Excessica Anthology BOX SET Winter (46 page)

Politely,
as if nothing other than a business deal had transpired, Fausto shook Alberto’s
hand and kissed mine before opening the door for us to leave.

* *
* *

All
that evening and on the plane back to San Francisco, I tried to reestablish
myself with Alberto. Hoping to ease any thoughts he might have that he wasn’t
my man, I poured my attention on him and it seemed to be working. No longer did
he seem mad at me, but I was curious as to what the other matter Fausto
mentioned was so finally I asked.

“Alright,
but this is between you and I. I’ve never told you, but I have a younger
sister, Sofia, who is only eighteen, and living back home in Columbia. She
dearly wants to come to America to go to college, but Fausto forbade it until
now. Now she will not only come, she will select her school from amongst the
best and he will pay all her school and living expenses.” Strangely, Alberto
seemed reserved about what sounded to me like a wonderful opportunity for his
sister.

“Isn’t
this a great thing for your sister? Pardon my asking, but you don’t seem
exactly thrilled for her.” I didn’t understand his ambivalence.

“No,
I am happy for her, because it gets her out of Columbia and it’s a great
opportunity for sure, but it . . . well it’s hard to explain to those not in
the family.” Again he seemed reluctant to go further.

“Try
me, I think I’ll understand.” I gave him my sad, puppy dog eyes.

“My
mother, Fausto’s sister, died when I was twelve and Sofia was six. Both of us
were totally dependent on Fausto until he allowed me to come here to go to
college at Stanford. Now he’s letting Sofia do the same which is good in one
way, but on the other hand it will mean she owes him, as I do, and you never
stop repaying him. Part of the reason I didn’t pull you out of that hotel room
is because I owe him. The only way Sofia, you, and I will be truly free is if
he’s somewhere where he can’t control our lives.”

* *
* *

Once
we got back to San Francisco, we settled into our lives and more than a week
went by before I heard anything. It was a cloudy Tuesday morning in June about
quarter past nine in the morning and I was busy at work in my office when my
assistant, Samantha, buzzed me from the outer office.

“Two
men have arrived to see you. They say they’re from a Mr. Constanza and you’re
expecting them. They don’t seem to have an appointment at least as far as I can
see.” Samantha’s voice sounded somewhat annoyed as if she suspected I hadn’t
told her of the appointment.

I
froze wondering if Fausto himself was out there in my reception area. “Ahh,
send them in, Sam, and I’m sorry. I think I forgot to tell you they were
coming.” So as not to arouse her suspicions, I pretended to be contrite about a
mistake I hadn’t made.

What
surprised me initially when they entered was they were not Latino. They were as
white as me, one younger and the other considerably older, perhaps in his
fifties. If I’d had to guess, I would have put their heritage as Italian making
them closer to Mafioso than Columbians.

“Hello,
Ms. Rawlins, we’re here to take you to work.” As surprising as his statement
was, the older one pulled a micro-sized tape recorder out of his suit pocket
and placed it on my desk. When he pressed the play button, I instantly
recognized the voice I heard.

“Buenos
Dias, Senorita Kelly, the time has come for your first day at work. Go with my
associates to a location I’ve chosen for your work and complete all the work
assigned. Then you have my promise you will be returned to your office, or your
apartment, by my associates. Failure to do this will be, how shall I put it,
unpleasant for you for I don’t like loose ends.” Fausto’s voice remained polite
through the whole speech, but there was no question in my mind there would be
trouble if I didn’t do exactly as he said.

With
my stomach churning with both anxiety and excitement, I looked up at the older
one who picked up the recorder and returned it to his inner suit pocket. In
doing so he conveniently shows me the concealed pistol inside his suit.

Despite
my fear I stand up on shaky legs and look at the older one’s grizzled face.
“Okay, I understand. Shall we go, gentlemen?”

