Fraud: A Stepbrother Romance (17 page)

“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.

They ran down the dock, past the yacht.

The Captain pushed the throttles open, and
the ship backed into the dock, splintering the walkway, and catching two of the
running men in the wreckage.

Another man fell off balance into the
propeller area, and was chopped to bits in seconds.

The Captain reversed course, swearing in
Norwegian, as the ship came off the smashed wharf pilings, and headed out to
the mouth of the inlet.

He barked orders at the crew, while
several of the guards ran to a small shack at the back of the yacht. They
pulled two levers, unlocking the carapace covering of a small cannon.

As the Blackhawk approached, they began to
fire at it.

******

“Alpha Team, prepare to board!” yelled
Randy into his headset.

“Looks like they have some teeth, Boss,”
said Travis, pointing to the deck gun.

“A five-incher, it looks like, mate,” said
Walt.

The men on the yacht were trying to get
the gun aimed at the helicopter, and managed to fire a round that whooshed by
on the starboard side of the chopper.

A large splash of water formed as the
shell exploded.

The other SEAL team members ran
last-minute equipment checks as the chopper slewed low over the water, and came
in hot.

Another shell was fired from the cannon,
this one to the port side, as the gun crew tried to bracket the aircraft and
gauge the correct distance.

The next round would most likely hit the
chopper head-on.

“Light ‘em up, Roger,” commanded Randy to
the gunner.

The minigun opened up and a stream of
geysers appeared, tracing a deadly path to the stern of the “
Disco Inferno
”.

The gunner concentrated his fire at the
ship, walking the shells up the stern and onto the deck, hosing down the men
firing at the chopper.

The guards were cut into shreds of meat in
an instant, and the cannon fired one last round high and wild into the sky.

“Now!” yelled Randy.

The Blackhawk hovered over the yacht, and
the SEALs rappelled down to the deck.

As they dropped to the ship, they took
careful aim, neutralizing the guards.

The yacht’s stern was on fire from the
minigun, and black smoke came from its exhaust stacks.

The Captain and crew came out of the
bridge, hands held high, as the SEALs rapidly took control of the situation.

Within a few minutes, the yacht had been
captured, and attention was being given to dousing the flames.

“Payday, Boss!” smiled Travis, his gold
grill shining bright.

He held a styrette of morphine, and a small
glassine package of tan powder.

“Looks like they had some refined stuff,
and were taking the raw material to another lab for processing,” said Walt.

Suddenly, the men heard a loud explosion,
from the direction of the marina.

A huge fireball, greasy with smoke, rose
like a mushroom in the distance.

“Derek…” said Randy.

*****

Megan’s eyes frantically watched the
second hand on the clock sweep out the last seconds of her life.

For the thousandth time, she tried to
wrench her hands free from their tight leather bindings. For the thousandth
time, she failed. Despair welled up within her bosom, as the knowledge of her
impending doom sank into her psyche.

She feared not Death; that was but another
great adventure, an unknown waiting to be explored.

But, she felt abject terror at having lost
Derek, yet again.

Death would actually be welcome, she
thought. It was preferable to be no longer in this world when her soul mate and
love would never be with her.

She had seen Tanner shoot Derek, in the
back!

That bastard!

Megan struggled anew, the bindings tightly
winding and cutting the circulation to her hands even more.

She craved revenge, and the thought of
killing Tanner gave her new strength, at least for the next four or five sweeps
of the unstoppable second-hand.

The wires that were attached to the bomb
were actually quite pretty, she thought, idiotically. They were the most
intense shades of blue, red, yellow and green that she could remember.

Suddenly, she had an idea!

Megan tried to rock her chair, again, and
was able to move it closer to the device. She had long ago succeeded in chewing
through the sour tasting leather gag, and it lay draped partially on her
shoulders.

Her naked breasts heaved with the effort
of trying to move the chair closer to the bomb without toppling over.

All her earlier yelling had managed to do
was confirm that she was utterly alone on the farm, with no one around for
miles to hear her desperate cries for help. She had wasted valuable time then,
and sweat ran into her eyes, not just from the horrible summer heat, but from
the intense concentration she mustered.

She was almost there, now. Just one. More.
Jump!

