A surgeon's preparations for a not so delicate proceedure.

The two long black knives were prominent, given size; however the ice pick projected a particularly gruesome presence, given the circumstances. The razor knife appeared benign with its blade retracted into the handle. 

The handgun was also there. Unfortunately, Bob had made it clear he had no planes of using it. Allessandra had begged, as Bob drug her in and shackled her to the pipe beside Tammy. Both hanging like carcasses in a slaughter house waiting to be cut, weighed, and shipped. 'Please! Just shoot me! Do what you want after, but just shoot me first!' 

He'd only laughed and gone about his task.

Looking down, she could see a white plastic painter's tarp spread on the floor at her feet. Bricks were stacked at the corner and along the side to keep it in place.

From virgin's betrothal to death bed, Tammy thought as she felt her stomach wretch again and contemplated the pristine white plastic.

Bob had been chatting with people. She had no idea who. It appeared to be a private group, the image she saw on the laptop's screen of her and Allessandra hanging side by side was being shared with the group.

Taking note of her dry cough, Bob walked over and stood in front of Tammy, his hand playing across her naked chest, weighing, squeezing. "Don't get upset. I still have some digging to do. That might take a couple of hours," his evil laugh rattled her and she managed to find enough spit that it slid down his cheek, into the corner of his mouth.

She slumped against her shackles when he only laughed and made a promise, "Um. Good! I'll taste much more of you before we start the other procedures."

With that he was gone, the door to their dirt floor dungeon was open and when she twisted a little she saw him take off his shirt, pick up a shovel he'd left earlier, and start digging.

*****

Like peering through the eyepiece of Mauna Kea Observatory in Hawaii, the largest of its kind, the Entity searched the billions of instantaneous electronic pulses that bounced around the globe, searching for the faintest nebula at, comparatively speaking, the furthest edge of his galaxy.

Then he saw it. The name. It bounced through the smallest of portals in his milky way, but did not go unseen.

'Tammy Spalding'

It took another fifteen minutes, light years in Michael's speed of light world, to find the video feed that went with the text.

Ten more minutes of incomprehensible gibberish in chat text and he surmised the crux of what was about to take place.

Simultaneously, text messages were sent to Tom and the Captain. E-mail's sent to their personal and work computers and a broadcast message sent to all IP's Michael knew as theirs.

His electronic omnipotence shrunk as he neglected the rest of the world and concentrated on trying to locate the origin of the devil's broadcast.

*****

"Yeah, Tom, I received it too. I'm here at the office. Get here as soon as possible." Hanging up his phone, the Captain read through the recorded chat sequence, an IP that followed, and picked the phone up again, "Right. I want everything dropped and I want a snooper on the following IP address."

Giving the watch supervisor the address, he hung his phone up again and started typing.

'I'm here, Michael, tell us what to do.'

*****

Teddy giggled. She blushed when it came out. She recalled giggling. It seemed such a childish thing for someone her age to do, but she couldn't deny it made her feel good.

"Where did you get that?"




The Entity Pt. 10



Michael snapped another picture and smiled crookedly as he consulted the small color screen on the back of the camera. "I asked Rudolph to get it for me."

Teddy rolled onto her stomach, a foot came up and she smiled into the camera, "But you have no money. How did you pay for it?"

"Ah. Well, I bartered my body to all the nurses."

Jumping to her knees on the edge of the bed, Teddy balled her hand into a small fist and hit him playfully on the shoulder, "You better not have, buster." With that she took another swing, landing firmly on the same spot. Michael raised his hands in surrender.

"I give up! I was told I had a trust so I decided to use it! Rudolph thought that was great!"

Falling back in the pile of sweaty sheets, Teddy pointed a finger, and beckoned. Setting the camera on the nightstand, Michael crawled on the bed and rolled in beside her.

"But what do you want pictures for, Michael? You have me."

Propping up on an elbow, Michael toyed with Teddy's hair, his face serious, as Teddy waited for an answer.

"I want to remember you as you are right now."

Teddy became quiet and waited.

"That's not the only thing I bought," his voice was soft, complacent, as he waited for her to ask.

"Come on, Michael, give. I want to see."

Rolling away from Teddy, Michael opened the small drawer on the marble topped, antique nightstand beside the bed and pulled something out. Before closing the drawer, he set the camera inside.

Rolling back to Teddy, his hand closed, he leaned close and kissed her passionately. His hand raked the side of her head and he stared intently into her eyes before asking, "Will you marry me, Teddy?"

His hand opened between them and a small black, satin covered box appeared.

Teddy felt as if her heart would stop, she knew her breathing had. Her fingers shook when she finally reached out and slid them across the wavy finish of the material.

Opening it, she stared in wonder at the square cut diamond.

Finally, exploding in sound and movement, she jumped to her knees and cried, "Yes, Michael! Yes, I'll marry you!" Falling into his arms, they rolled out to sea on a wave of love.

*****

"We've found the carrier. Unfortunately, it's a mobile broadcast, direct from satellite to computer. One of those high-speed, broadband services that you can use in certain geographic locations. In this case, pretty much most the west coast."

Tom slid into a chair opposite the Captain, "Can they narrow it down at all?"

"Actually, they have. They're trying to get it narrowed down more."

Pointing at a map of California, the Captain found the spot along the coast where Linda's car was found. "They have it down to a hundred square miles, and this point is included. We can eliminate about twenty five square miles for overlap into the pacific. From the looks of the picture, Tammy's in some kind of basement or garage, not a boat."

"You've seen her?" Tom was ecstatic.

"Yeah, unfortunately we have."

The Captain turned his laptop around and an enhanced reproduction of the broadcast could be seen filling the screen.

Tom's enthusiasm tumbled with realization. Finally he asked, "And Linda?"

"No sign of her yet. Her name hasn't been mentioned in chat either."

Tom just stared, unbelieving, at Tammy's naked form as she twisted slightly on her shackles, intently watching something off screen.

Pointing at the screen, he asked, "Who's she?"

"I sent a cropped enhancement to Pete over at SFPD. They've confirmed that she's Allessandra Martinelli from the hotel. Unfortunately, if that's Martinelli, then we can be pretty sure that Robert Nunn is there."

Resolve setting in, Tom finally asked, "What are we doing?"

"The county has redirected all units from the search," the Captain paused before continuing, "for Linda. The state has called units into the area. The FBI is also organizing, since it involves kidnap and one of their fugitives. Unfortunately, there are two subdivisions, both with over a hundred houses, in the defined area. That's aside from all the other houses built out along the coast in the wooded areas. They're all doing a house to house, but we can't actually demand to go inside and search until the fed's arrive. We have no search warrant."

Tom stood and hollered over his shoulder as he ran from the Captain's office, "Let me get one of our mobile units. Tell Michael what we're doing. I'll meet you at your car!"

_____

Tammy's mind had wandered again. Her legs and back ached. She had stopped thinking about the here and now. Her mind was on the other side. She was plumbing the abyss of the ever after and wondering if the next few hours would be erased. She couldn't imagine heaven with the memories she was about to be served.

Jerking, her eyes focused, and she could see that Bob was up to his knees in the grave he was making. How deep, she wondered.

Scanning the room again, she could find nothing within reach of either foot that might save them. Her eyes passed over a glass of water sitting on the work bench and she suddenly felt parched.

