hadn’t seen the movie was Sherry’s concern about the amount of nudity, especially by the famous female star. Doug had agreed that it was best not to expose themselves to that, but now he held the remote in hand, wavering.
The movie had been wildly popular at the box office, and he’d talked to several friends from church who had liked it. One of the men had even joked about how hot the actress’s love scenes were.
I wonder what she looks like naked? Nah, I shouldn’t
.
He pointed the remote at the television and changed to a sports channel, watching the evening’s NBA highlights, then the hockey scores. Yes! The Red Wings won again. He grinned. You can take the guy out of Michigan, but you can’t takeMichigan out of the guy. When a commercial came on, he changed the channel again.
It’s been fifteen minutes, I wonder if one of those scenes is on yet
.
Doug wavered, then clicked back to the original channel. The famous actress was giving the newcomer-hunk star a slow backrub. What timing.
He sank back into the pillows behind him and settled in for the rest of the movie. After all, it was only R-rated; how bad could it really be?
E IGHT
T he palm trees swayed overhead as Tyson settled back into his beach chair.
He let out a satisfied sigh.
One of the others chuckled, a tall beer in his hand. “Sure beats that warehouse in Atlanta.”
Tyson smiled, his eyes closed behind his sunglasses. “Yes, but the warehouse does serve a purpose. We’re sure it’s clean, which your homes and offices may not be. However, there’s always the chance that one of the larger group would stumble into something if we were nearby. I think it’s safe to set up the staff in the building, but I don’t want the principals there. I figured if we had to meet off site, it might as well be offshore. No American police here.”
“Any police at all?”
“Only those loyal to us. We pay them more than the local government does.” He shrugged. “And since the local government wants our business, they’re willing to see nothing, hear nothing, and conveniently forget our presence when working with the state department. And if they don’t want to forget, then the fish get another meal.”
He paused. “After lunch we have some business to attend to. I need to brief you on my last instructions from Proxy. He has an ‘in’ to a top defense manufacturer. We’ve already got one likely target in the works, so we need to analyze their product lines and prioritize our opportunities.”
He looked beyond the circle, catching sight of his local chief of staff hovering nearby. “Ah, Manuel, lunch is ready?”
The little group relaxed through a leisurely lunch, served to them on the beach by the local discreet staff. One of the young women—no more than sixteen—had smooth bronze skin and long hair falling to her waist.
At the end of lunch, Tyson pulled the chief of staff aside and whispered something. A few minutes later, Tyson watched as Manuel approached the girl and spoke in low tones. There was some sort of an argument. When she tried to jerk away, the man grabbed her arm. The girl began to cry, and she was yanked inside a small hut, out of sight.
A smile played on Tyson’s lips. The others would like this impromptu show. And if they were pleased with her, with what came after.
“No … no … don’t. Please … you can’t.…”
Ronnie thrashed in bed, whimpering, her eyelids flickering. She curled up into a tight ball against the images that played in her mind. It never worked. She could always feel the groping hands, the secret shame.
If she told, he would take her away from her mother. Or she would be put in jail. Or worse would be done to her. Her childhood brain rang with the reasons, all the reasons for her silence.
As always, he stood from her bed and gave her a warning lash—a single lash—from his belt. The first time, she had cried out, and her mother had come running. And had been beaten unconscious.
The movie had been wildly popular at the box office, and he’d talked to several friends from church who had liked it. One of the men had even joked about how hot the actress’s love scenes were.
I wonder what she looks like naked? Nah, I shouldn’t
.
He pointed the remote at the television and changed to a sports channel, watching the evening’s NBA highlights, then the hockey scores. Yes! The Red Wings won again. He grinned. You can take the guy out of Michigan, but you can’t takeMichigan out of the guy. When a commercial came on, he changed the channel again.
It’s been fifteen minutes, I wonder if one of those scenes is on yet
.
Doug wavered, then clicked back to the original channel. The famous actress was giving the newcomer-hunk star a slow backrub. What timing.
He sank back into the pillows behind him and settled in for the rest of the movie. After all, it was only R-rated; how bad could it really be?
E IGHT
T he palm trees swayed overhead as Tyson settled back into his beach chair.
He let out a satisfied sigh.
One of the others chuckled, a tall beer in his hand. “Sure beats that warehouse in Atlanta.”
Tyson smiled, his eyes closed behind his sunglasses. “Yes, but the warehouse does serve a purpose. We’re sure it’s clean, which your homes and offices may not be. However, there’s always the chance that one of the larger group would stumble into something if we were nearby. I think it’s safe to set up the staff in the building, but I don’t want the principals there. I figured if we had to meet off site, it might as well be offshore. No American police here.”
“Any police at all?”
“Only those loyal to us. We pay them more than the local government does.” He shrugged. “And since the local government wants our business, they’re willing to see nothing, hear nothing, and conveniently forget our presence when working with the state department. And if they don’t want to forget, then the fish get another meal.”
He paused. “After lunch we have some business to attend to. I need to brief you on my last instructions from Proxy. He has an ‘in’ to a top defense manufacturer. We’ve already got one likely target in the works, so we need to analyze their product lines and prioritize our opportunities.”
He looked beyond the circle, catching sight of his local chief of staff hovering nearby. “Ah, Manuel, lunch is ready?”
The little group relaxed through a leisurely lunch, served to them on the beach by the local discreet staff. One of the young women—no more than sixteen—had smooth bronze skin and long hair falling to her waist.
At the end of lunch, Tyson pulled the chief of staff aside and whispered something. A few minutes later, Tyson watched as Manuel approached the girl and spoke in low tones. There was some sort of an argument. When she tried to jerk away, the man grabbed her arm. The girl began to cry, and she was yanked inside a small hut, out of sight.
A smile played on Tyson’s lips. The others would like this impromptu show. And if they were pleased with her, with what came after.
“No … no … don’t. Please … you can’t.…”
Ronnie thrashed in bed, whimpering, her eyelids flickering. She curled up into a tight ball against the images that played in her mind. It never worked. She could always feel the groping hands, the secret shame.
If she told, he would take her away from her mother. Or she would be put in jail. Or worse would be done to her. Her childhood brain rang with the reasons, all the reasons for her silence.
As always, he stood from her bed and gave her a warning lash—a single lash—from his belt. The first time, she had cried out, and her mother had come running. And had been beaten unconscious.
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