Thirty Seven

The Malibu house is complete. Since much of it resembles our Arizona place, it feels like home from the first day.
Naturally Oceane and Cassie’s third floor room faces the Pacific. 
The dorm is on the third, taking the entire stretch from the front to the rear on the right corner. The kids have a two hundred seventy degree view. I think we spoil them. Amaya and Chloe have the left rear corner, floor to ceiling glass on the rear and side walls
Janah and I have a second floor rear corner, just under Amaya. Room placement doesn’t much matter, there are mountain, valley and ocean views surrounding us. Middle rooms are offices, yoga and meditation, and a two thousand square foot dance and martial arts space takes up one side of the ground floor, opening out to the pool.
Eloise, “Geez this place is huge, we might need signs, street names or something.”
Grace B, “And guess who has to clean the fucking monstrosity.”
Emma B, “Cleaning bots, you don’t do any of it.”
Sloane, “Exactly what will Grace B and Emma B do?”
Grace B, “Wait on your ass, trannie.”
Sloane laughs, “Sarah and I are going to break in my bed tonight.”
“Sarah will break in everyone’s bed, the slut.”
Sarah’s turn to giggle, “Nobody knows me like our bots.”
A stream of nude children flows by headed to the pool. Oceane has beaten them to it, Cassie floats overhead, then drops headfirst into the water.
Emma B, “Cassandra is her own diving board.”
The hive splashes in, little fish swim surrounding Oceane, she slows so they can keep up.
Janah, “Think I’ll catch a bit of sun,” she parks on a recliner, ditches her t-shirt, lays on her tummy. 
Ellen, “What a view, Janah’s perfect tush, I’m joining her.”
Then the entire crew is sunning, it feels splendid, seventy eight, a breeze, luscious naked girls. Emma and Grace bring out mimosas, we soak up an hour’s sun.
Dasha, “Children haf enough sweem and sun for one day, shower and up to your room, ees already tea time. First tea in new home.”
The kids come down in kimonos, take seats on the cushions surrounding their low table. Chloe serves them, today we use fine Japanese green, tea ceremony style.
Amaya and I serve the others, the three of us were trained by Nikko’s mom, Ari, a former geisha. I didn’t do the whole geisha program with her, Chloe and Amaya did. I have tea ceremony down cold though.
Chloe plays flute, Amaya sings, Nikko on shamisen, the children dance Maiko style, fans flutter, demure eyes over the opened fans. Their movements are synchronous, perfectly aligned around Britt, who has taken the central dance role. 
A surprise, she sings a joyful song in Japanese. Her voice is gorgeous. I had no clue she could handle such a range. Amaya doesn’t like the upper range child-voice of most Japanese or Chinese music, she finds the pitch grating. Her songs modulate from lower to mid range, there is no screechy pitch. I know enough Japanese to get that the song is a blessing of the house and its inhabitants, rather touching that.
The performance is met with cheers and applause, perhaps not so Japanese, but oh well. Britt radiates, I didn’t know it was possible to smile so wide.
The performance has moved us to cocktail hour, the children are served non-alcoholic mimosas, OJ with club soda. We spread out to tables by the pool, a superbly clear SoCal evening.
I’m sitting next to Amaya, “When did you discover Britt’s voice?”
“Almost accidentally. I was washing her hair while she Jacuzzied after one of your gung fu sessions. She started singing one of the current pop things. She carried the tune perfectly, acapella. One thing led to another, then to tonight, her debut as it were. We kept it our little secret, practiced in my room, Chloe knew of course.”
“Dang, soundproofing is even better than I thought.”
“Well, it was my room, anyone passing buy would have made an assumption that it was me.”
“True, you’re in there doing voices and songs all the time, I doubt I would have thought it was anyone else.”
“Our sneaky subterfuge worked, cannot say what the children knew, they seem to be plugged into everything, but they did not spill.”
“Those kids, who aren’t kids exactly, I wonder how it feels, maturing brain, little girl bodies. I still have an immature brain in a big girl body.”
Amaya laughs, “We like you that way, legs. Keep it simple, Janah can do the heavy thinking. Tonight, new house and all, the roommates are going to stick with their daily sleeping partner. In the near future though, you should bring those elegant limbs to me for attention.”
“Just snap your fingers honey, nobody turns down Amaya.”
“Not possible. I am going to out your daughter eventually.”
