Warning: This story includes as an on-going sub-plot an incestuous homosexual relationship between Frank and Joe Hardy. This chapter contains strong sexual content and suggestive language.
-o-o-o-
Chapter 6: Smugglers
"I can't believe Dad's shacked up with some chick," Joe said. "I thought he was still carrying a torch for Mom."
"Apparently, he got over her." Frank pulled Joe's t-shirt off over his head. "It has been a few years since the divorce and the AA meetings have really helped his self-esteem."
"True." Joe put his arms around Frank's neck. "Do you want to do it in the shower or in bed? I feel kind of grubby after climbing around on that window ledge installing that camera. I think every pigeon in River Heights pooped on that ledge."
Frank laughed. "Both." He put his arms around Joe's waist and kissed him. "Committing criminal acts always gets me horny."
"Man, if I'd known that, I would have taken you out shoplifting a long time ago."
"You're getting very naughty, young man."
"Oh yeah?" Joe licked Frank's neck and nibbled his earlobe. "Let's get in the shower and I'll show you how naughty I can be."
Frank groaned. "You clearly need a hard spanking."
Joe slipped a hand down and rubbed the front of Frank's trousers. "It feels like you have just the tool to do it."
"If you keep rubbing that, we are not going to make it to the shower."
Joe pushed Frank away with a laugh and dashed out of the bedroom. "Last one naked and wet is a rotten egg!"
"Wretch!" Frank raced after him.
Once they were in the shower, Frank lifted Joe up against the wall. "This is why I like you skinny," he said. Joe wrapped his arms and legs around Frank and Frank shoved himself in with a firm thrust.
"Ah!" Joe gasped. "That feels fantastic!"
Frank just groaned in response and pounded himself into Joe eagerly.
Later on in bed, Joe looked at his fingers and made a pouty face. "I think we should have saved that last one in the shower for bed. My fingers are all pruned up."
"I told you not to bend over to pick up the soap," Frank replied. "I was already hard and you presented me with a perfect view of your delightful bottom. What was I supposed to do?"
"Ram it up my ass until I'm spraying like the showerhead?"
"Damn right."
Joe laughed softly and snuggled up against Frank's side. "So are you tired now?"
"I just need to rest for a minute." Frank rubbed a hand thoughtfully up and down Joe's arm. "We should check the Marina camera in the morning and see if the 'Pretty Boy' is back. That guy at the gas station said the boat usually fills up right before a long trip and then is gone for three or four days, and you said that fisherman told you the boat left three days ago."
Joe nodded. "He said they always leave at night and come back at night. That is so damn suspicious."
"No kidding." Frank rolled over on top of Joe and pushed his legs apart. "We may as well check the warehouse camera, too. I don't really expect anything, but it can't hurt to look."
Joe moaned as Frank penetrated him. He lifted his hips. "Take your time, ok? We haven't held each other like this for a while."
"I know. I guess we just got used to rushing when we always had to worry about Dad walking in on us."
Joe giggled. "Do you suppose he's doing the same thing right now, now that he's got a girlfriend?"
"I'm not sure I want the image of Dad getting laid in my head."
"It is kind of scary." Joe closed his eyes. "I think I'll just concentrate on how good you feel right now."
"I can relate to that."
-o-o-o-
Frank leaned over Joe's shoulder and looked at the image in the Marina camera's playback window. "I'm still amazed how clear that picture is. Why don't you fast forward?"
Joe clicked the fast forward button and the image sped up. People scampered in and out of the picture, going to other slips, and two boats pulled in and tied up. Neither was the 'Pretty Boy'. As the image dimmed into night, Joe boasted the image contrast. "Not bad, huh? The cameras adjust automatically to changes in the light."
"Pretty cool. Hey, is that it?"
Joe quickly clicked the play button. "Yeah, I think so." They watched as a large yacht pulled up to the dock and two men leaped off to tie it up. "I can't see the name, but it's in the 'Pretty Boy's berth and it's the right size."
