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Our Only Hope, Chapter 04

This is Chapter Four of a book. In this chapter, Boris discovers it is the Monty brothers– Walter, Weston, William, Woody, Wulf, and Wyatt– who are after W.

The characters and situations will be more understandable if the previous chapters have been read. Because it is a book, some of the chapters are more exciting than others, and some situations do not complete until the next chapter. I could have run this through my regular publisher and made a couple hundred dollars, but I am posting it instead because many more people read my posts than buy my books.

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WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life.

All characters involved in sexual activity in this story are over the age of 18. If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century.

Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2019 by The Technician.

Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden.

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Chapter Four

The Monty Brothers

The freed captives remained quiet as we rode to the safehouse. Maybe their rescue hadn’t quite yet sunk in, or maybe they– like me– weren’t sure their rescue was complete. From the outside, the safehouse was actually a run-down commercial building of some sort, but we couldn’t see that from inside the windowless back portion of the van. What we could see, once the van was pulled inside and the door opened, was that we were inside a large garage area that looked like it might have been a small warehouse at one time. All outside windows, even those up high on the walls and in the ventilation skylights on the roof, had been painted over with a translucent white paint. There appeared to be an office area partitioned off in one corner, and what was possibly a store area just beyond a large double door on an inside wall. Two men were waiting next to where the van stopped. Alongside them was a table with blankets, coffee, and sandwiches spread out on its surface.

Master Randolph and Master Bouchard, who had removed their masks, immediately wrapped blankets around themselves and stood next to the table with a cup of coffee in their hands. I didn’t recognize Master Bouchard at first, but as soon as he began to speak, his Québécois accent identified him for me.

Despite the rather cool temperature in the garage, slave ines refused a blanket until Master Randolph realized what she was doing and said, “You may clothe yourself.” She then eagerly grabbed one of the olive drab blankets and pulled it over her shoulders. She opened a second one slightly and dropped it to the concrete floor so that she could stand on it.

The other two freed female captives seemed to still be in shock and huddled near the door of the van, obviously still very fearful. Natasha walked over and handed them blankets, saying something to them in Portugese. She called to one of the guards and then pointed to the women. “These two,” she said firmly, “Give them clothes. Give them money. And take them wherever they want to go… within reason. They are more or less willing slaves of Master Rodriguez’s club.”

“Make sure they are fed first,” Boris added. “And don’t risk your men taking them to their home or anyplace that might be a trap.”

The guard nodded and spoke to the two women in Portugese. They followed him out of the garage. As they were leaving, Natasha called after them, “Don’t let them see the outside of this building.”

The guard called back something that sounded like “Yeah.” It might have been “Da.” In any case, Natasha paid no further attention to them, but instead wrapped poopsie in one of the blankets and handed her a cup of hot tea.

Once everyone was sure that the two women were gone, slave ines said flatly, “They were spies.” She shrugged her shoulders and continued, “They were only doing their Master’s bidding, but they were still spies. The small collar on the black-haired one must have been a bug… or at least a signaling device. If any of us tried to talk about what was happening she would reach up and touch her collar. Then the guards would rush in and use shock sticks on us to shut us up.”

“Mistress Aleana was with us for a while,” Master Randolph said. “I think she was taken earlier than us because she was here when we arrived.”

“They put her against the wall for a whole day tormenting her with the shock sticks,” slave ines said slowly. “They did something else to her after the late show. I don’t know what it was because they had already taken us down and put us in our cells in the basement.”

“I know what they did,” I said bitterly. “They stuck a sign in her mouth that said, ‘W, you are our only hope.’”

“Ah,” Master Bouchard said, “that explains a few things.”

When we all looked at him, he began, “I was taken almost a day after Master Randolph. They evidently missed me at my country house.” He paused, “I was visiting my sister and her husband when four gunmen forced their way into their home. Just before they arrived, I received a text that had been sent to the entire Shadow Council.” He raised his hands in a typical French gesture so that they were more or less forming a ‘V’ in front of his chest. “It shouldn’t have come to me, but…” he continued in a slightly higher-pitched voice, “… I was only recently elevated to a seat on the Inner Circle.”

“What’s the Shadow Council?” I asked quickly.

“Each of us,” Master Randolph explained, “has someone whom we are mentoring to possibly take our place on the Inner Circle of Masters and Mistresses. Should something happen to us, they take our place until a new member is formally approved– usually them. Should something incapacitate the entire Inner Circle, the Shadow Council is authorized to act until a new Inner Circle can be appointed.”

“OK,” I replied, then asked, “What was the message?”

“It told them,” Master Bouchard explained, “that the entire Inner Circle had been kidnapped and presented a ransom demand.”

“Which was?”

“You, W,” he replied, “… dead or alive.”

“What was their response?”

“I do not know,” he answered. “I had just read the text when the men burst through the front door. I threw my phone under the couch and surrendered to them. They told my sister and brother-in-law that they would kill them and their family if they told anyone what had happened. Twenty-four hours later, I was here.” He shrugged and made a wry face, “Though none of us are really sure where here is.”

“Mistress Aleana knew,” slave ines said slowly. “She recognized Master Rodriguez. I don’t know if she saw him without his mask or recognized his voice, but she knew who he was. She tried to tell me, but the spies kept her from saying anything.”

“Did she tell you anything?” I asked. “Maybe she worked it into a different conversation somehow.”

“They didn’t let us talk to each other much,” slave ines said. “The longest she ever got to talk was when she was talking about movies.”

“What did she say?” Master Randolph, Master Bouchard, and I asked excitedly in unison.

“She asked me,” slave ines responded, “what my favorite movie was. She said hers was something called Romancing the Stone. I’d never heard of it, but she said that if I watched just two minutes of it, I would know why it was her favorite.”

“Boris!” I called out. He responded, “Got it!” and ran to the van.

Master Randolph grinned and said, “Never play any of those trivia games with Mistress Aleana. And especially don’t bet her anything. Trust me, she will literally wop your ass.”

A few minutes later Boris returned with a small tablet. “I only downloaded the first three minutes,” he said. “It’s a sappy chick-flick adventure film from the 1980s starring Michael Douglas and Kathleen Turner.

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