[color=#000099][/color]
FIRSTLY THIS STORY IS NOT A WORK OF MINE.IT BELONGS TO A FRIEND OF MINE IN THE STATES BY NAME Bobby Brandt, n WITH HIS PERMISSION I AM POSTING IT HERE CURSE I KNOW ITS AN AMAZING STORY.
KINDLY ENJOY

Heavy Traffic Ch. 01 by BobbyBrandt © Some men deserve to die, but these three deserved to spend the rest of their miserable lives wishing they were dead. Sean "Recon" Wallace heard the woman screaming as soon as the doors to the van had opened. Noticing headlights in the pre-dawn darkness he had watched the van driving to the remote cabin of his neighbor Glenn Parker as he was cutting through the woods on his way to his own cabin about a mile farther into the southwest Georgia wilderness. The winding dirt road the van had chosen only had one destination, and Sean knew that Glenn neither invited guests to his cabin, nor welcomed them. Glenn's lack of hospitality wouldn't be an issue however, because he was currently in Washington, DC arguing a court case on behalf of one of the several Native American tribes that he represented on a Pro Bono basis. Glenn Parker took pride in the history of his cabin and resisted any impulse to improve upon its rustic nature. His great-grandfather had built the cabin out of hardwood logs that he had harvested himself from the land surrounding the site. The fireplace was constructed from stones that had once sat on the riverbed of the Flint River before the Army Corp of Engineers had dredged the channel to accommodate deep draft vessels. There was no glass in the windows, only shutters to open and close as the weather dictated. There was no running water, but there was a well pump handle mounted over the soap stone sink along the interior rear wall of the cabin as well as one on the side of the outhouse. Glenn would often be found by Sean using a bow saw to slice strips from a cedar log in order to have replacement shingles for his roof. The effort required to maintain the old cabin wasn't extensive, and Sean knew that Glenn relished the manual labor involved after having spent his professional career behind a desk or standing in a courtroom. Sean had left his own cabin well before dawn to check his traps. He had retrieved his captured prey and had expected to be back to his cabin before sunrise, but this diversion would obviously delay his plans to leave for the 250 mile drive to Atlanta. Tying his trapped Muskrat carcasses to the branch of a Live Oak tree, Sean had quietly approached Glenn's cabin from downwind as he had learned even before his Marine Corp Force Recon Training had tattooed the skill into his conscious and unconscious thoughts.

Not that there was much wind on this Wednesday morning in the middle of May. Later in the afternoon, as the heat of the day increased, the thunderstorms common to the area would likely arrive and bring with them gusts and possibly tornadoes, although these tended to stay to the north of this location. For now, Sean was comfortable with the temperature in the high sixties and the pre-dawn skies clear. Establishing an observation spot about 20 feet up on the branch of a Shagbark Hickory that had already sprouted most of its new growth leaves, he was in position prior to the van's eventual arrival, and he was well situated to witness the intentions of the men by both their words and their actions. Reverting again to his training, Sean assigned 'Tango' designations to each of his targets. Tango One was acting as a leader of the group, giving orders to the other two as he used a knife to start cutting the clothes from the woman. He was just under six feet, early forties, with a protruding forehead, dark Slavic hair and caveman-like features. Tango Two was about the same height and build, but lighter in skin tone and hair color. He was currently using a pry bar to remove the padlock and hasp from the door to Glenn's cabin. Tango Three stood a few inches over six feet, was thinner than his partners, but had the same simian characteristics as his associates. He alternated between holding an automatic rifle on the woman and unloading what appeared to be camera equipment from the back of the van. The woman continued to scream and struggle, but several brutal blows from Tango One to her abdomen took the sound out of her. Tango One had a handful of her long brunette hair wrapped into one of his fists as he pulled her face to his and yelled at her, "Just because I don't want any bruising or signs of abuse visible before we shoot our little movie, don't think for a second that you won't experience great pain if you fail to do exactly as you are told. Do you understand me Bitch?" Tango One lessened his grip on her hair enough to allow her to respond with a nod, and then tightened it again as Tango Two got the cabin door open and swung it wide for her to be pushed inside. Sean heard her stumble and fall into the cabin with the obvious sound of furniture being overturned in the process. When he saw one of the Tangos was opening all the shutters around the cabin, Sean quickly sought an observation post that would allow him to monitor the situation as it developed inside the cabin. He realized that this "green mission," where he would only need to assess, report, call in support and evade detection was going to become a "black mission" very soon, with him needing to neutralize the targets and extricate the hostage. Moving behind a large Laurel Oak tree on the north side of the cabin, Sean had a clear view through one of the windows. The early pre-dawn moonlight was coming through a west facing window, allowing enough light for the Tangos to navigate the cabin and for Sean to observe their movements. He watched as Tango Two moved the overturned furniture out of their way while Tango Three began setting up lights and cameras, which Sean found interesting since Glenn's rustic cabin didn't have any electricity. Tango One was still taunting and threatening the woman with his knife, occasionally cutting another piece of her clothing so that it would fall away from her body. With his advanced training in lethal and non-lethal close quarter combat, Sean really didn't need a weapon to be able to handle all three of the Tangos. Seven members of an al Qaeda terrorist group had the misfortune of running into Sean while they were attempting to breach the American Embassy in Tanzania. It had been a slaughter. All seven terrorists, each tough, hardened and armed, were dead within five minutes. Sean never even pulled his gun. He did it all with his hands, elbows and feet, moving with a speed, precision and power that the other Marine guards— with all their world travels—had never before encountered. Sean did have his Sharpfinger hunting knife if circumstances required, but he saw an opportunity to disarm and secure the Tangos without any struggle at all. Picking up a thin but sturdy eight inch piece of fallen tree branch about one-half inch in diameter and sliding around the cabin to the front porch, Sean tested the stability of the planks as he stepped lightly on the first one. He detected no sound or obvious vibration from his movement. Using this same degree of care and skill, he continued up on the porch and waited just outside the open door. Tango Two had pulled the mattress off Glenn's bed and placed it in the center of the room. Tango Three was moving back towards the door while facing his partners inside the room.

Once Tango Three was positioned with his body fully in the center of the doorframe with one of the cameras and had turned on the bright battery powered light affixed to it, Sean crouched behind him and pressed the hard piece of tree branch into his groin from behind. As Tango Three froze at the feeling of what he thought was the barrel of a gun against his privates, Sean quickly pulled the automatic rifle from his shoulder where it had hung by its strap while filming was getting prepared. Tango One was preoccupied preparing the woman for their first scene, while Tango Two had begun undressing. Sean put the rifle on "single shot" and fired one round into the rafters above the room. Pushing Tango Three before him into the room, the camera clattered to the floor where the light shattered and extinguished. Having been behind the camera light, Sean's eyes adjusted to the loss much quicker than the others in the room. Sean saw that Tango One had pulled the woman in front of himself as a shield, holding her hair with his left hand as he raised the knife menacingly with his right hand. With a speed of motion that surprised even Sean, the woman pivoted on her right foot, while at the same time digging the fingernails from both hands into the wrist holding the knife and pushing it away from her. Before Tango One could respond by yanking the woman's hair, she had brought her left knee into his groin. As her knee connected, Tango One grunted and released both her hair and the knife as he doubled over in pain. The woman quickly scurried away from his reach, retrieving the knife from the floor as she stood with her back against the wall brandishing the weapon in a defensive posture. While the smell of cordite filled the morning air, Sean kept the rifle trained on the three Tangos as he motioned for the woman to come to him. She looked drawn and frightened, but after some initial hesitation, she moved around the periphery of the room to the door of the cabin with Sean standing between her and the three men. She never took her eyes from Sean as she moved towards him. He was shorter than any of the three other men, probably around five foot ten inches, but he seemed so much bigger than them. She noted his long sandy colored hair, handsome facial features underneath several days of unshaven growth, broad shoulders and slim muscular physique. He was wearing blue jeans, low-rise leather hiking boots, and a tan fishing vest over a white polo shirt. While not muscle-bound, he exuded a strength such as she had never seen before in a man. If he wasn't the best looking man she had ever seen, which she suspected he might be, he was definitely the man she had the hardest time taking her eyes off of. Her first impression upon looking into his dark blue eyes, even in the dim light available, was one of a feral beast who had been wounded or cornered. An almost inhuman rage emanated from his expression towards the other men. She thought that it must be making the blood in the marrow of the men congeal with fright, but she instinctively knew that she was safe with him. Visions of heroes from all the romance novels she had read as a teenager came to mind, but this man surpassed images from any of those books. His radiated strength and confidence made her feel instantly safe and secure. There was also a familiarity to him that she could not explain. Like the arrow of a compass, she was drawn in his direction as if he were her magnetic north. She knew that she had never seen this man before - she would have definitely remembered him. "Wallets on the floor. Now!" Sean ordered as he brushed some of his hair off his face.. Tango Two and Three quickly removed their wallets and tossed them onto the floor at Sean's feet. Tango One was still recovering from the woman's assault, so he was slower to respond. With obvious effort, he straightened enough to reach into the rear pocket of his pants, removed his wallet and tossed it on the floor with the others. "Now, I want the three of you in a kneeling position on the floor where you will interlock your ankles and remain perfectly still. Once situated, you will each place your hands on top of your heads." When the three men were in a controlled position on the wooden plank floor, Sean knelt and began reviewing their identification within each wallet. "If the names on your driver's licenses are correct you all have names of Slavic origin. Are any of you United States citizens?" Tango One and Three just shook their heads, but Tango Two added in heavily accented English, "Green Cards. We're in the country legally." Sean tucked some loose hairs behind his ear and checked the wallets further finding current permanent resident identification cards for each under the same names as on the driver's licenses. "Too bad," Sean said. "Permanent residency does not equal citizenship, and that means that you are all still foreign nationals, which under the current Presidential Finding on Domestic Terrorism means that you are not afforded the protections under our Constitution guaranteed to citizens. There are more than thirty very painful ways I could kill each of you, but as long as you do what I tell you, I promise you will leave this cabin alive." The three men nodded in silent acceptance of their situation. Sean told Tangos Two and Three to return the mattress to Glenn's bed and then resume their positions next to Tango One. With the mattress on the bed, Sean motioned towards it and asked the woman to go sit on the bed while he dealt with their prisoners. She hesitated for a moment as she considered how far away from her savior she felt comfortable with while the three men were still in the cabin with them. Trusting that this stranger had them secure enough to send her away from him, and still holding the knife, she moved to the bed as he requested. "Take off your belts," Sean instructed the three Tangos. Tangos Two and Three complied quickly, but Tango One struggled to remove his belt with the continuing pain in his groin. Sean assumed that her blow had not only been well placed, but that it was also delivered with significant power for the man to still be in so much pain. Once all the belts were loose Sean had Tango Three secure Tango One and Tango Two's hands in front of their bodies with the belts, followed by Tango Two using his secured hands to also secure those of Tango Three in the same fashion. "Okay," said Sean, "I want each of you to now lay face down on the floor in front of you." It took some effort for Tango One, but in quick order all three were in a supine position with their hands stretched out in front of their heads and their ankles still interlocked. Sean knelt on his haunches in front of the men and started asking them questions. "Why did you choose this cabin as the site for your little project," he asked. Tango Two answered, "We were told it was remote and that the owner would not be here today." "Who told you this?" asked Sean. "I do not know his name and we never met him," said Tango Two, "but he is the one who provided us with the van and the gun." Sean considered this then asked, "How were you supposed to return the van to him?" "We weren't," was the answer. "It is stolen and we were just supposed to abandon it when we were through. "How did you contact each other?" Sean continued. "When we paid for the girl, a cell phone was given to us with a pre-programmed number for us to call." "Why don't we start at the beginning," Sean said. "Explain to me how you came to purchase this young lady." Tango Two motioned to Tango One and said, "Andre received a message last week that a cargo shipment included an attractive Australian girl who was untraceable. We have been using girls from the Czech Republic, Slovakia and Romania for mainstream pornographic movies, but when we learned that this girl would be untraceable, we decided to use her for the production of a snuff film." "How did you arrange for payment?" asked Sean. "We handed $20,000 to the crewmen who brought her to us from the ship," said Tango Two. "The one who counted the money then gave us the cell phone." "How did your contact know that you would need the use of a van?" "Andre had mentioned it when the location for the purchase was communicated to him," said Tango Two. "And how were the details of the purchase communicated?" Sean asked. "There is a website for amateur photographers to post ads listing items they either need to buy or want to sell. Coded communications are posted between buyer and seller if you know where to look." Sean had heard of such sites before being used for all sorts of illicit activities. "What is the name of this website?" Tango Two thought for a minute and replied, "tornwallpaper.eu". "Is there anything further you wish to tell me?" asked Sean "That's all we know," said Tango Two. Sean stood, approached them and coaxed Tangos Two and Three to move farther away from Tango One so that eventually, there was approximately a two foot space between each of their bodies. Stepping into the space between Tangos Two and Three, Sean laid the rifle aside. He brushed more hair out of his face and then stood facing the same direction that they were laying and adjusted his position until he was satisfied. Without further warning, he seemed to lose all support in his legs as his 170 pound body suddenly dropped; his fall being broken only by the contact of each of his elbows into the spines of the two men. The kinetic energy of his elbow joint striking the lowest indentation of their backs, exactly where the Th6 and Th7 vertebrae were located resulted in the expected "SNAP' sound of breaking bone. Before their screams of pain could reach a zenith, Sean quickly moved over to Tango One and repeated the elbow strike to the same spot on his spine with the same report in return. Sean retrieved the rifle, wiped his fingerprints from it and then hung it on a hook next to the front door. Looking over to the woman sitting on the bed, Sean considered her situation. She had a few scrapes and bruises on her body, and she appeared slightly malnourished as her ribs were more prominent than they should have been, but otherwise she appeared uninjured. All that remained of her clothing was her bra with both shoulder straps cut and her white panties. She held the knife in her lap as she sat watching him. She was a very attractive young woman he thought. Her hair was a mess due to the treatment it had received from Tango One, but he could see that it still flattered her facial features, or maybe it was her facial features that flattered her hair. Regardless, she appeared to be in her mid-twenties, with a slender athletic body on her five foot six frame. Her breasts were properly proportioned to her shape, and Sean guessed that they were either large 'B' or small 'C' cups. He judged by the way that their weight did not cause her bra to droop with the straps cut that they were as firm and pert as the rest of her appeared to be. His assessment was deliberately limited to her physical condition, but by the way she held herself before him, there was something about her innocent, yet regal bearing that piqued his interest in several ways. Sean went to the cedar chest at the foot of Glenn's bed and opened it as the woman continued to silently watch his movements. Rummaging through it for a few minutes, he produced a pair of sweat pants and a T-shirt that while a bit large for the woman, they would provide her with temporary modesty until more appropriate clothing could be located for her. Tucking some more of his long hair behind an ear with one hand, he handed the garments to the woman with his other and asked her, "Did you have any shoes?" She set the knife on the bed and shook her head before pulling the T-shirt over it. Sean looked around the cabin and found a pair of flip-flop sandals that Glenn probably used when he had to visit his outhouse during the night. Again, these would be too large for the woman, but they would serve until other footwear could be obtained. Sean brought the sandals to her and laid them at her feet as she finished slipping on the sweatpants. The bottom of the pants hung about three inches below her heels and Sean noticed that she had them pulled up as far at her waist as was possible. "Would you like me to roll up the bottom of the pants for you?" He asked her in the most soothing voice he could muster. "It might make it easier for you to walk until I can find you something else to wear." She looked in his eyes and saw a noticeable change from the earlier "beast", so she nodded in response. "Good," he said. "Why don't you sit back on the bed for a minute and we'll make quick work of this for you."

When she saw that his intentions were just to correct the length of her pant legs, she eased back until she was seated once more on the edge of the bed. She had picked the knife up and again held it in her lap as she watched his movements. She didn't hold the knife out of fear, she held it simply to keep track of where it was. Sean began with one leg, rolling the fleecy material up until it reached the bottom of her ankle. When he released the material, he noticed that it almost immediately started to unroll itself. Considering the lightweight nature of the pants, he was going to need to secure the rolled up section with something to keep it in place. After a few seconds of thought, he reached into his fishing vest and pulled out a pre-strung fish hook. Using the fish hook and short strand of line much like a needle and thread, he ran a couple of loops of line through the front and back of the rolled material, tying each off with a simple Uni-knot. Satisfied with the results, he repeated the same process with the other pant leg. "You obviously speak English, right?" It wasn't really a question. She gave her first small smile as she said, "I speak Australian English, and so I would be more concerned with you understanding me." The smile she blessed him with had been designed in heaven for angels to wear. He knew at that instant that he would strive to see her smile as often as possible. Sean returned her smile and said, "I have spent a lot of time with the Australian Special Air Service Regiment but none of them spoke in such a sweet accent as yours. Are you okay physically or do you require further medical treatment?" "I'm fine thanks to you," she said. "Where did you come from?" Sean stood and walked over to the open door. After looking outside for a minute he motioned her to join him on the porch before he responded quietly. "I have a cabin about a mile from here. I was returning from checking my traps when I saw the van heading down the dirt road leading here and knowing that Glenn Parker, who owns this cabin, was on a business trip, I decided to investigate." "I'm glad you did," she said. Glancing back in at the three men on the floor she added, "Did you hear what they intended to do?" Sean also glanced down at the three Tangos on the floor. Their initial pain had rendered them virtually unconscious but an occasional moan could still be heard. Two of the men had visibly evacuated their bladders and from the smell, at least one had also released his bowels. He nodded at the woman in response and said, "I suspect that you would have eventually saved yourself, but I'm glad to have been able to assist." "Did you just break their spines?" she asked. Sean studied her face and saw that simple curiosity was the only evident expression present. "Yes I did. I promised them that they would leave this cabin alive, but I couldn't live with myself if I left them capable of ever doing what they had planned for you on some other woman in the future." She nodded, walked across the porch to the open door and stuck the knife into the wood planks next to the door jam, looked Sean directly in the eyes and said, "Thank you." "Where did you come from?" Sean asked her. "I mean I assume you're originally from Australia, but how did you come to meet up with this group?" "I was working as a nurse for an all-girl orphanage in East Timor. On a trip from the orphanage in the Manufahi District to the capital in Dili, our bus was captured by slave traders. Originally, the traders were going to kill me, but they decided to keep me with the girls to help care for them until they could be sold into slavery. I later learned that they decided that I had a market value of my own, so once the ship we were on reached its destination, I was separated from the girls and sold to those men." "Why would they consider you 'untraceable'?" he asked. "Wouldn't somebody miss you?" "Right after we were captured I was asked who I was and if I had any family who would pay a ransom for my release. When I told them that I had no family, they stopped asking questions and I was never able to tell them that I had others who would pay for my return." "How long had these men had you?" Sean asked. "They bought me this morning," she said, looking out into the early morning darkness in front of the cabin. "We had been on the ship for more than a month by my count of the days. I didn't realize I was in the United States until you mentioned to those men that they were not citizens of this country. Where exactly am I in your country?" "What?" he asked in amazement. "You mean the ship that you were on came here? You're in the State of Georgia - the very southwest corner. Do you know where that is?" He had assumed that the men had picked her up along the coast and driven her here. "Not really, but it doesn't matter right now. I know approximately where Atlanta, Georgia is because of the Olympics being held there, but that's the extent of my geographic knowledge. The ship didn't dock as far as I know. I was placed into a small motor boat and brought to shore where these men were waiting for us, signaling the men in the boat with flashlights. We only drove for what seemed to be an hour or less before arriving here so we couldn't have come too far. It was dark and I was on the floor in the back of the van so I don't know the route they took or anything."