Allessandra whimpered and Tammy inspected her face. Eye's still closed; she seemed to have found refuge in some type of sleep, she thought. 

Hearing a harsh clank, she twisted a little and watched as Bob, shovel lying in the doorway, pulled his shirt on and started buttoning it.

Tammy actually kicked and struggled as he walked out of the room, stopping to pick up the shovel.

"That's good. Keep doing that. Let them get their money's worth." Bob just chuckled as he walked past, the smell of fresh soil and sweat hung in his wake like death's perfume.

Her eyes darted as he leaned over the computer and typed. While she could see their image, the chat box was too small to make out. She could tell there were responses, as black lines scrolled up and Bob smiled.

Finally straightening, Bob stretched and turned toward Tammy. "You know? That was a lot of work. I think I'll have to change the plan next time. I should have let you and the bitch dig it."

She could feel her eyes well and wasn't sure if it was from fear or anger. Silently, she watched Bob step to the camera, stop and stare into the lens, and wave, before walking past them once more, raking his hand across her stomach, and heading upstairs.

"I need something to drink. And a potty break," he said over his shoulder as his form disappeared.

Pausing on the stairs, he added, "But don't worry, Tammy, I'll try not to take too long. I know you want to get started." His laugh cut as sharp as any knife.

*****

"Why here, Captain?" Tom could see the ocean as the Captain negotiated the hard left turn, skirting the crime scene tape.

"Everyone else is working the subdivisions. Let's just call it a hunch. Watch for mail boxes. These places could be so far off the road we'd never see them."

*****

She could hear the floor creak as Bob moved around. First the kitchen, then he walked down the hall, his steps heavy, the pipe shook as he passed.

Finally, she heard the toilet flush and Bob's steps came back down the hall.

She tried to stop it. She was shamed by it, but there was no way to control the quaking. Tears started to roll freely as Bob took his first step on the stairs. Her mouth contorted and her knees finally gave way, the pain in her shoulders was lost to utter despair as she heard the second step.

Her mind slipped to a sunny day on the bank of a lake. The water looked blue and her long red locks were done up in pigtails. Her father had just put a worm on her hook and she distinctly recalled saying yuck. Her mother sat on a blanket behind them and proclaimed, "I told you, Harold." Dad just smiled.

Another heavy step and Tammy thought about Tommy Jessup and his mom's minivan. A sweaty, fumbling, few hours at the drive-in where they missed most of Good Will Hunting on the big screen, but she came home a woman.

Another step and she recalled her mother's funeral. Her father somber and her own heart broken.

She could here Bob saying something as he took the next step. She shut him out completely and thought of Linda. Her smiling eyes and silky black hair. The small bubble of warmth and smells they made together under the covers. Clenching her eyes she whispered, "I'll miss you, Linda."

*****

"Yes, Ma'am. I know, Ma'am. Yes, we will."

Turning to Tom the Captain said, "You think her eighty year old husband could have them in the cellar?"

"Right," was Tom's deflated answer.

"I saw two mailboxes together just up the road. Maybe we should split up."

"Right," Tom said again reflecting the Captain's fowl mood.

*****

A loud crashing sound broke through her thoughts. Eyes wide, she caught sight of the wine rack out of the corner of her eye, as it leaned, slowly at first, finally crashing to the hard concrete floor.

The few bottles of wine exploded and a deep crimson color spread around broken glass.

Trying to turn, she caught sight of Bob as he staggered past her, tripping on one of the bricks holding down the white plastic.

"Fuck!" Bob was trying to reach over his shoulder to a point just out of reach where a long kitchen carving knife stuck out of his back.

Unable to reach it, he struggled across the plastic, falling on the slippery surface, looking over his shoulder, an expression of real panic on his face.

"I'll fucking kill you!" Spittle and red drool made a spray across the plastic.

Tammy's vision became blurry as panic and her raised arms constricted her breathing. Her vision started to tunnel as a form limped past her.

At the edge of consciousness, she watched as the shadowy form limped up to Bob, paused and pulled the knife out of his back, throwing it to the floor in front of him. Still limping, the shadowy form continued on to the work bench, picked up the handgun and turned, keeping it pointed at the floor.

Tammy's heart pounded in her ears. She struggled to yell but only managed a horse whisper, "Kill the bastard!"

"Pick up the knife, asshole!"

Tammy recognized the voice just before she passed out. She actually smiled.

Linda stared at Bob, sprawled on the floor, and repeated, "Pick the fucking knife up, asshole."

"Fuck you," Bob managed, as he rolled on his side, five feet from Linda, "Let em put me in jail!"

The shot reverberated in the confines of the concrete basement and Allessandra's eyes sprung open just in time to watch Linda limp to Bob's side, lean close to his ear, and whisper, "Oops. My aim was off. I think I shot the wrong head off."

Bob was propped up on an elbow, mouth open, as he watched crimson spread around the crotch of his pants.

He didn't even notice as Linda picked up the knife, placed it in his hand and squeezed his fingers around it.

Sure, Captain, he was brandishing the knife at me, she thought, just before the burning pain in her left side overwhelmed her and she collapsed at Tammy's feet.

*****

"Yeah. I heard it too." They both jumped back in the car and the Captain drove while they watched for a mailbox, house or lane on the right.

"There!" Tom exclaimed, pointing.

Once on the small gravel lane, the Captain floored it, the car sliding and throwing gravel as they brushed shrubs and saplings on both sides.

Skidding to a stop, Tom was first at the front door jerking the glass storm door open and, seeing the Captain barreling like an angry bull in his direction, stepped to the side and watched as the obstacle was turned into a splintered wreck.

"Look for a basement," the Captain said as Tom followed him in.

"I found it," Tom yelled and started down the stairs.

"Call for an ambulance!" the Captain heard before he could follow Tom.

Detouring to the kitchen, he dialed 911.



Chapter 29

Four long candles burned yellow, the light flickered occasionally when a black suited waiter walked by. A string quartet softly played a waltz several yards away. Michael stood in his tuxedo, walked around the table and held his hand out to Teddy.

It had been a busy two days. Michael had been confused at first but then became caught up in the mood as Rudolph took care of legalities and Teddy shopped for a wedding gown.

Michael had decided to keep his new namesake, Thomas Blackburn and he and Rudolph had completed all the necessary paperwork. He suddenly found himself a moderately wealthy man with his new bank account. He softly thanked his benefactor, the elder Mrs. Theodora Elizabeth Miller, once again. 

The cafeteria on the ground floor was transformed to an elegant ball room with the help of curtains, flowers, and lighting. The staff and their guests sat at white linen covered tables a good distance away.

Beth was snuggled into the Doctor, his hand draped around the back of her chair. Rudolph had no family, and as far as anyone knew, no significant other. Teddy's nurse, a portly woman in her sixties, sat at his side, hanging on every word he said.

"I'm not sure, my fair maiden, if we can dance, but I'm sure we can stand close and move to the music."

Teddy was resplendent in her white silk wedding gown, small pearls sewn into the bodice every half inch. A small cameo hung on a gold chain, around her neck.

"Yes, my fine sir. I'm sure we can."

As they stepped to the dance floor defined by the tables that surrounded it, a hush fell over the well wishers, followed by applause and cheers.

Teddy looked up and offered a demure smile as Michael's arms came up and gently nudged her around the dance floor.

"But how did you, dear?"

"What's that, Teddy?"