When
we got to their vehicle, a black Lincoln, I was seated in the back and
blindfolded. It was disconcerting, but I understood the purpose; they didn’t
want me to know where I was going. When we arrived they pulled me from the car
and firmly escorted me by my arms into a building. Once inside they removed my
blindfold and it looked like we were in the middle of an empty warehouse except
that in the middle of this huge space was a well-lit desk with a comfortable
chair and a state of the art desktop computer.

“Go
ahead, Ms. Rawlins, get started. All you need is loaded into the computer and
I’m told there’s a checklist of tasks to be completed. My understanding is the
programming should be more than familiar to you. The sooner you start the
sooner you finish and we get to eat.” The older one gave me a look which told
me he was serious about there being no food here so I quickly sat down at the
screen to see what was to be done.

As
it turned out, the accounting software was identical to what I used in my
office, but as Fausto had said there was much work to be done. Spreadsheet
after spreadsheet involving millions of dollars required my attention and
balancing. What I noticed immediately was how far flung Fausto’s operation was,
truly worldwide in scope. The second thing which stuck out was the profits,
huge to say the very least, and there were some odd accounts payable identified
only by a single name. Most of the names were Spanish-sounding, but what they
were finally clicked in my head when I recognized a good old American name, a
prominent politician from Texas. Clearly these accounts payable were corrupt
officials being paid off by Fausto’s organization.

I
worked feverishly for hours, balancing accounts as I tried to understand the
gaps where money seemed to disappear. As the instructions asked, I made notes
on entries that were suspicious in this manner and I assumed my notes would be
read by Fausto. When I wondered what the results of my notes would be. I
concluded people’s lives were at stake here for surely Fausto would take action
against any underlings who I directed his suspicions at.

When
I was finished, the older guy, who never offered his name and I didn’t ask,
presented me with a data stick to download the whole contents of the computer
onto. I did so, but after I did things got truly bizarre. After stepping away
from my workspace, I watched in part fascination and part shock as they both
proceeded to douse the computer and the desk in gasoline before setting it
ablaze. Only when it was an inferno did they blindfold me and we left.

Once
in the car, the older one asked me where I wanted to go. I responded my
apartment and I was about to give him my address, but he touched my shoulder.

“No
need, we know where you live.” His words made me realize they could just as
easily have come for me while I was in bed in the middle of the night. The rest
of the drive was silent until we stopped and I was pulled out and my blindfold
removed to reveal I was standing on the sidewalk in front of my apartment
building. I was shaking, but I noticed beside me on the pavement was small
black satchel and curiosity forced me to pick it up. Inside was $20,000 which
was obviously my pay for this single session of work. Stunned, I rushed inside
to call Alberto and tell him everything. Of course before the call ended I was
begging him to come over and spend the night so I would not be alone tonight.

Next,
I used the cell they gave me to call the FBI and report. They grilled me over
details and of course concluded the obvious; I must get the data stick to them.
After we arranged for me to turn in the $20,000, the special agent I spoke to
said they’d work on a plan to help me get the stick out, but I’d been thinking
about it and so I responded that I thought I already had one. My thought was to
use some sort of a slight-of-hand technique to switch the stick with an
identical one I was carrying on me, but I needed to go through the experience a
few more times to work out the details and make sure there were no hitches. I
knew if they became the slightest bit suspicious they might search me and find
the duplicate.

We
agreed my plan was workable and as it turned out it took three more “work” days
over the course of four months before I felt comfortable. They were being very
careful to give me no prior warning of when they would come as there was no
pattern to the days, times, and places they surprised me in.

Despite
that, there were a few things which remained constant. My two escorts were
always the same as was the manufacturer of the data sticks. This was crucial
because now I could rely on having an identical stick with me.

Although
I never managed to engage my tight-lipped escorts in any meaningful
conversation, I did begin to notice their habits. Most importantly I noticed
the older guy never looked closely at the stick after he took it from me. Now I
felt ready to go.