Sean considered this information. He knew that Lake Seminole was part of the Apalachicola waterway, providing deep-water port access as far inland as Columbus, Georgia. The marshy coves and inlets north of Recovery, Georgia is where he had been setting his traps and would be a likely location for the transaction the woman and Tango Two had mentioned. "Were the orphan girls still on the ship when you were taken off?" he asked her. "Yes, they were and they were very frightened to see me being taken from them." "Do you happen to know the name of the ship you were on, or can you describe it?" Sean prodded. "I think it was called the 'Costa Verde' because I saw that name painted on the life boats hanging from the side of the ship when the motor boat that had come out to meet us pulled away from the side of the ship as it brought me to land. I do know it flew a Portuguese flag." "That's a good start," Sean said. "Now we need to decide on what to do with you. I assume that you don't want to wait here with these men until I can send someone back to pick them up?" "That would not be my first choice," she admitted. "Can't you use the cell phone in the van to call for help?" "There is no cellular service out here," he told her. "I have a land line at my cabin, but it's a mile walk through the woods and your footwear wouldn't handle that trip." "Why can't we drive there in the van?" "There are several reasons. First of all, my treatment of those men could be viewed as criminal by the local authorities, so the less my involvement is known, the better. Secondly, the van is stolen and is technically part of the crime scene here now. Plus, by the time we drove back up Glenn's drive to the road and then took it to the drive leading to my cabin we could already be most of the way there following the path through the woods." She considered this, and then looked at the feet of each of her three captors. She then walked over to Tango Three and ignoring the stench in the room, pulled off one of his shoes and held the sole against the bottom of her foot. Appearing satisfied, she proceeded to pull off the other shoe, along with his socks from both feet. Sean simply watched her with interest. He sensed that spending time with her would be an adventure. "Were there any socks in the chest where you found these items?" she asked, indicating the garments that Sean had found for her. She walked out the door and onto the front porch. "There were some, but you have the socks from him," Sean said as he pointed to Tango Three. "I'll use those to take up space inside the shoes because they're too big for me, but I would prefer that my skin didn't have to touch them." Sean continued to admire her spirit as she seemed to be recovering from her ordeal. "Let me see what I can find for you." Holding his hair out of his face again as he looked down, he searched through the cedar chest until he found a pair of white crew socks, joined her on the porch and handed them to her. "Thank you... What is your name by the way?" Sean made sure that the Tangos were not able to hear their conversation before responding, "I guess that might help. My name is Sean Wallace, but my friends call me 'Recon'." Sean didn't hear her gasp, but he did see her raise her eyebrows and smile as she sat on the front steps of the cabin and began to pull the crew socks onto her feet. "I can't tell you what a pleasure it is to meet you, Sean Wallace. My name is Amanda, but I also answer to 'Mandy' if I like the person using the name. By the way, I like you. I like you heaps, so call me anything you want." "I think I'll start with Amanda and see how it rolls off my tongue for a while if that's okay with you," he said." She finished with the socks and began preparing the shoes, "Try it. Let me hear how my name rolls off your tongue. I've never heard my name spoken with an American accent." Sean appeased her and said, "Amanda is a beautiful name and I'm certain it sounds wonderful with any accent." "Thank you," she said. "It sounds strange, but not unpleasant. I could get used to you using it." "How do the shoes feel?" Sean asked as she finished tying them and stood. "Good enough for now," she said. "I wouldn't want to have to run far in them, but they should be able to get me to your cabin without any blisters, turned ankles, or much tripping. So do you plan to just leave these men here for now?" "Sure," Sean said as he pushed the door of the cabin closed and stuck the knife into the door jamb to hold it shut. He wiped his fingerprints from the handle and continued, "They're not going anywhere and the local Sheriff should be able to get people out to collect them before any of the wildlife around here become brave enough to enter the cabin. Are you ready?" Amanda walked over and took his hand. "Ready Sean."

Heavy Traffic Ch. 02 by BobbyBrandt © When she took his hand, they both felt something different. It was like a switch had been thrown with her touch. Sean suddenly felt like he had more blood in his body than he had had just a minute ago, and he could almost swear that he felt it warming as it rose up his arm, through his shoulder, and further into his body and soul. He didn't understand it, but he took notice of it and enjoyed brief thoughts of what it foretold. Amanda felt strength in Sean's touch such as she had never experienced before. While she had held the hands of a few ranch workers and other men who had tough, strong, calloused hands; in Sean's she felt what she could only describe as the strength of a warrior rather than just a man. Feeling tender pressure from him against her skin, she knew that this hand held enough power to literally crush her own hand if he chose to. It felt like she was holding warm leather covered steel, but she knew she was safe - safer than she had ever been in her life as long as she held this hand. After leaving Glenn Parker's cabin, Sean had led her to the tree where he had left his trapped Muskrats and then to the partially beaten path that led to his cabin. Sean noted that she had not reacted to the carcasses, and merely accepted them with indifference as if she had some familiarity with dead game. The sun had started rising so there was adequate light for their hike. They had only been walking about ten minutes when her need for conversation could no longer be denied. The path was too narrow for them to walk side by side, so she was slightly behind Sean as she maintained a hold on his hand and let him lead her through the low tree branches, bushes, and fallen logs littering the ground. "Where did you get the nickname 'Recon'?" Amanda asked. "It's short for 'reconnaissance'," he told her as he continued to fuss with attempts to keep his hair out of his face. "I have always been good at tracking animals while hunting and sneaking up on them without being detected. That combined with my patience waiting for my target to be in the right position for a single-shot kill earned me the nickname. A lot of people think it's because I was part of the Marine Corp Force Recon, but I had the nickname years before joining the Corp." Sean had spent six years in the Marines after college. After boot camp, he had gone directly into Officer Candidate School where one of his instructors learned about Sean's training in Hsing- I, one of the famed Chinese internal martial arts and got him involved in the Marine Corp Martial Arts Program. He rose quickly through the degrees of the Marine Corp program, introducing several new techniques that were adopted and integrated into the regiment, becoming one of only ten Instructor Trainer Qualified Black Belts even before graduating from OCS. After a tour in Afghanistan, Sean was assigned as an instructor in close- quarter combat for the Marine Corp's Embassy Security Group, traveling around the world evaluating and upgrading the capabilities of Marines assigned to protect American Embassies and diplomats in foreign lands. "Were you raised near here in the wilderness?" she asked. The sun was starting to rise so that Amanda could now see more than dark shadows in the shapes of trees and shrubs. Sean laughed. "No, I was raised in two different places. With my mom, we lived in a suburb of Atlanta called Johns Creek. It was a pretty basic middle- class neighborhood and upbringing. With my dad, I lived in a mansion on a two hundred year-old estate along the Cumberland River that has been in his family for generations. It's located outside of Nashville, Tennessee and my time there was all high-society and pampered materialism at its finest." "So your parents were divorced?" "Actually, no," he said. "My mom and dad had a kind of 'serial' relationship. They loved each other till their dying day, but their differing views on what constituted 'the good life' made it impossible for them to live together. While they couldn't seem to live together for long periods of time, my parents remained married and neither of them ever strayed outside their vows to each other. I think they actually spent more quality time together as a couple than most married people who live together and see each other every day of the week. We took all of our family vacations together, spent every holiday together, they both were equally active in raising me and as long as we weren't in either's 'home turf', you would never guess that they were not the perfect couple." "Any brothers or sisters?" she asked. "No, just me." "You said 'till their dying day'. I'll understand if you don't want to talk about it, but did they both die?" Sean nodded. "Yeah, about three years ago. I was in the Corp at the time. They were taking an around the world sailing vacation on a yacht with some friends. Their yacht was captured by pirates - actually near East Timor, and even though the ransom was paid, they were all executed." "Oh Sean, how awful. Were the pirates ever brought to justice?" Sean simply looked down at her and nodded. The look in his eyes as he confirmed that justice had been served left no doubt in her mind who had meted out the justice for his parents. "You told my captors that you were no longer in the Marines. What do you do now?" "Right now? Well until I stumbled upon you, I have been sort of hibernating," he told her. "For the last ten months or so I have been soul searching and building my resolve to face the responsibilities that await me." "What sort of responsibilities do you face?" "Running the family business," Sean said, and the tone of his voice told Amanda that this was not a subject that she should pursue right at that time. "I understand," is all Amanda said. Sean continued walking and looked over his shoulder at her. He was feeling an almost visceral connection to this woman. When she didn't question him further on his revelation, he realized that maybe she really did understand.

Although she felt that she knew the answer already, Amanda caressed his hand with her thumb and asked the question anyway, "Do you have anyone that you can share your responsibilities with, someone who you can trust, like other rellies or friends?" "Rellies? "Sorry," Amanda giggled. "Relatives." Sean squeezed her hand in return but didn't otherwise reply to her question. Simultaneously, he thought to himself, "I might have just found someone." She started to ask him another question, but he stopped her. "Amanda, surprising as it is to me, I don't mind discussing my life with you, but we need to do it some other time. Right now we should focus on you telling me as much as you can remember about the ship, its layout, the number of girls onboard, the number of captors, and any weapons that they may have." "Of course, I'm sorry," she said. "I told you all I know about the possible name of the ship. It was an intermodal container carrier vessel with the deck covered in loaded carrier trailers. I don't know how large the crew is for the ship, or if they even knew about the girls and I being transported on the ship. Our only contact was with the six traders that originally took us from the bus. They had placed us into a container in, I assume Dili, which was then loaded onto the ship with a crane. The interior of the container had straw mats for us to lie on and two buckets for us to use as a dunnie, or toilet. There were twenty five girls with me, ranging in age from six to fifteen. Once a day, two of the traders would partially open the door to the container. The combination of traders varied from day to day, but I never saw more than six different faces. One would point a rifle at us while the other one came in and swapped out the buckets with clean ones. After that, they would bring us a big bowl of boiled rice and a gallon jug of water for us to share. Occasionally they would toss in some raw fish, and I tried to share the meager protein among the girls, but there wasn't always enough for each of them to have some." "Only one of them had a rifle when they came to the container?" Sean asked. "Yes," she confirmed, "and now that you mention it, even when they were commandeering our bus, only two of the traders that day had guns. The rest had machetes or knives only." "Did you notice anything else about the container, such as any name or identifying markings on it that would allow us to find it amongst all the others on the ship?" "It was dark when I was taken out and put into the motor boat, but I did notice that the container was sort of a rust orange or red color and we were pretty close to the back of the ship because they didn't have to walk me far on the deck before making me climb down a ladder hung over the side. Also, the containers are stacked three high and ours was on the bottom, sitting right on the deck." "Great info Amanda," he said in praise, "This will all be helpful once we locate the ship. You said that you didn't know if the crew was even aware of you and the girls being on the ship. Why do you think that?" She thought about his question before answering. "I got the impression that the traders were trying to keep us secret. For example, every time they opened the door to the container, the very first thing they told us was that if anyone made a sound, we would all be punished. This seemed strange for a ship in the middle of the ocean since no one could hear us except the crew. When we were passing through what I now assume was the Panama Canal, two of the traders stayed in the container with us to insure that no one made any noise. Then, when they were taking me from the container to the motor boat, they kept our path very close to the containers and they were very diligent in their efforts for us not to be seen by anyone else on the ship." "So you never heard any discussions on where the ship was headed?" "No, I'm sorry," she said. Sean reviewed and tried to organize what they did know as they walked the last thousand yards to his cabin. The house sat in a clearing that left natural growth meadows extending from the structure more than 100 feet to the nearest trees. It was even more remote than Glenn Parker's, but unlike Glenn, Sean's cabin was approximately 2000 square feet of professionally constructed log cabin ranch house, had indoor plumbing, running water, a satellite dish on the roof and a diesel generator running in a shed set off from the cabin which provided him with all the electricity required for today's modern conveniences. There was a detached garage that appeared large enough for at least three full size vehicles. Solar panels were creatively integrated into the roof of all the structures. Although it had a rustic appearance, Amanda thought calling this house a cabin was akin to calling the Pacific Ocean a 'Sea'. Sean unlocked the front door, disabled the alarm and held it open for Amanda to enter. Her first impression, based solely upon television shows she had seen, was that she had entered a typical suburban American home with a large screen television mounted above the fireplace, beautiful hardwood floors covered strategically with oriental rugs and a very modern and well equipped kitchen visible through a cutout across the living room. The space was clean and tidy; not at all what one would expect for the domicile of the outdoorsman that Sean appeared to be. Amanda stopped to examine a large photo portrait on one wall that showed a handsome man in his forties, a beautiful young woman with blonde hair, and a teenage Sean between them. Sean's features were obviously shared from his parents, but he definitely had his mother's eyes and his father's smile. "Are these your parents?" she asked. "Yes, that picture was taken just after my sixteenth birthday." "What were their names?" "Edward Sean Wallace and Allison Elizabeth Askew-Wallace," said Sean. "They went by 'Eddie' and 'Allie'." "Your mother appears much younger than your father. What was the age difference between them?" Sean laughed and said, "I'm sure she would love to hear you say that. She was actually thirteen days older than my father." "Wow!" is all Amanda said as she continued exploring the room while following Sean into the house. Amanda was particularly intrigued by the prominent role in the living room played by the largest stuffed Teddy Bear that she had ever seen. The large, black stuffed bear sat on what looked like a specially built milking stool and would be spotlighted by a recessed bulb in the ceiling had it been turned on. Positioned in a sitting pose on the stool, it was still taller than Amanda standing before it. "Someone like Teddy Bears?" she asked. Without expression on his face, Sean replied, "My Uncle Kirby gave that to me years ago as a sort of joke." He left his explanation there and proceeded into the kitchen area with Amanda following. Sean's cabin had been built by his father as a private get-away for his grandparents, but his grandfather had died before they ever got a chance to use it. The two thousand square foot "cabin" was designed and built with the comfort of Sean's paternal grandmother in mind, knowing that she would not accept anything too rustic, regardless of how remote it might be. Sean believed that this was probably the only residence of any kind within a hundred miles that had a room designated for a maid, although it had never been used for that purpose. He didn't share any of this with Amanda. Sean arrived in the kitchen and put the Muskrats into the freezer. "They'll hold there until I get a chance to deal with them further." "What do you do with them?" Amanda asked as she followed him into the kitchen. The area was lit from above by a leaded-glass skylight that brought the early morning sunshine warmly into the room. "I sell them to a dealer in Bainbridge who in turn sells them to the cooks on ships, mostly from Southeast Asian countries. Both the fur of the Muskrat as well as the meat are highly valued by the crews of these ships. Would you like something to eat or drink?" "Do you have any eggs?" she asked. "I'm starving, but I probably shouldn't eat anything too solid or rich after the limited diet we have had for the past several weeks. Is that how you make your living, selling animals to the ships?" "I think I have a couple of eggs left in the door of the refrigerator," he said. Ignoring her other question he asked, "Would scrambled eggs be okay?" She noticed that he had avoided her question about how he made a living, but let it pass. If this was actually his cabin, he had some source of income and what it was didn't matter to her just then. "Scrambled eggs would be wonderful." she told him. "I have been trying to use up most of my food because I had planned on heading to Atlanta today. I didn't want to leave too much here to spoil before I came back, so you would be doing me a favor by eating anything you find that suits your taste." Sean pulled a skillet off the overhead rack above the island stove, retrieved a bowl from a cupboard, and then the two last eggs from the refrigerator. Amanda took the eggs from his hand and assumed a position in front of the bowl where she proceeded to break the eggs into it. Sean handed her a whisk before turning the burner on beneath the skillet on the stove. Amanda took a dab of butter from the dish in the refrigerator and added it to the skillet. Accepting that Amanda was comfortable preparing her own meal, Sean announced, "I'm going to take a quick shower if you're okay here for a minute." "Go ahead," Amanda said. "Don't worry about me." "Thanks. Make yourself at home." Sean walked out of the kitchen and down a hallway out of sight. Amanda watched him as he went, and could sense a loss of something undefined for her as each step took him farther away. Amanda was sitting on a stool at the kitchen counter starting to eat her eggs when Sean returned from his shower. She had found some bread and also made herself some plain toast to have with her eggs. His hair was still damp, combed back, tucked behind his ears on each side and hanging well over his collar in back. He was clean shaven and had changed into a mint green polo shirt and clean blue jean pants. His hiking boots had been replaced by a pair of athletic shoes but his casual appearance did little to diminish the strength and security that Amanda felt in his presence. She also couldn't ignore how much this man had flamed her blood from the moment she had set eyes on him. Sean pulled out a stool as he placed his land line phone onto the counter between them. He took a seat on a stool, hit the speaker phone button and the silence in the room was filled with a dial tone. Checking his memory against a slip of paper pinned to his bulletin board, Sean dialed a long distant number. Amanda continued to eat her eggs and examine the cabin as Sean initiated his call. "Parker," was the response as his call was answered. "Glenn, this is Sean. Sorry to call so early. Are you free to talk? Something has happened at your cabin that I need to bring you up to speed on fast." "Hang on," Glenn said and they heard him briskly dismissing whoever he had been with when the call had been answered. "Okay Sean, fill me in." "Glenn, we need to start with this conversation being privileged. I know you're semi-retired, but your firm still represents me." Sean, with an occasional uninvited contribution from Amanda, relayed the events of the morning to Glenn, up to the point where they had left three permanently paralyzed men sprawled across Glenn Parker's cabin floor. Sean then threw a bigger surprise to Parker when he asked, "Glenn, who besides me did you tell that you would be out of town today? This is important because the Tangos said that they were specifically told that they could use your cabin since you wouldn't be there." "Why do I think you may know the answer to your own question Sean? Other than you when you're around, Morgan Smith is the only other person I ever tell." Sean nodded at the phone and then said, "What do you think the reaction from our illustrious County Sheriff will be when he receives a report that three men intended to produce a snuff film in the cabin that he was only one of three people who knew it would be unoccupied today?" Without waiting for Glenn to answer, Sean continued, "You know that I have never seen eye to eye with Morgan, and if he thinks he can pin something on me for taking what I'm sure he'll define as vigilante action against those men, he is likely to try. I'm going to take a different route with this, so please keep things under your hat until you hear back from me." "You're not going to have a lot of options open to you in Seminole County," Glenn said. "No other state authorities will get involved without Morgan requesting them to." "Let me handle this Glenn," Sean said. "When are you due to return?" "I'm not scheduled to return until Friday but now I'm thinking of cutting things short and heading back tomorrow." "Hold off until you hear from me, okay? There's nothing here that requires your attention that urgently." "Alright," Glenn said, "but please keep me posted." "I will Glenn. Bye." Sean disconnected the call and after making sure that Amanda had settled down across from him and wouldn't need him for anything, he dialed another number. "Wallace." "Uncle Kirby, this is Sean. Have you got a minute?" "Sure Sean," his uncle said. "To what do I owe this pleasure? "No pleasure so far. Let me tell you about my morning and get your advice..." Kirby Wallace worked officially for Brandt Consulting, which provided cover as the company being a contractor for the Department of Homeland Security. In reality, Kirby Wallace was Deputy Director of Operations for DHS, responsible for pre-emptive strategies and tactics to thwart attacks against the United States.