Another man came out on deck and leaned over the side, apparently issuing orders to the other two. Frank leaned closer. "Can you enlarge that?"
"Just a sec." Joe manipulated the controls and the image zoomed in on the man's face. "It's Walter Surrey."
"I thought so."
Joe zoomed back just in time to see one of the two men on the dock jog away. "Where do you suppose he's going?"
"Dunno." Frank continued to stare at the screen as the other man climbed back onto the boat and disappeared inside with Walter Surrey. A moment later, both men reappeared, followed by a dozen or so teenage boys. "Who the hell are they?"
"You got me." Joe zoomed in on some of the boys faces. "They look really young. That kid can't be more than twelve."
"Yeah," Frank agreed. "That kid there might be fifteen or sixteen, but that's pushing it." He straightened up with a frown. "They could be mules. Smugglers will sometimes hide drugs inside people's bodies, usually in the vaginal or rectal cavity where it can be retrieved fairly easily but won't be found in a pat-down."
Joe nodded. "That makes sense. If the Coast Guard stopped them, they could say it was a charity outing for inner city kids or something like that. Then they use the kids to move the drugs or whatever to the different cities for distribution." The men and boys moved out of the camera's field of view and Joe stopped the playback.
"What time is it?" Frank tapped the screen. "We should check the warehouse camera starting about half an hour after then and see if they show up there."
Joe pointed at the small timestamp in the lower right hand corner of the image. "It's about 12:30am." He opened up another playback window and brought up the previous night's file for the other camera. "There's a function that will let me start the playback at 12:30. One second." He opened another small dialog and typed in the time. "Here we go. I'll fast forward until we see something."
The second image began to play, showing the empty alley, the shipping dock and the warehouse door. Then a van turned into the alley and stopped in front of the door. Joe clicked the play button. They got a good view of Walter Surrey's face as he exited the passenger door of the van. The driver remained hidden as he walked down the far side of the van to the back. The steps leading up to the warehouse door were hidden by the van, but Frank and Joe could see the doorway over the top of it. They watched as Walter Surrey unlocked the door and led the way inside. Joe resumed the fast forward, but nothing changed. The van remained parked outside and no one came back out. The playback stopped when it reached the current time and Joe sat back.
"Well," Joe said. "What do you think?"
"I think now it's time to go search that warehouse."
"You sure?"
"Yeah, I'm sure. We don't have anything to take to the cops right now. We need proof. We have to get into that warehouse and find out what they're smuggling. Samples would be good, because they'll act on that." He smiled grimly at Joe. "We can hardly turn over the results of our illegal surveillance, but we can say we were looking for Nancy and stumbled across the stuff."
Joe nodded. "Right. We'll need tools if we're going to do a little B&E."
Frank put a hand over his face. "Don't tell me you know where to buy burglar tools for breaking and entering?"
Joe grinned. "Don't need to buy anything. I already have it." He laughed at Frank's slightly shocked look. "A fellow has to have hobbies and I got bored that summer you were working for Dad."
"I think we need to sit down and have a very long talk."
"Sure, as long as I get to sit in your lap."
"Joe…"
Joe laughed as he turned his attention back to the computer. "We better keep an eye on this. If we're going back there tonight, we'll need to know who's inside."
"You're changing the subject."
"Yup."
Around midday, a car came and picked up Walter Surrey, but there was no other visible activity after that.
"Breaking in unnoticed is going to be tough with all those people in there," Frank muttered.
"But I think the door might still be unlocked," Joe said. "Surrey didn't lock it when he came out."
"Someone could have locked it from the inside."
"I didn't see anyone when he came out." Joe ran the video back to where Surrey emerged from the building. "See? He just let it swing shut."
"Maybe…" Frank was not completely convinced. "That would be the easiest way in, though." He folded his arms across his chest with a sigh. "Well, we may as well get ready and head up there. If those boys are carrying drugs or something, they'll have to take it out for a little while at least. Maybe we'll get lucky."
