Fraud: A Stepbrother Romance

by Stephanie Brother

  She was some sword swallower, all right, he thought.

  Another cute young woman, totally nude, swam around the float like a shark, giggling and trying to splash him.

  He frowned at her, and then put down his cigar.

  “Sweety, isn’t it time to powder your nose, again?” he said to his young mermaid.

  She giggled again, then swam to the steps and walked out of the pool room, into an adjacent bedroom.

  When the door had closed, he tapped the girl blowing him on the top of her head. She looked at him with brown eyes, questioningly, as her lips continued their fervent sucking and swallowing of his meat.

  “Honey, I do enjoy this, but, do you mind?” he said, motioning to the room where the other lovely had fled.

  “And take those two with you!” he shouted after her, gesturing to the girls by the bar.

  After all of the women had left the scene, King pushed off the float and stroked over to Tanner.

  “OK, George. What is it?” asked King.

  “I think you need to listen to this,” said Tanner, handing King a small tape recorder.

  King pressed the play button, and used his finger to clear some water from his left ear.

  ““Derek!” came Megan’s voice from the tiny speaker.

  “Hey, sweetheart! I’m down at the Ocean Reef Club and I can’t really talk right now. Is it very important?” responded Derek’s voice.

  King listened carefully to the rest of the conversation.

  “That fucking bitch!” he said to Tanner.

  He threw the tape recorder across the grass lawn, and it came to rest under a round rock.

  “Get that and destroy it,” he said absently, rubbing his balding head.

  “I knew I should have drowned her ass years ago!” King shouted. “Fuck!”

  Tanner waited while King got out of the pool and dried himself.

  King went to the bar, and extracted a fine Cuban cigar. He sat down, and cut the end off with a fine blade.

  Tanner bent to King, and lit the cigar with a Calibri butane lighter.

  After a moment, King leaned back and puffed out a gout of gray smoke.

  “Well, George,” he said, “at least we now know where they are.”

  “Kill them,” he said.

  King puffed on his cigar again, and blew a perfect smoke ring.

  “With pleasure, Mr. King,” replied Tanner.

  Chapter 16

  MEGAN

  Derek texted me that he would meet me at Ike’s place, which was on Miami Beach, in the morning.

  I collected the contents of Peg’s bank box, walked down to the lobby of the hotel, and had Sandra hail me a taxi.

  I needed to go back to my apartment, because I had the King files there on my computer.

  The taxi arrived, and I got in. About forty minutes later, it dropped me off on Brickell Avenue, and I walked into my apartment building.

  An hour later, I had showered, and refreshed, and looking over more of the evidence, trying to assemble it to make it easy for Ike to see the logic of my arguments.

  I knew I had that bastard King where I wanted him!

  But, Ike would need a lot more convincing.

  I went to sleep, excited by the fact that I would see Derek in the morning!

  Maybe we could make love before we had to go see Turner.

  I masturbated, thinking of Derek’s wonderful cock and his magical tongue, then fell quickly to sleep.

  *****

  The next morning, I called the doggie hotel, and told them I would be picking Nigel up that afternoon.

  Unfortunately, Derek had texted me he was running late, but that he would swing by to pick me up and we could both drive in his car.

  No fuckie fucky for poor little Megan, I thought.

  After a short sulk, I got dressed, and waited for him.

  I reviewed my files, sure that Ike Turner would sign an affidavit and a warrant, and that this evening Mr. Robert King would be warming his ass in a nice jail cell.

  *****

  “Megan!” shouted Derek.

  I was walking down to the front of the apartment complex, when I saw Wernher coming in from the garage.

  “Miss Greene,” he said, sounding very German.

  His eyes missed nothing, and I saw him tracking Derek as he approached the doors.

  The doorman had stopped Derek, and was asking him for his identification.

  “Good morning, Wernher,” I said.