"The ring? I mean, you can't just pick that out of a catalogue and order by phone."

Michael smiled as they dipped slightly before stepping in unison to their right with the music.

"Let's just say I knew exactly what I wanted and where to get it."

Teddy sighed and leaned, "I love it, Thomas, as I love you."

The waltz ended and they walked hand in hand back to their table. Wanting something a little livelier, the Doctor conferred with the quartet and some light jazz was produced as he and Beth took to the dance floor. A minute into the song, Rudolph and the good nurse joined in as several other couples came forth.

Leaning in, Teddy said, "Thomas?"

"Yes, Teddy?"

"I was talking to Rudolph today and he said I have some business to take care of. I wondered if you would mind terribly if we combine a little business with our honeymoon."

Thomas leaned across the table and took Teddies hand in his, the gold wedding band glinted, "I'm yours, Teddy, a man of leisure with love in his heart. Whatever you want." Leaning down, he brought her hand up and kissed the square cut diamond, a twin to Linda's, before moving up to the back of her hand.

At two in the morning, festivities came to an end as Thomas stood to offer a final thank you to the guests, and one last toast.

Everyone stood at their tables, Champaign flutes in hand, as Thomas spoke, "To a very long life and a very long love, in the arms of my beautiful wife!"

"Here! Here!" echoed around the room and one final dance was enjoyed by all.

*****

The Captain continued explaining as they came up the stairs, "No. Her office called and insisted I return their misplaced employee. She did say she would call tonight when she got in."

Linda had spent the last four days in the hospital. The prognosis was two cracked and one broken rib, one sprained ankle, several cuts, scratches, bruises and dehydration. Tammy had been kept for two nights with severe dehydration and trauma. Her wrists where black and bruised from the shackles, but other than that she was in much better shape than Linda. She'd been kept sedated most the time before finally being sent home with a bottle of pills and an admonishment to rest.

The nurses had made no comment when they discovered Linda, the second night of their stay at the hospital, curled on the edge of Tammy's bed, both sound asleep.

The Captain noted the disappointed face as he continued to keep a slow pace, Linda leaning on his arm, as they climbed the stairs together.

"I just can't believe the guy lived," Linda finally exclaimed as they rounded the third landing, her eye's drawn to the place along the wall she'd propped Tammy up, promising to protect her.

"If you can call it that," the Captain chuckled before adding, "I see we need to send you back to the firing range. I mean, how could you aim for his chest from five feet away and blow his manhood, family jewels and all, away. He'll be the bell of the ball in the pen."

Lind didn't laugh but she was smiling by the time they made the fourth landing.

"And I don't think I told you. We've finally found someone whose pockets haven't been lined by that group at Waverly Hills. We have a search warrant and we're going in three days from now. They refused to make it sooner citing the non-violent nature of the situation"

It was a triumph, but a small one. Tom had called yesterday to tell her that Michael was gone again. Same as before. One minute he and Tom were chatting and the next, nothing.

"I want to go in with you, Captain."

"What about the three weeks rest and recovery the doctor ordered?"

"Right, you know me. I'll be bouncing off the walls by tomorrow."

"We'll see, Woo." Taking her key, he unlocked the door, pushed it open and stepped aside.

Linda stepped into the living room and searched for the light switch. Just as it came on, the room burst into loud cheers and whistles.

Tom yelled, "Welcome the conquering hero!"

Pete Bronson stepped up and added, "I knew giving you a gun was a mistake."

Her father stepped out of the small crowd and hugged her. Her mother followed. Her brother leaned in and whispered, "But did you have to shoot his balls off?"

Tom's wife showed up with a tray of Champaign glasses, one filled with 7-Up for Linda. "Sorry, dear, doctor's orders. You're still taking pain meds."

A few of her crew were there along with Pete's latest flame.

Forty five minutes later, the Captain was the last to leave. Placing his hands on her shoulders at the door, looking in her eyes, he said, "You did good, Linda. I'm very proud of you. I understand there's going to be some kind of ceremony at the Mayor's office this Saturday." He smiled and kissed her on the forehead before leaving.

Her parent's told her they'd be at the Hilton for the night, if she needed anything and that they wanted to see her for lunch the next day before they flew back to Los Angeles. Linda decided parents would be parents whether you were thirteen, thirty or sixty. She smiled and made her promise.

The apartment suddenly felt cold and empty. The well wishers had left, Tammy had returned to New York, a killer had been brought to justice, and Michael was gone. Again.

Picking up her bag from the hospital, she kicked her shoes off in the middle of the living room floor and headed for her bedroom. Turning the corner of the short hall, she froze, noticing a small crack of light coming from below the closed door. Her heart pounded as she quietly set the bag on the floor at her feet.

Stooping slightly, she padded quietly toward the door. Seeing it wasn't latched, she turned the knob back slowly so no noise would be made and pushed it open just enough to see inside. Pressing her nose into the frame, she peeked through the small crack and froze when she saw her six redheaded raggedy Ann dolls stacked at the head of her bed, Tammy under the covers, her red hair a backdrop for the dolls.

Pushing the door open, she stepped to the end of the bed.

"I thought you'd never get rid of them," Tammy said, "My friends and I were about to fall asleep."

"But I thought-"

"No. I didn't. I'm still here. The Captain managed to convince Mr. Thompson, my HR director back in New York, that between convalescence and helping you," Tammy shoved half the Raggedy Ann's off the bed "I'd need at least three more weeks. When the Captain explained the highlights of the past week and pointed out that he should watch CNN more often, Mr. Thompson said to tell me not to worry."




The Entity Pt. 10



Stepping around the bed Linda raked the rest of the Raggedy Ann's off and spoke, her voice low, almost a whisper, "Is this when we have the talk?"

Pushing the blanket and sheet back, Tammy patted the bed and smiled.

Pushing her jeans down, Linda said, "You know? I don't recall my Raggedy Ann's ever inviting me to bed." Her hands worked their way up the buttons on her blouse.

"Yeah. I noticed you had a thing for redheads."

Leaving her socks on, a wide elastic athletic band cut a swath from just below her breasts to just above her naval; Linda climbed onto the bed and slid in beside Tammy.

"And my Raggedy Ann's were always dressed," Linda accented the observation with a goofy smile.

Tammy rolled and pressed her forehead into Linda's. The tears belied her smile. Finally she whispered, "I'm sorry. I told myself not to cry. I don't know how to explain it. I was dead. I knew it. And then you came," her voice trailed off and their embrace relaxed, becoming comfortable and familiar.

"I told Allessandra you would come. And then you did. And then it was all okay again." Tammy started to sob.

Their lips brushed and Linda said, "Its okay, Tam, it all worked out."

The silence hung comfortably as they lay in each other's arms. Tammy finally sniffled and asked, "Are we going to be a cliché?"

Linda smiled and Tammy's finger came up to trace her mouth. 

Pushing back, Linda asked, "Are you just one of those bi-curious girls looking for a wild fling to tell your friends back in New York about?" 

Tammy kissed Linda gently and said, "I bet you're sore all over."

Smiling, Linda brought her hand up, her fingers tracing Tammy's jaw before sliding down her neck, "We both need to get some rest."

"Sorry to ask, but do you mind leaving the light on?"

"Sure, Tam."

Tammy pecked Linda's lips and rolled away. Linda followed, their bodies pressed together beneath the sheet.

