SLAVES OF HOLLYWOOD 2 (8 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE – TWO DAYS TO CAPTURE

Agent Kelly was still fuming by the time Fanelli dropped her at the hotel. The new room a carefully obsequious manager led her to didn’t make her feel any better—even when he showed her the huge new bed with a soft, un-used feather-top mattress that he had reserved just for her.

She dismissed him without a word and, as soon as the door closed behind him, pulled out her notes, ready to start a last-ditch search for anything she might have missed.

The Hollywood Reporter ad was a bust—as was the hall rental. What was left? What could she use to track down the men who had made that terrible film?

She stuck her copy of the DVD into her laptop and ran through it again. The school bus they had used was no help. At no point could you see the license plates—and the general layout and design of the vehicle was identical to tens of thousands of similar buses scattered throughout the state.

She scanned through the capture sequence, bit her lip as she forced herself to watch the first series of whippings—
horrible
—than went to slow motion and carefully scanned the scene as the ‘action’ moved outside.
That farmhouse is too new to be registered in any historic database
—she had looked into that early on—
and there’re no landmarks anywhere in sight. Nothing but those mountains in the distance…

Those mountains…

Analysis by the FBI lab had indicated that the mountains were the Santa Anna’s—they couldn’t tell her where in the mountains the house was located.
But maybe they didn’t look at it in the right way…
She studied the screen as the film moved on, noted the sun’s position over those same mountains.
If we used the shadows to figure out compass points, then matched the silhouette of the mountains with those points…

She picked up the laptop and headed for the door.
I think this might work!

Kelly tried to call Fanelli—with no luck--his cell phone went right to message, telling her he had switched it off. She then called the LA office, hoping they’d know where to reach him—but the night officer told her that her temporary partner had logged out for the day without leaving a number where he could be reached—had she tried his cell phone?

Agent Kelly told the man she had—then had to content herself with leaving a message. Finished, she sat back on the very soft bed and wondered if she should try to get some sleep and follow the idea up in the morning.

No!
She shook her head at the thought.
I don’t have that much time to waste!
She called the front desk, curtly ordered a rental car—picked up her carryall and gun--and headed out the door.
I’m going to solve this thing—no matter what it costs!

The desk told her that the nearest large University was UCLA Westwood. When her car arrived, she worked her way up the still-busy freeway until she found the proper exit, then drove straight to the Earth and Space Science building. As it was after hours, the place was deserted--but the students wandering around the campus directed her to the provost’s office and that worthy sent her to the home of the Dean of Earth and Space Science who, she was informed, lived in a modest home right at the edge of the campus.

Professor Gonda was just finishing his dinner when Kelly rang the bell—and was more than happy to assist the FBI in an important investigation. Kelly opened her desktop and explained the importance of the film as she ran off him carefully-selected clips. He blanched at the amount of naked female flesh on display, but quickly assured her that he could calculate an approximate location using the sun and shadow—and with that approximation, easily find the farmhouse using ground terrain features.

She drove him back to the main campus and waited in his office while he triangulated the data she had given him. His computer program gave him the basic information he needed and, with that data in hand, he told her, a second program would determine the exact location of the site in the film.

He was almost right—the second program
did
give them a location—actually, it gave them nearly fifty—all within a twenty-mile circle—which meant thousands of square acres of ground to cover.

The professor and Kelly then sat down with maps and Google Earth to go over the entire area in question. Four hours later, shortly after midnight, they agreed on one possibility—and a quick look at Google Earth’s image showed them a farmhouse right in the position they had decided was correct.

Agent Kelly now knew where the film had been made.

She turned away and left the Professor standing in his office, then drove the rental car back to her hotel—the property office for Santa Anna County wouldn’t be open for several hours—just enough time for her to get some much-needed sleep.

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

Mike took his time fucking Kelly’s ass. For one thing, it was tight and virginal—making it quite pleasant—for another, her groans, moans, and cries told him that she was really suffering—which was always part of the plan when you were breaking a new slave.