Once more Sean relayed the details of the events, only this time Amanda remained silent as she ate a slice of toast. When he was finished he then added the reason for his call to his uncle. "Uncle Kirby, the Tangos said that they were told to use Glenn Parker's cabin because it was remote and it would be unoccupied today. Right before calling you I spoke with Glenn and verified that he only told two people of his planned business trip. I was one of them and Morgan Smith, Sheriff of Seminole County was the other. If I now report the events to Morgan, I'm afraid that he may take action against me to protect himself." "Sounds like a potentially ugly situation," said Kirby. "You said that we're suspecting human trafficking and attempted murder by foreign nationals on US soil, so I assume you would like to see this classified as a national security issue rather than a local law enforcement issue?" "That really depends on how fast things could get put into motion," Sean said. "We have twenty five young girls still on that ship somewhere in American waters but we don't know how much longer they will be there. I suspect that once the ship docks the containers will be placed onto tractor trailer trucks and once that happens, they'll be vapor in the wind to us. I'll also need some cover for what I did to the film crew at Glenn's cabin." "Understood," said Kirby. "Let me make a couple of calls real quick and see if I can get us some sort of idea on reaction times. Be back to you in ten." Kirby hung up without giving Sean a chance to respond. Turning to Amanda he saw her patiently examining her surroundings. He said, "I would like for you to go through my place and see if there is anything here that you would like to wear or use to make you more comfortable until we can stop and buy you things that actually fit you. For example, I know that I have a new toothbrush in the bathroom that has never been opened. Anything you want or need is yours for the taking." "I'll take you up on the toothbrush right now, but no promises on anything else. These shoes were my biggest concern and they seem to be doing the job so far." She got up from the stool and went wandering through his cabin. Amanda realized almost immediately that she was touring a house that wasn't really a home. Other than the portrait of Sean and his parents and the large stuffed bear, there were few signs that this house belonged to anyone in particular. It reminded Amanda of a time-share or vacation rental that catered to transient tenants who stayed there only for short periods of time. While he cleaned up her breakfast dishes, Sean was glad to see that she took him at his word and wasn't hesitating to open every drawer or cupboard she came to for an investigation of its contents. He couldn't know that she conducted her search more to learn about him than to find things for herself, but he was pleased none the less. After a few minutes she stuck her head out of the bedroom and said, "I'm going to be in the shower for a few minutes in case you're looking for me." Sean nodded and waved. He was glad that her ordeal from earlier in the day hadn't lingered to their time together. He had tried to be as non-threatening as possible and instill some level of confidence in her towards him. He had to admit that he found her resiliency mesmerizing and he admired her ability to notice and relay details that most other people would miss. Then there was the way that her holding his hand had affected him and how she had effortlessly gotten him sharing his own life story before he even realized he was doing it. Her interest in him was luminous, and he found himself basking in it like warm sunshine. He liked the way he felt when he was with her, which for someone who had led a very solitary life for almost a year said the most about her as far as he was concerned. Amanda had relieved herself before getting into the shower, still grinning over her observation that the toilet seat was in the down position. She thought that this bespoke of good habits from this warrior-man as she was beginning to think of him. She made quick work of washing her hair and body, using the razor in the shower to shave herself knowing instinctively that Sean wouldn't mind. She would warn him though so he wouldn't be surprised by a dull blade the next time he went to use it. Sean was still thinking of Amanda when the phone rang. He answered the phone before the first ring had ended. "Wallace," he said. "Wallace here too. I've got some good news and some bad. Surveillance drones out of Eglin Air Force base have returned imagery that found the ship docked at the container terminal in Bainbridge, Georgia as of three hours ago. Several containers have already been removed and placed on trailer trucks, including most of the units at the stern of the ship." "How can they be unloading so fast?" asked Sean. "Don't the containers have to pass a Customs inspection or anything?" "Unless they were tagged and sealed as "Customs Exempt" for some reason, then you're correct," said Kirby. "DHS and FBI agents are on choppers headed to Bainbridge now to investigate, but they won't be on the ground for another hour." "Can we track the trucks that have those containers?" asked Sean. "As far as I know, all we have on the suspect container is an approximate color, described as rust orange or reddish," said Kirby. "We have reviewed drone images since the ship docked and are targeting containers that are anywhere close to the colors mentioned. Three have been identified. One of these is currently headed west on interstate 10 and will be quarantined at the first truck scales in Alabama and inspected by the FBI who are in route. The other two are currently on US 84 eastbound headed toward interstate 75 where the two highways meet in Valdosta. We will maintain real-time drone surveillance on both until their projected destinations can be ascertained. I have to tell you Sean, we are short of ground assets for anything short-term. We can get a squad of Rangers deployed out of Fort Benning within thirty minutes but we need to have a mission for them first." "Why not get them airborne onto each of the containers right now?" asked Sean. "Because until we identify which truck is involved in the national security issue we have declared for this matter, we can't use United States military forces. If the Rangers assault a truck on American soil and find it full of big screen TV's, then the President will have a tough time justifying his finding with Congress and we could lose more

Kirby was referring to the current Presidential Finding which stated that organized crime activity conducted by foreign nationals either within the borders of the United States or targeting the citizens of the United States met the definition of domestic terrorism and would be considered national security events. "I see your point," said Sean. "So we just wait until we figure out where the two trucks are headed? "That, plus we keep them monitored," Kirby said. "If one pulls into a rest stop or other location and we see a bunch of people pouring out of the container, we can have forces on the sight quickly. Ideally, we would be able to track them all the way to their destination and then take down more than just the grunts involved, if you know what I mean." "Let's think of this operation strategically," said Sean. "If you had twenty five young girls that you were looking to now distribute, where in the Southeast would you be headed? Remember, we should assume because they were all brought to the United States that the customers were all here as well." Kirby saw the logic. "Using interstate 75 as a corridor can also play into the analysis. Only Atlanta, and to some degree Orlando provide the logistics favorable to distributing this number or girls over a short period of time." "I agree," said Sean. "Keep monitoring both trucks, but I'm going to start heading towards Atlanta as I had originally planned for today. There are several construction zones on interstate 75 which will slow down any traffic between Valdosta and Macon. I can beat them by heading north on US 27 through Columbus onto interstate 185 and then interstate 85. You have my cell phone number?" "Let me have it again," said Kirby, but as he was taking it down he interrupted Sean. "I just received some interesting info. It seems that one of the two trucks has been followed by a blue van since leaving the container terminal. It has had multiple opportunities to pass, but it remains directly behind the truck." "That's our Tango!" said Sean. "The van has the traders that Amanda mentioned. They're not releasing their cargo until they receive payment so they're following them." "I think you're right," agreed Kirby. "We'll designate that as the primary target." "How far from interstate 75 is the primary target truck?" ask Sean? "Looks to be at least one hour from interstate 75," replied Kirby. "Okay," said Sean. "In an hour I will still be able to swing east and then south if our guess about Atlanta is wrong, but I'm ninety five percent certain of their destination." "I agree," said Kirby. "Start towards Atlanta and I'll monitor things on this end and keep you posted. I'm also going to see who we may have currently at the Federal Law Enforcement Training Center near Brunswick that we may be able to use on this. Let me know your planned route as soon as you have it." "Will do. Thanks Uncle Kirby." "Semper Fi Marine. "Semper Fi," said Sean, but the call had been ended. "What does 'Semper Fi' mean?" asked Amanda. Sean hadn't noticed her standing on the other side of the counter and wondered how long she had been there. Her natural beauty was radiant, and once again startled him. She was a little thin due to her captivity, and she obviously didn't have a gym-trained body, but her overall physique was toned and screamed of exposure to nature. Her flawless skin and sun- kissed complexion were more tantalizing to him than any woman he had met in all his worldly travels. "It's short for 'Semper Fidelis' which is Latin for 'Always Faithful'. It is the motto of the United States Marine Corp. My Uncle Kirby was also a Marine. In fact, he was my inspiration for joining." "Oh, Okay." She stood with damp hair, but in the same clothes that she had on before she had taken her shower. Her raw, wholesome beauty was even more obvious to Sean as she stood there smiling at him. Her wet hair and natural appearance suddenly reminded him of what he found familiar about her. He thought back to one point in his youth when his parents had taken him to New York with them on a business trip. Among the items on their agenda was a meeting with the PR firm they had selected for a new ad campaign. Sean remembered his mother going through stacks of photos for the models they were considering and how taken she had been with one in particular. The model was not able to find time in her busy schedule to work on the campaign, but Sean remembered her name to this day - Elle MacPherson. Amanda stood before him now and Sean knew his mother would have been just as taken with her as she had been with Elle. She held a clean dry towel and a pair of scissors. "Feel better?" Sean asked. "Heaps better," she said. "Being able to wash the touch of those animals off me was wonderful. I hope you don't mind, but I used your razor. Thank you again." "No problem at all. I'm glad I was there to help. Now, we need to get ready to go. The ship has already docked and the container with the girls is likely on a truck headed for Atlanta. If we leave now, we can arrive at the same time, or maybe even beat it there. We have a drone monitoring it so we'll know if they stop and begin to let people off, but our guess is that they want to get the entire cargo to Atlanta for distribution. Let me make a few more phone calls because once we leave here, it will be at least an hour before we get into decent cellular coverage." First he called Glenn Parker back. While the phone was ringing, Amanda came up behind Sean and placed the towel over his shoulders. He looked back at her questioningly. She simply held up the scissors for him to see and then smiled at him as she took several locks of his hair between two of her fingers and began to cut. This act felt somehow natural to Sean, so he turned back to the phone and let her continue without objection. "Hi Glenn," Sean said when the phone was answered. "You're going to have to deal with the situation at your cabin on your own for right now. The FBI is probably going to want to get a statement from you about who you informed about your trip. I need you to leave me out of this as much as possible. As one of my lawyers, I assume you can manage that alright?" "Not a problem. How did you get the FBI involved so quickly?" asked Glenn. "They generally wait for a request from local authorities before getting involved in something like this." "The situation is being handled now as a matter of national security which takes it out of the hands of all local and state authorities. I wouldn't advise that you mention that fact yet or some of the rats will flee the ship before assets get in place to catch them. This goes deeper than just a rural county Sheriff. Several others have to be involved in order for them to think that they could bring a container full of young girls into the United States without fear of discovery." "I wish I could get a flight out today, but I've already checked and the best I can do is a flight into Tallahassee through Atlanta late tomorrow morning," Glenn said. "How fast could you get to Dulles?" asked Sean as he continued to feel foreign sensations every time Amanda touched his face, neck or head while she tenderly combed and cut his hair. "I'm about thirty minutes from there right now," Glenn replied. "Don't go to the main terminal, but have someone direct you to the World Wings FBO building. I'll make arrangements for a private jet to fly you back today." "Where will they fly me to?" asked Glenn. "Can they fly me to Decatur County Airport in Bainbridge?" "That would be ideal," said Sean, "and I don't see why they couldn't. I could also see about having you met there by the FBI who could drive you to your cabin and get your statement along the way. Let me see what I can work out and get back to you." Sean hung up and checked the time. He smiled up at Amanda in appreciation as he called his father's former secretary Maureen McKenna. "Mr. Wallace's office," said a professional female voice. "Hi Moe, it's Sean. Why did I know you would be in this early?" "Sean! It's wonderful to hear your voice. Is everything okay?" "I'm fine Moe, but I don't have a lot of time to chat right now and I need you to handle a few things for me with the highest priority. Can you do that?" Without hesitation Maureen said, "I'm always at your service Sean. What do you need?" Sean explained the flight arrangements that he wanted made for Glenn Parker, as soon as he was finished giving her the details, he sensed something in her silence. "Is there a problem Moe?" he asked. "I don't think there will be a problem, but Mr. Folsom is out of the office today and if I don't track him down to get the approval..." she began. "Moe, Tom Folsom doesn't have to approve any directions I give to you. You work for me, personally. Tom Folsom works for me, and then only in a limited capacity. If I need to remind him of that, I'll be more than happy to do so." "I'll make the arrangements Sean, but you already know a few things have changed since you have been out. You may want to go ahead and remind Mr. Folsom before he completes his purge of anyone loyal to you. That's all I'm going to say on the matter right now." "Give me Tom's cell number," Sean said. She read him the number, "I'll call you back as soon as the arrangements are made." "No, you won't be able to reach me on my cell for at least an hour so just call Glenn Parker at the number I gave you so he knows that he's good to go." "Okay Sean," said Maureen. "Will we be seeing you anytime soon?" "It sounds like that may be a real possibility," Sean told her as he hung up. He immediately called Tom Folsom's cell phone and left a message requesting a return call. Amanda had been quietly listening to Sean on the phone as she finished cutting his hair and removed the towel from his shoulders. Her mother had always cut her father's and brother's hair, but she taught Amanda how to do it so that she could help out with the ranch hands. Her experience cutting the hair of dozens of men had never provided Amanda the satisfaction she was feeling with this intimate task for a man she had met less than two hours previous. Amanda became aware of how important it was to her for this haircut to please Sean. She could tell that his last conversation bothered him, but she didn't want to interrupt him to ask any questions. She found a broom and began cleaning his cut hair from the floor around the base of his stool. Sean called his uncle back. "Uncle Kirby, I have made arrangements for Glenn Parker, the owner of the cabin where the three Tangos are waiting, to fly back into Decatur County airport today. It might be a good idea to have the FBI meet him when he arrives to get his statement about what he told Morgan Smith. Can you arrange that?" "Do you have his flight details?" asked Kirby. "Not yet, but if you still have my dad's office number, you can call that. His former assistant, now mine is named Maureen McKenna. She is making the arrangements right now and will have all the details you need shortly." "I remember Moe and I've got the number. I'll give it half an hour before I call," said Kirby. "Thanks," said Sean. "We're going to be leaving here in the next few minutes and I will be out of pocket until we hit cell coverage about an hour from now. I've decided that we'll be headed towards Georgia highway 300 which will take us through Albany before meeting up with interstate 75. I'll call you as soon as we have a signal so we can get an update." "Talk to you then," said Kirby as he ended the call. Sean stood, walked into the kitchen and looked at his reflection in the microwave. He ran his fingers through his hair as he turned to Amanda. "Wow. This is the best cut I have ever had. I like the length and the style a lot. How did you know?" Amanda finished dumping the clippings into a trash can before answering. She could barely contain the elation she felt. "I have spent enough time around a ranch and in remote areas to recognize when a man's hair is long due to neglect rather than design. Your hair was obviously bothering you, so I wanted to take care of it for you. I hope I wasn't too presumptuous in my actions." "You won't hear anything but appreciation from me. I was seriously contemplating how to cut it myself, but that would have entailed just shaving my head. I like your style much more, so thanks again. It's perfect." Amanda glowed at Sean's appreciative praise. "The pleasure was all mine. I am at your service whenever you need a touch-up. In fact, if circumstances later permit, your neck could use a little more attention to tidy things up some." An image of standing naked in a shower as she shaved his neck flashed across her consciousness and Amanda hoped the blush she felt wasn't too visible. Sean simply nodded as he walked across the room and collected a packed duffle bag from a closet by the front door. "You pack fast," said Amanda. "I had already packed before heading out to check my traps. My original plans for today were for me to drive to Atlanta and then head to Tennessee tomorrow morning. My hibernation had to end sometime and you happened to catch me as I am exiting my cave, so to speak."