"By the way, how did you get my Raggedy Ann's?"

"I called your mother and asked her to bring them."

Linda smiled, "So you discovered she speaks English."

Tammy didn't respond but reached behind her fishing for Linda's hand. Pulling it around her waist she whispered, "I'm not bi-curious," pressing Linda's palm out flat over her belly button, she continued, "I'm, Linda, curious."

Linda moved against Tammy's back and their downy blanket of silence closed over them once again.

*****

Teddy watched as Beth updated Thomas' scan one last time. She didn't want to lose the last two days. Hers was updated first.

She'd contemplated putting a stop to upcoming events. Just enjoying that elusive moment she'd never had with her father. But then, what she considered the voice of reason had brought things into perspective. Six more months and you can have the world too. This is just love. 

"When do we leave?" Beth asked as she watched over the program.

"One final meeting tomorrow, confirmation, and we should be out of here by midnight. We received word today, from our contact, that the ICB and the FBI will be visiting us in three days."

Nothing else was said. Beth retrieved the halo, packed her equipment, and was gone.

Teddy slid between the sheets and looked one last time at her wedding band and diamond.

She kissed Robert's cheek and whispered, "Thank you father."

Please be sure to take the time to vote and comment. I hope you're enjoying the story as much as I enjoyed writing it. Much more to come. BTW – This is a sequel to The Sentinel. 



The Entity Pt. 11



This is the story of love lost, love explored, and love found in a place least expected. All is now revealed. Yes, this is the end of the story. Hope you enjoyed it. JPM 

Chapter 30

Tammy blushed and let go of Linda's hand as Mr. and Mrs. Woo walked into the restaurant, waving as they headed for the table.

Linda immediately reached down and brought Tammy's hand back to the top of the table, squeezed gently, and continued holding on.

"How are you two this morning?"

Mr. Woo pulled out Mrs. Woo's chair while Linda answered, "Good, mom. We slept well."

Mr. Woo waved a waiter over and Linda finally released Tammy's hand to read the menu.

Tammy fidgeted and squirmed behind her menu. What was she doing? They'd awoke in almost the same position they'd fallen asleep in, Linda wrapped like a warm comforter against her back.

In the shower, she'd finally seen the full extent of Linda's wounds. Large bruises that were starting to turn green and yellow at the center. She washed them gently and kissed each one while listening to Linda's recount of her climb, passing out and coming to, to almost roll over the edge again.

She'd helped put the tight wrap back in place and pull up Linda's jeans. "It hurts too much. And maybe you can pull this top over my head."

She had. And Linda had looked at the cuts and bruises on her wrists, kissing each.

"Tammy," Linda whispered.

Popping out from behind the menu she looked at Linda, who nodded toward her mom, and said, "I'm sorry, Mrs. Woo, what did you say?"

Mrs. Woo smiled and said again, "Linda, say's you work in New York. Will you be able to relocate out here with your company?"

She looked from Mrs. Woo, to Mr. Woo, both of them smiling, waiting for an answer. Finally she glanced at Linda and saw she was laughing behind her menu.

"Oh! Right. That's an idea." She sounded like she couldn't imagine why Mrs. Woo would expect her to be moving to California.

Linda finally emerged and announced she was ready to order, her hand finding Tammy's again, pulling it back up on the table.

Mr. Woo waved the waiter over and he arrived just as Mrs. Woo said, "But long distance relationships are so difficult, dear. It would be such a waste of time," consulting her menu once more she turned to the waiter and ordered.

Linda had slid behind her menu once more and Tammy could feel a flush rush up her neck.

"And besides, life is entirely too short to spend it on airplanes, jetting back and forth," Mr. Woo added.

When Tammy squeezed Linda's hand, it wasn't soft and gentle. Putting a serious face on, Linda's menu came down and she said something in Japanese.

Mrs. Woo immediately commented on how good the coffee was and Mr. Woo concurred, both still smiling sheepishly.

They chatted through out lunch, Tammy talking about her job, Linda's parents asking about her family.

Linda walked ahead with her father after paying the bill and Mrs. Woo hooked her arm in Tammy's and leaned in as they walked, "I'm sorry, dear. We didn't mean to upset you. It's just that I haven't seen Linda so happy in a long time, in spite of everything that's been happening. And, well, we could all see it when she brought you to the house," pausing as they negotiated tables, she added, "Besides, as you seemed to have noticed, she's been sleeping with a redhead as long as I can recall."

When they finally caught up with Linda and her father, Linda was truly concerned and asked, "Tammy! Are you okay? Maybe you need to take one of your pills. You look so flushed."

"Right," Tammy stage whispered, "as if you wouldn't know."

"Oh!" Mr. Woo steered the conversation in another direction, "The Captain has invited us to stay for the ceremony this Saturday, guests of the ICB. Isn't that great?"

"Sure, dad," Linda suddenly wanted to be alone with Tammy and talk, "Then we should have dinner. Maybe tomorrow night. Would that be okay?"

"Sure. We'll call you two. We're going to rent a car today and take in the sights."

Goodbyes were said and in spite of the way things had gone Tammy lingered and decided again how much she enjoyed the Woo's company.

Linda had her arm around Tammy, her thumb hooked in the back of her jeans as they walked to the front of the hotel to get a cab. "I'm really sorry, Tammy. I had no idea."

Tammy leaned in and said, "Its okay. I mean, it just took me by surprise."

A cab appeared and Linda gave the destination, "Pier 39."

The sun was bright, colors brighter, and white fluffy clouds floated like a flock of sheep out over the ocean.

Tammy stood in wonder while Linda paid the cab and listened to a loud barking noise that seemed to come from the general direction of the water. Linda took her hand and pulled, explaining, "It's the sea lions. They come out and sun on wooden floats around the pier."

Negotiating families and street actors they finally found the source. Tammy just stared at the small wooden islands covered, edge to edge, with mounds of brown and black fur.

"It's amazing!"

"There's a bunch of shops here, too," Linda pulled and they wandered among the shops and restaurants.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, Red."

"Well, I mean," Tammy seemed a little lost so Linda offered a word, "Why?"

"Yeah. Why? Why a woman? Why me?"

They were at a corner stand that sold silver from Mexico. Taxco Jewelers, named after the small colonial town in Mexico where the Spanish set up one of their largest silver mining operations just after the conquest, had small spinning racks of .926 silver rings, bracelets, ear rings, and any other silver accessory you could want.

Stepping to one of the racks, Linda spun it idly, stopping to inspect a particular piece before continuing.

"Well, the question would be 'Why you'. It has nothing to do with men and women. It has to do with people," she pulled a small card off the rack and inspected the design, "Remember that fist night when I picked you up at the airport?"

"Right. You had me stuck in some little room like a Russian refugee."

"Yeah," Linda smiled, "Then I took you home and didn't talk to you?"

"I should have figured it out then. You're a bitch."

Linda was paying the clerk for something and finally pulled Tammy back into the sun. "Then in the kitchen you finally called my hand and stopped me. Made me explain."

Tammy just nodded as they continued exploring the pier.

"Well, I didn't talk during the ride because I couldn't. And when we got to my apartment I wasn't sure what I was going to do. That's why I just kept jabbering about the ICB, why you were here, who actually sent you."

Tammy laughed at the memory.