Finally, though, his orgasm ripped through him and he filled her with his cum, his hands holding her breasts tight, giving him the leverage he needed. “That was fun,” he said patting her on the cheek. “And you did keep your promise—however, you also spoke without permission.” He pulled out and shook himself off. “And that little transgression will earn you a punishment.” He went to the side of the room, washed himself at the sink placed there for just that purpose, and pulled his pants back on.

Kelly, of course, was right where he had left her—spread-eagled and helpless, suspended in the center of the room. “But before I decide on the punishment…” He picked up the hose again—aimed it at her. “I think I’d better wash you off.” The freezing water washed over her again—and this time it forced a shriek of shock out of the hanging girl—a shriek she quickly—but not instantly—choked off.

“That earns you a second punishment.” He walked the hose around her, paying particular attention to her no-longer-virgin butt, cleaning off every remnant of his recent entry. He pulled her ass cheek back, directed the water inside her. “Want to go for three?”

Kelly’s whole body trembled with fear as he finished scrubbing her down—a trembling that became a shiver as he dried her off.

“Okay.” Finally finished, he gave her a quick inspection—the wound on her nipple was closing now that he had removed the badge—he’d have to do something about that,
maybe as part of her punishment
—but that would wait.

She continued to shiver as he released the chains attached to her ankles. He allowed her to put her feet flat on the floor, taking the strain off her wrists and shoulders. Then he released the wrist cuffs, pulling her arms behind her again and quickly cuffing them in place. He then put a hobble chain between the cuffs that were now locked on her ankles—and pulled a new gag out of his pocket.

“This is called a ring gag,” he told her, touching the metal ring to her lips. “It will hold your mouth open without blocking it.” He took one of the straps in each hand—pulled the ring against her lips. “Open wide, now.”

Kelly, still filled with fear of her upcoming punishment, did as she was told. The ring hung up on her teeth for a moment, but Mike was able to manipulate it a bit until it slid into place and he pulled the straps tight and buckled them. “That’s good.”

For the first time, he put a collar around Kelly’s neck—and attached a leash to the collar.

“The collar indicates you’re a slave.” He smiled as she shifted her shoulders a bit, appraising the weight of the thing on her neck. “The leash makes it easier for me to lead you around.” He leaned closer. “Would you like me to remove your blindfold?”

She shook her head quickly up and down. Megan Kelly had been sunk in darkness for days, now light—any light—would be a Godsend.

“All right, hold still…” Mike reached around her and unbuckled the straps holding the blindfold in place. “Keep your eyes closed while I remove this…” He pulled the padded leather blinders off her eyes, made sure to brush the hair out from under them. “Okay—you can look now—but be careful—it’s pretty bright in here,” he ran his hand over her breast. “And no one wants a blind slave!”

He watched as Kelly’s eyes opened slightly, squinting against the light in the room. He watched as they darted from side to side, taking note of everything around her—then locked on his face.

“Green eyes.” He smiled at her. “That’s nice.” He took a step back, held up the end of the leash that led to her collar. “You’re going to follow me now—stay back about a step and a half—and don’t let the leash go taut—if it does, I’ll punish you.” He locked gazes with her. “Understand?”

Gagged again, Kelly just nodded—there was nothing else she could do.

“Okay—this way.” Mike turned and headed for the door. Kelly began to follow—then stumbled as the hobble chain that linked her ankles came tight. She regained her balance—but not before the leash went taut.

“That’s three punishments.” Mike continued out the door. “Keep up or we’ll go for four.”

Agent Megan Kelly whined with the fear of more pain—and hobbled along behind her master—making sure to be exactly where he wanted her, a step and a half behind, the leash slack.

She was learning what it meant to be a slave.

CHAPTER TWE
NTY FIVE – ONE DAY TO CAPTURE

Kelly was already in the hotel lobby when Agent Fanelli drove up the next morning. “You’re late!” She told him, pulling the car door open. “And I’ve got a lead that we need to track down!”