"I'm honored to witness your awakening," said Amanda. Sean sensed that she was going to be a bigger part of his awakening than merely being a witness to it. He set an intrusion sensor and locked the front door of his cabin. He then led Amanda out the backdoor and locked it. Continuing to the garage, he opened the door revealing a shiny silver Volvo XC-90 SUV. Pushing a button on the remote, he unlocked the doors and opened the passenger door for Amanda. She climbed in as Sean went to the driver's side. As he settled behind the wheel she said, "You'll have to forgive me if I seem to be reaching for the steering wheel from time to time. Where I come from it is usually on this side of the car." Sean laughed and said, "You'll probably be too focused on trying to find the brake pedal to worry about steering. I'm a pretty aggressive driver." "Hit me with your best shot," she said as she buckled her seat belt and tied her hair into a ponytail. "What about your generator? Do you leave it running all the time?" she asked. "It starts up only when the batteries that power most of the house need charging. With the solar power system and plenty of sunny days, there is enough fuel stored for it to run at least another two weeks. If I'm not back to close things up for the summer then I'll make arrangements for a diesel delivery far enough in advance to keep it running until I do return." Amanda sat in silence as they drove, but her mind never drifted from thoughts of the man beside her. He was obviously more than a warrior, with apparent resources and skills that belied his attempts to seem more primitive and simple than he really was. His military training could explain his physique and the tidiness of his home, but not his gentleness. He definitely wasn't lacking for money, if his house and car were any indication, but he didn't offer any suggestion that he wanted to discuss his true occupation so she didn't pursue it. They were just entering Bainbridge when Sean asked Amanda. "Do you know what a Wal-Mart is?" "I'm familiar with them," she said, "but I've never shopped at one. "Do you have a clear enough idea of what you would want to purchase that if I stopped at a Wal-Mart you could run through the store and make your selections without a lot of decisions?" "As long as the store has signs indicating where specific items were located I could get everything pretty quick. I don't need much really; just daks and a pair of shoes that fit would cover me for days." "What are 'daks'?" "I'm sorry," Amanda said with a laugh. She had a soft laugh that resembled a purr. Sean knew at once that she had no idea just how sexy it was. "Daks are slang for pants in Australia. I'll try to be more considerate in my language." "Please don't. I would love to learn more slang from Australia if you don't mind explaining it to me when you use it. Anyway, I don't want to rush you that much," Sean said. "Maybe you could select the daks and shoes while I picked up shampoo or other toiletry items you might want." "I can be a girly girl when circumstances call for it Sean, but it's not who I am. I was raised on a sheep and cattle ranch and have dedicated my life to helping orphans in remote under- developed countries. Shampoo is not important to me unless it matters to you." "I just want you to be as comfortable as circumstances permit. There's no reason to play the martyr and forsake either hygiene or comfort unnecessarily." "You are absolutely and uncategorically the sweetest thing I have ever seen. I'll tell you what, I'll go get shoes and pants and you can go find me some decadent chocolate to eat. It's too early for a beer, but you can buy me one of those later. How's that?" "A girl who likes beer and chocolate but doesn't want to shop till she drops. I'll be beating guys off you for the rest of my life," he teased. "American boys are so easy," she said in mock exasperation. True to her word, when Sean stopped at the Wal-Mart in Bainbridge, Amanda had selected shoes, socks, three T- shirts and two pairs of jeans before he had decided on which chocolate to buy her. She teased him about this until they returned to his car. Amanda also noticed that almost every woman in the store stole a glance at Sean, and once she had joined him at the checkout lanes, the visible envy of her being with this man was obvious. Once back inside his car she immediately went about changing out of the sweat pants into a pair of the new jeans without any consideration for Sean seeing her in her underwear. The sweat pants, Glenn Parker's socks, T-shirt and Tango Three's shoes were tossed into the far back section of the Volvo SUV. Amanda then relaxed in her seat as Sean drove them north towards Atlanta. After a few miles she said, "Thanks for the clothes. I'll pay you back as soon as I can get my status here straightened out." "Don't give it a second thought," Sean told her. "I am glad to treat you to your first American clothes." After a few miles she said, "Sean, since we're going to be driving for a while, do you want to talk about your recent hibernation?" Sean was surprised. Yes, he was surprised that Amanda had remembered his earlier comments and decided to explore them, but he was more surprised by his not being adverse to the idea of sharing his history with someone else. Maybe it was just the right time, but he suspected it was more that Amanda was the right person to share this with. "The impetus for it was a betrayal by my former fiancée, named Kimberly DuPont. We met while I was attending Vanderbilt University for my MBA. I had completed my undergraduate degree prior to joining the Corp and felt that I owed it to my father's legacy to take my education to the next level. We met at a fitness promotion event on campus though I was there only because it was on my normal cycle training route. She was handing out water bottles promoting some local gym and I was thirsty so I took one and we started to talk. A few days later we ran into each other on campus and she suggested we meet later for drinks. Now that I think back it, our chance encounters seemed awfully coincidental. Anyway after dating for about nine months I proposed and she accepted." "Why?" Amanda asked. "Good question," said Sean. "I guess I felt it was the logical thing to do. Kimberly and I always seemed to have a good time together. I missed her when we were apart, and I could envision spending the rest of my life with her. I recognize now that I had become comfortable with her more than actually loving her." "So what happened?" "From the beginning Kimberly had this strange rule that she wanted to have friends who were male, and according to her, no threat to her and I, but she always wanted to keep them secret from me. She felt that she needed to have someone who she could get an unbiased male perspective from in order to better understand how she could please me. I wasn't so insecure that the idea of her having male friends threatened me, but I always had issues with her insistence that they be kept secret. I broke off our engagement when she was hanging out two or three nights each week with her friend Mark, but still refused to introduce him to me. A couple of weeks later she came to me claiming that she had ended her friendship with Mark because I couldn't handle it. I wasn't mollified, but after a month or so of her not seeing her male friends, the engagement was back on. Within a month of us setting a date for the wedding, she said that her brother Jim was coming to town and she wanted to spend some time with him. I said that was great and that I looked forward to meeting him, but she could never find a convenient time for the three of us to get together. Her and her brother would meet for lunch, dinner, and drinks, but never at a time where I might be able to join them."

"Suspicious," said Amanda. "You think?" said Sean. "So the next time that my schedule conflicted with a dinner that she had planned with her brother I decide to surprise them. I arrived at the restaurant about five minutes after her and waited for her to greet her brother in the foyer of the restaurant. Let's just say that they were a very passionate family. It was almost as if they were flouting their relationship for everyone to see. Once they were seated I asked for a table across the partition from them so I could hear them but they couldn't see me. Well, it should go without saying that her brother Jim was actually her friend Mark. In addition, Kimberly had apparently learned from someone who my father was and this is what prompted her to conveniently bump into me so often when we first met. She sat at that table with Mark discussing the five year timeline she had for her marriage to me before she would be entitled to half of my assets and after she divorced me they could then live happily ever after. I walked around to their table, asked her for my ring back and when Mark tried to be chivalrous, I laid him out with a squeeze to his Brachial plexus. I then forcibly removed the engagement ring from Kimberly's finger and walked out never to see her again." "I know what the Brachial plexus is. Do you have medical training too?" Sean chuckled and said, "I have very limited medical training, focused upon first aid and battlefield first response. My knowledge of anatomy comes from training in close quarter combat and identifying lethal and non-lethal pressure points and other targets on the human body." "L'amour sans confiance n'est rien." "You're absolutely right," agreed Sean. "Love without trust is nothing. I realized that what I had with Kimberly all along really couldn't have been love because I never trusted her, so I can't really complain of a broken heart where she is concerned. I was more disappointed than anything about admitting to myself that I had been prepared to 'settle' for Kimberly at the cost of my dreams." Amanda reflected on her own past relationships, or lack thereof. She had been raised in one of the most remote sections of Australia, home schooled until college, and had very limited exposure to boys her own age for most of her adolescent life. She didn't have any dates until she was away from home at college, didn't kiss a boy until she was 19 years old and there had only been two other opportunities since that first time. She knew that her self- imposed lack of relationships had been influenced by what her parents had demonstrated to her as the perfect life between a man and a woman and the subsequent expectations that she had developed for any man to garner her attention. Sean Wallace had her attention now. Restraining her desire to know what Sean's 'dreams' were and who Sean's father was as it influenced this Kimberly woman's intentions relative to their marriage, Amanda asked, "So is that when you began your hibernation? After breaking up with Kimberly?" "Shortly thereafter," Sean confirmed. "I had business responsibilities that I couldn't just walk away from so I had to appoint some people to act on my behalf and to make critical decisions in my absence. I've been monitoring things from afar and focusing on some other business concerns. Now I need to get back to work and take the reigns myself once more. Enough about me, I want to hear about you for a change." Amanda studied him for a minute and then said, "There's not much to tell." "I believe differently, and you know differently," Sean said. "Fair is fair Amanda, plus I am genuinely interested in getting to know more about the mystery woman who has so adeptly penetrated my shell. I know that self- deprecation is a British trait, but I never realized it had spanned the Queen's domain to include Australia," teased Sean. "I don't know what in my life would interest you," she said. Sean recognized a trait that he had himself in her reluctant demeanor. He really did want to get to know more about her, but he didn't want to make her uncomfortable in sharing what she felt important while maintaining some degree of privacy where she felt it necessary. "Why don't you just start with a chronological summary of your life so far and I'll ask questions along the way?" "Should I lay down doctor as I recount my childhood?" Sean chuckled, but waited for her to continue. "I was born Amanda Jean Wallace on March 18, 1989," she began. "What?" Sean interrupted, glad that there were no other vehicles in the lanes next to his as his reaction caused him to stray into other lanes as he kept stealing glances at Amanda. "You didn't mention that your last name was the same as mine." Amanda couldn't restrain a laugh. "I thought it might freak you out, even though Wallace isn't that uncommon a name in the English speaking world. I doubt that we are related, but it might be fun to compare family trees sometime. My father is reported to be descended from William Wallace himself." Leaning over and squeezing his hand she said, "I'm certain we're at least kissing cousins." "I think it's great," said Sean with a grin. "It will make checking into a motel with you seem less seedy. Now continue with your life story." "Okay, so I was born the first daughter of Leonard and Olivia Wallace. I had a brother Michael who was four years older than me but no other siblings. We lived on a seven thousand acre ranch that was a combination of properties from both my parents' families. They had grown up on adjoining ranches in the Northern Territory, about 80 kilometers east of the city of Katherine. When they got married, the two ranches were combined into one. My brother and I worked on the ranch when we weren't in school and when my parents were killed in a plane crash five years ago, he and I took over total management of the family business operations. I say that he and I took over but it was mostly just him. I was in nursing school and could handle financial and other transactions remotely by computer or on the phone, but he had to remain at the ranch overseeing actual operations of it and our other holdings." "Sorry to hear about your parents," Sean said. "Thank you Sean," she said. "Unfortunately, my brother died eighteen months after my parents did. He had an undiagnosed heart defect that surfaced suddenly and with the ranch being so remote, there wasn't any opportunity for the right medical treatment to get there in time to save him. With both my parents and my brother gone, I had no reason to return to the ranch, so I rolled it into a holding company with our family's other enterprises and have trustees managing it all for the time being. Since I was suddenly an orphan myself, I decided to devote my nursing skills to helping others in the same situation, only younger. That pretty well brings you up-to-date on my life." "Do you plan on returning to the orphanage after this is over?" Sean asked. "I haven't thought that far ahead," she said. "My motivation for going there was largely my sense of loss, and I've gotten over most of that. I am financially secure enough to explore other options for my life. I just don't know what those might be at this time." "Sounds like you may be about to awaken from your own hibernation," he said. "Well," she teased, "You do make it sound so exciting; maybe I'll follow your lead and give it a try."

Heavy Traffic Ch. 03 by BobbyBrandt © Just prior to reaching Camilla, Georgia where they switched from Highway 97 to Highway 300, Sean received a second signal bar on the display of his cell phone and determined that he would be able to maintain a connection that justified pairing the phone with his hands-free Bluetooth feature in his car. Amanda watched as Sean paired his phone and silently demonstrated her appreciation by making a zippered motion across her lips, followed by a smile. Sean saw her motion and grinned as he nodded in response while he spoke his first voice command, "Call Karen." The speakers in his car were quickly filled with the sound of a ringing phone, followed almost immediately by the sound of a woman's voice, "Sean?" "Good morning sleepy head. How is the morning sickness this morning?" Amanda's interest in the conversation was suddenly piqued, but she tried to hide it by focusing her attention on the scenery passing by. "It's not too bad this morning. Are we still on for lunch?" asked Karen. "That's why I'm calling," said Sean. "Something's come up and I'll need to cancel, but on a positive note, you'll be able to head home earlier than planned. Would you need any help getting an earlier flight?" "No thanks. I'll wait to see how I feel in a little while before deciding. When can we talk again? There's still a lot that we need to cover together before things move too far." "I'm going to have to place my focus elsewhere for at least a week, Karen. You also need to ease your husband's concerns by spending some quality time with him for a change." "Oh I'll be sure to distract him when I get home, don't worry. I could use the distraction myself." "Okay Karen. Safe travels. Shoot me a text or e-mail to let me know you made it home alright." "I will Sean. I'll miss you. Bye." "Me too Karen. Bye." Sean ended the call, but before dialing his next number he glanced over and saw a look of suspicion on Amanda's face. "Sorry, that was Karen Mason. I was supposed to meet with her today to go over some business matters, but I think our mission right now is more important." "Is she pregnant?" asked Amanda. Sean nodded, "Yeah, with her first. Her and her husband live in Southern California and she had flown out here last week for our business, so I'm glad that she now has the opportunity to get back home sooner." "I'm sure she'll be more comfortable at home," Amanda said, but her expression was still etched with suspicion. "Her and Kyle both, I'm sure," agreed Sean. "They both lead very busy lives, but this is the first time that they have been apart since they got married and with her telling him she was pregnant right before this trip has made them both a bit tense about their separation." "So you know her husband?" asked Amanda. "Kyle? Sure, that's how I met Karen, through my friendship with Kyle." "I see," said Amanda with an obvious lightening of her mood. Noticing that Amanda seemed placated for the moment, Sean made another call. "Call Kirby." Once more the speakers in his car came to life with ringing followed by the voice of his uncle, "Sean?" "Yes sir. We're almost to Camilla so we should be in good cell range from now until Atlanta." "Good," Kirby said. "You still plan on taking Highway 300 north from there?" "That's the plan," confirmed Sean. While Sean and his uncle were speaking, Amanda listened to their conversation while considering her reactions to the previous call between Sean and Karen Mason. Her initial surge of jealousy surprised her, but not as much as the elation that she now felt knowing that they were just friends. She liked the last feeling much better where Sean Wallace was concerned. "Do you know where the Marine Corp Logistics Base is in Albany?" Kirby asked. "It shouldn't be too hard to find," said Sean. "Do we need to stop there?" "Just at the front gate. A special agent from Immigration and Custom Enforcement is choppering there right now from FLETC where a briefing on Homeland Security's Blue Campaign is being held." "Blue Campaign?" asked Amanda. Sean glanced at her and she just shrugged and grinned. "Who was that?" asked Kirby. "Sorry," said Sean. "I forgot that you two hadn't been introduced yet. Amanda Wallace, say hello to my Uncle Kirby. Uncle Kirby, say hello to Amanda Wallace. Amanda is the young lady I met earlier today that brought all of this to our attention." "Wallace?" asked Kirby. Amanda laughed and said, "From a very distant branch of the family tree, I'm sure Uncle Kirby. I'm pleased to meet you, or your voice at least." "Family needs to stick together," said Kirby. "To answer your question Amanda, Homeland Security's Blue Campaign is a comprehensive education program that teaches law enforcement officers how to recognize human trafficking encountered during routine duties, how to protect victims, and how to initiate human trafficking investigations. We are fortunate that some of the nation's experts are in the area right now and moving to help us find these girls." "We're about ninety minutes from Albany," said Sean. "That should be perfect," said Kirby. "Special Agent Mickey Anderson will be waiting for you at the main gate. You and Amanda need to provide as much information as possible that will allow I.C.E. to move their investigation forward to determine where the security breakdowns occurred and get to those responsible on all sides of the distribution chain." "We'll do what we can. Do you have any update on the FBI being able to meet Glenn when he arrives in Bainbridge or what is going on at his cabin?" asked Sean. "One of my colleagues has taken charge of the prisoners at the cabin. He hasn't arrived himself yet, but National Park police from Apalachicola National Forest headquarters near Tallahassee are on site at Mr. Parker's cabin, had the prisoners transported to Naval Air Station Pensacola via Coast Guard helicopter and have the site secured awaiting the arrival of the FBI and Mr. Parker. No local authorities have been brought in or are aware of the situation as far as we know right now. Your involvement is 'need-to-know' right now, but I've got your back." Kirby continued, "How long do you think we have before the locals get curious or decide to check out the situation on their own? I mean, if your suspicions about the local Sheriff being involved are correct, won't he eventually go to the cabin to check the scene in preparation for what Mr. Parker would be expected to find when he returns?" Sean considered this for a minute and then responded, "Based upon what the Tangos implied that they were going to film, I would assume that they felt confident that they would not be interrupted today. My guess is that no one will venture out to check things until tomorrow at the earliest, but a single sentry with a view of the turn-off from Highway 97 would be able to see anyone coming at least 10 miles away. There is no other way for a vehicle to get to the cabin." "We don't know enough about their operation to assume anything right now," said Kirby. "You're right," agreed Sean, "but from what the Tangos confessed, everything points to their deal to purchase Amanda being totally separate from the smuggling operation involving the other girls, so the communication protocols of one wouldn't likely apply to the other. On the other hand, it is very likely that their contacts here are involved in both, or at least have significant knowledge of the smuggling operation even if they do not have direct involvement in it. If the ship off-loaded in Bainbridge that is out of Morgan Smith's jurisdiction so how did he get involved in this?"