"And you remember in the car, I told you I wasn't letting you out of my sight? That you were going to stay with me until the case was solved"

Tammy pulled up short, their arms pulling up between them until Linda finally had to let go or stop.

Stopping, she turned back toward Tammy and confessed, "It wasn't really a case of not letting you out of my sight. It was more a case of not being able to take my eyes off you. It was always about you."

Stepping in, she opened the small bag between them and fished out a small silver ring. Pulling Tammy's hand up, she slipped it on, a perfect fit. "I don't know what we are. And more importantly, I don't know what we will be. I just know I feel complete with you around. I also know I have a hard time keeping my hands off you."

Tammy smiled and said, "Right, I remember. In my room that first night when I was getting ready for bed. Your hand on my back. Well, my naked back."

Linda blushed as Tammy went on, "Of course I protested. I think that was, let me see, two days later." 

They walked on in quiet, hand in hand.

"I'm not gay or anything. I mean, I've never, well, been with another woman, and haven't been prowling around looking for one. I had, Michael. He was going to ask me to marry him and I can assure you, I was going to say yes."

"No. Me either. Well, except for that drunken night at the frat house. But I don't remember anything, so I don't think that counts."

"So that makes us both," Linda smiled lasciviously, "virgins!"

They laughed and Tammy snaked her arm around Linda's waist pulling her close. She spoke hesitantly, "Right. Look, Linda, I know we've snuggled and touched," she paused, "and you're the best kisser I've ever known." They walked a few more steps and she finally said, "But I have to be honest. I don't know what I'll do when we, well, you know. What if I can't?"

"Then you won't," Linda started steering Tammy away from the shops and back to the street. It was getting windy and her side was starting to throb. "If you don't want to, you won't. But did you really want to kiss me?"

Tammy felt flush and answered, "I never didn't want to kiss you. But it did take a while for me to enjoy it."

"Just one thing, Red. When we finally, well, do it, if you discover you really want to, but don't know how, just do it."

Standing on the sidewalk by a parking meter, waiting for a taxi to drive by, Tammy looked down at the pier one last time, the crowd of people milling around, then looked over Linda's shoulder at more people coming and going, no one really paying attention. Then she looked at Linda and pulled her close, her lips parted slightly, her hand moved up to the back of Linda's head pulling their mouths together, and kissed her passionately. Breaking the kiss, she stepped back a little, Linda still standing still, her wet swollen lips forming an O and her eyes still closed.

"You mean like that?" Tammy whispered.

*****

"Is that it?"

"I think so. Really, I don't have much," Thomas answered.

"Okay, the shipping company will be here shortly."

He looked in amazement at all the boxes, suitcases and a few crates. He recalled stories of ocean crossings during the heyday of the luxury liner's when families would travel with trunks and trunks of belongings, two or three servants and a safe full of money and jewels.

To him a trip to anyplace in the world was just a matter of meeting the airline number and weight limit for luggage, dragging a carryon around the airport, getting out your passport and going.

He had to admit, it wasn't a bad way to travel. Shipping your personal belongings before hand made airport time much less complicated.

"And when are you going to tell me where we're going?"

Teddy smiled and placed a forefinger on his lips, "It's a surprise, silly."

Thomas smiled and added, "And how long are we staying?"

This time she laughed and said in a low, husky voice, "As long as we want. Or as long as you hold up," her eyes beamed, "Whichever comes first."

He just smiled and watched a Pond Transport truck pull up at the bottom of the stairs.

Sarcastically, he said, "But wait, you forgot the bed. And what about the rest of the furniture in your apartment?"

He was surprised when Teddy turned and said, "Don't worry, that all goes later tonight."

*****

Scanner Bob wasn't feeling much pain but his mind still managed to string a few ideas and thoughts together as he lay chained to a hospital bed, two uniformed police officer's sitting just to the inside of his hospital room door, one reading the paper, the other picking his teeth idly with a wooden toothpick.

His free hand pushed around under the blanket again and probed his crotch.

The tooth picking officer took note and watched his prisoner's expression change to one of astonishment. He finally decided it was time to bring Robert Nunn, number 7338423, up to speed.

"What ya lookin' for there, Bob?"

Bob just looked up, astonishment turning to horror.

"Oh! That! Right! Well, there was a little problem with that. It seems there wasn't much left to save by the time they got you here. And they had to get the bleeding stopped and all. You should have seen the blood, Bob!"

Bob just stared at the officer as his hand finally managed to get under his hospital gown, his fingers confirming what he was about to hear.

"You see, Bob, your scrotum was just blown all to hell. They couldn't even find your balls," he chuckled at that, his partner joined in, "And it went right through your dick at the base. The doctor said he'd never seen anything like it. Cut it clean off. It was just floating around in your pants leg. Well, what was left of it, anyway. Seems the bullet was a hollow point. You know, Bob, what we call a wad cutter."

Bob continued to stare at the officer as his fingers dug around and discovered a small pad taped between the apex of his thighs, covering the stitches beneath.

"Yeah, I guess you could say," the officer paused and looked at his partner before continuing, "You shot your wad, Bob! Big time!"

"Well, somebody did," his partner added.

With that, Lawrence, Bob's nurse, sashayed in. The very same Lawrence that was quite the hit at one of the local clubs. The very same Lawrence that did a killer lip sink to several of Chers' greatest hits, while prancing around the stage in a silver, sequined, floor length gown, open along each hip, while the crowd went wild.

Peering down at Bob, he daintily pulled the cover and sheet down to his knee's, discovering the hiked hospital gown and Bob's fingers pulling at his gauze pad.

"No! No! No!" Lawrence admonished as he pulled Bob hand away daintily. "None of that, now. We don't want an infection. If you get an infection, they'll have to delay the reconstructive surgery. You don't want that do you?" Pausing for a beat, he added, "Not much to reconstruct, though," catching Bob's eye he continued, "Maybe they'll just make the, ah, hole a little bigger."

Pulling the cover and sheet back up, Lawrence took advantage of the moment and stuck a thermometer in Bob's open mouth, pushing his chin up with his manicured fingers.

Taking Bob's pulse, he said, "I tell ya, sweetie, you gotta tell me how you did that. I mean, did it hurt much?" Not receiving an answer, he continued, "Hey! What the heck. No pain, no gain, right, Mr. Nunn?"

Lawrence knew exactly who he was talking to when he stopped at the door, on his way out and said, "Or would that be, Mrs. Nunn?"

Tooth pick and newspaper roared with laughter.

*****

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I, Woo?"

Linda squirmed as Tammy sucked gently once more before releasing the small nub and blew gently. Her nipple came out bright red and swollen.

"Ah! Right! I mean, no, Captain, you aren't."

"So, Woo, have you been resting?" the Captain sounded like he was in a good mood.

Tammy's tongue found her belly button and Linda stifled a giggle. "Yes, we have been, Captain," quickly adding, "And why didn't you tell me?"

The Captain chuckled, "I was sworn to secrecy. Listen, I called to talk about this Saturdy. The ceremony is at five in the afternoon, City Hall. The Mayor wants to make the six o' clock news."

This time she stifled a sigh as Tammy's finger played between her thighs, sliding and pressing.

"Right. Five. City Hall. Anything else, Captain?" Linda just wanted to get off the phone as she watched Tammy's head slide lower.

"Well, I was talking to Jim over at the federal prosecutor's office, and he's trying to move up the visit to Waverly Hills. We might get to go tomorrow."

