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Caught in the Investigation (Alessa and SolitaryMan)

Pete sat down on the couch and smiled wryly, "Yes maam, you are holdin the gun.." He sat on the edge of the couch and keep his eyes focused on Becca. "You alright there, seems you are a bit nervous," as he watched the Baretta shaking in her right hand, and noticed her having problems gripping the handle. "Yeah I live around here, I'm kinda like the neighborhood watch, people pay me and I make sure they are not bothered. I didn't know you knew the person who lives here, I guess you do, don't you."

Bill heard the "click" that signaled the lock had been picked. He put the pick back in the black pouch and slipped it in the left side jacket pocket. He then turned the knob slowly and opened the kitchen door. After he slipped inside, he closed the door quietly. He then made his way out of the kitchen and into the hallway past the closet where Pete had hid earler. He saw the front door still ajar, the small break in the corner of the window where Becca had used to rock to get at the front door key. He shut the front door quietly. He heard his partner's voice as well as the girl they were supposed to nab. The volume of the conversation, that it was loud, meant they were close. Bill turned towards the living room and peeked around the corner. He saw Pete sitting on the couch and the girl pointing a gun at him.
 
Becca kept her stance wide and body firm and tense, her taut muscles showing under her smooth stomach. "D-don't worry about me," she told the man. "Worry about yourself. Are you a private detective? How can you operate for pay? Do you have a license?"

She was feeling woozy, her head swimming but she fought to stay conscious. Too much was at stake. Too many lives and too many chances for personal fame and glory. She always dreamed of promotion, of getting a little more recognition in a man's world. She lived for respect.

The man had followed her orders, sitting on the couch and keeping his hands up. He hadn't made a threatening move. How long had she been unconscious? Was this the same man who had attacked her, or had he come in after? She could no longer keep the timeline straight as her concussion set in fully. "My.. my sister lives here. Sarah. Sara O'Hare. You know her? She one of your.. your clients?" Her left hand reached out, holding onto a lamp for support as another dizzy spell fell over her. Her pistol lowered as she shook her head, trying to clear it, trying to regain her focus.
 
Pete watched her closely, and knew the hit on the head was more direct than he had thought. He thought about trying to take her himself, but the way she had been shaking that gun in her hand, one false move might mean him getting shot. So he decided to try and keep her talking for a bit longer. "Yeah, im kinda of like one of those PI guys. My license is Smith and Wesson, and yeah I do get paid for it." He listened as she talked about her sister, "Sarah O'Hare, hmmmmm...yeah I do think I remember here," as he glanced over at a picture of her on the coffee table. He started to describe her to Becca. Then out of the corner of his eye he saw Bill peek around the corner from the front door and just kept on talking as if nothing was wrong.

Bill peeked around the corner and winked at Pete as he talked to Becca. Bill watched as she started to have a dizzy spell from Pete hitting her with his blackjack. As her pistol lowered and she grabbed for the lamp, Bill made his move. He came around the corner, slipped up behind her and karate chopped her across the back of her neck with his right hand.
 
Woozy, she tried to listen to the man.. listen as he described her sister accurately. Maybe.. maybe he was the right one, but.. but what if.. she was getting more dizzy, hanging on tightly to the lamppost, when suddenly there was a sharp pain behind her head and her vision flashed white before going dark and she crumpled to the floor, her gun skittering across the floor to land in front of Pete. She had been so out of it, she had never even turned the safety off.

She lay there on the floor, pants now hanging below her hips lewdly, her legs akimbo and arms spread around her hair as it spread out in a halo, her breath coming in shallow, injured gasps as her eyes rolled back into her head, her navel quivering and stretching with each breath, helpless before the two men.
 
Pete got up and put his hands down, the reached down and picked up her gun. He looked at Bill, "Glad you showed up when you did. What does the boss want us to do with her." Bill told him that Whitaker wanted her brought back to the club and put in the room down in the wine cellar. Pete nodded as he got up and slipped her gun back in his trousers waist line. "We can't take her out the front, pull the car up in the driveway, and we'll take her out the back door." Bill nodded and went out the front door of Sarah's house, made sure the front door was shut. He then got in the Mercedes and started the engine, and proceeded to back the four door sedan up into the drive way beside Sarah's house.