"Those are among the points you need to discuss with Special Agent Anderson," said Kirby. "I.C.E. will be taking point on the human trafficking investigation from here on. The FBI and all other agencies will be at their disposal and be prepared to respond in rescuing the girls, but we obviously have some serious players involved that need to be identified and brought to justice." "Is Special Agent Anderson stationed at the Federal Law Enforcement Training Center? I met a Michelle Anderson a few years back while I was there helping them analyze which close quarter combat techniques that they wanted to standardize on." Sean mentioned the full name of the facility because he could see that Amanda was confused about the acronym 'FLETC' which Kirby had used earlier. "I believe she was with I.C.E., but we only chatted briefly over dinner one night so I might be mistaken." Sean remembered Michelle Anderson also being very frank and obvious in her desire for them to hook up, even if just for a one-night stand. She was a very attractive woman whose body held promise of enormous sexual pleasure, but Sean had declined all of her advances at the time. Glancing over at Amanda, he knew instinctively that he would do the same with Michelle if the propositions were repeated today. Michelle Anderson was unquestionably attractive, but glancing at the woman beside him, Sean saw that next to Amanda Wallace, she would look like she had been soaked in bleach too long. "I wouldn't know," said Kirby. "I guess you'll find out once you get to Albany. I just received an e-mail message that mentions a weather front moving into Georgia from the west. There is concern that clouds may obscure our drone imagery on the trucks within the next few hours." "If the target truck takes 75 north, there is a Department of Transportation weigh station near Forsyth that they will need to stop at," mentioned Sean. "Can we get anything in place to quarantine and inspect the truck at that point?" Kirby was quick to respond, "I already checked into that. The scales at that station are down for service so it is closed. When the target truck received a green bypass signal from the PrePass transponder as it approached the weigh station near Valdosta, it raised another flag relative to who might have entered information on this truck into the database that the system uses to establish a particular truck's qualifications to bypass the station. It is one of several strands to this spider web we have to navigate to uncover the depth of the conspiracy." "What are our options for tracking the truck if we lose drone imagery?" asked Sean. "We have already begun positioning local law enforcement vehicles onto overpasses and in the center median where necessary," reported Kirby. "We are fortunate that interstate 75 through Georgia is notorious for all the speed traps along its route, so as long as the cars positioned to report the truck's movements have their radar or laser detection devices broadcasting, their presence probably won't raise any undue concerns for our target. An added bonus to that is the effect it will have on overall traffic speeds by slowing everyone on the road down. The toughest challenge is getting the locals to simply report the truck's location without taking any action on their own to intercede. I'm going to be calling each of the involved jurisdictions personally over the next few hours to make certain that they understand and accept their role." "If we can meet up with Special Agent Anderson and get in position early enough, do you think we should try and tail the target truck?" asked Sean. "I'll leave that decision up to Anderson, but my gut instinct would be to advise against anything other than strictly passive tracking at this time." Kirby continued, "While we want to break-up the conspiracy that is obviously in place, our first concern is the safety of the girls. There have been instances where traffickers eliminate the evidence when they are cornered." Amanda gasped when Kirby mentioned this. Sean reached over and squeezed her hand. "Understood, and we agree with the priorities here," he said. "I'll update you once we have met up with Special Agent Anderson." "Do you have any weapons with you?" asked Kirby. "I assume you mean weapons besides myself," answered Sean. Amanda shot him a questioning look, but he ignored it. "Just the Smith & Wesson forty-five compact that I always keep under the seat." "Well, let's see how things progress before we arm you for bear," said Kirby with a chuckle. "But you don't need arms for a bear, do you? Hopefully we can keep you on a green mission. I'll wait to hear from you. Bye." Sean glanced over at Amanda and recognized her exhaustion, "Why don't you try to get a little sleep? I can hold off on other calls until later, and once we pick up Special Agent Anderson the conversation in the car will make it harder for you to rest." "You don't mind? Can I crawl into the back seat and lie down there?" "Sure," said Sean as he pulled along the shoulder of the road and stopped. "Let's get you as comfortable as possible." Amanda got out of the front seat. Sean met her at the back door and helped position his duffle bag for her to use it as a pillow as she stretched out across the back seat. "This is the best we can do for right now, so I hope it allows you to get some rest." He closed the back door and returned to the driver's seat. "Thank you Sean." Sean turned off his hands-free Bluetooth and put his phone on vibrate ring before pulling the car back onto the road. He didn't want the phone to wake Amanda in the event someone called. He knew that she had to be exhausted from both a lack of sleep as well as coming down from the Adrenalin rush her ordeal was certain to have produced. While Sean knew that he should focus his concentration on strategy and tactics for recovering the girls, his thoughts continued to wander to Amanda. Her strength and confidence were obvious, but he was more intrigued by how he had responded to her inquiries into his life. He kept trying to analyze what it was about her that had him sharing himself in such an uninhibited manner. She had a way of listening that made him feel like the most interesting person she had ever encountered. Maybe it was the fact that he had been introduced to her during a period where she was completely vulnerable that permitted him to share his own vulnerabilities with her. Maybe it was the trust in him that she had demonstrated that allowed him to trust her so much. Sean spent the next seventy plus minutes contemplating his feelings towards Amanda, and while he came to no conclusions on why he felt the way he did, he could acknowledge that he had absolutely no regrets for sharing anything with her. All he knew for certain was that he had never met another woman who had impacted him as much as Amanda had. Amanda awoke as Sean was slowing the car on its approach to the main gate at the Marine Corp Logistics Base. In truth, she hadn't slept much. Her mind had been too busy with thoughts of Sean Wallace. No man had ever made her feel more connected, but she wasn't all together certain of what that connection could be between them. Her body was telling her what it wanted, but her heart and mind were playing catch- up. She sat up in the back seat as Sean rolled down his window to speak to the Marine guard who approached the car. "Hello Corporal, I'm Sean Wallace and I'm supposed to be meeting Special Agent Anderson from Immigration and Customs Enforcement here. Has Special Agent Anderson arrived yet?" "Yes sir," said the guard. "Special Agent Anderson is in Captain Ewell's office. If you can show me some ID, I will get you a pass and an escort to the Captain's office." "We are short on time, so could you just ask that Special Agent Anderson be brought here to the gate so that we can get going as soon as possible?" The corporal was shaking his head as he responded, "My orders are for you to be sent to Captain Ewell's office." Noticing Amanda in the back seat, he modified his earlier request, "If you and the young lady can show me identification, I can get you a pass and an escort as quickly as possible to minimize your delay." "I don't have any identification." Amanda said to Sean. The guard heard this and said, "I cannot issue a pass without identification. The young lady will need to wait here while you are escorted to Captain Ewell's office." "That is unacceptable Corporal," said Sean. "I am going to pull over to the waiting area and make a phone call. You may want to inform Captain Ewell of my arrival in the meantime." Without waiting for a response, Sean pulled his car into an area for vehicles waiting to pick up personnel from the base. He scrolled through his phone's directory until he found the contact he was looking for and then hit 'dial'. "Headquarters and Support Battalion, Sergeant Major's Touey's office." "Please tell the Sergeant Major that Recon Wallace is on the phone," said Sean. "Captain Recon Wallace?" asked the clerk. "Still Recon Wallace, but no longer a Captain. Please let the Sergeant Major know I would like to speak with her." "Yes sir." Within seconds his call was transferred and Sean heard the familiar voice of Tosha Touey on the phone. "Captain Wallace, how can I be of assistance?" she asked. "Tosha, do you know who the Sergeant Major is at Logistics Base Albany?" he asked. "That would be Kevin Meyers," she said. "Is there a problem?" Sean went on to explain, "I am working with the Department of Homeland Security in an unofficial capacity. I was supposed to meet a Special Agent from Immigration and Customs Enforcement at the main gate of the Logistics Base, but a Captain Ewell is interfering. I could go through my contacts at DHS to get past him, but I would prefer to handle this through the Corp. Please call Sergeant Meyers and ask him to explain to Captain Ewell who I am, and the urgency of the situation. I need the Special Agent brought to the main gate immediately. Can you do that?" "Consider it done. Give me your number and I'll call you back within five minutes." Sean provided his cell phone number and disconnected the call. He turned and looked over the seat at Amanda. "Did the short nap help?" Amanda rubbed a crease in her face left from lying on the duffle bag and said, "It probably didn't do anything for my looks, but I sure needed it. Thanks." "At some point, when you get to know me better and trust my sincerity, remind me to tell you just how beautiful you are. I won't tell you now, but when you're ready, I'll make certain that you know." "Sean Wallace, you are too funny," she laughed. "Thank you." Only a few minutes passed before the corporal guarding the gate walked over to their car. Sean lowered his window. "Captain Ewell is bringing Special Agent Anderson to the gate sir. He asked me to inform you that he will be here within two minutes." Before the guard could return to his station at the gate, a Marine staff car approached from inside the base. When it pulled to the gate the Corporal approached the driver's window and saluted. After a brief exchange, the corporal pointed to Sean's car and returned to his post. The staff car pulled into a space next to Sean and the Captain driving the car got out. Sean opened his door and walked around the front of his car to meet the Captain half way between their vehicles. "Captain Wallace?" asked Captain Ewell. "Recon Wallace. Former Captain with Force Recon, Special Operations Training Group," Sean said. "Celer, Silens, Mortalis," said Ewell. The Captain was apparently trying to ingratiate himself with Recon by citing the motto of Force Recon, which translates from Latin to "Swift, Silent, Deadly". "Thanks for accommodating us Captain. I would like to spend more time with you, but we have a very tight tactical operational timeline that we need to meet or exceed." A tall attractive raven haired woman wearing a FLETC instructor's polo shirt and khaki pants had removed a duffle bag from the staff car and was approaching Sean and Captain Ewell. "Hello Sean," she said as she gave him a hug that Amanda noticed was more than friendly in its duration and intensity. "It's good to see you again."

"Good to see you too Michelle. Are you ready to roll?" "Unless Captain Ewell has any other issues with me I believe I'm ready?" Captain Ewell shook his head. "We were just surprised by the sudden appearance of a DHS helicopter and wanted to know why standard protocols were not followed. The Sergeant Major has explained the situation so there are no further issues here. Please accept my apologies for the delay." Sean's cell phone vibrated. He checked the display and answered the call from Tosha Touey. "Hi Tosha. Everything is all set here. Thanks for your help." "Anytime Captain. Take care." Sean hung up and put his phone back in its holster. He shook Captain Ewell's hand and then led Special Agent Anderson to the front passenger door on his car. He opened the door for her and took her duffle bag. While she got situated, he placed her bag in the back of his car and resumed his place in the driver's seat. Amanda noticed that Agent Anderson had unbuttoned the last bottom button on her polo shirt while they were waiting for Sean to return to his seat. "Amanda Wallace, I'd like to introduce Michelle Anderson," Sean said as he started his car and began to back out of the parking space. "I thought your fiancée's name was Kimberly?" said Michelle as she looked over her shoulder at Amanda. Sean was confused for a second until he remembered that the last time he had been with Michelle Anderson, he was still engaged to Kimberly, and she must think that he and Amanda are now married because of their last names. "My fiancée's name was Kimberly. Amanda, could you explain the rest to Michelle?" "Certainly sweetheart," Amanda said. "I stole Sean away from Kimberly and we have been married for over a year now." She said this with a straight face and was able to maintain it until she saw the shocked look on Sean's face in the rear view mirror. "I'm just teasing," Amanda said with a chuckle. "Sean and I just met today when he saved my life. It is merely a coincidence that our last names are the same." Michelle smiled at Amanda's joke at Sean's expense then directed her next question to him, "So did you and Kimberly get married or not?" "Not," said Sean. "Her loss will definitely be some other lucky girl's gain," said Michelle, and Amanda noticed her smile broaden as well as subtle changes in her body language towards Sean. This tall attractive vixen obviously had an interest in Sean Wallace and Amanda realized that she didn't feel a single flutter of jealousy within herself. She sensed that Sean wouldn't respond to any advances from another woman as long as he was with her. Her trust in the fidelity of a man that she had just met would have surprised her, but for some reason after his explanation about Karen Mason, she almost had expected it where Sean Wallace was concerned. Michelle turned back to look at Amanda, "I'm please to meet you Amanda. You can call me 'Mickey'. So you were captured with the girls as I understand it?" The breathy voice that she had used when speaking to Sean became entirely professional as she addressed Amanda. "Yes," Amanda confirmed, "but we were separated early this morning." Mickey nodded. "Give me a second to activate the recorder feature on my smartphone, and then I would like you to tell me your story from the beginning. I hope you don't mind being recorded because if I tried writing your statement down while riding in a moving vehicle, I'm afraid I would get car sick." "Of course," said Amanda. When Mickey gave her the go ahead, she repeated the same details that she had shared earlier with Sean, with clarification or additional details added when Mickey interrupted her with questions. Once Amanda had finished, Mickey turned off the recorder, turned to Sean and said, "It sounds like Sean has a reward due him for his heroism." She reached over, stroked his arm and continued in a tone that clearly indicated her intentions, "I'll see what I can do to make sure he receives the recognition he deserves." Sean ignored the obvious flirtation but Amanda sensed his discomfort and thought she should try and change the subject. "Do either of you know if there is an Australian Consulate office in Atlanta? I need to try and get a passport and arrange for some money and credit cards." Mickey turned back around to face Amanda. "The Australian Consulate in Atlanta closed down in 2012. The closest resource you would have is the embassy in Washington, DC. I can have someone from our headquarters contact them for you and expedite getting you a replacement passport. Let me make the call right now so that you can provide the necessary information to get the process started." Without waiting for a response, Mickey dialed a number on her phone and put it on speakerphone. Once she had the Director of Enforcement and Removal Operations on the line she explained the situation. The Director asked Mickey to hold for a minute, and when he came back onto the line, he had established a conference call with Consular Services at the Australian Embassy. A professional voice with a proud Australian accent said, "This is Gregory Talbot. I understand that someone needs to obtain a replacement passport. Can I have the name of the traveler please?" Amanda leaned forward to speak into Mickey's phone, "My name is Amanda Jean Wallace. My Mother's maiden name was Graham. My residence is in the Northern Territory and my date of birth is March 18, 1989. What else will you need to know?" "Amanda Wallace of Wallace Holdings?" Watching Sean's eyes in the rearview mirror for his reaction, Amanda said, "Yes, that's me." "Good Lord! We had no idea that you were traveling to the United States Miss Wallace. Normally we would have been notified so that we could be prepared to assist you. Do you mind if I ask what your point of departure from Australia was? Heads will definitely roll over this." Both Sean and Mickey had looks of curiosity on their faces but remained silent as Amanda continued, "This wasn't a planned trip Mr. Talbot. I didn't depart from Australia. I was volunteering in East Timor when I was captured along with twenty-five orphan girls by slave traders. I was rescued this morning when I was taken off the ship that brought us here." Mickey cut in at this point, "Amanda is currently working with US authorities to locate and rescue the rest of the girls that were captured along with her. She is in our protective custody and we will make certain that her every need is taken care of until we can safely return her to your Embassy." The Director of Enforcement and Removal Operations added, "While our guest in this country, Miss Wallace's immigration or visitor status will not be an issue, but we wanted her Embassy to be aware of the situation and be prepared to assist her when she eventually returns to Australia." "Of course," said the Consular agent. "Miss Wallace, is there anything further that we can assist you with in the meantime?"