She sucked in breath as Tammy nudged gently with her palm, urging her thighs apart.

"Hey, that's great, Captain. Maybe we can-"

"Yeah, it is. If he can pull it off, we're taking a bus down to Los Angeles, full forensics..."

She bit her bottom lip when Tammy shifted, her head sliding down further while a finger gently imposed itself into her most private place.

"You know, Captain, I'm really tired. We're going to bed now. Wait, I mean I'm going to get laid now! Wait, I mean, I'm going to make out now. I mean take my makeup off and go down now..."

"Woo!" the Captain finally got her attention.

Tammy looked up from between her legs, eyes smiling mischievously and whispered, "I didn't know this was a ménage a trios. Who invited the, Captain?" 

Before the Captain could say anything else, Linda practically yelled, "I'll check in tomorrow morning, Captain," and clicked the phone off, setting it back on the nightstand.

Twisting her fingers in Tammy's hair, she moaned and shoved down trying to adjust the position of Tammy's tongue. Through gritted teeth, she said "What was all this shit about not knowing if you could or not?"

Stopping, Tammy looked up, her lips wet and swollen, a goofy grin played out, "But you said to just do it if I really wanted to."

Linda froze mid moan when the phone rang again. Grabbing it, she punched the answer button violently and yelled, "What?"

Tammy watched along Linda's stomach and listened, while her tongue explored, finally finding what she was looking for. She sucked gently until Linda's eyes rolled and thighs pulled together, covering her ears.

"What, dad? No! No, I'm not mad! Well, I guess I'm just tired. Tammy?" Linda shifted and her thighs opened again, "I don't know, dad. She's around her somewhere. Bed I think. I think she was tired too."

Linda was fighting to control herself and continued to yell into the phone. "When? Saturday night? After the ceremony?" Untangling her hand from Tammy's hair, she covered the phone and hissed, "Will you just wait a minute?"

Tammy pushed her fingers deeper and sucked harder. Linda rolled her eyes again and answered her father, "Sure, dad! That sounds great! Me? I'm going to get laid down, dad! What? Oh! I meant I'm going to lie down. Right dad, I'll call you tomorrow. Get mom high, dad! What? Oh! Then say hi to mom."

Punching the phone off, Linda punched it back on, listened for a dial tone and threw it into the stack of Raggedy Ann's beside the bed.

"Damn!" Her hand went back to the top of Tammy's head as she sucked air between her teeth. 













Chapter 31

Tammy leaned over the edge of the bed and felt around until she found Linda's purse. Digging around in the dark, she finally found the small silver intrusion. Not thinking, she flipped it open and said, "Hello?"

Pulling back onto the bed, she nudged Linda and finally said loudly, "Linda. Sweetie. It's the, Captain."

Eyes open but not awake, Linda took the phone and said, "Not right now," and promptly folded the phone shut, throwing it into the pile of Raggedy Ann's along with the other.

Tammy watched her roll over and go back to sleep, smacking her lips and mumbling something that included Red and Yes.

Leaning close, Tammy found a spot not covered by a tangle of black hair and kissed. Moving around her cheek, she continued to kiss until Linda kissed back, moaning, "You're insatiable, Red."

"I guess I am, but that's not why I'm waking you up. You just hung up on the, Captain. I think it may have been important."

Jerking up in bed, Linda turned on the bedside lamp and searched for the phone. Tammy pointed at the pile of Raggedy Ann's, "You threw BOTH of them in there."

"Shit!" Pulling a phone out of the pile, she dialed the office. "Right. Yeah. No. What time is it, anyway? Okay, I will."

Running naked from the room, Linda found the remote and clicked on the television. Tammy curled up beside her on the couch just as she found CNN.

A newscaster stood in front of an iron gate, his hair wind blown as he explained the scene.

It happened just after one in the morning. They haven't determined if the helicopter crashed into the building, or if it had already landed on the helipad on the roof, and the building blew up. Either way, the clinic contained several tanks of oxygen, and other flammable materials and as you can see...

The scene changed to a wide shot of a bent and broken building, windows charred and broken, the top two floors collapsed completely, with flames still shooting into the early morning sky.




The Entity Pt. 11



...the fire continues to burn here at the Waverly Hills Clinic in Los Angeles. Interestingly, the very clinic democratic presidential hopeful, Arthur Wright, visited less than a week ago. 

One neighbor, awakened by the helicopter, says he watched from his kitchen window as the craft lowered onto the roof of the building, when a big explosion came up from below. He insists the helicopter didn't blow up...

*****

Linda kicked the charred wood and looked around. She knew no bodies had been found on this floor, or at least what was left of it, but she thought there might be something. Anything that would give them a clue about, Michael.

The twin Cray's in the basement were a total loss just like everything else in the building. The forensic team from ICB was pulling the storage units to see what they could find in their lab.

The fire marshal was convinced it was arson. ATF people were all over the place scraping soot samples off different surfaces, closing them up in small sample bags, and marking their location on the white label area with red markers.

Air and transportation people were waiting on the ground to start pulling parts of the Bell helicopter out of the building. Reconstruction would be done at an abandoned air force hanger to the east.

LAPD was consigned to the perimeter keeping the media and rubber-neckers out.

"What's this?"

Linda turned and saw Tammy stooped over what looked like a cracked piece of marble, un-burnt wood beneath it. Pushing her hand under the marble, she finally snagged the silver object that had caught her attention.

Linda looked at it as Tammy turned it over and finally said, "Camera. It used to be a digital camera." Taking it from Tammy, she dropped it into a black plastic bag she carried for any electronic evidence they might find.

Lifting the marble with the toe of her hiking boot, she spied something else. Kicking the broken stone to the side she stooped and picked up the small, square, metal box. Flipping it open, Tammy watched as she quickly flipped it shut and stuffed it into her pants pocket, instead of an evidence bag.

*****

It was after two in the morning when the Captain assembled the electronic forensic people in the ready room along with Tom, Linda, Tammy, and a few other hangers on.

"Okay, people. Let's see what we have." Signaling to someone in the back, the lights dimmed and a projection from some forensic guy's laptop lit up the whiteboard at the front of the room.

Tom took the podium and started explaining as bits and pieces of information flashed on the screen.

"Apparently the Cray storage units were formatted and wiped before the explosion. This in itself says a lot. Why would you format and wipe your information storage center?

"We did find a small server in one of the apartments in the residence area where the staff lived."

Suddenly lines of code started scrolling across the screen.

"Programmer notes found correspond with notes sent to us by the Entity several days ago. This room was determined to belong to Gerald, probably a principle programmer. His body was found in the rubble of his room.

"We also recovered a digital camera. The camera itself was a melt down but we were able to recover one photo from the memory card."

The color photo of a man, taken at close range, as if he'd tried to take a self portrait at arms length, or the camera had gone off accidentally, came up on the white board.

The shot was blurry, just the neck and head, of a black haired man. His hair was mussed and he was smiling. You couldn't tell the color of his eyes due to severe redeye from the flash.

Linda studied the photo intently, knowing she'd seen him before.

"That's it. We will be picking up on this Monday."

"Okay, people," the Captain barked, "That's it. And don't forget, we all have an appointment at City Hall at five later today when Mayor Rodriguez will be recognizing one of our own."

The room broke into a small round of applause before everyone started clearing out.

"Woo! Spalding! I want to see both of you in my office. Now!"