“Having any luck?”
“Luck has nothing to do with it, seduction does, and I am the penultimate seductress. Lauren will not be able to resist. I am having fun stringing it out and letting her believe she is stringing it out.”
“And I have to get in the kitchen or we’ll be stringing out dinner until midnight.”
“What is on the menu? Besides the smoked salmon and caviar we had with cocktails.”
“We were going to do steaks, but I want to do burgers on the new grill first. It’s identical to the ones we have in Arizona and Canada, but as yet unused. Needs seasoning. Tomorrow we’ll have burgers for lunch, get the thing nice and greasy. Tonight is fried catfish, coleslaw, baked beans, mac and cheese. Simple down home for our latest down home.”
“I am all anticipation, while you slave away, I shall enjoy a second vodka. I am ravaging the crap out of Chloe later, a healthy buzz will make it a religious experience.”
I smile, considering Amaya’s justifiable self glorification, she is exquisite, she is also devoted to Chloe. Particularly to Chloe’s sexual pleasure. Having Amaya’s dazzling blues looking up at you from between your legs is a religious epiphany not to be missed. Enlightenment pales by comparison.
Ellen, Dasha and I fry fish, macaroni bubbles in the oven alongside baked beans. Girls are already at table, enjoying wine while they anticipate crispy catfish, and creamy mac and cheese.
Grace B passes out bowls of coleslaw, the purple cabbage kind with shredded carrots. Instead of just mayo, we made tahini sauce for the blend. Emma B takes platters of fried catfish, then three pans of baked beans. I cut chunks of mac and cheese on separate plates, Ellen hands those around.
Nikko, “Splendid everything, compliments to the chefs.”
Ellen, “Thank you, we each did some of everything, frying that much fish is a multiple hands project.”
Janah, “This sauvignon blanc is excellent, pleasantly tart.”
Ellen is our wine buyer and sommelier, “I thought it would go over well, hope so, we have ten cases of it downstairs.”
Amaya, “That is a huge wine cellar, how many bottles do you have?”
“Maybe a thousand.”
Emma B, “Twelve hundred forty six, after tonight. The family goes through six or seven bottles a day, including Champagne. The cellar has about half a year’s worth if you lived here twelve months a year. Cellars in Arizona, Canada and New York have fewer bottles, eight hundred in Arizona, three hundred and thirty seven in Canada, five hundred fifty two in Manhattan. Two thousand nine hundred thirty five bottles.”
“How much did it cost to stock?”
Nikko, “Don’t ask.”
Emma B, “Average price, forty five dollars per, a shade over one hundred and thirty thousand. I can calculate the exact price if you wish.”
“No need. We drink a fair amount of good wine.”
Amaya, “We? You do not drink alcohol, neither does Zi. And the count doesn’t include hard liquor, is that right Emma B?”
“Correct. Russian Standard vodka, various brands of bourbon, Cognac, tequila and beer are not included in the inventory.”
Ellen, “The cellars can hold about twice as much. The amount varies depending on what I find that meets our standards. If I see a favored wine at an exceptional price, I buy in volume. Normally, Emma B tracks the inventory and orders replacements on her own, like Grace B does for kitchen staples.”
Grace B, “You are welcome, drunken piggies.”
Janah, “Speaking of which, I’d like a beer Grace B.”
“Sapporo, frozen mug, coming up Your Magnificence.”
It’s good to have bots.

Thirty Eight

Grace B corners me in the kitchen. It’s just Ellen, Dasha and me, the masses are in their rooms. The children didn’t come down for their morning swim, which means they were up late.
“Kota B said the children went off with the Gids last night, do not expect them until lunchtime. Britt will be down however.”
“She doesn’t go across the universe?”
“No, and unlike the other children, she is growing, she will not be a child forever.”
“It goes like it goes, she knew that. I don’t get any vibe she cares about remaining a child, Chloe would know better than me.”
“I have located another name on the Shadow’s list, Topeka Kansas.”
“Weird name.”
“Do not be an idiot. Research indicates this one may not be so benign. Male, age fifty three, goes by John Hadley, formerly Joe Hardy, unknown who he may have been before that.”
Dasha, “He ees for sure Shadow?”
“Also unknown, it is the name from the list, description matches the one the two Shadows gave Janah.”