Amanda spoke again, "I believe I will need some form of identification in order for me to get my credit cards reissued and to have my bank release some funds to me here. Does anyone have any suggestions in this regard?" "The Embassy will be able to assist you with all of that Miss Wallace. If you would like to provide me with the details of which credit cards you would like reissued as well as the amount of any funds you require, I'll get on it for you immediately along with a replacement passport which should serve as adequate identification for you. I should be able to have everything ready for you to pick up from an American Express office within a couple of hours, but definitely by close of business today. How can I get in touch with you once everything is in place?" Mickey gave him her cell phone number and provided their destination for today as Atlanta for the proper American Express office to be identified. As soon as she finished, Amanda continued, "If you could assist with getting my passport and American Express card reissued, I could handle the transfer of funds from that point. I would also appreciate it if you could contact Jeremy Thorndike at Thorndike and Rogers to let him know my situation. Tell him that I will contact him as soon as I can, but no later than tomorrow evening." "Excellent. Miss Wallace, please note my direct number is Bleep-Bleep-xxxx. I am at your service twenty-four hours a day." "One more thing Mr. Talbot. As of this time, only five people, including you know of my situation and the circumstances related to it. I am a very private person Mr. Talbot, so if anything about me shows up in the press, I will have a very short list of heads to place on spikes. Please provide my status and location to Jeremy Thorndike but no one else without either his or my approval. Is that understood? "I should let the Ambassador know, but I will relay your desires to her as well." "As long as you and the Ambassador recognize that these are not 'desires', but demands then I am fine with you letting her know. Thank you Mr. Talbot." After disconnecting the call, Mickey looked at Sean and then turned back to study Amanda. "Are you a member of the royal family or something?" Amanda laughed and said, "There's not a drop of royal blood in my body." "Then who are you?" asked Mickey. "I mean besides 'Amanda Jean Wallace of Wallace Holdings'?" "That's all I am," said Amanda. Her dejected tone was not lost on Sean. Mickey was getting frustrated so she decided to Google Amanda's name. She had to modify her search by adding "Australia" to the string before she started seeing results that shed some light onto the situation. After reading the results for a few minutes she turned once again to Sean and said, "Amanda Jean Wallace is one of the 10 wealthiest women in Australia with a net worth of more than $300 million dollars. She's richer than Nicole Kidman for crying out loud." Turning back to Amanda she asked, "That's who you are, right?" Amanda simply nodded and turned to look out the side window of the car. Sean watched her reaction in the rearview mirror. He recognized the defeated expression that comes from losing the anonymity that allows a person to be viewed as "normal". He knew better than most how it felt to be treated special because of wealth, and he wanted to share this with Amanda, but he didn't think that this was the right time or place. Mickey was still reviewing the details she had found on Amanda. "You won an Olympic medal?" Amanda nodded but kept her eyes on Sean's as she said, "I won an individual Silver and a team Bronze at the 2008 games." "Impressive," said Sean. "What was your sport?" "Twenty-five meter pistol," said Amanda. Mickey and Sean exchanged glances but didn't comment further on Amanda's background. "We're going to be hitting interstate 75 soon," Sean said as he paired his phone with the hands- free Bluetooth again. "I want to see if we can find out where the truck is at this point." "Wallace", was the greeting when his uncle answered. "Any update on the location of our target truck?" asked Sean. "Hold on and I'll get the latest," replied Kirby. After a minute he came back on the line, "Still northbound on 75 approaching exit 97." "Perfect," said Sean. "We'll be entering 75 at exit 99 in about five minutes. We should be falling in right behind them." Turning to Amanda so that she knew he was including her in the conversation he went on, "Anyone have suggestions on how we proceed? Personally, I'm for getting the girls safely off the truck and continuing to investigate the conspiracy after that." "The safety of the girls has to be the priority," said Mickey. "If we can rescue them without tipping off the conspirators that would be the ideal situation." "I have some thoughts on how to handle the rescue," said Sean. "Uncle Kirby, could you arrange for some cellular dead zones along our route, say the entire section of interstate 475?" "It would take me about five minutes to shut the towers down in that area," said Kirby. "I have a direct line established already with Ericsson and their technicians are standing by the switches." "Good," said Sean. "Let me make another call to see what I can get in place to stop the truck and separate it from the blue van. I'll get back to you in a few minutes Uncle Kirby." Looking at Mickey again Sean said, "Can you start making arrangements for handling the girls once we get them off the truck? We'll need transportation and a location for you to take them for processing." Before Mickey could answer Amanda interrupted, "I need to be there with the girls. They will be frightened and few of them understand any English. Most speak Portuguese, but some only speak native Tetum Dili. Some will also likely require at least minor medical attention." Mickey agreed with Amanda, "I think you being there at the rescue would make things much easier for everyone. I'll get a bus heading south from Atlanta immediately with a team of agents for transport and then start identifying suitable locations for the girls to be treated and processed." Mickey started dialing her phone as Sean disabled his hands free and spoke into his own phone with voice dial instructions. Amanda had trouble following the two subsequent one-sided conversations as Sean and Mickey each gave instructions and received information on their respective plans, so she tried to focus her attention on what Sean was saying. "John, you do not need to check with anyone else before following instructions that I give you," Sean was telling the person on the other end of the conversation. "I don't care what you have been told. I own the company and unless you want to find other employment you will do what I say immediately and without question." There was a slight pause as Sean listened. He then continued, "Fine, I will follow the verbal instructions up with an e-mail to you, but don't wait for that before doing what I instructed. I expect you to call me back in five minutes confirming my directions are being carried out." He hung up and just stared out the windshield for a few seconds. "What are you trying to do?" asked Amanda. Mickey was still engrossed in her own conversation and wasn't paying attention to Sean's call. "One of the truck stops I own is up ahead about forty miles north of us. I want to get three of the trucks currently there - hopefully ones also owned by one of my companies - to help us create a rolling blockade of the target truck somewhere along interstate 475. I'm getting real irritated by the pushback I have been receiving every time I give instructions to people who supposedly work for me and I don't have the time right now to deal with the cause of this irritation. It's almost like someone has been subverting my authority while I have been out on my sabbatical." "Is there anything I can do to help?" asked Amanda? Sean thought for a minute, remembering how assertive Amanda had been in her dealing with the Australian Embassy official and then looked at her in the rearview mirror. He saw a way that he could use her skills at intimidation to his benefit and to keep her mind off the pending rescue of the girls. She would need to be accepted as having the authority to speak for him. "Would you marry me?" "Excuse me?" He had a grin on his face when he said, "Your little joke with Mickey earlier gives me an idea. Let's stop at that Subway up the road for some sandwiches and I'll explain my idea while we wait for our orders." After placing orders for their sandwiches and one for Mickey, Sean explained his idea to Amanda and he was pleased to see her smile mischievously. "If you were to pretend to be my wife, your authority to act on my behalf would be accepted by most people. Returning to the car, Sean handed his cell phone to Amanda, "Here, take my phone and find a contact for my lawyers, Middleton, Parker and Pierre. Call the number, put the phone on speaker and ask for Bryce Pierre." Amanda did as he requested and as the phone started to ring, she held the phone near the headrest of Sean's seat and leaned forward. Mickey moved her head farther to the right to continue her own cell phone conversation. "Law offices," was the greeting. Amanda spoke in a firm, professional voice, "Sean Wallace calling for Bryce Pierre." "One moment, I will see if Mr. Pierre is available." Hold music filled the background. Within only a few minutes, the voice of Bryce Pierre was heard, "Mr. Wallace, what can I do for you?" "Bryce, I want to start by introducing you to Amanda Wallace. She will be acting on my authority for the remainder of our conversation. Is that understood?" Amanda took her queue and said, "Mr. Pierre, I look forward to meeting you very shortly, but in the meantime we have been receiving some troubling feedback from several of our employees that we wanted to discuss with you." "I wasn't aware that you had married, Mr. Wallace. Did you have another firm prepare a pre-nuptial agreement?" Amanda cut him off, "We are not calling to discuss our pre or post nuptials with you Mr. Pierre, and unless you want to stay focused on our current concerns, I am prepared to move all of Sean's legal representation over to my own legal team at Thorndike and Roberts. If you want to call them to check on me, feel free. Ask for Jeremy Thorndike in their Sydney offices. If you call right now, you'll get their after-hours switchboard, but if you say you're calling on my behalf, you will be put right through to Jeremy. I'll give you five minutes." The hold music returned and Sean smiled broadly and nodded at Amanda to show his satisfaction with the role she was playing. Pierre was back within the time limit he had been given. "Mr. and Mrs. Wallace, I want to apologize and take the opportunity to congratulate both of you. Now, how can I be of service?" "I assume that Jeremy didn't have much time but was suitably able to convince you of my validity?" "Yes Mrs. Wallace. He made it clear that you were someone I should take very seriously. Trust me, I do." Amanda continued without acknowledging Pierre's comments. "We want to know what circumstances may have occurred that would have usurped Sean's authority with his own employees. Every request or instruction given today to an employee of one of our companies has been met with reluctance until it is approved by Tom Folsom. Why would employees of our company feel recalcitrant where Sean's instructions are concerned?" "Well, it's rather complicated to explain over the phone..." "There is nothing complicated about this Mr. Pierre. I am still the sole owner of Wallace Enterprises, am I not?" asked Sean. "Yes, of course, but..." "No buts," said Amanda. "We want you to do your job and represent our interest over all others or I'll find someone who will. Is that understood?" "Yes, of course. What would you like me to do?" said Pierre. Amanda continued the authoritative lead that she thought Sean was seeking from her, "We want you to immediately draft a memorandum to all employees reminding them of who they work for and that any further hesitation on their behalf to follow direct instructions from either Mr. Wallace or myself will be considered insubordination and subject them to immediate termination. I want to see a copy of it on Sean's phone within thirty minutes. In addition, we want you to initiate a forensic audit of all company financials to commence no later than 48 hours from now. I want you to use auditors recommended by Thorndike and Rogers and no others. You will not notify anyone at Wallace Enterprises of this pending audit. Finally, we want you to notify all manger level employees and higher that they are to remain on-call for a meeting with Sean and myself at a time and place to be communicated to them shortly. This will be a mandatory meeting and nothing short of the person being confined to intensive care will be accepted as an excuse for not participating."

"I'll get right on it," said Pierre. "We suspect that some wholesale personnel changes have been going on in Sean's absence and I must tell you Mr. Pierre, Sean and I are both disappointed that we had to make this call to you. Your firm was entrusted to represent the interests of Sean Wallace and it appears that you have failed miserably. Your actions now will determine what the future holds for your entire firm. As Jeremy told you, you had better take me serious when I tell you that I am going to be looking into your failures much more thoroughly." Sean spoke up, "Mr. Pierre, you had better make certain that everyone in your firm, as well as everyone who works for me recognizes that Amanda Wallace speaks with the full authority of the owner. If I hear of anyone questioning her authority it will be the last thing they do as either an employee or representative of my companies. Understood? "Yes sir. I'll make certain that Mrs. Wallace's role is clearly communicated to everyone." "Do you have Sean's cell phone number Mr. Pierre?" asked Amanda. "Yes, it is in our files and in my own contact list." Amanda wanted to drive their point home one last time, "Then I strongly suggest that you learn how to use it Mr. Pierre. If another major decision is made concerning our companies without us hearing from you first your days of practicing any type of law will be over. Have I made myself clear?" "Completely Mrs. Wallace." Amanda ended the call only seconds before she broke into laughter. Sean was proud of her and wanted her to know it. "Amanda, you are the best thing to come into my life that I can ever remember. Thank you." "I feel the same way Sean. I would do anything for you. I hope you know that." Mickey had finished her call just as Amanda was making this statement and she looked between Sean and Amanda trying to see what had happened while she had been distracted. "Is everything alright?" she asked. "Sean and I were just discussing how many children we each wanted to have," teased Amanda. "I see," said Mickey as she started eating her sandwich. "Well, a bus is on its way south. Our challenge is finding someplace for the girls to be processed that doesn't add to their fear and confusion. None of the medical facilities in the metro Atlanta area have space for 25 young girls and our Immigration Detention Center would be a pretty brutal environment considering what these girls have been through. We're trying to find a hotel or other facility that we would be able to secure for a couple of days." "Does Mrs. Wallace want to work some more of her magic?" Sean asked. Mickey raised an eyebrow but said nothing. "What do you have in mind?" Amanda asked. "I need to leave my phone open for a few minutes to get the roadblock coordinated, but if you'll look through the contact list and write down the information for Keith Longo, maybe you can call him on Mickey's phone. He is, or at least was, vice president of my hospitality division. We have multiple hotel and motel properties in the Atlanta area, so see if he can find us twenty to thirty rooms at one location that we can use while processing the girls. Mickey, do you think that would be enough rooms for the girls and your personnel?"

As Sean was finishing Amanda found Keith Longo's information and was writing it down. "Got it," she told Sean. After considering the situation, Mickey answered Sean's question as she handed her cell phone over the seat to Amanda, "If we double some of the girls up, putting a younger girl with an older one whenever possible, twenty to thirty rooms will be more than adequate." As she was preparing to dial the number she had for Keith Longo, Sean's cell phone rang. She decided to wait to hear about the roadblock before getting distracted. Sean answered his phone, "Wallace." After listening for a few minutes he said, "Text the cell phone numbers for each of the truck drivers to the following number." He provided his Uncle Kirby's cell phone number. "They need to get in position now, so I suggest that they stay close to 475 and wait for the target to approach. Make certain that they space themselves out so they don't appear to be together until we make our move. Right, thanks." Without saying anything to Mickey or Amanda, Sean called his Uncle Kirby. "We're ready to implement a rescue operation," Sean said once Kirby was on the phone. "I have contacted our truck stop off exit 155 on interstate 75. Assuming the target truck uses the bypass around Macon, in approximately forty-five minutes we will have three of our own trucks positioned to box in the target truck along interstate 475. I can probably handle the captors in the blue van by myself, but if you could get me some additional support I would appreciate it. The cell phone numbers for the trucks will be texted to you, so I'll need you to coordinate a conference call between all of them, my cell phone, and anyone else that we can get involved in the rescue operation. We're going to have to finish our communications prior to initiating the actual roadblock because we will need the cell towers turned off to prevent any of the traders or someone in the truck raising an alarm farther down the distribution channel." "What about the girls in the truck?" asked Kirby. "Mickey Anderson already has a bus heading south from Atlanta and my darling wife Amanda is going to make hotel reservations for everyone." "Your darling wife?" chuckled Kirby. "I'll explain it later," said Sean. "Are you on board with the plan?" "How do you want to handle other vehicles on the interstate?" asked Kirby. "475 northbound has three lanes in the area I'm targeting. Our activity will tie up at least the right two lanes for the duration of the roadblock and rescue, but once we have the situation secured, we should be able to get the entire roadway cleared and all vehicles off to the right shoulder. It might be safer if the local authorities could block the highway for the takedown and then just the right lane for a while, at least until we can get the girls loaded onto their bus." "I think we can stage some local marked cruisers out of sight on a few on-ramps so they can support you from behind when the time is right," said Kirby. "That's what I was hoping," agreed Sean. "Let's get to work."

Good evening please kindly confirm how to get either the soft or hard copy of Heavy Traffic. Thank you .

kokumo1949:
Good evening please kindly confirm how to get either the soft or hard copy of Heavy Traffic. Thank you .

ya gud pm.as @ now its not. in d net or in a book form.we still av dem in sheets of papers trying 2 do d best we can editing it.

Heavy Traffic Ch. 04 by BobbyBrandt © Sean and Mickey continued to discuss their tactics for the rescue as Amanda checked Sean's e-mail and noticed a new message from Bryce Pierre. "Bryce Pierre has sent out an e-mail," she told Sean. Do you want me to read it to you?" "Yeah, let's see what he had to say." Amanda started reading aloud; 'To: All employees of Wallace Enterprises From: Bryce Pierre - Attorney at Law Subject: Insubordination As the legal representative for Wallace Enterprises and its owner Sean Wallace, I have been asked to remind all employees of their role within the organization. Wallace Enterprises is divided into three divisions; Hospitality, Retail, and Communications. These divisions are comprised of multiple independent companies operating under their own management, brand and banner, but they are all wholly owned by Wallace Enterprises. Wallace Enterprises in turn is wholly owned by Sean Wallace. Consequently, every employee of a Wallace Enterprises company reports in the end to Mr. Wallace. The final authority for all decisions related to any Wallace Enterprises division, company or employee continues to reside solely with Sean Wallace, although he expects you all to recognize this authority is shared equally with Mrs. Amanda Wallace from this day forward. All employees of Wallace Enterprises are hereby notified that any hesitation or failure to comply with direct instructions or requests from Sean or Amanda Wallace will be deemed insubordinate and subject to immediate termination. Questions concerning this memorandum should be directed to your immediate manager or human resources.' "Let's see how it works," said Amanda as she used Mickey's phone to try to reach Keith Longo. Dialing the number taken from Sean's phone she waited for her call to be answered. "Mr. Morris' office," came the greeting as the call was answered. "Good day," said Amanda. "I'm trying to reach Keith Longo" "Keith Longo is no longer with us. Mark Morris is now Vice President of Hospitality." "When did Keith leave the company?" asked Amanda. "May I ask who is calling?" said the secretary. "My name is Amanda Wallace. May I ask what your name is?" "My name is Nina Aldaco. How can I help you?" "Nina, do you have e-mail?" "Sure," said Nina. "Will you please check your e-mail and tell me if you have received one recently from a Bryce Pierre?" "Okay, hold on." There was a brief pause before she said, "Yes, I just received it about five minutes ago." "Please read it now," said Amanda. "Let me know when you are done." Amanda could almost see Nina's lips moving as she envisioned her reading the e-mail. "I'm done," Nina said. "What does the e-mail have to do with Keith Longo? He's no longer with the company." "Nina, my name is Amanda Wallace. Did you notice me being mentioned in the e-mail from Bryce Pierre?" "I saw your name, yes." "Do you understand that Sean Wallace owns the company that you work for and that he has final authority on all decisions made relative to the operation of the company?" "I understand that he owns the company, but in the six months that I have been here, I have never met Mr. Wallace, so I wouldn't know him if he stood in front of me right now. Furthermore, he may own the company, but I report directly to Mr. Morris and until instructed otherwise by someone who I do know and recognize as having the proper authority tells me otherwise, that is where my first responsibility lies." "Nina, please put this Mr. Morris on the phone." "I cannot tell Mr. Morris to take a call from you or anyone else. I can inform him that you are on the phone and see if he wants to talk to you. Would you like me to do that?" Amanda respected the way this assistant was standing up to her. "Yes please." "I'll see if he is available." She place Amanda on hold. When she came back she asked, "Can I tell Mr. Morris what this is regarding?" "Why don't you tell him it is regarding the e-mail from Bryce Pierre to start with?" "Okay, hold on." After only a few seconds she was back. "Mr. Morris asks for me to take a message." "Nina, I am not requesting any longer. You will get Mr. Morris on this phone immediately or your employment is terminated. Sean Wallace owns the company you work for Nina, and I am Mrs. Wallace. Do you need me to spell things out for you any clearer than that?" "If you are who you say you are and want to fire me for doing my job then please do. I wouldn't want to work for you anyway. Hold on," she said as she once again placed Amanda on hold. "This is Mark Morris. Who am I speaking with?" The voice she heard had such an insignificant tonal quality and was so devoid of inflection that Amanda was surprised it could be carried over telephone lines. "Mr. Morris, my name is Amanda Wallace. If you have taken the time to read the e-mail from Bryce Pierre, you should know who I am." "Actually, you are some strange voice on the other end of a telephone line and I have no evidence that you are anyone I should even be talking with," said Morris. "Fair enough Mr. Morris. Your employment with Wallace Enterprises is hereby terminated. You will have ten minutes to vacate the building before I have you arrested for trespassing. Please take Nina Aldaco with you." "Now wait a minute," Morris said. "How am I supposed to know who you really are? "That's your problem. I tried to be professional and civil with both you and your little gargoyle, but neither Sean nor I will tolerate insubordination. If you question my authority you can take it up with the police officers who will be arriving shortly to escort you from the building." "Okay, okay," he said. "I believe you are who you say you are. What can I do for you?" "I need you to arrange for 30 rooms at one of our properties in the Atlanta area for five nights starting tonight, preferably all on the same floor. I don't care if you have to relocate guests to other properties, cancel reservations or kick people out. Your instructions are to find me the rooms, period. Understood?" "May I ask why?" said Morris. "Certainly, and the reason is one that you need to remember for the future. The reason is because your boss told you to. Any further questions?" "No," said Morris through gritted teeth. "How do you want me to confirm the rooms and the location to you?" "Send an e-mail to Sean's e-mail address with the details. You haven't impressed me so far Mr. Morris, let's see if you can do better. Goodbye." Amanda handed the phone back to Mickey. "That should be taken care of," she said. Sean looked at her in the rearview mirror. "You were talking to someone named Mark Morris?" Amanda nodded. "Apparently he replaced Keith Longo. I take it you knew nothing about the change?" "If I did, it wouldn't have happened. How could anyone think that I would ever let Mark Morris work for one of my companies?" "Why?" asked Amanda. "Mark Morris is the guy that was pretending to be Kimberly's brother," said Sean.