  “Miss Greene, there were several men in your apartment, about four days ago. I called the lobby, and reported it to the management. Apparently, there were air conditioning issues, and the men were from the local company,” said Wernher.

  “Yes, so, OK?” I asked.

  I was impatient for Derek to come and whisk me away.

  “Miss Greene, I did not recognize these men. I confronted them, and they told me to mind my own business. I assured them that the security and safety of the tenants in this building were my business, but they dismissed my concerns. Then, the day manager told me that they were a different crew, but had been cleared,” he said.

  Derek was coming into the foyer of the building now, and my attention wasn’t exactly on Wernher’ s tale.

  Just then, I saw George Tanner’s Mercedes-Benz pull up behind Derek.

  Time slowed almost to a stop.

  I saw Tanner pointing his gun out the window of the car.

  There was someone driving that I didn’t recognize.

  “Derek!” I shouted, and tried to point, but Wernher had already grabbed me and was shoving me to the ground.

  Derek started to spin around when the first explosive blast from the gun reached my ears.

  I saw a bloody flower bloom on Derek’s chest, and then another!

  Derek’s eyes rolled up, and he fell to the tiled floor!

  “Oh my God! No! Derek!” I screamed.

  Wernher held me down, and tried to keep me from running to Derek.

  Just then, two more men came out of the stairway. One of them ran to Wernher and kicked him away from me.

  Wernher tried to punch the man, but the man ducked and hit Wernher with a pistol, knocking him down.

  Wernher swung his legs under the man, and then punched him full in the face.

  Suddenly, I was grabbed around the waist and lifted off the ground by a giant black man.

  He carried me over to Tanner’s car, and then dumped me in the opened trunk.

  I screamed and shouted, terrified by what I had seen as I passed by Derek.

  His eyes were closed, and a pool of blood was expanding under his back.

  “Derek! Derek!” I shouted.

  Wernher came running out and tried to block the Mercedes, but the driver gunned the engine.

  The last thing I saw was Wernher diving back, as the black giant slammed the trunk lid onto my head.

  Then, there were stars and blackness.

  *****

  I can tell we are in some kind of really big building. Maybe a warehouse?

  I hear boat motors, and can smell the water and oil mix.

  It must be a dock, or marina.

  As I glance around, I don’t see anything very helpful.

  There’s nothing except a table with something on it, and four walls, and windows.

  Definitely a warehouse, and no one else is around.

  My head aches, and my neck is sore.

  I’m sitting in a chair.

  I’m naked.

  My wrists are tied behind me, and I am naked.

  My feet are taped to the legs of the chair, and a rope is around my waist, and I’m naked.

  Why the hell am I naked?

  I taste blood.

  My hair is a mess, but I’m more concerned with how I got the black eye.

  I can’t remember very much since seeing Derek killed by George Tanner.

  That fucking bastard!

  My heart is broken, and tears run down my cheeks.

  I have to get con
trol of myself!

  There is a funny whining sound, and I turn my head.

  On a table next to me is some kind of weird object.

  It looks like a digital clock, and some tube of something with wires.

  There’s also a video camera on a tripod.

  This does not look very good.

  *****

  Robert King walks into the room.

  “Well, my dear girl, it appears that our paths have crossed for the final time,” he says, puffing on another stinking cigar.

  “Fuck you,” I mutter.

  “I’d like you to know that it was never my intention to involve you. Unlike Peg, you have some backbone, and I admire that. Had you simply left things as they were, you’d not have heard from me, again. Unfortunately, you are one curious kitty, and we all know what happens to those, do we not?” he pontificated.

  That bastard!

  He’d had Tanner kill Sam Parker, and Peg, and Derek!

  I had to find a way to get to Ike!

  “Too bad Ike Turner has copies of all that evidence, you asshole! You’re going to burn!” I said, trying to feel brave.

  “Ah, yes. Judge Turner,” he said.

  “Judge Ike Turner has been my bitch since the day I had his wife killed, you numb cunt!” said King.

