“God Damn, we are taking them out too. Tell me who the friggin leader is and where we can find him,” the President ordered.
“I’ll have to get back to you on that. It shouldn’t take too long,” Banyon replied.
“I’m headed to the situation room so I can see everything. My phone will work there. Call me back as soon as you have the name.” The President then hung up the phone before Banyon could respond to him.
Banyon leaned back in his car seat and said, “Wolf we have some more work to do. Who heads up the cartel and where is he located?”
Chapter Six
Wolf complied with the Mexican Mafia man’s name and location. Banyon called the President back to inform him. The President was angry and very agitated. “Call me back in an hour and a half with an update,” he demanded. Banyon agreed and decided to call him from his new office in Schaumburg, Illinois.
As he drove to the offices of Dewey & Beatem, he found himself thinking about the Mexican Mafia. The term Mafia had only been added recently. They were still cartels, but now, because of the huge profits generated by the organizations, authorities had raised them to Mafia status. They had also invaded the United States.
The Mexican Mafia controlled about eighty percent of the marijuana sold in the United States. Much of it today was grown on American soil, predominately in national parks. They smuggled in almost all of the cocaine, heroin, and most of the pill drugs. They now also controlled the illegal immigrant flood and had branched out to kidnapping, extortion, protection, prostitution, and even cyberspace scams. They could afford to hire legions of unemployed hackers in both Mexico and the U.S. They also employed a great number of police officials, judges, politicians, government officials in Mexico and a growing number of officials in the United States.
If you became a target of the Mexican Mafia, there was no place for you could hide. Their electronic capabilities matched law enforcement. They killed you and your family as well. Mostly they killed each other, just like the old time mafia groups, but a lot of innocent people died along the way. They were ruthless, uncontrollable men who answered only to their leaders. Banyon wondered if they were the new Nazis.
He had to put his thoughts on hold, as he entered the parking lot of the Law offices of Dewey & Beatem.
Chapter Seven
The law offices were located along the fringe of the Schaumburg mall in suburban Chicago. It was one of the largest malls in the country. As he approached the front door, he realized the entire building belonged to the Law firm. A discreet sign said, ‘Dewey & Beatem, Attorneys of Law’. While it was only three stories tall, it was very wide — almost half the size of a football field. The front of the building was all dark tinted glass and curved in a quarter circle arc. It seemed like a strong building to Colton Banyon. He climbed the three wide concrete steps and pulled the main door open. It was also made of substantial tinted glass. He then stepped inside.
Banyon looked around the reception area. It was at least sixty feet long. The first thing he noticed was a young girl in light blue spandex pants and a very tight top. She was sprinting across the lobby as fast as she could run. It was very fast. When she reached the far wall, she touched it, turned around, and sprinted back past him. She came so close to him that he could feel a slight breeze as she zipped by him.
He heard her say cheerfully. “Hello, be with you in a second.”
He started cross the marble floor while admiring the decor. The lobby was all glass, marble, and black leather, with a light-colored-wood reception desk along the back wall. It looked like a ticket counter. The entire area was very modern and sleek. The ceiling was three stories high with semi-circular balcony overhangs, for the second floor and third floors, jutting out from the back wall. He felt like he was in an airport terminal.
As he reached the reception counter, the young girl was already standing there. Because she was short, she stood on a platform behind the counter and no longer had on pants. Banyon realized her tight top was actually a speedo, skin-tight, light-blue, swimsuit. He also could see she didn’t have an ounce of fat on her trim barely five-foot tall body. Her short chestnut hair was cut in a pixy style and when she smiled, Banyon could clearly see she wore braces. She looked like she was fourteen years old.
“Good afternoon Mr. Banyon. We have been expecting you. My name is Mandy,” she said in a preadolescent voice with sexy overtones.
“How do you know my name?” he asked, a little flustered. Banyon felt like he might go to jail just because he was looking at her.
“Why I have your wallet,” she simply replied. “I have already checked your drivers’ license and other identification.”
“What?” Banyon stammered and put his hand into his suit jacket.
She held out his black, alligator-leather wallet. “Part of my job is to identify all of our visitors,” she offered.
“You’re a pickpocket?”
“Mr. Banyon, I do everything very fast,” she replied in a sexy soft voice and batted her eyes.
“But how..?”
“When I brushed by you as you came through the door,” she explained. “You were distracted. I’m good at distracting people,” she smiled revealing her braces.
“But you seem so young?” It was all he could muster. She had indeed distracted him.
“I’m actually twenty-two years old,” she said as an explanation as she stood up straight and tall. She then turned slowly around so Banyon could see that she was fully developed. A flush began to rise on his face.
“I see,” he stammered.
“My young appearance generally catches people off guard,” she admitted. “Then I swoop in and get what I want from them.”
“But aren’t you the receptionist?” Banyon asked. His idea of a receptionist was a lot different.
“Yes, of course I am.” She said indignantly and nodded her head. “I’m also one of the fastest humans alive. I expect to someday be in the Olympics. I can train all day long on this job and help my country too,” she said proudly.
“You do seem to have incredible speed and reflexes,” Banyon commented as he attempted to make her feel good.