“We'll get Surveillance on him. They did good work last time, saved us a trip to stalk a woman who lost her way, then found a semblance of a life as a bookkeeping guru…wait…that doesn’t sound right.”
Ellen, “We know what you mean. She’s apparently harmless enough.”
“One more bit of news from the feed, this is more like Society work.”
“A couple sets of puke parents, they live in a single house, eight kids between them, six boys, two girls. The two girls are generally left alone, at least nothing like the two boys are enduring.”
“What are they enduring.”
“Parents who think every failure to obey requires strict discipline. Strict enough to use a stun gun and an electric cattle prod.”
Ellen, “Where the fuck are the cops?”
“They are cops, the men anyway. The story came through Society channels as per usual. A relative, cousin, told one of his drinking buddies how strict these people are. He thought it was just dandy, train the kids right. His buddy did not disagree and passed it along to one of your Society contacts, told her in a way that sounded like strict discipline was just peachy. Obviously he didn't know she was a Society contact. She sent a message to Mrs. Pearson. I monitor the communications to Mrs. Pearson, it came in overnight. You and Janah are Mrs. Pearson, you have not read the message yet.”
“And where are these charmers located?”
“Longview Texas. Population eighty eight thousand, metro population over three hundred thousand. Summertime highs a hundred, high eighties to sixties the rest of the year. Median age thirty four, largest employer…”
“Cut the crap. They live together, these cops related?”
“No, commonalities are saving money and a similar child raising mindset. They are low ranking officers, patrolmen. Not enough brain power for much other than speeding tickets and general harassment. One was reprimanded twice for excessive force, the other has two fatal shootings, skated both times. One appears justified, the other was questionable, but it was him and a guy unable to testify because he was dead.”
“Put Surveillance on it, give them a heads up, these are cops, they carry guns and one of them is fond of using his. Maintain a safe distance. this must be happening at home, do not follow them around. Get photos if possible, particularly of the children, audio will do. If they’re abusing the kids, it will be noisy.”
Grace B goes off to send the encrypted message to the nearest Surveillance team. Texas has a fair amount of Society work, we can have someone on our abusers by this afternoon.
Ellen, “Sarah and I can get the parents out of commission by tomorrow if you want.”
“Not the Society’s style, but I understand the sentiment. We also can’t send other Social Workers, these are cops, used to weapons and violence. And all cops are paranoid. Everyone is guilty until proven innocent in their world.”
“We could just take out kneecaps, a thumb or a few fingers. We won’t kill ‘em. We’ve done conflict resolution with cops before.”
“You took out cops?”
“We kill who we get paid to kill, it’s a calling.”
I shake my head, I know they’re in the murder for hire business, but cops are a dangerous way to get paid. Then again, they got rich assassinating drug lords for other drug lords, how much grief can a cop be?
“Nikko will take exception to not being assigned. I’ll talk to Janah, if Nikko goes, you can go with her. This isn’t the kind of thing we like to send Zi on. She doesn’t mind killing Shadows, but torturing abusers is not so much her preference.”
Dasha, “Da, Vesnushki and Zi ees better for Shadow peersons. Sisters good for beating up abuse peerson. We do not anyway feel anything for them.”
Ellen, “Neither would Katya and Katja, hell, half this family would want in, but I got dibs.”
“Maybe, after I talk to Janah, she decides these things.”
“You are Janah.”
“I get that, but we still confab on this kind of stuff, she’s just waking up now. Emma B, take her tea and fill her in.”
We create breakfast, today oatmeal, berries with crème fraiche, toast or English muffin.
“I’m breaking in the grill with burgers for lunch, they’ll get protein then, do we know what dinner will be?”
“Veal marsala, the usual vegetables.”
Dasha, “They will haf chiz and crackers wiz cocktail, also maybe caviar.”
“Good, then no soup or salad necessary.”
The troops troop in, Chloe, “Children up all night?”
“What Grace B said, won’t see them until noon.”
Janah’s talking to Nikko on one end of the table, discussing the cops. Nikko nods, assenting to a potential road trip for a refocusing. We have a couple of days, Surveillance has to follow around the maybe Shadow in Topeka, observe behavior, get video and audio, report back. They don’t know from Shadows, just hired to collect information. They break into homes, set up hidden cams, monitor phone calls, get audio and video of abusers in action. They are not to take anything nor leave any evidence of their presence. If they use the skills to do other work privately, we don’t know, don’t want to know.