The chair teetered and almost tipped past
its balance point, and for one terrifying second she thought she’d lost the
game. But, sucking in her breath, she compensated and jerked just so, and the
chair came to a solid rest with a dull thud.

Her eyes and mouth were mere fractions of
an inch from the bomb. She had exactly four minutes left, to do anything at
all. She’d decided that, at least this would be a quick way to die, the bomb
going off in her mouth, the force of the blast propelling her rapidly into
oblivion.

Megan looked over the wires, carefully,
attempting to decide which ones she thought were the best option for
disconnecting the battery. Her gaze kept getting drawn to a turquoise blue
strand. She tried to think clearly, but at this point her brain was confusing her.

Oh, Derek! Megan cried.

Tears began to mix with the sweat in her
eyes, and she gritted her teeth and flung her head to and fro like a terrier,
clearing her vision. She used her tongue and nose to position the blue wire to
a point where she could easily work it with her mouth.

She opened her mouth, and her pearly
white, perfect teeth gently went to work, gnawing the wire.

I hope this works, she thought, as she
worried at the plastic coating.

It tasted awful, and she kept spitting
bits of it out onto the dry hardwood floor of the barn.

From the corner of her eye, she saw the
timer.

Only two minutes left!

Megan had gotten through the plastic, and
now her teeth encountered the bitter taste of raw copper. It smelled and tasted
like blood, and she bit and chewed as hard as she could.

The wire cut into the corner of her mouth,
and scored small incisions in it.

A drop of red blood oozed around the wire
now, and slowly dripped down her chin and neck. One of her teeth chipped and
she shouted out in pain as she bit her tongue.

She reflexively recoiled with her body,
and suddenly she knew it was over. The delicate balancing act with the chair
had been lost and she braced herself for the impact as she toppled over and her
head smacked into the floor.

Megan saw stars, and then unconsciousness
began to claim her. She heard Derek’s deep booming voice, calling her name.

We’ll finally be together, in Death, was Megan’s
last thought before the bomb exploded.

DEREK

I scream through the Miami traffic,
blowing by police cars and civilians alike on the
Haybusa
.

It’s designed for speeds upwards of 190
miles per hour, and I push it to the limit.

I barely escape a collision with slower
moving traffic too many times to count, scraping by with only a whisker of
space.

But, an inch is as good as a mile, and I
speed on, knowing I need to get to the marina to stop Tanner and King, and save
Megan.

The bike wheelies as I throttle up and
gear down, going 150 on one wheel past a dumbfounded State Trooper.

I smile at him, and he throws on the pursuit
lights for all of five seconds, before deciding he hasn’t a chance to catch me.
He circles back, pulling into the median.

I see him vanish in my mirror, and I take
the next curve fast, slewing the bike low to the ground as I race down the
highway, dodging the traffic.

I worry about the Trooper radioing ahead
for a road block, but now I see my exit, and suddenly I’m braking hard not to
slam into a delivery van.

The bike feels loose under me, and I lean
over and yank the handlebars, downshifting to get traction.

The motor whines as I pull clutch, and
then pop it, and I’m in the clear again.

Down the back-streets to the Marina, I see
Tanner walking towards a boat.

It’s the
“Punta Gordo II”
!

Sam’s boat!

In the distance, I can hear a Blackhawk.
Alpha Team is on the move!

I see the ‘Hawk zoom by overhead, and hear
cannon fire.

What the fuck?

The helicopter noisily maneuvers in the
sky, and I hear the whining of the blades as they grab for air.

Another explosion.

Sounds like a deck gun, probably a
five-incher.

It must be on the yacht!

Then, the unmistakable sound of the
‘Hawk’s minigun opening up, like fabric ripping, and a final boom from the
cannon and the only noise now is the chopper, hovering.

As I pull onto the dock, there are men
running from the pier, and it looks like someone took a sledgehammer to the wharf.

There’s a couple bodies draped over some
pilings.

I race the bike down to the end of the
dock towards Tanner, who sees me and quickly crouches.

The man is fast, I’ll give him that!

He has his Glock out and is about to shoot
when I slide the bike down, and leap off.

It caroms off the wall of the warehouse,
and I’m rolling over and over until I stop next to Tanner.