When
the moment of truth occurred the switch went off without a hitch and I managed
to slip the original stick into my bra for security. Through the entire drive
home I had visions or rather daytime nightmares of being suddenly stripped and
searched and having my betrayal discovered. Then I imagined a call would be made,
orders from Fausto would be issued to my escorts, and I would get a final drive
to some secluded place where I would likely be raped for their amusement before
they put a bullet in my head.

Fortunately
none of this happened and I can remember my squeal of glee at my success when I
arrived in my apartment safe and sound. Giddy with excitement and never having
imagined it would be this easy, I called Alberto, the FBI, and my Dad in that
order. They were all pleased and the FBI took possession of the stick, Dad’s
praise had me glowing all over, and Alberto’s cock gave satisfaction that
night.

Of
course the Bureau informed me it wasn’t over as I had to testify at Fausto’s
trial to corroborate where the information on his finances had come from. I
suppose I knew this, but their next demand, to put us in the Witness Protection
Program, came as a definite shock.

* *
* *

When
I threatened to not testify unless we remained together and on the west coast,
they reluctantly relocated us to Tacoma, WA. At first it was difficult getting
used to new lives with new names and the stress of secrecy, but as months
rolled by we hunkered down and told ourselves we could move back to our lives
in San Francisco once the trial was over and Fausto was behind bars.

Finally
the big day came and I was flown to San Francisco under heavy FBI security to
play what I thought would be my last part in the drama. Nervous as hell, I
didn’t know how I’d feel when I had to look Fausto in the eye as I sat on the
witness stand, but I played my part perfectly. He expressed very little emotion
as he sat there with his team of lawyers and I wondered if he even recognized
his former fuck bitch. The best news came two days later when the Bureau told
me he was convicted. He only got seven years for the tax evasion, but the FBI
assured me several of his underlings had agreed to turn on him so the Bureau
anticipated charging and convicting him on several other crimes. The bottom
line being he was going to be in prison for the rest of his life.

Relieved,
Alberto and I were in the mood to celebrate and so we booked a weekend trip
back to San Francisco. Once there, Alberto told me he was so proud of me and he
took me for a day of shopping telling me I could have whatever I wanted. We
went to a lots of stores, but our last destination before going out to eat was
my favorite store, the Grant St Banana Republic.

Elated
at my bold success and very much in love with Alberto, I was trying on a
sequined skirt with a violet top when Alberto came up behind me and whispered
softly. “I want to fuck you, Kel, right here right now.”

It
was an irresistible thought and I whispered back. “Yes, sneak in the dressing
room.”

As
soon as I entered the dressing room I began stripping as I wanted to be naked
when he got there. I could barely wait to worship his cock, slathering over it
until it was steely hard and ready to stab into me. Then I imagined him
pressing me against the wall and taking me with the same sort of raw passion
Fausto had.

It
all went according to my desires at first as I dropped to my knees and tongued
his cock, but as I looked up at him I saw his eyes were if anything looking
sad. I didn’t understand, but I didn’t want to ruin the moment so I pushed him
deeper in my throat.

Seconds
later he grabbed my hair and pulled me up to him. I pulsed with a raw
excitement thinking, y
es, he’s going to take me and fuck me like his bitch.

Pushing
me to the wall, he took my pussy from behind, plunging deep with his first
stroke. I gasped at his entry, but when he leaned over me and whispered in my
ear I became confused.

“I’m
sorry we don’t have more time together, Kel, but thank you. As a favor to you,
I’ll always remember you as you were.” Instantly, Alberto wrapped one arm
around my neck and pulled my head up as he simultaneously slapped his other
hand over my mouth.

I
didn’t understand what he meant. Was this even rougher play something he
thought I’d like? I hoped so, but my instinct told me something was horribly
wrong. Suddenly alarmed, I tried to scream, but his grip on throat and mouth
were too strong and nothing came out. Fear rolled over me in waves before I
felt a tiny prick on the skin of my upper arm and my terrified eyes caught a
syringe in Alberto’s hand as it pulled it away