Uh oh!” Paul exclaimed and dropped his head in defeat.
“Mr. Paul,” Agent Chen started. “We’re now going to add charges of attempted bribery, and a second count of attempted conspiracy to your jacket. I don’t think these charges will have any impact on the Woods case. They’re separate and will mean an additional trial. I’d say that you’re going to be in court for a much longer time now and in jail for even longer. Hope you don’t have any enemies in the state pen.”
“This is blackmail,” he roared but it was a hollow threat.
“I’m ordering you to rip up the garbage you’ve been writing, and start over with the truth,” she said hotly.
“Or what?” he fired back.
“I’m a very vindictive woman, and might come across the table and cut off your balls with my ancient Chinese ball-cutting knife. I’ll just say that you attacked me. Who would believe you?” She started up the recorder once again.
Paul was suddenly sweating. He threw the pen down. “I have it all on tape — names, dates, and people involved. Is that worth something?”
The interview with Seith Paul proved to be another gold mine. The records found in his car filled in several blanks the Woods’s records had left unclear. Detective Heinz decided to not make a plea-bargain deal with Paul, other than to ignore the potential charges he’d picked up in the interview room with Loni. He was placed in one of the holding cells in the back of the station house along with Timmy, the tattoo man. The cells were filling up fast.
***
Agent Gamble now moved his attention to Long Island, and the takedown of the white supremacy group. He called and assembled half a dozen New York agents to visit the site that Banyon outlined with a map. He arranged his travel, and assigned someone to take over his responsibilities in Chicago. He wanted to be involved in the action. He then left for New York.
There was little more to do until the voice tapes from Kroll’s meeting came in. They were not expected for several hours yet. Heinz directed his attention to Agent Chen.
“Want to get something to eat? You’ve been going all day without a break.”
She looked at him with true admiration. She realized that he trusted her judgment, and actually did want to be around her.
“I want to hear your siren again.”
Chapter Forty-Four
Colt was once again lying in bed in the Patel basement. They had left the police station once Detective Heinz went to interview Seith Paul. He had showered, and shaved. He now stared at the ceiling while thinking. He was terribly perplexed by the twin sisters. They seemed to move in unison, and yet they were worlds apart in personality. One was an intelligent, graceful companion, and the other an unsuppressed adventurer. Colt admired both. The spell they cast over me is overwhelming, he thought. I’m powerless to defend myself around them.
He was also troubled by the fact that he might be cheating on his girlfriend, if he still had one. While Colt rarely felt guilty about anything in his life, he wondered if age had affected his ability to feel guilty. On the other hand, he was very aroused now, and actually felt kind of proud he still could have carnal desires.
The door to the bedroom slowly opened as a dull ray of light penetrated the room. Despite the darkness, he could see she had on a sheer white nightdress. He stayed quiet and pretended to be asleep.
She silently glided over to the bed and stood before him.
“Hi,” he said softly.
“No talking” was the reply. “Just lie there and be quiet.” Her voice was hoarse with lust. “Don’t move; I want to enjoy you. Just let it happen. Colt, let me take my time.”
“I’m all yours, Pramilla,” he said in a raspy voice.
“I’m the wild one” was the reply.
Oh, my God, thought Colt. This is Previne. I’m in trouble now. I was expecting Pramilla. What am I going to do?
“Is that really you Previne?”
“Sometimes I’m Previne, and sometimes I’m Pramilla. It depends on the circumstance,” she said gaily. “We’ve used this deception to fool people in India, and we’ve kept it up here in America,” she added as she climbed onto the bed.
“What’s going on here?” Banyon uttered. “I don’t understand?”
“When Pramilla first met you, she was very attracted to you. I did not want to interfere. But I’ve also grown attracted to you as well. We have decided to drop our charade. We both desire you. Do you hate us now?”
“But how can you deal with both of you wanting me?” Banyon asked in confusion.
“Oh,” she gave a throaty laugh. “We often share things.”
“Even men,” he said in shock.
“I’ll also tell you this,” she said like it was a conspiracy. “The more you resist the greater our desire for you increases. We can not stop ourselves.”
Banyon had to think about that statement, but not right now he decided. “Who are you really?” he asked instead.
“I’m really Previne. I won the coin flip.”
“What coin flip?” asked Banyon.
“To see which one of us would go first. Pramilla lost but will be along shortly.”
That night Colt was able to cross off number three on the list of things he wanted to do before he left this earth. The feeling of guilt had melted away.
Chapter Forty-Five
Back at the apartment of Carl Heinz, Loni Chen lit a cigarette. She and Heinz were standing on the outside patio of his apartment. Heinz had a big stogie he had saved for a celebration. For the first time in his life, he felt he knew where he was headed, and who would be going there with him. He had to admit that sometimes she was a little scary, with the hidden items trick, and the lightning speed with which she did everything, but he could deal with that problem. His main concern was trying to keep her slowed down enough for the rest of the world to catch up.
“Have you considered my offer?” he asked her through a cloud of cigar smoke.
“Which one was that?” She said in fake confusion.
“I want you to come here and work with me — that offer.”
