Page 8 of Milk
I didn’t tell Jason that I just didn’t want him to be in trouble. If I got caught, I was okay with the consequences. I didn’t want him charged as my accomplice. Instead of saying that, I just nodded.
Old man Henderson didn’t mind driving me closer to the entrance of Sunshine Sanctuary facility (hopefully out of sight). I walked a little distance away from his car, towards the large metal gates with two security cameras and ominous signs about armed security. Then I called the same number I did the previous day.
“Sunshine Sanctuary Production Plant, Susan speaking.”
“Hello, Susan. This is Agent Auble, we talked yesterday? About an inspection?”
“Oh yes, I remember, Agent Auble. We are waiting for you.”
I wiped the sweat from my forehead, looking up to the bright sun blazing above me. Another downside of being heavy – heat worked double-time on me. My tits were sweating and leaving wet spots on the part of my sundress tucked under them.
“I’m outside,” I informed, pulling the lanyard where I had my fake FDA badge. I flashed it at one of the security cameras, then the other. “So, whenever you’re r-”
There was a loud clunking sound, followed by metal rumbling and gears whirring. The gates started to open, reminding me of that iconic scene fromJurassic Parkall the same.
As the gates parted, they revealed a large industrial parking lot. A woman in a salmon pantsuit stood at the threshold of the gates. She pressed a finger to her ear and her voice came both from her mouth and from my phone. This was Susan.
“Welcome to Sunshine Sanctuary, Agent Auble. Please, come with me so we can begin.”
I hung up and nodded, adjusting my ‘inspection agent’ vest. I tucked my phone in one of its pockets and pulled out a notebook. I pretended to take notes, looking around while walking to Susan.
“Thank you, Susan,” I said once I was close enough. “Where shall we start the tour?”
“Oh, I’m just here to escort you to our administrative building. I won’t be joining you on the tour. They’ll likely send our Plant Manager or perhaps our Branch Manager to show you around.”
“Branch Manager,” I repeated softly, trying to swallow my hesitance.
It was much easier to fool workers who were focusing on their jobs rather than some executive coming to deliberately babysit me. I shifted my weight from one leg to the other, causing my breasts to shift along with it, and uncomfortably tugged my vest and sundress to try to hide my cleavage.
“Well, management takes inspections very seriously, Agent Auble,” Susan said. “So, Shall we?”
“Yes. Let’s.”
Isat at my desk in my office, my eyes glued to the screen. I had to watch her. I had to watch Tiffany, or ‘Agent Auble’, sitting in the uncomfortable green room where she’d been told to wait. She’d stay right there until we got everything we needed on her. She was unique. She was gorgeous. I wouldn’t risk losing her to my own impatience. If one bit of information or leverage was missed, it could destroy the opportunity laid out in front of me.
Yet my instincts to taunt her couldn’t be suppressed, not entirely. Watching her cross and uncross her thick, vitiligo-spotted thighs and checking her phone compulsively every couple of minutes filled me with some admiration but also disdain for the woman. What was someone like her doing in such a dull, boring crusade against industrial farming? Did she not realize all she was? How beautiful she was?
She needed a strong guiding hand, and she needed to be herded. She needed my hand. I reached out to press the light-up S button for Susan’s desk. I spoke clearly. “Are we sure she cannot leave?”
“Sir, we have four men watching the room and she doesn’t look like a fast runner,” Susan said, voice dripping with disdain.
That bothered me. I could admit to being mean to her in my thoughts, but I didn’t like the way Susan talked about Tiffany. I didn’t like her taking such liberties. Not with my soon-to-be prized possession. I huffed to myself, deciding not to get into an argument. Too much was on the line and I would not be sidetracked.
“Bring her a glass of our milk, Susan. Make sure it’s always full,” I instructed.
“Yes, sir.”
“Bring it cold and raise the AC temperature in that room by a couple of degrees. Give her good reason to want to drink it,” I added with a smirk.
“Yes, sir,” Susan acknowledged again.
I took my hand off the button and focused on Tiffany, the beauty on my screen, before the door to my office opened. Igor walked in, stepping over my beautiful cow-hide rug, using a cloth to wipe blood from his knuckles. He was red and sweaty. He had ditched his grey suit and now wore only his white shirt, unbuttoned and tucked into his grey slacks. The open collar revealed a few tattoos across his chest. Those with knowledge would be able to identify them both as Russian prison gang tattoos and Spetsnaz special forces mark. Igor was in a dead-end job in a private military company, destined to make meager pay and then die unsung on some battlefield in Eastern Europe, Africa, or return to Russia to serve the rest of his sentence. I couldn’t tolerate that much talent being wasted. After a sternconversation with the leader of Igor’s unit, I’d purchased the man’s freedom.
Say what you will about Russians,I thought as I looked towards my favorite enforcer,but they are cunning businessmen. They know everything has a price and don’t hesitate to name it. It makes everything go much smoother.
“How much has he told you?” I asked before Igor could speak.
“Not much, sir.”