For now, it’s a lovely slow day in Malibu. Sloane takes Cassie and Oceane to the beach. Sarah and Mani go along to bodyguard. Not sure where Sarah is going to put her gun considering the size of her bikini, then I see the pen light thing clipped to the string of her suit. It’s also a laser gun, developed by Eloise. Press the button, zap! It won’t kill, it shoots a pulse of light, not a stream, but it will burn a hole in the target about an inch deep, and it will hurt. 
Mani carries one as well, anyone screwing with Oceane or Cass is in for a crappy day. They get laser tagged or Sloane rips off a body part with her wolf teeth.
“Sloane, make sure Oceane understands, she swims, she can play with the fish, no stunts like riding sharks. We don’t need the attention.”
“Got it mom, she’ll be fine, I just have to remind her before she goes in, and a few dozen times while she swims.”
“She’s not that forgetful.”
Sloane grins, “No, once will be enough for a couple of hours, she won’t swim any longer than that.”
“Mom, been to the beach before, we have two swimming pools, I know from sunscreen.”
I laugh, “I don’t get to mommy much, Dasha has eight kids, she gets more mom than I do. My kids are grown.”
“Yeah, you have a sixteen year old trannie and a fourteen year old hottie perfectly in love with herself.”
“Be happy, you both should be in your twenties, but you aren’t and you are.”
“With an eternally twenty five year old mom. Strange days.”
“That was a horrid excuse for a movie.”
Sarah, “Let’s go Sloaney, I want to get back for burgers.”
They take off, it’s nine now, swim to eleven-ish, be good and hungry when they get back. Something tells me Sloane eyeballing Sarah in that not swimsuit will result in a round of after lunch intimacy. If she doesn’t, I know who will.

Thirty Nine

A second day of not much, then this morning Surveillance in Longview sends audio files that tell us what we need to know. There’s no video of abuse inside the house, the women are usually home, no chance for a break in. There is audio of pitched wails that are clearly children.
“I’m sorry daddy, I cain’t do no more, arms won’t hold me up.”
Sound like a belt hitting skin, “Pussy little fucker, gonna whup the pussy right off you,” another whack!
“Your turn Elroy, count ‘em out.”
Sound of a kid counting until he can barely catch a breath, a squeaky girl’s voice, “He done enough daddy.”
“I decide when he’s done enough, you sit and watch your brother become a man. And get me a beer.”
It goes on for another fifteen, more than enough to make the bile rise.
There are zoom photos of the kids, the boys have burn marks on their arms and legs. I don’t have to imagine what’s under the shorts and t-shirts. There is one video of the boys outside. They are being forced to fight each other, the biggest naturally takes control of his opponent, ones in the middle are fairly well matched, one boy is particularly aggressive. When his turn comes around, he bludgeons the biggest kid bloody. The smallest boy’s face is a mess, at the end, he’s on his knees. One of the cops is beating him with a belt. Two ugly women watch from lawn chairs, drink beer and smoke. The two little girls aren’t in the video.
Nikko, “They are going to suffer a long time, all of them. What are you going to do with the kids?”
Janah, “One of the ranches.”
We fund several ranches dotted around the west. Shaolin monks are house parents to abused children. The children get an education, do light work with horses, chickens, small farming. It isn’t forced labor, the kids like it, ranches have a couple of dogs, cats keep varmints from fooling with the vegetable and fruit crops. They go white water rafting, horseback riding, camping. Kids who come with attitude are left alone as long as they aren’t annoying the others. Nobody has to work, but they see the monks and other kids diligently taking care of animals, preparing food, tending to gardens, the kids just start in. When they hit eighteen, we send them to college or trade school, or they can move along and fend for themselves if they wish. Most go to college, the rest take up a trade, a few stay at the ranch and become house parents themselves.
The computer blips, another video file, I decrypt the content, crap.
The video is of one of the women talking the two girls to a cheap motel. Two rooms, one girl in each. A car pulls up, a man hands the woman a wad of cash, he goes in one room, another car fifteen minutes later, second man, same drill, he goes in the other. This repeats five times over the course of a few hours. Woman gets the girls from the rooms, both of them are addled and staggering. She shoves them in the car and drives back to the house.
Nikko, “Everybody dies, Janah.”
“I don’t care what you do to them. We’ll send the recording anonymously when you’re done.”