"Sean, I'm beginning to think that we have some serious personnel issues to deal with." "Yes Mrs. Wallace, I think we do." *** Tom Folsom was recovering from his latest sexual tryst with Kimberly Morris (nee DuPont) when his cell phone rang. Kimberly handed him the phone from the bedside table as she left the bed, walked to the bathroom and closed the door behind her. Folsom saw from his caller ID that the call was from Kimberly's husband and smiled as he answered, "What's up Mark?" "It looks like our Boy Scout has resurfaced and he appears to have brought a missus Boy Scout back with him. You need to check the e-mail that Bryce Pierre just sent out. Actually, now it appears there's more than one. Hold on, let me read this new one." While Morris read the new e-mail, Folsom went to his laptop on the desk in the bedroom and logged into his own e-mail account. Kimberly came out of the bathroom with a damp washcloth and began to silently clean the remnants of their sex from him as he read the messages. "You don't have any idea who this Amanda Wallace is?" asked Folsom. Kimberly raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything. "No clue," said Morris. "She certainly believes she has some authority though. I can tell you that she has an accent - it sounded British but it may have been Australian. I've never been good at distinguishing the difference between the two. If she is to be believed, she will not tolerate anything short of immediate and full compliance with her orders. I didn't want to test her too much when she called me." "Has anyone actually heard from the Boy Scout himself?" asked Folsom. "Apparently he made arrangements earlier today through his assistant Maureen to fly someone named Glenn Parker from Dulles to Bainbridge, Georgia." Kimberly saw the reaction to whatever her husband had told Folsom before Morris heard it in his response, "Did you say Glenn Parker and he was being flown to Bainbridge?" "That's what I was told," replied Morris. "See what other information you can dig up on the reason for the flight arrangements, and do it quickly. We may have bigger problems than a meddlesome owner showing up." Looking down at Kimberly as she started trying to restore his arousal with her mouth he added, "Have you spoken to anyone else about any of this yet?" "No," said Morris. "I assume Kimberly is with still with you, so you can share what you want with her." Mark knew exactly what his wife and Tom Folsom did while together. He had been their cuckold since he and Kimberly met and accepted his role willingly. "I'll discuss it with her when the time is right. I think the three of us need to have a conference call with Bryce Pierre this afternoon." "Got it. Talk to you later." Kimberly removed her mouth from Folsom when she saw that her efforts were not achieving the desired results. "Want to tell me what's going on?" "You may want to read these two e- mails and then we'll see if we can start figuring out what's going on together." He stood from the chair so that she could sit down in front of the laptop. She opened the oldest e-mail from Bryce Pierre first. "Did that son of a bitch marry someone?" she seethed. "Who is this Amanda Wallace?" "It appears that she and Sean are husband and wife from the content and tone of Pierre's e-mail. Your husband said that she has an accent, either British or Australian, and apparently she expects people to do what she says when she says it." Folsom nudged Kimberly out of the chair and took her place, "You better get dressed and on your way. I need for you to be in your own office before I arrange a conference call with Pierre." Kimberly's anger had replaced her own arousal so Folsom received no argument from her as she went back into the bathroom and started the shower. *** Sean turned his attention back to the road. They had been on interstate 75 for the last ten minutes so he and Mickey had been watching for the target truck being followed by a blue van. He called his uncle for a location update. Kirby gave them the latest, "The target truck is in the far right lane approaching exit 117 so you're about ten miles back. There is road construction that has the highway reduced to three lanes at that point. Your vehicle description has been sent to all the local authorities, so you have a green light to push your speed as circumstances allow." "How soon can you coordinate a conference call with the three other trucks?" "I want to confirm a couple of other arrangements for your support first. Let's shoot for about ten minutes from now and I'll bring everyone in on a conference call from here," said Kirby. "Sounds good. Talk to you then." When Sean disconnected the call, Amanda asked him if she could use his phone to check his e-mail for a confirmation from Mark Morris. "Sure," said Sean. "While you have it, you may want to call Brian Hibbert. He is in charge of IT support for my sporting goods retail operation, 'Wilderness Outfitters'. His office is in Alpharetta, Georgia so depending on the hotel we stay at he will be within an hour's drive from us. Ask him to get you setup with an e-mail account with Wallace Enterprises, then tell him what you would like for a cell phone, laptop and anything else you want. Tell him we want it prepared to be delivered to you tonight at the latest." "Thank you Sean that would make things much easier for me." "Nothing's too good for Mrs. Wallace," Sean grinned at her. Mickey's expression was turning more and more stoic as Sean and Amanda continued their charade of being husband and wife, but she didn't say anything. Amanda found an e-mail from Mark Morris and after reading it relayed the information to Sean and Mickey, "Mr. Morris' tone denotes a need for some attitude adjustment but he has confirmed thirty rooms for us at a hotel called 'Wonderland Inn and Suites' off interstate 20, near someplace called 'Six Flags over Georgia". "The girls will like that place," said Sean. "The 'Wonderland' brand is our family-oriented chain. We try to place them near amusement parks and other attractions popular with families. The rooms and amenities are tailored more for children than hotels that cater to business travelers." "Let me call Mr. Morris back and let him know that I received the information," said Amanda, but she didn't wait for a response before dialing the phone. "Mr. Morris' office." Amanda recognized Nina's voice. "Hello Nina. This is Amanda Wallace again. May I speak with Mr. Morris please?" "Certainly Mrs. Wallace, I'll get him for you. Please hold on." Mark Morris was on the phone within seconds, "Mrs. Wallace?" "Mr. Morris, I wanted to thank you for your assistance with the rooms. That is exactly the type of performance Sean and I will expect from all of our employees in the future. I look forward to meeting you in the very near future. You did receive notice that we will be calling a managers meeting soon, didn't you?" "Yes I did. Does this mean that you and Mr. Wallace will be taking a more hands-on role from now on?" "I am not going to discuss our intentions with you Mr. Morris because they are not your concern. Just keep doing your job and following directions given to you and the future will take care of itself. How long have you been in your current position Mr. Morris?" "I have been here six months" "And what happened to Keith Longo to make your position available to you?" "Keith was discharged," said Morris. "Interesting," said Amanda. "I'm sure that Sean would have mentioned it to me if he discharged one of our vice presidents, so maybe you can enlighten me as to who other than either Mr. Wallace or me feels that they had the authority to discharge Keith Longo." "I wasn't with the company at the time, so I can't say who made the decision," said Morris but his wavering voice implied that he did. "Well then," Amanda continued, "Assuming that the same person who felt they had the authority to fire Keith Longo also felt that they had the authority to hire his replacement, maybe you can tell me who it was that hired you?" Morris knew that Tom Folsom would not be pleased but he saw no way to avoid answering the question posed to him, "I was hired by Tom Folsom." "Ah yes, the elusive Mr. Tom Folsom. Tell me Mr. Morris, are you loyal to Mr. Folsom?" "Sure, I guess. He's treated me well and I respect him, so yeah I would say I'm loyal to him." "That's fine. Now tell me if you are more loyal to Mr. Folsom than you are to Mr. Wallace and me? I mean, your history of deception where Sean is concerned would surely make us curious don't you think?" "I don't know what you mean," said Morris. "Do you intend to blame Kimberly DuPont for all the deception, Mr. Morris?" He was silent so long that Amanda decided to prompt him, "How is Kimberly by the way?" His response was so low that Amanda barely heard it, "She's fine." "How does she feel about you working for Sean?" "Well, I have been reporting to Tom Folsom since I started so it hasn't been an issue for us yet." "Do you think it will be an issue once the proper chain of command is re- established?" "Reporting to you or Sean will be a bigger issue for her than for me," he offered. "How so?" Amanda asked. "Kimberly was hired to replace Marilyn Turner as vice president of the Communications division the same time I was hired for my position." "Was Marilyn Turner also discharged?" asked Amanda. "Yes." "Interesting. Mr. Morris, when you happen to speak to Mr. Folsom please let him know that I would like to chat with him at his earliest convenience or by the end of business today, whichever occurs first." "I'll pass your request along..." Amanda's voice became very firm and tight, "Mr. Morris, do not ever confuse a direct order from me as a 'request'. Is that clear?" "Yes it is." "Good. Thank you again for arranging for the rooms." She disconnected the call and handed the phone back to Sean. "It appears that this Tom Folsom fellow has initiated a mutiny of sorts within your company Sean," said Amanda. "What do you know about him?" "We'll discuss it later," said Sean, dismissing the subject with obvious irritation in his voice. "You forgot to call Brian Hibbert." He handed the phone back to her. "Please make it quick." Amanda wasn't offended by Sean's tone as she took the phone back, scrolled through the contact list until she found the right number, and then hit "dial". "IT, Brian speaking." "Hello Brian, my name is Amanda Wallace." "Hello Mrs. Wallace. Congratulations to you and Sean. What can I do for you?" "Sean asked me to call you to have you set me up with a corporate e-mail account and to see if you could provide me with a cell phone and laptop computer." "It would be my pleasure. I'll get your e- mail account established immediately. Your user name will be your first name and last name separated by a period at Wallace dot com. Your temporary password will be today's date, entering two digits for both the month and day but four digits for the year. No spaces or symbols." "Sounds easy enough," Amanda said. "What type of cell phone and laptop would you like?" Brian asked. "I think things would be simplest if you were to get me the exact same models for both as Sean currently has. That way we can share accessories, chargers, and be able to seamlessly move between each other's units." Amanda enjoyed the permanence that her request implied. "I hope I'm not being too forward, but I can see how Sean would have been attracted to you. You obviously have great common sense and make very wise choices." "Thank you Brian, I am flattered. How soon can you have the items ready?" "I have the items available now. The cell phone will need to be activated and have a number assigned to it, but my rep with the cell phone company should be able to handle that within half an hour. With your permission, I will go ahead and setup and then synchronize your e-mail account on it." "That would be appreciated Brian. Thank you" "My pleasure. The laptop is also available but it will take about two hours to burn the standard image files onto the hard drive." "That's wonderful Brian. Would you be able to have the items couriered to me at the Wonderland Inn and Suites off interstate 20 near Six Flags as soon as they're ready? If I haven't checked in yet, just leave them with the front desk for me." "Consider it done. Is there anything else that I can do for you Mrs. Wallace?" "Not at the moment, but I may be calling on you for some additional IT projects in the near future." "I look forward to meeting you. Take care." Amanda handed the phone back to Sean once again. He nodded and smiled at her as he paired the hands-free Bluetooth one more time and also plugged in the charger to the cigarette lighter so that he wouldn't have to worry about the battery going dead on them. Sean had also liked the permanence that Amanda's request implied, and he felt proud that others were as impressed with his "wife" as he was.

Mickey continued to observe Sean's responses to Amanda. She had to admit that Amanda certainly knew how to handle herself and to effectively impart her will onto others, using either kindness or intimidation when each was called for. She had a smile that inspired servitude, without arrogance or entitlement. Each interaction that Sean had observed between Amanda and another person had obviously increased his admiration in her. Her "Adam, come try a taste of this apple" smile had been saved exclusively for Sean, and it had apparently worked its magic. It was also obvious that Amanda worshiped Sean and she made no secret of her devotion to him. For two people who had known each other for only a few hours, there was a clear and visible bond, and much to Mickey's dismay, it seemed to be growing by the minute. Amanda was about to impress her and Sean even further. "Sean, could I make a suggestion about the rescue?" Amanda asked. Sean met her eyes in the rearview mirror and said, "What's that?" "We're assuming that the blue van following the truck is carrying the traders, right? I suggest that we verify that by you driving past the van and let me see if I recognize anyone in it. If it is holding the traders, then I'll try to get a count of how many of them are in the van, which will then tell us how many might be either in the cab of the truck or inside the carrier with the girls. Ideally, all six traders would be in the blue van, which would allow us to separate them from the truck and make rescuing the girls much safer for everyone." "How would you suggest separating the van from the truck?" "The first idea that comes to mind is to give them a flat tire so that they have to pull over to the side of the road. If you position this car behind them, maybe Mickey could shoot out their right rear tire without them noticing the shot. Once they are on the side of the road and away from the truck, they would be sitting ducks." Sean considered her suggestion. "Even if only some of the traders are in the van, dividing their force makes sense. Okay, let's start by passing the van and getting you a chance to see inside it. My back windows are tinted dark enough that no one will be able to see you back there as long as you don't press your face against the inside of the glass." "Speak of the devil," said Mickey. "I think I have the blue van in sight about a half mile ahead in the right lane." "Okay," said Sean. "I'll pass it on the left so why don't you go ahead and scoot over to the right side of the back seat Amanda. Mickey, as we pass the truck try to see if there is anyone in the cab besides the driver. You may not be able to see anything until we're far enough in front of it for you to see the windshield in your side mirror so let's get it adjusted for you now. I have the controls over here, so I'll move it per your instructions. Use one of the trucks behind us as your guide." Mickey guided the adjustment of the right side mirror until it was positioned so that she could use it to see the windshield of trucks as they passed them. "All set," she said. Amanda had moved over behind Mickey and she also confirmed that she was in position. Sean sped up to cut the distance between them and the blue van faster. Within only a few seconds, they were passing it. Sean slowed slightly to allow Amanda plenty of time to inspect the occupants of the van. "I recognize the driver and front passenger," said Amanda. There are two passengers in the middle seat and two more in the very back seat, but I can't see their faces clearly. I would say that we have all six of the traders in the van." "That's good news," said Sean. "Now let's see if the driver of the truck is alone. Get ready Mickey." Sean sped up again to pass the container truck. He had to get ahead of it by several car lengths before Mickey had the windshield visible to her in the side mirror. "Only the driver is visible," she said. "Okay," said Sean. "I'm going to get off at the next exit and let them get in front of us again." He heard his cell phone ring through the car's speakers and he answered it. "Sean?" said his Uncle Kirby. "Hold on while I bring the three drivers on the line with us." "Before you do, Amanda got a look at the men in the blue van and identified them as the ones who captured her and the girls. That is definite confirmation that we have the right truck and it is our target," said Sean. "Good to know," said Kirby. "Hold on. Stan, Bruce, and Tony; are all of you on?" Three separate voices acknowledged their connection to the conference call. "Good. Sean, why don't you take it from here?" "Yes sir. Gentlemen, my name is Sean Wallace. While you all work for one of the companies I own, I am recruiting each of you today to perform a task in service to your country, not to me or my companies. We need your assistance to rescue 25 young girls who are being held prisoner against their will. There should be no danger to any of you related to your participation in this operation, and your activities will be legal and fully sanctioned by the proper authorities. I must insist that you keep our operation secret until it is completed, but after that, you will be free to discuss it. Are you all in agreement with participating in the operation under these terms?" "Yes," came the first response. "Count me in," came the second. "I'm in," came the third. "Thanks," said Sean. "Now here's what we need to do. The target truck is currently northbound on I-75 approaching exit 146. As soon as it passes exit 155 where the three of you are waiting, you will need to enter the highway and start positioning yourselves. Once the target truck has committed to taking the interstate 475 bypass around Macon, one of you will need to move in front of the target while at the same time another of you needs to pull directly to the left of the target and pace it exactly. That will have it blocked front and side. There is a blue van following the truck and my silver Volvo SUV will be behind it. I need the third of you to move in behind my car. Several marked and unmarked police cars will be tight on your tail waiting so don't get concerned when you see them. Any questions so far?" One of the truckers spoke up, "This is Bruce. I'll take the lead position in front of the target; Tony why don't you take the side and Stan you can take the rear. I understand we don't want to use cell phones during the operation itself, so let's plan on channel eight on our CB's so that it would be a quick flip if we needed to switch to channel nine for communicating with the police." The other two truckers agreed with Bruce's suggestion as Sean continued, "We have two sections of I-475 that we want to try and use. The first is the section between exits five and nine and the second is between exits nine and fifteen. As soon as the target passes exit five, I will attempt to get in position for a shot to be made from the passenger side of my car aimed at the right rear tire of the blue van. If successful, the resulting flat tire will cause the van to pull over to the shoulder where upon the police following Stan will surround it and take the six occupants into custody. As soon as the blue van is separated from the target, we need to box it in and force it to stop, preferably along the shoulder, but in the right lane if necessary. Bruce will gradually slow to a stop, and with Tony blocking the next lane over, the target should have no choice but to stop as well. Bruce, if you see the target trying to pass you on the right, you will need to counter that move by sliding over and Tony will need to do likewise from the side. I will remain directly behind the target, trying to remain so close that I am in the driver's blind spot so that all he'll see behind him will be Stan's truck. Once we have the target stopped, I will secure the driver and anyone else in the cab, after which we open the back of the container to release the girls. Does this plan sound okay to you guys?" The three truckers agreed with the plan as described. Kirby added a few more details, "There will be an Air Force copter dispatched from Warner-Robins within the next few minutes. The gunner has everyone's cell phone numbers and will send a group text when he sees the target truck passing exit 155. It will be positioned for its fifty millimeter gun to support the capture of the blue van first, and then will move up to cover the capture of the truck. How long do we anticipate before the bus and additional I.C.E. resources arrive to the location?" Mickey checked the time on the dashboard clock before answering, "Now that we have an approximate location I can ask for a firmer ETA, but I would say right now that the bus should be on location within half an hour of the rescue if not sooner. Remember that it will be heading southbound, so unless there is a spot for it to cross the center median, it will need to go past to the first exit where it would have an opportunity to turn around and return."