Meanwhile, Pete slid his hands into Becca's armpits, and started to drag her out of the living room. After he dragged her down the hallway and into the kitchen, he then lifted her over his left shoulder, and patted her ass playfully, as he noticed her bikini panties had also slid down in the back along with her jeans. He opened the back door, shut the door after he walked out on the back porch, and then turned and went to the open left rear passenger door, that Bill had already opened. He leaned and and let Becca drop off his left shoulder and onto the back seat. After he adjusted her legs to shut the door, Bill shut the passenger door. Then he and Pete got into the sedan and drove off towards the Bird Cage.

After about a 30 minute drive, Pete opened the right rear passenger door as the car was parked behind the club. Bill had the side door propped open and Pete pulled Becca out of the car, noticing that she was still out cold. Putting her back over his left shoulder he carried her into the club and then Bill shut the door and went out to park the car in its usual slot. Pete carried Becca down stairs and then went under the stairwell. He entered the combination to the cyphon lock and saw the door open slightly. Smiling he went in the small room and turned on the light. He let Becca down on the carpeted floor. Then he tied her wrists behind her back and her ankles with two lengths of rope. No gag needed as the room was soundproof. The room itself was empty except for the carpet and a mattress on the floor nearby. Pete then left the room and secured the door.
 
Becca had no idea how long she was unconscious.. as she began to become aware of herself again, her head throbbed with pain and her entire body ached. She must have fallen hard. She opened one eye cautiously and winced at the bright light - she waited a moment before trying again, opening her eyes carefully. She moved to get up but realized her hands and feet were bound. "What the hell?" she asked herself. She rolled on the carpeted floor, trying to get herself upright, but she wasn't able to get the leverage needed. She was stuck on the floor.

"Hey!!" she called out, wincing at the pain the loud noise caused. "Hey!! I'm stuck in here, let me out of here!!! I'm a police officer! You can't bind me like this or hold me! Let me out!!"

She writhed around on the ground some more, her movement only causing her pants and panties to shift further down, working past her butt now and toward her knees, but she couldn't get her hands in a place to fix it. Her breasts were mashed into the floor as she struggled, working up a sweat before finally giving up, exhausted and sore and panting for breath.
 
Some time passed and the sound of the cyphon lock combination being entered could be heard. The door moved slighty ajar and then was opened by the man, Brad Whitaker himself. He walked into the room as Pete stood at the doorway and watched her. He noticed her butt crack showing slightly from her slid down panties, and her jeans well below her hips. He rolled her on her left side and looked down at her, "Special Agent Becca O'Hare, so you're Sarah O'Hare's sister. He dropped a photo of Sarah that he took in the same room her sister was in now. "I suppose you were wondering about her."

He stepped aside, "You've met my pals, Mr. Black and Mr. Blue, they are my neighborhood watch. You sort of look uncomfortable , aren't you? He smirked as he took out a switchblade from his jacket pocket. At the push of a button the blade popped out and glistened in the light. He bent down and moved the flat end of the blade slowly over her breasts and firm nipples through the fabric of her ridden up t-shirt. Then down around her belly button slowly before he used the blade to cut loose the rope binding her wrists and ankles.

He then stepped back as Pet set a plastic container containing a cheeseburger and a bottled water down on the floor. "You must be a bit hungry, eat up and we'll talk some more later." He and Pete backed out of the room and the soundproof door went shut. The door fit right into the wall and nobody knew, except for the cyphon lock that there was a door there at all.
 
She heard a noise and managed to twist around just as a door opened and Whitaker walked through. Whitaker! Had he seen her after all at the club? She thought she had been careful!

He called her by her accurate name and rank, and she glared at him as he stated that she was Sarah's sister. He placed a photo in front of her that was clearly her sister, and she was also bound in the same room that Becca was now in. "You monster!!" she spat at him, but he just ignored her and continued. He teased her about looking uncomfortable as he pulled out a sharp switchblade that danced in the light, making her suck in her breath inspite of herself. He was going to kill her? But why bring her here for that?