Ellen, “Nikko, might be better to leave them alive as examples of how painful it is when we catch up to abusers.”
“You have a point, we’ll see.”
Sarah didn’t say anything, that doesn’t bode well for our targets.
I call the private jet service, Nikko, Sarah and Ellen are airborne in under two hours. Transportation arranges a hotel under one of the Society’s shell companies, same for the rental car. Nikko will show a license in another name, Amaya got them suitably disguised. Four deranged souls in Longview have no idea of the vengeance descending from the sky.
Meanwhile, Surveillance in Topeka checks in, message is, ‘strange behavior, observed target taking goods from a convenience store without paying, clerk gave him cash instead…stopped a high school girl on the street, she got into his car and he drove her to a park, video next’
The video file hits, we see Hadley leaving the convenience store, then talking to a teenage girl. She gets in his car, he drives to a park, a big one, there are campsites but nobody camping. He pulls into a secluded stand of trees. That worked for our purposes, Surveillance was able to get close enough to video Hadley, he’s sitting in the driver’s seat, but the driver’s door is open and he’s facing the side. The girl undresses, he takes her clothes and throws them in the car. Girl kneels, unbuckles then unzips him, gives him a blowjob. He’s pointing his phone at the girl. When he’s done, he pushes her down, shuts the car door and drives off. Close up of her bewildered, looking around, spitting, then she throws up.
Surveillance couldn’t out themselves, but they did call 911 and get the kid some help. At least she wouldn’t have to wander around naked trying to get home.
Janah, “We have our Shadow, call for a plane. Ask Katya and Katja if they want to go with us.”
They do, we kill Shadows, they like killing people…well, like isn’t exactly right. Sarah and Mani like killing people, the twins don’t like, don’t dislike, they have no feeling about it at all. For them, it started as a necessity, to get rid of men who were intending to sell them to pervs. Then to make money. They are good at it, they made a lot of money. Ellen does it for the money, Sarah and Mani would do it free, Sarah would kill people just to watch them die. But she also does what she’s told, and Katya won’t let her do randoms. To keep her in line, Mani disciplines her with various S&M toys, including a whip….Crack!
For the abusers in Longview, Transportation found a two bedroom suite at Salome Suites, elbow room and a full kitchen. It’s hotel standard, not upscale, Nikko would stay at a Motel 6, she just wants to get to work.
Over coffee, they discuss the approach.
Nikko, “The women are mostly at home, the kids don’t go to school, homeschooled so they say. I doubt much educating happens. We go in as Texas Child Protective Services, I’m a uniformed officer, you two are field agents, our standard refocusing gear under loose jeans and shirts.”
That means our lobster shell knee guards, titanium vest and polymer fabric gloves with titanium caps over the knuckles and palm heel. The idea is to inflict injury, not get injured doing it. The uniform was left by Transportation, Nikko in front of a mirror adjusting the shirt over her vest.
I mental her, “You look kind of sexy in that uniform.”
“Vests are amazing, lightweight, flexible, hard to imagine they’re bullet proof.”
“Knife proof and laser proof too. Your targets use old fashioned guns, cops like the sound of the gunshot, the laser guns are silent and less intimidating. Until they get fried anyway.”
“It’s stupid, laser guns are far more accurate. Sarah and Ellen are professional assassins, they wouldn’t use anything else.”
“If cops were smart, they wouldn’t be cops.”
“We’re going to knock on doors, I need to get my long coat, can’t go walking out of the hotel in uniform. A coat wouldn’t have occurred to me, Grace B really does think of everything.”

I don’t have to follow in Nikko’s head, all three are wearing cams, tiny ones attached to their shirts, looks like an extra button.
Grace B, “Of course I think of everything, leaving it up to humans has been scientifically proven to be stupid.”
The children don’t need to follow this, those of us interested are in an office on the second floor. It’s just Eloise, both sets of twins, Ellen and me. The others prefer to be occupied in less violent pursuits. Janah decided to play with Sloane while she had the opportunity. While we wait for Nikko to get to the house, I sneak into Janah’s head.
Ooohh, bad girl. I can see Sloane kneeling next to her on the bed. I see the cock, pointing straight and smooth, Janah’s fingers stroking the underside. She knows I’m peeking, she glances down between her legs so I can see her pleasuring herself. Then eyes back to her primary interest. The cock gets closer, Janah’s leaning in, a kiss to the tip, more kisses along the shaft, then a slow lick balls to tip. I hear Sloane murmuring her pleasure. Janah will work that bit for a while, she loves it.