She didn’t seem to buy his answer. “Let me show you more,” she said. As a demonstration, she suddenly cartwheeled over the counter, landed in front of him, leaped in the air with her legs apart, twisted and landed softly piggyback on his shoulders. While sitting there, she handed him his watch.
“Wow, now that’s impressive,” Banyon managed and meant it. Her weight didn’t bother him, the heat of her body did.
She quickly spread her legs and slid down his back. She leaped over the counter gracefully. “I hope I can help you someday. I often help the government,” she said, as sweet as butter.
“I’ll remember that,” he acknowledged.
“Now what can I do for you today?” she asked officially, but made it sound like an invitation.
“I’m supposed to see Heather Vance,” he replied. Mandy reacted with a little too much emphasis.
“Oh, her,” she ask with distain.
“Is there a problem?” Banyon asked. “I’m starting work here today and was told to see her.”
“I’m sure she is busy, but I’ll check anyway.” Mandy pressed a button under the counter. She raced to a door, flinging it open. Before it was able to reclosed, she was back.
“That was fast,” Banyon commented.
“She’ll be another ten minutes, but I’ve found Edgar to take you to your office. Timmy is setting up your computer there, as we speak.” As she spread her slender arm towards the doorway a man made his appearance. He looked like a ferret to Banyon. He was of average height, skinny build, with black greasy hair that covered his face as well as his head. His dark black eyes were set close together. He also had a severe overbite. He walked in small halting steps towards Banyon with his hands close together.
“Hello,” he said with a Midwestern accent. “I’m Edgar,” and offered his hand for Banyon to shake.
To qualify, Mandy said, “No last names here Colt. Edgar is our language expert. He speaks eighteen different languages, along with all the dialects. He is also our main document forger. He will show you to your office.”
“Follow me,” the ferret said. They passed through the door and entered a long hallway. They passed many closed doors before they reached a spiral metal staircase. They proceeded up to the second floor and back down another hallway. Edgar finally pointed to an open doorway. Both he and Banyon entered. The big room was almost twice as long as it was wide. The back wall of his office was floor to ceiling sliding glass doors that lead onto a small patio. He realized it was one of the overhang balconies. The sliding door was open and Banyon stepped through and looked down. He could see Mandy sprinting back and forth in the reception area. She waved to him.
Pointing down, he said to Edgar, “Mandy is an unusual character.”
“You’ll find that all of us are unusual,” Edgar replied mysteriously. “We all offer different talents the government needs from time to time. I assume you have a talent too. If I may be so bold, what is your talent Colt?”
“Oh, ah… I find things,” Banyon offered, but said nothing more.
“So you’re a ‘finder’ then.” The ferret noted as he nodded his head in acceptance. “They have set you up here, on the second floor, which means you are an Alpha and can request any of us to assist you, anytime. Heather will get you a list of our capabilities. She’ll be here in about five minutes,” he said as he looked at his watch. “She is just finishing up a routine task in one of the offices.” He turned to leave.
“Thanks,” Banyon managed before he was gone. Banyon now turned to survey his office. He had a large oak credenza on the wall, and an elbow shaped desk. The desk was located in the very back of the office near the sliding glass doors and faced the office door at the far end where they had entered. There were also two couches with a coffee table between them at the far end, from where he stood. It was large, measuring roughly, about forty feet by twenty feet. The chair for the desk was big and brown in color. As he studied it, the chair moved.
Soon, a large lump of brown, curly, frizzed, hair came into view, followed by horn-rimmed glasses and a slender male face. The face spoke. “Hi, man, I’m Timmy. I just finished setting up your kick-ass computer, dude.”
“Thanks,” Banyon said brightly.
Timmy extracted himself from under the desk. He was tall, over six feet, very slender in build, and his skin was almost opaque. Timmy didn’t get outside much Banyon figured. He was young, maybe twenty, and had on jeans and a tee shirt which said in bold letters, “World’s Best Hacker”.
Banyon noticed Timmy had a Bluetooth phone connecter in his left ear. Timmy began to explain the computer system. “I got you a bong, 25 inch monitor, because you’re old,” he explained.
“I see,” said a slightly annoyed Banyon.
“Boise speakers, so you can hear better,” Timmy continued. “Your tower is state-of-the-art. You’ll have access to every data base available in the world from this machine.”
“Thanks,” Banyon said.
“You can work the internet, can’t you?” Timmy talked like a person who was used to people not understanding him.
“Yes, of course I can,” Banyon replied a little peeved that Timmy thought he was not computer savvy.
“Well, let me explain the capabilities of the tower,” Timmy said with enthusiasm, but Banyon interrupted him.
“We can cover that at a later time.”
“Toss me your cellphone, man. I’ll connect it to your computer and you can download everything to your phone.” He held out his hand in expectation.
“Not going to do that,” Banyon countered as he shook his head.
Appearing very disappointed, Timmy said, “Why not man. This is cool stuff.”
“Timmy, if I connect my phone to the computer, you will be able to see everything on my phone and everything on my computer. You do record everything don’t you?”
Reluctantly Timmy admitted they did. “But no one cares if you go on porno sites or download movies, man.”