Mickey continued to observe Sean's responses to Amanda. She had to admit that Amanda certainly knew how to handle herself and to effectively impart her will onto others, using either kindness or intimidation when each was called for. She had a smile that inspired servitude, without arrogance or entitlement. Each interaction that Sean had observed between Amanda and another person had obviously increased his admiration in her. Her "Adam, come try a taste of this apple" smile had been saved exclusively for Sean, and it had apparently worked its magic. It was also obvious that Amanda worshiped Sean and she made no secret of her devotion to him. For two people who had known each other for only a few hours, there was a clear and visible bond, and much to Mickey's dismay, it seemed to be growing by the minute. Amanda was about to impress her and Sean even further. "Sean, could I make a suggestion about the rescue?" Amanda asked. Sean met her eyes in the rearview mirror and said, "What's that?" "We're assuming that the blue van following the truck is carrying the traders, right? I suggest that we verify that by you driving past the van and let me see if I recognize anyone in it. If it is holding the traders, then I'll try to get a count of how many of them are in the van, which will then tell us how many might be either in the cab of the truck or inside the carrier with the girls. Ideally, all six traders would be in the blue van, which would allow us to separate them from the truck and make rescuing the girls much safer for everyone." "How would you suggest separating the van from the truck?" "The first idea that comes to mind is to give them a flat tire so that they have to pull over to the side of the road. If you position this car behind them, maybe Mickey could shoot out their right rear tire without them noticing the shot. Once they are on the side of the road and away from the truck, they would be sitting ducks." Sean considered her suggestion. "Even if only some of the traders are in the van, dividing their force makes sense. Okay, let's start by passing the van and getting you a chance to see inside it. My back windows are tinted dark enough that no one will be able to see you back there as long as you don't press your face against the inside of the glass." "Speak of the devil," said Mickey. "I think I have the blue van in sight about a half mile ahead in the right lane." "Okay," said Sean. "I'll pass it on the left so why don't you go ahead and scoot over to the right side of the back seat Amanda. Mickey, as we pass the truck try to see if there is anyone in the cab besides the driver. You may not be able to see anything until we're far enough in front of it for you to see the windshield in your side mirror so let's get it adjusted for you now. I have the controls over here, so I'll move it per your instructions. Use one of the trucks behind us as your guide." Mickey guided the adjustment of the right side mirror until it was positioned so that she could use it to see the windshield of trucks as they passed them. "All set," she said. Amanda had moved over behind Mickey and she also confirmed that she was in position. Sean sped up to cut the distance between them and the blue van faster. Within only a few seconds, they were passing it. Sean slowed slightly to allow Amanda plenty of time to inspect the occupants of the van. "I recognize the driver and front passenger," said Amanda. There are two passengers in the middle seat and two more in the very back seat, but I can't see their faces clearly. I would say that we have all six of the traders in the van." "That's good news," said Sean. "Now let's see if the driver of the truck is alone. Get ready Mickey." Sean sped up again to pass the container truck. He had to get ahead of it by several car lengths before Mickey had the windshield visible to her in the side mirror. "Only the driver is visible," she said. "Okay," said Sean. "I'm going to get off at the next exit and let them get in front of us again." He heard his cell phone ring through the car's speakers and he answered it. "Sean?" said his Uncle Kirby. "Hold on while I bring the three drivers on the line with us." "Before you do, Amanda got a look at the men in the blue van and identified them as the ones who captured her and the girls. That is definite confirmation that we have the right truck and it is our target," said Sean. "Good to know," said Kirby. "Hold on. Stan, Bruce, and Tony; are all of you on?" Three separate voices acknowledged their connection to the conference call. "Good. Sean, why don't you take it from here?" "Yes sir. Gentlemen, my name is Sean Wallace. While you all work for one of the companies I own, I am recruiting each of you today to perform a task in service to your country, not to me or my companies. We need your assistance to rescue 25 young girls who are being held prisoner against their will. There should be no danger to any of you related to your participation in this operation, and your activities will be legal and fully sanctioned by the proper authorities. I must insist that you keep our operation secret until it is completed, but after that, you will be free to discuss it. Are you all in agreement with participating in the operation under these terms?" "Yes," came the first response. "Count me in," came the second. "I'm in," came the third. "Thanks," said Sean. "Now here's what we need to do. The target truck is currently northbound on I-75 approaching exit 146. As soon as it passes exit 155 where the three of you are waiting, you will need to enter the highway and start positioning yourselves. Once the target truck has committed to taking the interstate 475 bypass around Macon, one of you will need to move in front of the target while at the same time another of you needs to pull directly to the left of the target and pace it exactly. That will have it blocked front and side. There is a blue van following the truck and my silver Volvo SUV will be behind it. I need the third of you to move in behind my car. Several marked and unmarked police cars will be tight on your tail waiting so don't get concerned when you see them. Any questions so far?" One of the truckers spoke up, "This is Bruce. I'll take the lead position in front of the target; Tony why don't you take the side and Stan you can take the rear. I understand we don't want to use cell phones during the operation itself, so let's plan on channel eight on our CB's so that it would be a quick flip if we needed to switch to channel nine for communicating with the police." The other two truckers agreed with Bruce's suggestion as Sean continued, "We have two sections of I-475 that we want to try and use. The first is the section between exits five and nine and the second is between exits nine and fifteen. As soon as the target passes exit five, I will attempt to get in position for a shot to be made from the passenger side of my car aimed at the right rear tire of the blue van. If successful, the resulting flat tire will cause the van to pull over to the shoulder where upon the police following Stan will surround it and take the six occupants into custody. As soon as the blue van is separated from the target, we need to box it in and force it to stop, preferably along the shoulder, but in the right lane if necessary. Bruce will gradually slow to a stop, and with Tony blocking the next lane over, the target should have no choice but to stop as well. Bruce, if you see the target trying to pass you on the right, you will need to counter that move by sliding over and Tony will need to do likewise from the side. I will remain directly behind the target, trying to remain so close that I am in the driver's blind spot so that all he'll see behind him will be Stan's truck. Once we have the target stopped, I will secure the driver and anyone else in the cab, after which we open the back of the container to release the girls. Does this plan sound okay to you guys?" The three truckers agreed with the plan as described. Kirby added a few more details, "There will be an Air Force copter dispatched from Warner-Robins within the next few minutes. The gunner has everyone's cell phone numbers and will send a group text when he sees the target truck passing exit 155. It will be positioned for its fifty millimeter gun to support the capture of the blue van first, and then will move up to cover the capture of the truck. How long do we anticipate before the bus and additional I.C.E. resources arrive to the location?" Mickey checked the time on the dashboard clock before answering, "Now that we have an approximate location I can ask for a firmer ETA, but I would say right now that the bus should be on location within half an hour of the rescue if not sooner. Remember that it will be heading southbound, so unless there is a spot for it to cross the center median, it will need to go past to the first exit where it would have an opportunity to turn around and return."

this is so interesting and captivating. Its like i am watching a movie

ashatoda:
this is so interesting and captivating. Its like i am watching a movie

Sit back an relax cus dis movie as not even started getting interesting.

sirExPresiDent:
Sit back an relax cus dis movie as not even started getting interesting.

Yeah, in dat foreign english voice, 'lets go there'.

[quote][/quote]

"I'll check with the Georgia State Police to see where the median crossings are along the sections we are targeting and let you know," said Kirby. "Great," said Sean. "If there are no more questions, Bruce, Stan and Tony need to get their trucks ready to roll as soon as you receive the text. If the target takes I-75 instead of I-475, continue to follow it and we'll regroup north of where the two highways meet up again near Forsyth. Good luck everyone." Once the call ended Mickey wanted to voice a concern. She would have preferred to mention it just to Sean, but she couldn't justify asking Amanda for privacy at this point, although Sean would be exiting the highway soon to allow the target truck and blue van to get in front of them again. "I am concerned about the idea of shooting out the back tire. When we passed the blue van earlier I looked at the angles and the location of the fuel tank leaves a very small target area to hit the tire." Amanda heard this and added her own observation, "You will also need to be prepared to adjust for the wind velocity generated by shooting from a moving vehicle." Looking at the trees along the side of the road she continued, "Plus there is a slight cross wind from right to left with our current driving direction. If our direction changes then the cross wind will likely change as well." Mickey was glad to have Amanda's contribution to her explanation of the challenges faced by trying to shoot out the tire as originally planned. The fact that it was Amanda's idea now being challenged made Mickey feel more confident in raising her concerns with Sean. Her confidence didn't last long. "Maybe you should take the shot from the window back here," offered Amanda. "You wouldn't have the side mirror in the way and the wind directions would be more consistent because the window here is farther back from the windshield." "Have you ever shot from a moving vehicle before?" Sean asked Amanda. "Of course," said Amanda. "That's how we used to hunt wild rabbits on the ranch. My brother would drive the pickup truck and I would shoot them out of the bed of the truck or from the cab if the weather was nasty." Turning to Mickey he asked, "What do you think about letting Amanda take the shot?" Giving Amanda one more opportunity to impress Sean was not something that Mickey was inclined to accept, but she relented under the gaze of Sean. "Well, she does have the Olympic medals..." Sean reached under his seat and removed the Smith & Wesson automatic pistol that he had clipped there. He handed it over the seat to Amanda and said, "Why don't you familiarize yourself with this and let me know if you think you can use it to hit the target?" Amanda took the pistol and examined it. "This is pretty light. You don't see many automatics without a safety." She released the magazine and cleared the chamber. "Eight shot magazine with one in the chamber and no safety? Sort of risky, isn't it Sean?" "The best safety is a trained and responsible gun owner," said Sean. Amanda thought he was being cavalier, especially since the pistol had simply been hidden under his car seat and not locked or secured in any fashion, but she decided not to mention that right now. "I would prefer a longer barrel and the light weight will be both a hindrance and a blessing, but I can make the shot with this," she said. Frustrated, Mickey asked sarcastically, "Amanda, were you Prom Queen in high school?" Recognizing the attempted jab, Amanda didn't ignore it. "I was home schooled until I left to attend Charles Darwin University when I was sixteen. I was never Prom Queen, but I was Miss Teen Australia when I was seventeen." "Is it common for students to start university at sixteen in Australia?" asked Sean. Mickey didn't want to hear the answer, sensing it would go against her like everything else about Amanda had so far. "It's not common," said Amanda, "but it's not entirely unheard of. I think most students start university when they are seventeen or eighteen. I actually started taking my university level courses via correspondence when I was fourteen because my parents didn't want me living on campus until I was at least sixteen." The ringing of Sean's cell phone interrupted the conversation about Amanda's education. "Sean Wallace," he answered. "Sean, this is Maureen. Have you got a minute?" "Sure Moe. What's up?" He had just taken an off ramp and pulled onto the shoulder of the on ramp that would allow him to pull in behind the blue van once it passed them on the highway. "I wanted to let you know that Mark Morris is pushing me for details on the flight arrangements I made for Mr. Parker. I told him that I didn't know the reason behind your request, how you knew Glenn Parker, or any other details about the circumstances leading up to your request but I don't think he believed me. He threatened that Tom Folsom would fire me by the end of the day unless I cooperated with him and told him what he wanted to know. I wanted you to know in case he has my phone and system access shut down and you needed to get in touch with me. Do you still have my home and personal cell numbers?" "Yes Moe I have them, but you will not be fired. Trust me." Turning to Amanda he said, "Do you mind if I handle this for now?" With a grin she said, "Please do." "Okay Moe, here's what I want you to do. I want you to go home. I will contact you there if I need anything, but you don't need the stress or aggravation right now. You will be hearing from either Amanda or myself when we want you back in the office." "Okay Sean, and I so look forward to meeting Amanda. I'll try not to embarrass you too badly when I turn you over my knee for not telling me you had gotten married." Hearing Amanda laughing made Maureen add, "Is that you Mrs. Wallace?" "Hi Moe, please call me Amanda. "Of course Amanda. As with Sean, if there is anything I can ever do for you, please let me know." "Just go home for now, but to add to what Sean said, please keep us posted if you hear anything from other employees that you feel we should know about." "Thank you Amanda, thank you Sean. Bye." As soon as the call ended, Sean initiated a new one using voice command, "Call Brian Hibbert." The sound of the phone ringing was short as Brian answered almost immediately, "IT, Brian speaking." "Brian, this is Sean Wallace. Amanda is here with me and we wanted to thank you for jumping on her request so quickly." "It is my pleasure Sean. The cell phone is ready and the laptop should be finished loading the image within the hour. You still want them to go to the hotel as Amanda instructed?" "Yes, that will be fine. The reason I'm calling now is related to Amanda mentioning some additional IT projects that we would need your assistance with. You do have full system admin rights for all of Wallace Enterprises don't you?" "I do. What do you need? "Write down these three names; Tom Folsom, Mark Morris, and either Kimberly Morris or DuPont. I'm not sure how she may be setup in the system." "I do," said Brian. "She's setup as 'Kimberly Morris'." "Okay," said Sean. "We want you to restrict the system access for all three of these employees immediately. No more access to any servers, applications or accounts other than corporate e-mail and we want that restricted to them only being able to send and receive e-mails from either myself or Amanda. Can you do that?" "You don't want me to just delete their user ID's completely?" asked Brian. "No, I don't want them terminated yet, I just want them to get the message that they are being put on a very short leash for the time being. Understand? Also make sure that no one else in the organization with system admin rights such as yours will be able to change things once you have restricted their access. Is that possible?" "That would only be possible if I first went in and changed everyone else with system administration rights to restrict their ability to make changes. I can do that, but it leaves me as the sole master system administrator. I have an idea! Just in case something happens to me, like I get hit by a bus or something, I can setup Amanda and you with the same system administrator rights as me. That way if it ever became necessary, one of you would be able to assign rights to others." Sean looked at Amanda and she nodded. "That's fine for a short-term solution, but I would like your ideas on a more secure administration protocol going forward. I have a friend who works at Brandt Consulting. I'll send you his contact information so you can bring them in for an analysis and their suggestions." "Sounds good," said Brian. "I'll get on it right now. The restrictions will be in place within half an hour." "Thanks, and Brian you may get some pushback and even some threats about this. Know that you are bulletproof on this because Amanda and I have you covered. Got it?" "I never doubted that Sean. Holler if you need anything else." The call was disconnected. Mickey tapped Sean on the shoulder and pointed to the target truck and blue van which had just passed the on ramp they were sitting on. Sean accelerated and moved back onto the highway about a quarter mile behind their targets. Only two more exits before the split of interstates 75 and 475. The three blocking trucks should be coming on at the next on-ramp if the Air Force helicopter sends the promised text. *** "Sheriff Smith." "Hello Sheriff, this is Tom Folsom." "What can I do for you Tom?" "Sheriff, have you heard anything from the film company crew that is in your area today?" "No, and I wouldn't expect to. Why do you ask?" Folsom considered his response. "Do you know of any reason why Glenn Parker would be returning this afternoon on a private jet, landing in Bainbridge around two hours from now?" Sheriff Morgan Smith thought for a minute and said, "I have no idea. He told me that he would be gone until Friday, and today is only Wednesday. How did you hear about this?" "Sean Wallace called his secretary and asked her to make the flight arrangements for Parker." "Why would Wallace do that?" asked Smith. "Could Wallace have stumbled upon what was going on at Parker's cabin?" asked Folsom. "Their cabins are pretty far apart for Wallace to hear any screams or anything, so I don't think it's likely." "The girl chosen to act in the movie was supposed to be untraceable, right?" "That's what we were told," confirmed Smith. "Well Sheriff, you may want to check out the progress of the movie and make certain that the production is shut down before Parker gets home." "I can't send one of my deputies and that cabin is clear on the other side of the county. It will take me at least two hours to drive there from where I am."