I sweep his feet out from under him, and
he hits the deck hard, losing the gun.

“You bastard!” I yell.

“Where’s Megan!” I say, shouting and
grabbing him in a head lock.

“Fuck you!” he snarls at me, and elbows me
in my already bruised rib.

I drop him, and whirl to the attack, and
see he’s drawn a knife.

Looks like a Bench made butterfly knife.

Deadly and fast…

“Where is she, asshole?” I say.

“Fuck you again!” he replies.

Tanner comes at me with his knife, but I
already know how I am going to deal with him.

He edges towards the side of the dock,
arcing the knife at me.

I watch his hands, and when he feints
left, I grab him by the wrist, and bang his hand against one of the wooden
pilings.

The knife flies off, into the water.

“You’re dead, asshole” he says to me.

“And so is that cunt, in three more
minutes! She’s going to blow up along with everything on this marina!” he
yells.

I grab him, and force his head to his
chest.

He tries to stamp on my instep, and flails
while I tighten my hold.

“Where is she?” I hiss in his ear.

I put more pressure on him, and twist his
head, so that I know he’s feeling some major pain.

“Inside the warehouse, but you’ll be dead
with her!” he grunts.

That’s the last thing he’ll ever say to
anyone, I think, and I punch him in the stomach, as hard as I can.

Grabbing a huge breath of air, I shove off
the dock, and into the water.

As I feel the warm water surround us, I
relax because I am in my element.

Tanner’s not so lucky.

He’s out of breath, and sucking in water.

Tough shit for him, I think.

I just grab Tanner’s shirt, and keep
diving down, swimming with my legs.

I push Tanner deep under, propelling him
with my body, as I swim to the bottom.

I grab hold of a piling with my legs, and
anchor my body.

Now, it’s just a matter of waiting.

I know I knocked the breath out of him,
and I keep up the pressure by pushing him against the sandy floor.

I can feel his bubbles as he starts to
choke on the water.

I pound him into the sand, again and
again, until he stops moving.

It’s not the first time drowning a man for
me…but this time I feel no remorse.

This man deserves his Fate, and I am but
the instrument of delivery.

Soon, Tanner goes limp, but I kick him in
the stomach twice, just to be sure he isn’t faking.

I feel nothing but water being expelled
from his lungs.

I paddle to the surface, leaving Tanner’s
corpse beneath the water of the marina.

Someone else can retrieve it.

*****

Jumping out of the water onto the wrecked
dock, I run to the warehouse and yank open the door, almost knocking it off its
hinges.

“Megan! Megan! Hang on!” I shout.

I can see her lying, on the floor, next to
the bomb.

She’s naked, and tied to a chair.

I run to the bomb, and the timer is set to
blow it in only another minute.

Quickly giving the mechanism a look, I
don’t see any mercury switch, but there are many ways to detect motion.

GPS and accelerometers have made defusing
these things very dangerous for EOD technicians.

I decide I don’t have time for niceties,
and suddenly I see how I can solve my problem.

I hear King and Floori talking to each
other, as they start moving out of the marina in Sam Parker’s boat.

“Hurry up, Floori! That bomb is about to
go off, and we need to be far away when it does!” I hear King say.

Scooping the the bomb up, I give it an
overhand toss it out the window.

The
“Punta Gordo II”
is just
passing by, with King and Floori aboard.

I guess they decided not to wait for
Tanner.

It’s a great throw.

The bomb lands just behind the flying
bridge.

The boat almost makes it to the inlet
before it goes off.

I’m ducking down next to Megan when the
concussion blows all the glass from the windows of the building.

I shield her from the shards, and check
her pulse.

She’s breathing!

I slap her face lightly, then kiss her
cheeks.

“Derek, oh God, Derek!” she mumbles.

Then, her eyes open wide and she sees me.

“DEREK!” she screams.

“You’re alive! I thought Tanner had shot
and killed you! Oh, darling, can it really be you, or am I dead and in Heaven?”
she exclaimed.

“It’s me. Tanner did shoot me. But, he
didn’t kill me,” I said. “Unfortunately for him,” I added.

“He won’t be bothering us anymore,
sweetheart. Neither will King,” I said.