  “It wouldn’t matter if he were in this very room, nothing would compel him to indict me for anything!” he laughed.

  “Of course, none of that matters, as I am fairly certain that Tanner has handled the Judge and given him his marching papers. He’s taking a dirt nap, no doubt, by now,” he said, puffing his cigar.

  King puffed again, and blew the smoke in my face.

  I coughed, and my tits bounced for his amusement, no matter how I tried to stop them.

  “Ms. Greene, may I say you have magnificent breasts?” he asked.

  King tweaked my left nipple, and then put the glowing tip of his cigar on my right breast.

  The pain made me jerk at the ropes, and I screamed with rage and hurt.

  “You lousy fucker! I’m going to kill you!” I shouted.

  I tried to stand and the chair bounced and nearly overbalanced and caused me to fall.

  Luckily, I managed to somehow regain it, and it clunked against the floor.

  “Goodbye, Ms. Greene. Enjoy heaven, or hell, or oblivion!” said King, and he walked out of the room.

  I yelled and screamed as loud as I could, but there was nobody to hear me.

  I was trapped!

  *****

  DEREK

  A man was putting pressure on one of the bullet holes in my side.

  His uniform had a name sewn onto it.

  “Wernher.”

  I sat up, trying to gauge the extent of the injuries.

  When I was coming into her building, I saw Megan, and waved.

  Then I had seen Megan’s face reacting to something behind me, and when the old security guard had grabbed her and tried to protect her, I dove for the floor.

  The first bullet was the one that caused the most damage, but it caught me as I was spinning, and traveled along the muscles surrounding my rib cage.

  It traced along, inside the skin, but exited without causing anything severe.

  The other bullet actually fragmented on an armor plate I had on my chest.

  When it exploded, the shrapnel cut me in about six places. There was a lot of blood, but it was mostly superficial.

  It hurt.

  And, the initial shock knocked me out for a minute or so.

  By then, those fucking bastards had snagged Megan.

  “Wernher?” I ask the old man.

  “Ja? I mean, yes, what can I do for you?” he says.

  “I need to get up and out of here before the police arrive,” I say. “I’ve got to find Megan, and quickly!”

  “Your injuries are only on the surface, there were no major organs damaged, and the bleeding will cease with appropriate application of pressure,” he continued.

  “Are you a doctor?” I ask, as I get to my feet, wincing with the pain.

  Feels like maybe one of my ribs is busted.

  “Nein. No, not anymore. Not ever again, I am afraid. I am too old, now,” he replies with a bitter grin.

  “You shall live to fight again, Mein Herr,” he says to me.

  “Did you see what happened to Megan, to the woman?” I start to ask.

  “Miss Greene was thrown into the boot of a Mercedes sedan, an S-class, late model, license number…” he recites.

  “Whoa! Dude! Hang on a second!” I say, impressed.

  I get out my cell phone, and dial Randy.

  Wernher and Randy converse for a few minutes while I catch my breath and go through my kit in the F-150.

  I throw some clotting agent on the scratches, after cleaning them with alcohol wipes.

  Then, I wrap a mile of gauze around my ribs, and torso.

  I pick out a Glock .45 and the Kriss Vector SBR carbine.

  I put on my tac vest and then push five mags into my satchel.

  I am scared for Megan, but I also know she’s got a better than even chance for us to get to her.

  Too bad for them that Alpha Team tracked them to their lair at the Marina.

  I need to get there, fast.

  The traffic on Brickell is murder, and I don’t have time to wait for an airlift.

  Wernher hands me my cell phone, and then goes outside and around the corner of the building.

  I tell Randy to get over to the marina with the rest of the team, and that I will be there as soon as I can.

  As I disconnect, I hear a rumble and a squeal.

  Wernher rides up next to my truck, straddling a black and red Hayabusa, the fastest production motorcycle in the world.

  He gets off the bike, holding it up for me.

  “I assume you ride?” he asks, mockingly.