“That wouldn’t be the lead you got by pulling a senior Professor at UCLA away from his dinner, would it?” Fanelli’s tone was flat, distant. “Because if it is, it’s the one which caused him to complain to the Dean of the University that a crazy FBI agent turned up and showed him a dirty movie—then pushed him to work out the co-ordinates for a building that appeared in it—even though that took hours of his free time.” He turned toward her, eyes hard. “When he was finally finished, he told the Dean, that agent just drove away without thanks or explanation.” He shook his head sadly.

“Upon hearing all that, the Dean of the University called his old classmate, the Federal Attorney for Los Angeles County, who called Agent Ellis—who’s had
me
on the carpet for the last hour!” He faced back toward the road, slammed the car into gear. “Was that the lead you wanted me to help you track down?”

Kelly was taken aback by his vehemence—
I didn’t do anything wrong! I followed procedure, went to an expert…
She shook her head, baffled.
How was I supposed to handle it?
She reached into her carryall, pulled out the map that she had worked out the night before.

“Look,” she told him. “I’m sorry if Ellis gave you a hard time—I’ll try to square it with him when I get back to D.C. In the meantime…”

“There is no meantime—and there’s no squaring when you’re safely back in D.C.” Fanelli took a hard right onto the 101 Freeway. “Ellis wants to see you today—now—and I’m not about to disobey that order!”

“But my lead!”

“Listen,” Fanelli accelerated up to speed. “I don’t give a flying squat about your lead—not now. You really don’t give a damn about anyone else, do you? All you care about is that your own case moves forward and your own career stays on track.” He slammed a hand down on his horn, accelerated past a van-load of tourists. “People like you make me sick!”

Kelly was shocked by Fanelli’s tone—after all, she was senior to him—the agent in charge—he had no right to talk to her like that!

She was still simmering when he pulled up in front of the LA office—and that simmer carried over all the way to Ellis’ office.

Where he promptly fanned the fire.

“What the hell were you thinking, Agent Kelly!” He slammed down a stack of papers on his desk. “I’ve got half a dozen complaints about you right here—and you’ve been here for less than a week!”

“Agent Ellis, let me remind you…”

“You don’t get to remind me of a damn thing!” He leaned forward, eyes locked on the face of the woman sitting across from him. “You were sent here to set up a taskforce—not to piss off anybody and everybody you came into contact with. First Harry Winston, then Professor Cromarty—hell, even the manager at your hotel is complaining about the way you treat people!”

“The Deputy Director…”

“Ms. Blanchette and I had a very nice talk early this morning.” Ellis eyes stayed rock hard, fixed on Kelly’s face. “She informed me that you had already had a warning about offending anyone out here.” He suddenly smiled. “She also told me that your taskforce has been cancelled—and you’re to go home tomorrow.”

“She told me I had three days!”

“Tomorrow, Agent Kelly.” Ellis picked up the pile of papers in front of them and carefully tapped them into a neat stack. “Fanelli will drive you back to your hotel where you will get your notes—all your notes—neatly together. You will give those notes to Agent Fanelli for further investigation—if warranted. He will then take you to LAX and see that you get aboard the 3PM flight to Dulles.” He sat back, the papers rigidly held in his rather large hands. “Is that clear?”

“But I have a lead! I know where the farmhouse in the film is! I can find out who owns it and that will tell me…”

“It will tell you nothing! It
might
give Fanelli a place for him to pick up the investigation.” He motioned toward the door. “Now get out of here.” He turned back to the other papers on his desk. “And I hope I never have to deal with you again!”

Kelly leaned forward, ready to argue, ready to fight—but she suddenly realized that it was hopeless. Without Blanchette’s backing, there was no way she’d get the Senior Agent to do what she wanted.
Only one thing I can do.
She stood up, careful not to slam the chair against the wall or otherwise show her anger as she silently left the office, gently closing the door behind her.
And when I do it, I’ll shove the damned proof down his throat!

She was silent while Fanelli drove her back to the hotel and nodded politely when he told her what time he would meet her the next day. She watched him drive off—then headed for the hotel parking lot and the rental car that was still sitting there. She had all day—and the Santa Anna Mountains were not all that far away.