He took the blade and moved it over her breasts, her firm nipples poking out in the cold. She trembled at the touch, fear dancing through her body making her stomach and navel dance, and finally he cut the ropes that bound her hands and feet. She wanted to charge, to attack, but she had no feeling in her limbs from where they were tied so tight and she had been on the floor, so all she could do was sit and glare as one of the guy's goons set down a cheeseburger and a bottled water, saying she looked hungry and they would talk later.

She spat at him, but her mouth was dry and nothing came out. In only a moment, he stepped out and closed the door, with the door disappearing behind him.

She curled with her legs crossed in front of her, hands gripping her thighs, and screamed as loud as she could. This was all so insane! So wrong! She had to get out!!!

For over an hour, she managed to resist the smell of the burger, the allure of the cold water. Finally, however, she broke down and crawled over to the plastic container, grabbing the burger with her hands and taking a desperate bite out of it, barely chewing before swallowing and taking another bite. She had no idea how long she had been out, but she was absolutely famished! In between giant bites, she gulped on the water until both were empty. Finally, her stomach and mouth satisfied, she backed up against a wall. She could no longer even remember where the door had been - her inspections had failed to reveal it or any way for her to open it.

"DAMN IT!" she cried out again, her feelings of hopelessness overwhelming her.
 
Later, about mid-afternoon, the combination was put in to the cyphon lock on the door that secured the secret room under the stairs that held the beautiful FBI agent. After the 'click' that signaled the door was unlocked, Bill opened the door about halfway and walked into the room. Pete's partner was in his early 30's, dressed in a navy blue suit coat, matching vest and trousers, black chorfam shoes that glistened in the light from the room, and a light blue buttoned down shirt with matching tie. His coat was unbuttoned. A shoulder holster was worn under the suit jacket and in the holster was a 357 short barrel revolver fully loaded with six shells. Bill also carried a 32 automatic in an ankle holster strapped on the outside of this right ankle. In his inside jacket pocket was his cell phone, and an appointment book. His wallet was in the left rear pocket of his trousers. The keys to the Mercedes as well as a money clip with several mixed denominations of currency were in his front trouser pockets.

He smiled as he looked down at Becca, "I see you liked the burger, anything special you'd like from the kitchen?" He reached down and picked up the empty container and empty water bottle. "You're good, so I hear from my contacts up in Seattle. It wasn't hard to figure out who you were, I just ran your sister's name and we found out you were her sister. That's how Mr. W found out. Only mistake you made was Mr. W hearing your call out in the alley last night. And then he would not have known had he not just decided to go back to the office after talking to the Big Dog. You almost got away with whatever you were trying to do."

Bill sat a full water bottle on the floor for her, "You in this solo, or anybody working with you on this," his eyes scanned her body and admited her curvy hips showing from under slid down jeans, noticed her shirt still rode up and her belly button in a scrunched horizontal oval from sitting against the wall off to Bill's left. "No matter, Mr. W wanted me to check on you and make sure you get well fed from the kitchen." He turned and started to leave the secret room as he walked towards the halfway open door.
 
Hearing the noise at the door, Becca came awake from the light nap she had been taking. Her head felt more clear, her body looser and less tense. Her head still hanging low, she eyed the man from under her long, red hair as he came into the room, watching his ever step. This was the first time she had seen this one, other than the introductions. He was dressed neatly, casually, and wasn't afraid to let his gun show from his holster in his jacket. 'Whatever,' she thought, 'if they wanted me dead I already would be.'

She listened as he asked if she wanted anything from the kitchen and just snarled at him, refusing to give him the benefit of a response. She had decided that silence was the only way to fight back. They obviously wanted information from her, and she wasn't going to give it. She couldn't imagine any other reason where she would still be alive in this room. He talked about her sister, and she couldn't help but tense at the reference. Why did they have her sister? They had her before ever knowing about Becca?

And the bastard had heard her phone call! But it didn't matter.. the message would still get through, surely. Whitaker had resources and powerful friends, but could they be that powerful? Could they intercept the message? She hoped not!!