  “Like I was born with wheels, Wernher,” I say, taking hold of the handlebars.

  I shove the bike into first gear, and pull a wheelie down the sidewalk, and cut through the traffic.

  I hope I am in time!

  Hang in there, Megan, my love!

  *****

  “Mr. King, one of our people called and informed me that Derek White is apparently still alive,” said George Tanner.

  “What? I thought you told me you’d hit him?” said King.

  “It looked like a clean kill, with two solid torso hits, and plenty of blood, Mr. King,” said Tanner.

  “You’ve failed me, George. Again,” said King.

  “Look, Bobby, this is…” Tanner started to say.

  “No, you look, you cretin! I have given you every opportunity to rid me of this problem, yet, here it still is,” King said.

  The veins in his temples bulged, and he stood nose to nose with Tanner. Spittle formed at the corners of his mouth and his eyes bulged with rage.

  Tanner was unmoved by King’s display of fury.

  He’d seen it all before.

  When King’s tirade had run its course, he continued.

  “He was shot. He went down. We got the girl,” he said.

  “What did you do with Ms. Megan Greene, George?” said King, lighting another cigar.

  “Well, she’s mighty feisty, Bobby. So, I had to soften her up a bit,” Tanner smiled.

  “Do tell, George,” said King.

  Tanner had in fact knocked Megan unconscious when her two captors had delivered her to the marina. She was scratching and biting at them, and kicked one of the men in the balls.

  When she broke free, Tanner ran up to her and slugged her in the face.

  She went down, and tumbled into a heap.

  Tanner then took her into the warehouse office, and proceeded to disrobe her.

  He then tied her to a chair, and set about his next task.

  They needed a distraction while they took the last shipment of heroin to the seaplane.

  Tanner had rigged a timed explosive and set it next to her.

  He set
it for forty minutes.

  It was too bad.

  She was a nice looking piece of ass, but not really his type.

  Her stepbrother Blaise, that was another matter…

  *****

  Randy and Walt were hunched over in the cabin of the Blackhawk helicopter.

  Derek had managed to get the information from Wernher to them, and now Walt had used the traffic camera and SunPass automatic toll system cameras to track Tanner’s Mercedes to the Waterside Marina.

  The “Disco Inferno” and “Punta Gordo II” were moored there.

  Tanner’s yacht dwarfed the smaller boat, but their intel assets had radioed in that there was some activity occurring between both vessels.

  Armed guards stood watch on the deck of the yacht, overseeing the transfer of nondescript crates to the smaller boat. The onshore assets managed to identify Floori was one of the men supervising the transfer of the crates.

  Now, the Blackhawk swooped down the Miami Canal, towards the marina.

  The Alpha Team stood at the ready, with their M-4 carbines and Glock .45’s locked and loaded.

  The plan was for Randy and Walt to lead a squad each.

  Randy would try to locate Derek.

  Walt, Travis and the rest of the team would board the yacht, and overpower the guards.

  The Blackhawk was armed with a minigun, and the gunner had instructions to try to disable both vessels.

  “It’s go time, people!” yelled Walt above the whirring blades of the chopper.

  “Look, down there!” shouted Travis.

  A black and red motorcycle came racing across the parking lot, headed for the warehouses.

  “I think that’s Derek!” Travis shouted again.

  “Plan Delta,” said Randy into his headset.

  Now, all of the Alpha SEAL Team was committed to the yacht.

  For the moment, they knew where Derek was, and what he was doing.

  *****

  “Look there!” yelled one of the guards on the “Disco Inferno”.

  “DEA!” yelled another.

  The workers and guards suddenly were scrambling to get away from the crates they were loading.

  “Fools! It’s not the DEA!” shouted Floori.

  He ran to the deck, and started screaming orders to the Captain.

  The massive engines of the yacht sprang to life, as deckhands tossed the mooring lines overboard.

  Several of the workers ran to try to escape the incoming SEALS.