Tom followed them in carrying a folded laptop. Pointing at the two chairs, the Captain took the computer, flipped it open and pressed a few keys.

"I didn't want to show this in the ready room with everyone else present. You'll understand why in a minute."

Turning the machine around, Tammy gasped when she saw herself naked on an antique wooden bed smiling for the camera. Raising her hand as if to touch the image she said, "But how?"

Linda just stared as Tom reached over and hit the space bar, the next photo coming up.

There were five in all. Tom said, "Pay attention to this last one, Linda." Hitting the space bar, a close-up of a woman's hand came up centered on a diamond ring resting firmly on her ring finger. Linda gasped when she saw the stone. Holding her own hand up in front of the screen she finally said, "I don't believe it."

"Yeah. Tom, noticed the ring. He'd seen you wearing one just like it."

"But who is she?" Tammy finally managed.

Flipping back through the pictures, Tom said, "Well, if you look closely, you'll notice she's not as old as you. I put her about five or six years younger. Also, the freckle pattern isn't the same." Flipping to the next, he continued, "But the hair color is identical. Facial features are the same. Even hand size and shape is the same."

"But who the hell is she?" Tammy reiterated.

"Well," Tom began, "we don't know exactly who she is, but I can guarantee she's related to you."

"But that can't be. I'm the last of the redheads in the family. All my cousins are brunettes."

"Well, here's one more thing." Tom flipped forward to another picture they hadn't seen. An ear appeared in close-up. Tom walked around and pulled Tammy's hair back on one side. "This is in no way conclusive, but if you look at the shape and form of the ear, Linda, and look at Tammy's its almost identical.

"None of this is conclusive but the FBI would like to take a DNA swab to check against the bodies found at the scene."

Tammy just looked from one to the other and finally said, "Sure."

*****

Mayor Rodriguez beamed as he handed the small, open case to Linda. "Once again, San Francisco wants to thank the ICB, and more specifically you, Linda Woo, for your courage and perseverance in saving one of the city's citizens, saving a visitor to our fair town, and solving one of the most gruesome crimes we've had in a long time."

A large crowd was gathered on the steps, and sidewalk in front of City Hall. Both local and national TV had camera crews and reporters on hand and Tammy was the first to start clapping. Bringing her fingers up, she whistled like a longshoreman and whooped. Raising a fist she hollered, "That's my girl!"

Linda thanked the city and pointed out that she had only been doing her job. Anyone else would have done the same.

Finally finished with the handshakes and the press, Linda was able to make her way through the crowd and found Tammy sitting on a park bench across the street.

"I wanna see it!"

Handing the box over, Linda said it was all bullshit but blushed when Tammy said, "Way to go girl!"

"Can we get out of here now? My side is starting to hurt again."

"Sure. Do you want to stay home tonight? We can beg off with your parents and I can kiss it and make it all better."

Linda laughed, "I'm glad to see you've overcome your concerns about, well, you know."

Tammy grabbed her upper arm and leaned in to kiss her cheek and whispered, "Well, that's just it. I think we need to investigate, make sure it hasn't returned or anything."

"Hey, Slick! Congrats!" Tom and Mary were all smiles.

"Hey, Tom. Mary, this is, Tammy Spalding. Tammy, this is Tom's wife, Mary." They shook hands and everyone just stood around for a minute talking about the ceremony.

Sliding her hand around Tammy's waist, Linda said, "Hey, Mary, my parents are having a small celebration tonight. Food, wine and dancing. You and Tom want to come along?"

"Sure! I haven't been able to get him out of the house for over a year..." her voice trailed off when she realized the last time they'd gone out dancing, it had been with Michael and Linda.

"Great! We'll see you there. Our seating is at 9:30 in the wine cellar. My father has hired a piano and singer. Oh, and its long dress and dark suit. Masa's on Nob Hill. Can you still make it?"

"Sure we can. We'll see you there."

*****

They'd called Allessandra from the airport before leaving Los Angeles to see how she was doing. Fine, she'd said, but didn't sound convincing. Tammy invited her to the celebration dinner and she declined. "I think I need to pay penance a while longer."

"And what are you doing? I mean, are you going to go back to work?"

There'd been a long silence, then, "Well, I can't just mope around the house. But I'm thinking a dress maker's shop might be better. Maybe I can pick up some of the Hollywood trade."

"Hey, that sounds great! Come to think of it, do you feel like doing a rush job?"

Linda and Tammy now stood on the front stoop of the building where Linda lived in Allessandra's creations. Her father had been ready with the camera and demanded they pose.

Linda wore a straight cut, black lace on black satin, full length gown with small silver beads of different sizes sewn throughout the fabric. High neck and back, to keep her bruises and elastic wrap under cover. Black satin heels and a small black beaded purse completed the look.

Tammy stood beside her in an emerald green lace on matching satin, the same color as her eyes. It was Full length with small silver beads that matched Linda's and a slit up one side to her hip. Unlike Linda's dress, the front and back plunged almost to the point of indecency. Matching emerald green satin heels and a small matching bag completed the outfit.

"You look like such a slut," Linda teased as another picture was taken.

Tammy leaned in and whispered, "You look ravishing."

"Is that a promise?" 

Linda's shiny black hair was pulled up tight into a knot, two small, red enamel sticks poking through at odd angles holding it on top of her head. Tammy's Ferrari red locks flowed down the bare skin of her back in a wide French braid.

Looking through the lens, Mr. Woo tightened up the shot framing their head and shoulders and snapped again. "Come on you two. I thought you were friends."

With that, they both smiled and Linda hooked her arm around Tammy, pulling her close. Another snap and Mr. Woo said, "That's it? People get friendlier than that on the trolley cars."

Linda admonished, "Dad!" and laughed into the camera, just as Tammy turned, leaned in closing her eyes and left very noticeable red lip marks on Linda's cheek. Snap!

"Perfect!"

The meal was wonderful. A six serving sampler of the best Masa's chef's could offer. A piano played and a lithe, curly headed brunette, sang requests, mostly for Mr. and Mrs. Woo.

"I have a gift for you."

Looking across the table Tammy smiled in anticipation. Setting a thin, metal box with Macy's in small gold letters on the top.

Tammy lifted the delicate bangle bracelet from the box and turned it in her fingers. Small round and baguette cut diamonds caught the candle light.

"Macy's was just around the corner from the hotel in Chicago," Linda hesitated, "You were mad when you left and I wanted to say I was sorry."

Tammy slipped it on her wrist and held her hand up to admire it. Reaching across the table, her hand found Linda's and nothing was said.

Several bottles of wine had been sampled from the 900 bottle wine cellar and the mood was warm and relaxing.

The Woo's had taken several spins on the small parquet dance floor, Tom and Mary, and Ben and his latest, as well. Ben finally pulled a protesting Tammy to the dance floor and they tried to do a Charleston to an old Glen Miller tune. It ended in more laughs than dancing. Tom drug Linda to the floor as well and tried a samba, which eventually turned into a snake dance, the entire table falling in to swing their hips.

Linda and Tammy chatted with everyone but each other, however, warm smiles and furtive glances flowed freely.

Finally, the candles were burning low and the waiters were emptying the last of the wine into everyone's glasses when Linda went up and whispered to the singer. She seemed to insist a little on some point before stepping back to the table, standing beside Tammy's chair, hand out in invitation.