Placing a full water in front of her, careful to keep out of her reach, he eyed her carefully as he asked if she was in this solo. A dark glare was the only response he got. He didn't seem surprised that she didn't respond, stating that he was just there to check on her and make sure she got well fed.

The second he turned and walked away, she launched herself at him silently, her hair flying behind her in thick curls as her eyes flashed with determination and anger. They didn't want to kill her, which gave her the advantage. Her entire body tensed, stomach and legs tight, as she leapt forward. Her feet had been tucked beneath her in such a way to allow such quick movement without hesitation. She swung an elbow around to connect with the back of his head as her sneaker kicked his knee out from under him, designed to send him buckling to the floor.
 
As Bill nearly reached the door, he was caught off guard by how fast and catlike the beautiful red haired prisoner moved. He felt the elbow across the back of his head and moaned as he quickly hit the carpeted floor, helped by the kick to his knee. He went face down and stunned by the hit to the back of his head. Not moving and his eyes closed but not totally out, his body moved as if to try and get up from the floor as he tried to regain full consciousness, and shook his head to try and clear the cobwebs from the hit to his head by her elbow. His gun was still in his shoulder holster and he was too stunned at the moment to even start to try and retrieve it.

The wine cellar otherwise was empty and nobody else downstairs. There were pallets with boxes of liquor on them in neat rows as well as the wooden wine bottle shelves, all of the holders containing a bottle of wine, of different varieties. They were lined up neatly in rows going back to the far wall. The ceiling lights were spaced evenly and were turned on since Bill had come down the stairs from the top floor. the cellar door was open and the sound of music from the club's main area echoed down into the cellar.
 
Becca had to move quickly - she doubted the big man would be out long. She grabbed the 357 from its holster, checking to ensure it was loaded before leaning down to check the man's pants, finding the keys and roll of money there. It was more than enough to get away! She didn't have time to do a thorough search, and missed the cell phone which certainly would have helped. Gun in her right hand ready to be used, she sprang forward and scanned the cellar, looking for a means of escape. Not seeing a door to the outside, she spotted the stairs and heard the club music.

"The club! That's where he took me, the bastard!" she thought to herself. She considered dragging the man on the floor into the room she had been trapped in, but couldn't spare the time. She launched herself up the stairs, scanning both sides of the room as she focused on moving closer to the loud music. If she could just get to the main floor of the club, get herself surrounded by people, she could get out of here and summon backup!
 
The Bird Cage was now open for business. The first few hours until after say 7 p.m. was slow, mostly the regulars from town and people or students who may have gotten off work or class early, or were on their way home. The 80's sound of the Pet Shop Boys, "Always on my Mind," echoed back the hallway. Whitaker was in his office going over some paperwork, and Pete was in the club office sipping on a milkshake and talking to the duty manager. The side door that Bill and Pete brought her in was in the same hallway and adjacent to the entrance to the cellar. EMPLOYEES ONLY sign hung over the doorway to the cellar.

Down in the cellar, Bill groaned as he started to clear the cobwebs from his head. His right hand rubbed the back of his head as he was up on his knees. He got up and looked around, not seeing Becca, as he was about half way in and out of the secret room. He started to pat himself and found his gun, money and keys were gone. He gritted his teeth, "Damn, she's good, quick too," he muttered to himself as he started for the stairway leading out of the cellar, still a little gimpy as he was still regaining full consciousness.
 
She couldn't help but smirk at the "EMPLOYEES ONLY" sign. I guess this meant she had a new job, she thought with an angry grin. The music was much clearer to hear at the top of the stairs, and she knew she had to get to the floor of the club or it was all over. So close to go for freedom!

Becca moved quickly but carefully down the hallway, following the siren call of the music as she tried to navigate the club. She'd not had a chance to explore everything last night, being in a hurry to get in and out, and regretted it now - but how could she have known this would have happened?

Cursing to herself, she pulled her pants back up over her belly button, their baggy weight constantly pulling them down low on her hips again, as she held the gun in a tight grip in front of her, scanning for her next stage of her escape. Directly in front of her, she saw a door that looked solid and might lead to the outside. Cheering quietly in victory, she stepped forward and kicked the door open with a foot, gun scanning the room.