There was an unexpected pause. “I don’t know. I’m not very good at my job, and I’m not very experienced, and you know people only want me around because I’m pretty and …”
Heinz knew enough about the Chinese culture to know she was begging him to finalize the deal with her. The Chinese, especially their women, had a habit of acting modest to a fault when under pressure. While inwardly confident, they often would point out their faults, rather than say they wanted something, especially something personal. So he rephrased.
“Too late Chen,” he said roughly. “I’ve already asked your boss to cut you free to work in Streamwood. He said he was proud to let you go.” Heinz had not actually called the man yet, but he would.
“That son of a bitch couldn’t wait to get rid of me. I’ll take you up on your offer Carl, at least until something better comes along.”
“If you keep talking like that I’ll pull your hair.”
So it was settled: she would come to work in Streamwood and become his employee, friend, and maybe more.
Chapter Forty-Six
Michael Dean arrived home at almost 4:00 a.m. He immediately noticed that the Woods house was dark. He got himself his tenth beer of the night, and sat down in the living room to drink it. He thought about his plan. He wanted to be the savior of the Aryan cause. He needed to eliminate the competition. His insatiable greed had started him on a course of confrontation with Joe Kroll. It was time to implement the next stage.
Dean speed-dialed his house phone to call Teddy, and was waiting for the phone to ring when he noticed his message light was blinking. I’ll get that later, he thought.
“Hello,” a sleepy voice answered.
“Hey Teddy, you awake?” Dean didn’t care if he woke him.
“What’s up Mike? It’s pretty late, you know. I just got home a little while ago.” Teddy was slurring his words.
“I thought everything
went great tonight, didn’t you?” Mike said.
“Yeah me too,” Teddy slurred.
“I’ve got one question for you, though? Remember when we had our private meeting with Joe? I told him there was one hundred and thirty million in the kitty from Walter Pierce. But during the speech tonight, he said there was only a hundred million.”
“Yeah, man, I remember, you did. Kind of funny, don’t you think?” Teddy was more alert now. “Maybe he got his numbers wrong.”
“Oh, he didn’t get them wrong, Teddy,” Dean countered. “Kroll’s insane, you know. He’s consumed with being the ‘King’ of Aryanna.” Dean now had Teddy’s full attention. “I suspect he is trying to skim a little for himself.”
“But Joe’s committed to the cause,” Teddy said defensively. “He wouldn’t do something like that.”
“He’s trying to take complete control,” Dean blustered. “Can’t you see that? Did you listen to his speech tonight?”
“Yeah,” the other man replied reluctantly. “Now that I think about it, he had the other leaders virtually sign over their club memberships and future incomes. The Altar of the Creator church is now one of the largest private churches in the country. We have a lot of assets.”
“So why didn’t he mention the other thirty million?” Dean asked.
“He must want the thirty million for himself,” a now vengeful Teddy yelled out as he suddenly understood.
“Tell you what,” Dean came back. “Meet me at my house tomorrow around noon and let’s make some plans for dealing with Mr. Kroll.”
“Okay, I’ll see you at your house — you bring the beer.” Teddy then hung up.
Checking his messages, Dean was enraged to find out that Ula had left town, especially when he was tense and needed her to release his frustration. I’ll teach her a lesson in the dungeon when she gets back.
Part Six
First Contact
Chapter Forty-Seven
Early the next morning, FBI Agent Greg Gamble and two additional New York agents were on their way to Westhampton, specifically to Tanners Neck Lane. The two New York agents picked Agent Gamble up at MacArthur Airport late on Saturday night, and drove the thirty miles out to Riverhead, where they stayed in the local Holiday Inn along with six other agents.
At breakfast, Agent Gamble briefed the additional half-dozen field agents he’d assembled on the mission to dig in the woods. Agent Gamble spent more than a half-hour explaining the assignment to the six agents and going over the map. Several men on the digging detail thought this would be great fun.
“Arrr…me harties. We’ve a pirates treasure to dig,” one man said in his pirate voice.
***
On his lap in the car Agent Gamble looked at a Google map of the area, as well as directions to the Pierce home. The map depicted just how small the island really was in size. In some places it was only eight miles from the north to the south shore before the fork in the island. A narrow slip of land ran along the south coast. Only a mile or less separated it from the mainland. He knew the sandbar was a couple of hundred yards wide, running from Brooklyn almost to the end of Long Island. It was referred to as “Jones Beach” near the city “Fire Island” in the middle, and “Dune Road” from Mastic on out to Southampton. A total of over one hundred miles of great sandy beaches lined the route. Land prices were astronomical. At one time it had been a continuous island, but weather and man interfered to make openings into the huge bays for boats.
Gamble studied the map as Agent Booth filled him in on the geography. “Is the area what you expected?”
“Actually,” said Gamble, “it’s not at all as I expected.”
Agent Booth chuckled. “Wait a few more minutes, and you will see what the Hamptons are all about. The interior of the island is pretty bland, just scrub pine trees, but the ocean area is something else.”
“Okay,” Gamble said as he wondered what he meant.