Tammy blushed when she looked around the table to find they were the center of attention. Finally, a waiter stepped to her chair and stood, ready to pull it out. Taking Linda's hand, she followed her to the dance floor. The music started and there was a quick moment of confusion as they decided how their hands should go. Their bodies swayed gently as the singer started.





The Entity Pt. 11



"Yes, of course. It was all slated to go to charities."

Tammy finally found her voice, "Let me get this straight. I have a billion dollars. In cash. In a bank."

"No, no, no."

"Phew, you almost gave me a heart attack," Tammy laughed nervously.

"No, you won't have it in the bank until you give us your account information. Actually, we have a small team here that specializes in where to put it. They'll be more than happy to help you out. All that might take three days. In the mean time, if you need some money, we can get you some."

Tammy fidgeted and asked, "So if I want, say, ten thousand dollars, you can just give it to me?"

"In cash, I can give you up to one hundred thousand, but I don't recommend it. We can deposit a million or so right into some checking account you might already have. Then we can open your other accounts and get things buttoned up in three days."

"Oh! Right! How silly of me. Everything needs to be buttoned up first. Right," Tammy pushed away from the table and asked, "Do you have a restroom?"

A muffled yell could be heard somewhere in the building and Mr. Lindsay said, "That happens sometimes. I'm sure she's just fine."

When Tammy returned, Mr. Lindsay pushed a leather pouch across the table. Inside were four sets of keys. "Those are keys to four properties. One in Chicago, another in Manhattan, a fourth in Florida, and this one," he picked a set up and dangled them, "is a small estate in Los Angeles."

"Small estate," echoed Tammy.

"Yes, those are the US properties. There are another seven around the world."

"Another seven," Tammy's voice seemed to get smaller each time she spoke.

"So that's it for now. It would be great if you could make an appointment for tomorrow morning and we'll get started."

"Right. Tomorrow morning. Let's get started," Tammy's voice had almost disappeared.

Linda held Tammy firmly around the waist as they stepped from the office to a limousine that was waiting for them, "Our driver will take you wherever you want to go."

Falling back in the seat, they both just stared at each other. Tammy ran a finger over the leather seat and mahogany trim of the car and flipped through the 3 X 5 cards she'd been given. Handing it to Linda, she said, "See if he'll take us there."

*****

The long black car slid through the gates of the estate and they both looked out the window in wonder. The lawn would put any golf course to shame, palm trees towered along the drive, and the house couldn't be seen.

Another five minutes and they were sitting in front of an enormous mansion.

"This must be it," Tammy said with more than a little trepidation.

"Must be," Linda answered in awe.

A small wrinkled Mexican woman met them at the door. "You must be Miss Spalding. They called from the lawyer's office a week ago and said you might be coming by. I'm Guadalupe; you can call me, Lupe."

She must have been over eighty but was very happy to have them. Still spry, she led them through the enormous house, showing off the rooms and giving the history.

"This was Miss Miller's bedroom. My mother was her personal servant when they were here. Then they just left, went to Mexico, and we didn't see them much."

Linda pulled Tammy's arm and pointed at the portrait above the mantle. A very young Theodora smiled down on them. Tammy was shocked at the resemblance.

"That could be you," Linda whispered.

Stepping out of the room, they followed Lupe down the long balcony that opened onto the foyer and stopped at another door. One with a small crystal door knob like the rest of the doors in the house.

"This was Mr. Miller's study."

Tammy walked around the room, running her fingers across the desk, and sitting in the barrister's chair. "Lupe, we're kind of hungry. Can we get something to eat?"

"Oh! Why yes, give me thirty minutes. I'll be in the kitchen." She hurried off leaving Linda and Tammy alone.

"This is it," Tammy's voice was low but firm.
Linda walked to a window and looked across the back lawn, down to the beach and ocean. She noticed a gardener trimming some bushes, his wheel barrel off to the side.

"This is where it all started. This is what killed, Michael," Tammy sounded sad and out of sorts.

Linda walked over and leaned on the desk looking down at Tammy; her fingers came up and raked the red locks behind an ear, "You may be right. In fact, I'm sure you are," leaning down, she kissed Tammy on the forehead, "But it also brought you to me." 

Epilogue

Two months later, a small group of four sat in a private room at the back of one of Buenos Aires' best and most exclusive restaurants.

Waiters fussed and served, the Capitán was at hand to make sure all went well. Although American, he'd grown fond of the small group the last few weeks. They seemed very cosmopolitan. Not like the normal tennis shoe clad Americanos that usually dropped in.

Tonight seemed to be a particularly important evening with the two gentlemen dressed in black tie and tux, the women, twins actually, in revealing full length evening gowns.

It was hard to pull his eyes away. The cream colored satin dresses with revealing slits under the arms, which showed a flash of pink now and then.

The identical pattern to their cinnamon sprinkles across their backs. And their hair. The Capitan shuddered when he looked at the rich red color of their hair and lovely emerald green eyes.

He thought it odd that they would come in such finery to dine and watch TV but then it was an important night in the United States of America. Today had been Election Day, and tonight, as the small troop dined and chatted, CNN gave constant return updates.

He had no idea why they continued to watch. The democrat seemed to be the clear winner with more than seventy percent of the votes but they tipped very well and always in dollars. Let them have their fun, he thought.

Checking glasses and waving a bus boy over to clear a final plate, the Capitán was stunned, when a tall, grey haired man came on camera and started speaking. Then he understood! He suddenly wondered if he should address the man at his table as your highness or something similar. He puffed his chest and walked to the wine bottle, picking it up he walked to the gray haired man and offered to refill his glass. Turning the bottle to keep the small drop from falling onto the table cloth, he leaned in and said in heavily accented English, "Congratulations, Sir. You must be very proud to see your twin brother has won the presidency."

The entire table stopped, their faces frozen as realization dawned, picked up their glasses and said, "Salud!" 

Leaning to his right, addressing one of the redhead's, the Doctor said, "You are absolutely ravishing tonight, Beth. I think the change did you well."

"I'm glad you think so, dear. It was the only female body we had here at our laboratory. A spare for Theodora."

"And who would you like to be next time? You really should think about it so we can start growing the next batch."

Bringing her hand up to his chin, she said, "Really, it's up to you, dear. As long as it isn't, Marilyn Monro."

Sitting at the Doctor's left hand, Teddy said, "I'm dieing to get Thomas back but I think we have to wait until we make the switch."

"I know dear. All in due time. We have it scheduled for December. Christmas week, actually. Beth should have everything ready by then."

She glanced across the table at Rudolph, who was no longer a portly seventy-eight-year-old; rather an equally portly twenty seven year old. Her gaze moved across to Beth who was now her twin and said, "I do have a small problem, Doctor," she paused and smiled demurely, her gaze settling on the Doctor, "I can't go to Thomas' bed a virgin again. I wondered if you could, ah, help me out with something.

The Doctor chuckled and took Teddy's hand, "Always the pragmatist. That's why we work so well together."

Leaning closer she whispered in a husky, intimate voice, "And what do you think, Mr. President?"

The Doctor just turned and looked; Beth leaned across his chest to listen as well.

"Well, would it really be incest if Beth joined us?" 

The End

 I hope you're enjoyed the story as much as I enjoyed writing it. BTW – This is a sequel to The Sentinel. Thanks for all the votes and comments. JPM