And then the fire alarm set to the door triggered. The goons might have known to shut it off before bringing her in, but Becca didn't. Cursing, she dashed out of the door, only to find herself in a gated - and closed - parking lot with several cars parked in it. Damn - employee parking!! But which car did the goon's key open?? The alarm blared loudly behind her and she knew she had only moments. She picked the Porsche, fumbling with the unfamiliar key ring.. she guessed wrong.
 
Whitaker was putting some of the paperwork back in the hutch when heard the fire alarm go off over the music. He shut the drawer quickly and then came out of his office and down the hallway. He knew the sound was the fire alarm and that a door was opened somewhere. He headed out into the main area to check around, and told the bartender to call the fire department and tell them its a false alarm. The bartender nodded as Whitaker looked around the main area of the club.

As Pete came out of the main office, he saw Bill come up the stairs from the cellar, "She's loose, jumped me and got out of the room." Pete smirked and popped Bill on his right shoulder, "We gotta find her, and watched Bill get out his spare 32, as he knew she had his 357. Bill glanced around and saw the side door slightly ajar, "She went out here," and went through the door and out into the parking lot. Pete followed him and shut the side door secure. He motioned to Bill as they started to spread out in the parking lot.
 
Out in the parking lot, Becca fumbled with the keys, trying to unlock the door to the Porsche, but she was beginning to realize she had picked the wrong car. Whirling, her hair spilling fluidly behind her, she looked for another car to try as she saw the two goons coming out of the club's door, closing it behind them and trapping her in the parking lot. "Shit," she muttered, not normally one for cussing. Cocking the gun, she huddled behind the tire of the car, her body tense and ready, her stomach and navel crunched from her position.

Her breath coming in fast gasps, she prepared herself and peeked over the hood of the car, seeing the two circle the lot. Sucking in a breath, she held if a moment and fired off a warning shot, hitting the concrete just behind Bill's shoulder. "I'm police!" she called out. "There's no use resisting. Surrender immediately! You're under arrest!"
 
Bill heard the sound of the gun, and knew it was his 357..he ducked down behind one of the Mercedes sedans as he saw the dust fly from the bullet hitting the concrete wall of the club behind him. His adrenalin kicked in and he rose to fire his 32 caliber pistol, after he heard Becca's voice, but didn't see anyone. "Hey, you are good, bet you were a marksman on the pistol range." Pete saw a small, but large enough rock near him. He picked it up and tossed it off to his left and heard it hit off one of the car's hoods. Then he waited to see what happened as he held his 32 caliber pistol at the ready.

Pete had moved off to the right after he came out of the side door, and had drew his 9mm out from under his jacket. He took the safety off and was moving along a line of the cars, and then ducked down when he heard the shot from Bill's 357. He peekd up from his position and glanced around but wasn't able to figure out where their escaped guest was. Pete decided to try and move further out and try to figure out where she was before he made any more moves. Both men avoided shooting so as not to cause any passers by to report the shots to the police.
 
She heard the man compliment her and smirked. She did alright, but there were better shots on the force. She called out, "Good enough to take two idiot goons down." Her heart was pounding in her chest. Such small mistakes had led to such big problems! She was lucky that they hadn't kept her bound, or she never would have made it this far! This was her chance, and she had to make the most of it.

Keeping her hearing attuned, the picked up the sound of the rock bouncing off of the car's hood, thinking it was a clumsy thug hitting the car. She stood up, braced for a shot, her finger on the trigger... but there was no one there. Instead, she heard two other sounds - one behind her and the other to one side. The sound of a cocking gun and the heavy breathing of the two men. Without saying a word, she dropped her borrowed gun to the ground, having no choice to surrender. She had fallen for the oldest trick in the book.
 