“Let me give you a few facts. The Gulf Stream comes very close to the shore along this part of Long Island, giving it a moderate climate. Not too hot in the summer, and warmer in the winter than in the city. They don’t get much snow here. When it does snow, it doesn’t stay long. While it doesn’t get very cold, it does get pretty raw and windy.”
“Sounds like a nice climate,” Gamble acknowledged.
“Beaches and water are everywhere, and that attracts celebrities, wealthy New Yorkers, and people who want to get away from the concrete jungle for a few days. Many locals rent their houses out for the summer — for big money, I might add. On weekends some houses have twenty or more people staying there. In the summer, the population here can quadruple; yet in the fall and winter, these are sleepy little towns.”
“So whole towns out here are the resorts,” Gamble recapped.
“That’s right,” Agent Booth agreed. “On places like Dune Road, a plot of land could go for a million dollars or more. Maybe we’ll have time to go down to the beach. Many of the houses are one-of-a-kind designs, and some are built on stilts to protect them from bad weather. The whole island was formed by a glacier you know.”
Gamble interrupted him. “I know all about the glacier thing. I’ve heard it before. How far is it to the Pierce house? I’m getting sick of hearing how cool the Hamptons are. After all, I live in the flat, dry, cold Midwest.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
The alarm had awakened Banyon. He opened his eyes and realized he was sandwiched between two darker-skinned women. Both were facing him with one of their arms draped over his chest. They were also stirring. Warm brown eyes were looking at him from both sides.
“Good morning, ladies,” he greeted them.
“I don’t want to get up yet,” Previne moaned.
“I don’t either, but I have to meet Agent Chen at the police station in less than an hour,” Banyon said cheerfully.
“We’re going with you,” Pramilla said. “Don’t try to stop us,” she threatened.
“Well, at least one of you is because someone needs to drive me. Now one of you will have to move, or I’ll have to use my secret weapon on you.”
“I love when you talk dirty,” Previne purred.
“He means that he will tickle you, the vicious bastard,” Pramilla laughed, and slapped his hairy chest.
With that, they all bounced out of bed. The twins started to stretch, and Colt forgot to go to the shower. They were so graceful and athletic to look at. He stood mesmerized.
“Why don’t you join us?” Previne said through pouty lips.
“I’m afraid it would only make me stiffer, and be late for my meeting,” he joked.
Both girls stopped and turned towards him. They were twin bookends, naked and beautiful. They started towards him. There was lust in their eyes.
“Oh, no,” he said. “I couldn’t, really, I couldn’t.”
He ran into the bathroom and locked the door.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Agent Gamble and the agents reached the end of Tanners Neck Lane. They marveled at the view. The bay in front of them was wide and sparkling blue. Several sailboats with their colorful sails ran along the far side of the bay. Speedboats and water-skiers raced back and forth on the broad bay. The air was rich with the smell of the sea — it was a perfect place to live. They exited the car and headed towards the only home located at the end of the road. They walked up to the compound gate and pressed the bell. After a short wait, a tinny voice inquired, “Who is it?”
“Mr. Pierce, please.”
“I don’t recognize you. Who are you?” The tinny voice questioned. Gamble was sure it was Walter Pierce talking.
“I’m Agent Greg Gamble of the FBI. May we speak with you?” Gamble was attempting to sound nonthreatening.
“Very well,” the voice replied. “I’ll open the gate. Please walk up, but leave your car where it is on the road.”
As they strolled up the long driveway, they noticed the front door of the house open. A very old man stood in the shade of the
small porch. He was dressed in a white shirt and tie, but no jacket.
“My name is Walter Pierce,” he offered. “Please come in.”
They entered the house, and were directed through the living room to a back patio near the water. The agents assumed seats under a large umbrella positioned over a round table. The sun was so bright Agent Gamble kept on his sunglasses, and no one seemed to mind.
“Mr. Pierce, you sure have a nice house here. Do you live here by yourself?” Agent Booth asked the first question to break the ice.
“Well, my boy,” the old man crackled back. “I have a housekeeper, but she’s away on a cruise right now, so for this week I am on my own. I would offer you coffee, but I don’t know how to make it.”
“That’s okay. We’ll try to not take up too much of your time, Mr. Pierce,” Agent Gamble said taking over the interview.
“You may call me Walter.”
“Walter, how long have you lived in the area?” Gamble asked as he prepared to take some notes.
“I was born in the next town over, and I have lived here all my life. I built this house several years ago.”
“The only information that we have been able to gather about you starts in 1942. We would like you to fill in some blanks about your background please,” Gamble asked.
“Okay, but why is the FBI interested in an old man like me?”
“Your name came up in a routine investigation. We need to fill in some information, especially on your background. Can you help us?”
“Actually, I have nothing to hide,” replied Pierce sincerely. “If you will allow me a minute to collect some papers, I can answer your questions with facts. One of your men can go with me if you like.” Gamble nodded and Agent Booth followed Pierce into the house.
Pierce went to his desk and extracted an old file. His credentials were complete. Pierce knew that. He had his original U.S. passport, and papers that had been signed in 1936 in France which legally changed his name to Walter Pierce. Thanks to Wilhelm Canaris, he had actual bona fides. He gathered the information and returned to the patio.
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