“The bomb? What happened?” she asked.

I began to untie her, and loosened her
bonds.

“I threw it onto the
“Punta Gordo II”
.
King and Floori were escaping with the last load of heroin,” I said.

“Then that explosion was…” she started.

But, I had Megan’s arms and legs freed,
and I silenced her with a kiss.

We held each other, and I stroked her hair.

A tear worked its way down her right
cheek.

“Judge Turner is dead,” she said. “King
killed him.”

“King has paid for his sins, Megan,” I
said.

I noticed her nakedness, and she put her
head into the space between my head and chest, nuzzling me.

“Make love to me, Derek,” Megan pleaded.
“Make love to me now, please, just make love to me.”

I remembered that Randy told me he had
moved my speedboat to the marina a few days back, when they were surveilling
the heroin operations.

Looking around, I and saw it moored on the
other end of the docks.

I wrapped my jacket around Megan, and then
I picked her up and carried her out to my speedboat, and then over the side and
into the cabin.

Megan held me the entire way, her mouth
pressed against the wet skin of my chest.

I lay her down on the bed, and she spread
her legs.

Her pussy was wet with her need.

The hairs had little droplets of moisture,
and her heady perfume made my senses buzz.

I lowered my mouth to her, and licked
until she came.

Her nipples were as hard as pencil
erasers, and she bucked and pushed my face into her wetness, as I licked her
clean.

My cock was hard and ready, and she pulled
my shorts down and off.

She kissed the head, and sucked the shaft
for only a minute or so, and then lay back.

I put the tip of my dick against her pussy
and rubbed it back and forth over her clit. She moaned with pleasure, her mouth
making a perfect “O”, inviting me to kiss it.

I shoved my tongue into her mouth, and she
wrapped hers around it as I entered her.

“Derek! I love you! Oh, my, how much I
love you! God!” she cried.

“I love you too, Megan, my sweet, sweet
darling stepsister!” I replied.

Another groan of pleasure was stifled by
our kiss, as we joined as one.

My cock thrust deeply into her, and her
pussy grabbed it as though it were a hand in a velvet glove.

As we fucked, her breathing became
rougher, and she gasped as she approached her next orgasm. Digging her nails
into my back, I felt her scratching as she came, and she howled with the
intensity.

Her hips shoved against me, smacking again
and again against my hard meat.

She gyrated her big thighs and grabbed my
ass, pulling me tight against her.

Megan’s taut nipples dug small holes into
my chest as she grabbed on for the ride.

Soon, I felt my own climax approaching,
and I kissed her hard as I shot an enormous load of hot cum deep into her,
filling her completely.

“Derek! Fuck me, love! Fuck me hard! Oh,
Derek! I love you! Fuck me!” she screamed, and I pounded her harder and harder
until she finally collapsed on the bed, her eyes barely open, her lashes
flickering as she mindlessly came again and again with each thrust.

I finally lay on top of her, spent and
emptied, as the tide gently rocked the boat.

Megan made small mewling noises, as my cum
dripped from her pussy, drenching us both.

She regained her senses, and kissed me,
sucking on my tongue, licking my chin, tasting her salty sweet juices and
cleaning my face.

Then, she put a finger on my lips, and
moved so that her head was on level with my drooping cock.

She began to lick and suck it, cleaning
all of our love juices from it, until it began to rise again.

I returned the favor, licking her pussy,
kissing her thighs and ass.

I ran my tongue over her brown eye and she
gasped, then shoved her mouth over my cock and sucked me all the way into her
throat.

The feeling was exquisite and intense.

She kept sucking and scratched the skin of
my balls, between the sack and my asshole.

I felt her keeping the pressure on my
shaft, and knew I was about to come again.

Megan sensed what was about to happen, and
raised her head to look me straight in my eyes.

She smiled around the massive meaty tool
shoving into her face, over and over, and I could see the tip of her tongue
tracing the bottom of my glans.

That did it!

With a groan, I came again, and she
swallowed my cock whole, and drank every drop of my milky, creamy semen.

I could hear her gurgling and choking a
bit as it shot into her throat, and she gulped twice, trying mightily not to
lose a single bit of it.