Pete had reached the fence at the back end of the lot. Staying low, he crept up the fence line and stopped about half way up. He looked over towards where Bill was positioned and then started to judge the trajectory of the bullet that was fired from his 357. He spotted the Porche parked along his path up the fence line. He guessed that was where Becca fired that shot from, the vicinity of where the Porche was parked. Pete was in the right position when Bill tossed the rock. He saw Becca stand up and get ready to shoot, and by the time he moved quickly and was behind her, and cocked the 9 mm, "Drop it now..,and then, "Got her Bill," as he kept her covered as Bill came out and over beside Pete.

"Hands up hot stuff, " as he watched Becca raise her hands, her t-shirt rode high up off her baggy pants. Bill put his 32 in his pants waistline as he retreived his 357 and put it back in his shoulder holster. He then patted down Becca and found the keys to the Mercedes sedan and his money clip. He put them both into his front trouser pockets and then backed away from her. As he did Bill's cell phone rang, it was Whitaker, and Bill answered it, nodding his head, "Yeah Mr W we got her, nodding a couple times, "understood," and then hung up. Pete looked at Bill, "What's Mr W's instructions?" Bill put the phone away, "We go for a ride, just in case somebody heard that shot." Pete nodded, "Follow the leader, hot stuff," as he poked her back softly with his 9 mm, and Bill walked towards the Mercedes sedan that the keys fit.

Bill unlocked the front driver's side door and then the other doors after he got in, along the way he opened the left rear passenger door as Pete approached with their prisoner. "Get in," as Pete watched Becca lean to get in. As she did he slipped his gun in the waistline of his trousers, took out a ziploc bag with a hankie laced with chloroform, and put it firmly over her nose and mouth with his right hand.
 
When she was told to put her hands up, she did so quickly, raising them high into the air to show she was no longer a threat. He patted her down, finding the keys and clip, and she cursed to herself. So much for that chance. Still, she was conscious and a good fighter, so she still had a chance. If she could move, she could fight. If she could fight, she might win.

A phone rang and one of the thugs answered it. She tried to follow the conversation, but he didn't say much, only confirming it was a call from Mr. W.. she easily figured out that was the bastard Whitaker.

One asked the other what the instructions were, and she listened as they talked about going for a ride. When they poked the gun in her back, she muttered, "All right, all right, no need to get pushy," as they moved to the Mercedes. Ah, the Mercedes! she thought. I should have gone for the Mercedes!! But it was too late now. The doors were unlocked and they gestured for her to enter. She smiled a snide smile, thinking that in a car she had more than a fair chance at getting free again. Thinking of her near freedom, she leaned into the car and breathed in a sickly sweet smell, her eyes rolling back into her head, and she crumpled into the backseat unconscious, the crack of her rear showing above the sagging pants as she once again lost her consciousness.
 
Pete watched her sljmp into the back seat, and admired her butt crack showing from her slid down jeans. As Bill waited behind the wheel, Pete adjusted Becca's legs, bent them to put them inside the open left rear passenger door, and then shut the door. He did not bother to tie her up, as they were taking her directly to where Whitaker had told Bill over the phone. Pete got into the front passenger seat, and shut the door. Bill turned the key in the ignition, started up the car, and then backed out of the parking space. As he approached the employee parking gate, he pushed a button a remote attached the driver's visor. The gate opened as he approached, and then closed after he had driven through.

He turned left onto Beachside Drive and headed along the strip of shops, the beach still somewhat crowded along the way with sunbathers and people trying their luck riding the surf. The beach crowd thinned out as they went further along Beachside drive, vehicles parked along the road or in parking lots along the way.

As Bill drove around he looked over to his left and saw the masts of the sailboats berthed in the marina getting larger and larger as they apporached. Not only were sailboats berthed there, but also privately owned cabin cruises and yachts. Further down from the marina was the berthing docks of the fishing fleet. In this case, Bill had been instructed to take their passenger from the Bird Cage out to the marina, in particular, to Berth 67, a secluded berth on the far side of the marina, and home to the ocean going cabin cruiser, the Raven.
 
Becca never came to as they drove her to the docks. She had been hit too many times, too exhausted to recover quickly. She lay helplessly and unaware as the car drove her to her new fate, and to a place that would be far harder to escape from.

At one point, as the car turned into the marina, her body shifted and she fell from the seat onto the floorboard below, her hair spilling down around her shoulders, her navel just visible above the jeans of her pants as the car jostled her body with each bump of the road.
 