“Well, I care about my privacy,” Banyon said.
“Up to you man, you’re an Alpha,” Timmy shrugged his shoulders in defeat.
“Just what does an Alpha mean?” Banyon was confused by what Edgar had told him. He hoped Timmy would explain.
“You’re a boss. You can order us around like cattle, dude.”
“I see.” Banyon realized everything in the building was need-to-know, by position level, including the talents of the people.
“I work for you, whenever you need my help.”
“So you’re the resident Geek then?” Banyon asked.
“Man. I’m so past Geek status,” he waved his hands at Banyon. “I am the world’s best hacker,” he pointed to his shirt.
“Isn’t that illegal?”
“Nothing is illegal in this building,” he replied casually. He suddenly acted like he was listening to something. “Uh oh, I’ve got to run,” he said as he pressed his Bluetooth in his left ear and stared at the door opening. He then moved past him to the door.
“Why?” Banyon asked.
“The witch-bitch is coming.”
Chapter Eight
Banyon barely had time to set his satchel on the floor behind his desk and sit down before a stunningly beautiful woman entered his office and slammed the door loudly. She then took up a sexy pose and threw back her head in defiance. She looked like she had just showered as her long auburn hair lay flat against her back. She wore no makeup on her Euro-Asian face and didn’t need any.
Oh my God, the thought. He recognized her immediately. He had seen her several times before. “You must be Heather?” he forced himself to say even though he knew it was not her real name. He sat rigid in his chair with both hands on the desk top.
“Heather will do,” the beauty said dismissively. “Judging by your reaction to seeing me, you are a fan,” she stated through large pouty lips.
“Yes, I have seen you before,” he answered like a robot.
“Good, then we understand each other,” she hissed. She took two large steps closer to his desk, but stayed far enough away from him so he could see her complete body. She was about five foot four inches tall, with a perfectly-shaped figure and flawless skin. Her eyes were a deep-ocean blue and all but smoldered with intensity. She was dressed in a red, very tiny, micro mini-skirt, and a matching red tube top which barely covered her pear shaped breasts. Her shoes had six inch stiletto heels, also red in color. She carried a clear plastic bag with several things visible inside. She looked just like a porno star, which of course, she was.
Colton Banyon had one fatal weakness. He, like many men, was helpless around gorgeous, sexy, women. They could intimidate, manipulate, encourage, discourage and control him with just a look or a flip of their hair. He quickly understood that this woman was a grand master of the art. She could also offer many physical enticements. He had never actually met a porno star before. He wondered if he could control himself as he stared at her. He was in a dubious position.
“You’re the office manager?” he said with disbelief.
She looked at him like he was an idiot. “We can do this one of two ways,” she growled with a deep throaty voice. “The hard way or the easy way, which do you prefer, Colt? I have another appointment in ten minutes,” she said as she slapped her bag against her leg.
“I’m not sure what you mean?” he admitted.
She moved quickly around his desk and stood next to his chair. He now smelled fresh soap and a hint of perfume. She was intoxicating. “Okay, I’ll make it hard for you,” she said in a determined, but sexy voice.
“But, I…,” was as far as he got before she interrupted him.
“You have been assigned Alpha status, so you have the privilege of my services three times per week. I do not provide services before eight o’clock in t
he morning and none after five o’clock at night. What times would fit your schedule. I’ll see if I am open then.” She pulled out a small black book and a pen from her clear bag.
“But Heather,” he muttered. “I don’t think I can do this. I have a committed relationship,” he blurted out.
“Come now, you want me, every man does. In this building nothing is illegal or even immoral. Give me your times,” she demanded as she opened her black book and clicked her pen open.
“I can’t do this,” he whispered, but found he could not move his body. His face flushed and suddenly he was very warm. This woman is offering me sex, he thought.
“Maybe you need more convincing,” she announced and slid her tight rear end onto his desk. Her shapely long, beautiful, legs were now inches from his hand and slightly spread. She stared at him with eyes containing pure lust. A small moan escaped her lips.
Sweat dripped from his brow, “All I want to do is find things,” he croaked.
“Ah, so you are a voyeur,” Heather quickly replied. “We have several of them in the office including Timmy, who you’ve already met.” She then repositioned herself on his desk. She posed like she was a display.
“You are beautiful and very sexy,” he muttered. “But I still can’t do this.”
“You ain’t seen nothing yet,” she commented. He heard himself gasp as she raised her legs over his head, placed them on the desk, and turned on her side. She then smiled at him. Banyon was beside himself.
“Heather,” he started. “If we have sex, then you would have power over me. You could blackmail me, extort money and favors, and keep me off balance forever. I can’t allow that to happen.”
“Dear Colt, don’t you realize that every woman does the same thing. I’m just a little better at it.”
All his life, Banyon had fallen prey to the sexual advances of beautiful women, but he had Loni now. He wasn’t going to spoil their relationship.
“No,” he yelled in a determined voice and slammed his fists on the desk. Heather’s reaction was immediate. She swung her legs back over his head, stood up, and began to put her book back in her bag.
A Dubious Position (A Colton Banyon Mystery Book 7) Page 3