I click out, enough voyeurism for now. Does Janah mind my intrusion? Nope, she likes me watching her have sex, particularly with Sloane. Does Sloane mind? Technically she doesn’t know when I’m in Janah’s head, but Janah tells her, it excites her, teasing me. Sloane is my adopted daughter, doesn’t stop her from wanting to have me do what Janah does, and she knows it gets me squirmy. I’d like to try it, want to try it, so far I’ve resisted for reasons I can’t quite explain. It isn’t like we’re bio related, the word daughter restrains me, and, I blush, turns me on as well. I am my mother's daughter.
I pop out of my reverie, Ellen is grinning at me she leans over and whispers, “I know where Janah is, and I know why you’re biting your lip. You oughta go for it, I did.”
I blink, sheesh, has Sloane done everyone? She must have the stamina of a stud stallion. Which helps me make up my mind, I can remain the exception and keep my shady conscience clear, less opaque anyway.


Nikko and posse wait until one of the women drives off. With all the kids, they must need a daily grocery run for this or that, milk, toilet paper, bread, Twinkies, Slim Jims, it is Texas after all.
Nikko bangs a six cell flashlight on the door. The house is surrounded by nothing, woods on two sides, fronts an empty field on the left.
A chunky woman who looks older than she ought answers.
“What now assholes?”
Clearly Texas Protective has been around before.
“Stand clear, we’re taking the children to state custody until the investigation is complete.”
“Fuck that shit, ever’ time you come around, there ain’t nothin’ goin’ on. I’m callin’ my husbin.”
Nikko turns to Ellen, “Cuff her.”
Chunk resists, small brain error, Ellen grabs the back of her fat neck and slams her face against the wall, yanks her hands behind her and snaps on handcuffs.
Children are staring, a boy, the oldest says, “You gonna finally get us outta here? they done beat little Billy raw t’other day.”
Chunk turns to him yelling, “Better shut it boy, you know what happens when you run your head with lies.”
Sarah, gives her a swift sharp titanium covered knuckle punch to the sternum. Punching her in the gut wouldn’t likely do much damage, there’s a fair amount of protective covering. Sternum is a different matter, Chunk gasps and falls to her knees.
“You goin’ kill me.”
Sarah, “Maybe, depends on whether you shut the fuck up or not.”
A van pulls up.
Nikko, “Kids, get in the van, you will be taken to a safe place and taken care of. You won’t need to take clothes, everything will be provided. No more beatings, no more fights, little girls don’t go to motels. It’s over.”
One girl starts to cry, the other is vacant, sitting on a badly worn couch holding a badly worn doll.
“Boys, help your sisters,” Nikko picks up the smallest boy carefully, his bare back is covered with welts, congealed blood in stripes over broken skin. He winces but says nothing.
“I know it hurts, it’s going to get fixed, you’re a brave kid, I’m proud of you.”
He almost smiles, Nikko’s heart breaks, that’s not a good thing for the parents.
Van goes off, Ellen and Sarah haul Chunk to a bedroom, a messy one.
Sarah, “Jesus, you change the sheets, what…every Christmas?”
Chunk, “You look after all these kids and see how often you do laundry skinny cunt.”
Some people never learn, Sarah breaks her nose, then duct tape around her mouth, clean around her head a couple of wraps. Blood drips over the tape.
They hear the door open, a woman says, “Who’er you, goddamn child shit again. You guys don’t get it, we kin displin’ our kids whichever ways we wanna.”
Nikko, “That include you taking them to motels to fuck a half dozen men each?”
“Bullshit, never happened.”
“I have video showing you parking them in two rooms and a series of men handing you cash before they went in.”
She grins, “They was helpin’ with their lessons.”
Before the smallish wiry woman can mouth off again, Nikko snaps her knee with a front kick, then smashes her titanium covered knee into her ribs. Two squishy cracks as cartilage separates and bones break. Wiry doesn’t get a chance to scream, Nikko uses a titanium covered palm heel to upside her head and Wiry is unconscious as she smashes to the filthy linoleum.
Ellen stands over the woman, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a knee work in that direction before.”
