Page 9 of Fall of the Trident
Rooster’s eyebrows flew up.“You didn’t mention safes.”
“Like most Caribbean banks, there’s no money inside them.”When Big Daddy realized his friend never had the kind of money he needed to hide in an offshore bank, he explained, “Caribbean banks are usually used as a steppingstone from the United States to a legitimate bank somewhere else in the world.There’s no money, no tellers, and certainly no ATMs.As a bank, it has routing numbers and account numbers.Americans, or anyone else, can establish an account online.When they want to transfer money to some place they don’t want traced, such as my travel agency, they’ll move the money to a bank on my island, then immediately bounce it to another account.It could actually jump all over the world before it lands in my real account which happens to be the bank I own on my island.The actual cash, of course, is in Switzerland.”
“Holy fuck.You established a bank while you were here?”His friend drained his glass and handed it to one of the blonde twins headed to the galley.
“Mr.Rooster, would you like another drink?”She leaned over and rubbed her hand up and down his zipper that covered his cock.“Or can I get you something else?”
He removed her hand.“Maybe later.”
For the rest of the flight, they discussed short- and long-term plans for the island.
Once on the ground and inside the private hangar, the men departed, and the girls reported to Big Daddy.No one had been abused, but he already knew that.His men would have reported any mistreatment.Several girls flashed cash they’d received as tips.A limousine pulled into the hangar next to the stairs.
“Hound will take you to the house.Rest, play in the pool, sit in the hot tub, I don’t really care.Just remember, if you are sunbathing, you must wear the bathing suits provided.”Over the years he’d learned that men who desire little girls, want them to look innocent.Tan lines from conservative bathing suits brought more money.
“Tomorrow afternoon at two o’clock be dressed in shopping clothes.”Big Daddy braced.
The cabin of the plane filled with high-pitched squeals.
“And don’t forget, day after tomorrow is the photo shoot.Clothes will be provided so what you buy tomorrow is for you.”
Excited screams followed his announcement.
At his nod, Hound herded the scantily clad girls out of the plane.
Bowie automatically stepped to his side as his only remaining bodyguard.
Big Daddy stood and directed his attention to Michael.“Call the architect in Virginia and take him down to the island as soon as he’s ready to leave.Tomorrow wouldn’t be soon enough.I’d like rough sketches and ideas by the end of the week, first draft plans within two weeks.”
“Getting materials to the island is going to be our greatest challenge.”His friend unfolded himself from the comfortable leather seats and stretched.“I’ll push for a materials list and get it headed south.”
Three hours later, Big Daddy slid into his D.C.club through a hidden door.Similar to the one he’d had in Los Angeles, he’d bought an old three-story manufacturing facility on the Maryland side of the city, just outside the Beltway.Like the one on the West Coast, he’d built an indoor parking garage so no one could see who entered and left.He kept the twelve-foot chain-link fence topped with barbed wire and installed a state-of-the-art keypad.Each member, and guest, had their own five-digit code.
From the outside, the place looked like a rundown, unused business.The well-hidden cameras captured everything inside and outside the fence.The disheveled exterior was a perfect cover for what lay inside.The well-lit parking garage and roving guards assured the high-end cars were safe.It too was monitored constantly by cameras.
He was thrilled to see so many senators, congressmen, and high-ranking governmental officials being entertained by his girls.He’d recently expanded to allow three ambassadors access to the club once they’d paid the million-dollar commitment fee.As he walked through, flanked by lethal bodyguards including Hound, several people approached him with special requests.More blondes was repeated several times.One wanted younger girls.Another requested two from the Orient and offered to pay extra if he could have them both their first night at the club.The biggest surprise that night came from a movie producer.He wanted a heavyset dark-haired girl.
Big Daddy and Hound had established hand signals indicating which requests to fill or ignore.He’d already given the bodyguard, who was also head of asset procurement, instructions to start filling the stable for the island.Hound had worked for him from the beginning after being thrown out of the Navy SEALs for being a Peeping Tom.
Running his fingers through his long hair, Big Daddy made a mental note that he needed to get a haircut before returning to work next week at the Pentagon.He had to make a concerted effort to find someone with more stars than he wore that he could entrap since his mentor retired two years ago and moved to Florida.Although he could retire whenever he chose, he liked the ability to move among the rich and famous, powerful and gullible, hidden behind his Navy uniform.
The Trident he wore above rows and rows of ribbons was his greatest shield, even better than the gold star he wore on each collar.
No one would believe that a rear admiral, a Navy SEAL, would run a child sex trafficking business.
Chapter4
Trevor listenedto his voice mail messages as he filled his suitcase with everything he’d need for the quick turnaround at Little Creek.Since they would take off at six p.m.California time, which was already nine in Virginia, they wouldn’t reach the base until close to one in the morning.His plan was to go immediately to the quarters they provided for him and sleep.Although he’d already told Captain Don Arnold it wasn’t necessary to meet him at that late hour, the Group 2 commanding officer insisted.
Arrangements had been made for the admiral to meet all the officers in Group 2 for breakfast, then with the SEALs involved in the rescue at eight.His plan was to thank them, then grant immediate leave until Monday morning.He’d have time for lunch before hopping back on the airplane to be on the West Coast for the same speech and leave announcement.Thank Christ he had a small private jet at his disposal.
He placed socks in the bag then hit the button for the next recorded call.“Hey, Dad, just checking on you.I guess I now know why you were busy on Sunday.The press is going wild—” He hit redial before listening to the remainder of the message.
“Dad.Thanks for calling back.”His oldest son always sounded happy to talk to him.
“Levi, I’m so sorry that we weren’t able to talk on Sunday.”Trevor chuckled.“I’ve been so busy since I was notified of the mission on Saturday that I barely had time to shower and change my uniform.”
“I remember those days when you’d all but run into the house, take the steps two at a time up your bedroom.Five minutes later, you’d be hunting us down, hugging us goodbye.”Levi was absolutely right.Trevor refused to leave the house without hugging each of his kids, kissing them on the forehead, until they became too old for such a display of affection.Then he’d tell them that he loved them, even though they were embarrassed to hear it.That was their routine.