Pete looked around the marina as Bill drove through the area at posted speed. They reached the bumpy and undeveloped part of the road. The marina management had wanted to pave it back to Pier 67, but since Whitaker sat on the board of directors, he always made sure it was not done, as it was a deterrant to people going back that direction. Bill came to a gate at the end of the bumpy road. It had an sign bolted on it, "NO TRESPASSING. TRESPASSERS WILL BE EATEN." Pete laughed as he looked back and saw Becca had fell off the seat from the bumpy ride. "Boss sure loved when the Big Dog put that up, he got that at an alligator farm in Louisiana."

Pete got out of the car and walked over to the gate, unlocked it with a key on his key ring and moved the gate open so Bill could drive through. He got back in the car after he closed the gate again, leaving it unlocked, and looked around as Bill drove down into a cleariing surrounded by trees which was beside a cove and dock for the Raven. There was a small house there that served as a storage room for tools and other equipment. The dock where the Raven was berthed was empty.

"The Raven is not here, guess the Big Dog has her out on a run. We'll stash her in the storehouse for now." Bill nodded and backed the car up to the storehouse. Pete got out and opened the right rear passenger door as Bill unlocked the storehouse door. He held it open as Pete slid Becca out of the back of the car and then dragged her into the storehouse. He then tied her to the center post, her wrists behind the post and then her ankles together. He tied them not too tight to cut off circulation. He then took out a bandana and inserted it in her mouth and then tied it off behind her head. Then Bill shut the storehouse door, and locked it. He and Pete then got back into the car and headed back to the Bird Cage.
 
Becca was hauled roughly out of the car and dragged into the storehouse, her sneakers digging deep grooves into the dirt as they hauled her unconscious form.

Once in the storage room, she was tied securely to a post, her hands bound behind it and her ankles tight together. A bandana was pressed into her mouth and tied off, keeping her mouth open and helpless to call out more than muffles. The men did their job well, and then closed the storeroom and locked it, leaving her behind.

She just barely head the rumble of the departing car as she came awake once again. Her head swam and pounded from the chloroform, and she immediately noticed she was bound.. they weren't taking any chances with her this time, leaving her bound in place. She groaned, her jaw already sore from the now spit-soaked bandana.

"Damn it!" she tried to exclaim, but it came out all wrong. She kicked her bound ankles in the dirt and jerked on the pole, trying to see if it would come loose, but it was a solid post, refusing to budge, and the ropes were tight. Sinking down to the ground, she couldn't help the tears that escaped to drip down her cheeks, meeting the drool that ran from her mouth, and all she could do was wait for her fate.
 
Bill and Pete arrived back at the Bird Cage and parked the Mercedes in the employee parking lot. The club was already active as they walked back in via the front entrance. Bill went back to the club office and started to work. He helped balance and get the tills ready for the cash registers. Pete went into Whitaker's office and told him that she had been delivered to Berth 67 and put in the storehouse, as the Raven wasn't there. Whitaker nodded, "You did good Pete, get yourself something to eat."

Back at Pier 67, it was turning from daylight to twilight as some of the pole lights around the complex started to turn on. The Raven was coming in to its berth after a trip down the coast. It's pilot guided the craft into the cove slowly and then shut down the engines to let the craft coast along the dock. A couple of the crew jumped off onto the dock and secured the bow and stern lines. The pilot secured the wheelhouse and then went below to report to Garth that the Raven was secure. Garth came out on deck. He was dressed casually, in a black golf shirt brown pants as well as expensive shoes and matchnig suit coat. He had medium length brown hair and blue eyes. He looked over at one of the crewman, "Check the storehouse, Whitaker said there was someone going to be put there." The crewman nodded and walked over to to the storehouse. He unlocked the door and looked in, "She's here Mr. Garth," and walked back to the small gangplank that was put in place to come off the boat. Garth came off as well as his bodyguard Cito, and walked over to the storehouse, and looked in. Garth smiled as did Cito, "Damn nice for a federal agent boss," Cito smiled wryly.
 
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