For good measure, she stomps her hard heel boot on the woman’s ankle, the one with the good knee. Wiry is going to be an orthopedic nightmare. They drag her off to the bedroom to join Chunk.
It’s after five, a patrol car pulls up, it’s the hubbies.
They let Officer Asshole get inside, Ellen puts her laser gun to his temple and yanks him to the floor, sticks a knee in his chest, the gun to his forehead.
Patrolman Prick comes flying through the door, propelled by Sarah’s fast kick to his tailbone. Nikko punches him in the throat as he sails by. Ellen has Asshole’s gun, Nikko takes Patrolman’s. They pop the magazine, empty it, click out the cartridge in the chamber and toss the guns. The two cops are handcuffed with their own equipment, then relieved of  belts full of taser, baton, extra ammo and their field radios. Cell phones out of pockets, shoes come off, socks, pants and shirts. Dumb and Dumber are in their skivvies and undershirts.
Sarah, “You fucks ever bathe?”
OA, “You girls in a huge heap of shit.”
Ellen, “Funny, we’re on top of two huge pieces of shit, it’s gonna take me a month to scrape you off my shoes.”
“Texas Child Protective, never seen you before, they usually send fat cunts.”
Nikko, “Stupid ass. We aren’t Texas anything. You’re in for a long evening and a worse morning.”
Lights begin to go on in dim brains, this is not good.
“Hol’ up missy, I don’t know what you been told, but we ain’t done jack to them kids but keep ‘em straight.”
Nikko shows them the video of the fight and the belting of the little boy, then the two girls being sold.
“It’s all over blue boys, you’re over, fatso and the other one are over, they’re resting in one filthy bedroom. We’re going to chat right out here.”
PA, “Just what you plannin’ to do? You got two officers of the law here, you think the cops is just gonna forget?”
Nikko, “We don’t want them to forget, we want them to remember. You two are going to be examples of what happens to sick fuck cop assholes. When we’re done, they won’t want to see us in a thousand years.”
“Now ma’am, you don’t need to do nothin’… we can talk it out. Cut the kids slack, mebbe we was too rough, but we didn’t mean no harm.”
Nikko stares, her blank stare is about as much fun as the sharp side of a razor blade. Speaking of, she takes out a blade, a sharp one, with a serrated edge half way down. Slices his Achilles tendon, then does Officer Asshole.
Over the screams, I hear her, “A matching set, life should balance, be in harmony.”
She turns to Sarah, “Fix the women, we don’t need to be here all night.”
Sarah grins, “Cool.”
She goes off to inflict pain. Lots of it.
Nikko and Ellen duct tape mouths, enough talk, enough screaming, they take one each. An amphetamine injection to keep them from passing out. By the time they’re done, the two cops are a ribbon of slices, three fingers gone off each hand, both thumbs. No big toe, no middle toe. With each major dismemberment, they use the laser to cauterize, no infection, no bleed out. Both elbows and both knees are seriously dislocated. They break both collarbones
For the finale, a testicle-ectomy, laser again, put all the body parts in a garbage bag. Ellen takes them outside, covers the bits with lighter fluid and barbeques the fingers, toes and nuts.
Sarah returns, “They aren’t walking again, and they aren’t talking again, I got a bag of tongues and toes here.”
“Fire in a trash can outside, add a few pieces of wood, there’s dried branches all over the place.”
I get online, “Nikko, you going to leave them wrecked or torch the house?”
“Leave them. I want their cop buddies to get the full picture. A copy of the video and audio will be next to them, Janah’s sending another to the Texas AG and the newspapers.”
“Good enough, then get gone. Your plane leaves at nine tomorrow, clean off the stink, dispose of the clothes, have a glass of wine. The kids are getting checked out, the youngest boy’s back was getting an infection, the pricks made no effort to clean him up.”
“You can see this place, get an infection just standing around. You going to call EMS?”
“Yes, we’ll take it from here, see you tomorrow.”

They split, the car will be swapped when they get to the hotel. Original rental plate stuck back on. Maybe the cops were more observant than they appeared. They won’t be able to give any meaningful description of their assailants, watch caps, black lipstick, fat sunglasses, baggy jeans and shirts a size too large will take care of that.
Showers, bottle of wine, bourbon, pizza. For winding down, it helps that torture makes Sarah hot, she services Nikko first, then Ellen. Then she enjoys a double team, two tongues making sensitive parts tingle.

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