"Right."
-o-o-o-o-o-
Frank and Joe crouched in the shadow of the neighboring warehouse, studying the alley next to their target.
"The van's still there," Joe noted.
"Which means everyone is probably still inside," Frank said. He nodded toward the dock. "Why don't you hide over there while I try the door? I'll signal if I need you to open it. Once I'm inside, you stay out of sight. If anything happens, call the police."
Joe clasped Frank's arm briefly. "Don't let anything happen."
"I'll do my best."
Joe slipped past the van and hopped up onto the shipping dock while Frank crept quietly up the steps to the door. He stood there for several seconds, listening carefully, and then tried the handle slowly. It turned and the door opened with a faint click. Joe, peeking around the edge of the wall, gave him a thumbs-up and moved out of sight. Frank pushed the door open just far enough to take a quick look. It was dark and quiet inside, so he quickly slipped in and shut the door. He waited there for some sign that he had been observed, but it remained quiet. Carefully, he moved out into the warehouse.
Heavy crates stacked in neat rows divided the warehouse floor into aisles, making it impossible to see more than a dozen or so paces in any direction. Frank edged carefully along a wall of crates, pausing frequently to listen. At each intersection, he dropped down to sweep his fingers across the floor and feel for dust. Since several people had walked through here not too long ago, the dust would be disturbed along the path they took. His path took him to the middle of the warehouse, where a stairway led up to another floor. Faint light filtered down from above.
Frank ghosted up the stairs as silently as he could. Near the top, he paused. The stairwell opened into a large room. A couple of tables and several chairs were set about seemingly at random. Directly ahead of him, a door stood open into another room and it was from there that the light issued. Frank moved up a little higher so he could see the tops of the tables, but just as he did so, a man stepped into view in the open doorway. His eyes fell on Frank and a look of stark surprise crossed his face; then he lowered his brows threateningly.
"Don't even try to run, buddy," he snarled. A gun appeared in his hand, pointed at Frank. Frank went still. The man came forward slowly. "Show me your hands." Frank raised his hands. Another man appeared behind the first. "I told you Surrey always forgets to lock the door," the first man growled back over his shoulder. "You should have checked it when I told you to."
The second man rubbed his eyes and stared at Frank. "What're you gonna do with him?"
"Stick him with the others and call Quito. This is getting out of hand." The man walked toward Frank. "Get up here and turn around. Burt, get over here and search him."
Frank moved to the top of the steps and turned around. There was no way he could make it down the stairs before being shot. He stood still while he was patted down and relieved of his wallet and cell phone. Then a thick hand grabbed him firmly by the back of the neck.
"Come on, you. Don't try anything funny." The muzzle of the gun was jammed sharply into his back. "Let's go." Guided by sharp jerks on his neck, Frank was quick-marched past the stairs to another door. The man called Burt unlocked it and Frank was shoved unceremoniously into the darkness inside. Frank jumped for the door as it was slammed shut behind him, but he was too late. The door was already locked.
-o-o-o-
Joe risked a quick look around the corner of the dock when he heard the side door bang open. A man stepped out onto the landing already involved in a conversation on his cell phone.
"Is that better? I'm outside now. Nah, nobody's around. Look, you better get over here. Surrey left the door open again and we caught some guy wandering around the warehouse."
Joe's heart began to race and he edged farther forward.
"Uh huh. We stuck him in with the others. But look, this is no good. We gotta move the boys. You coming over or what?" The man listened for several seconds, nodding repeatedly. "Yeah, ok. That's good."
The sudden clang of the dock's roll-up door unlatching made Joe jump. Trapped between whoever was opening the door and the other man, Joe momentarily froze. Then he leaped off the dock and ran for it.
"Hey you!" The shout echoed sharply in the alley over the squeal of the roll-up door. "Cam, there's another one!"
"Stop!" The warning shout and the pop of a handgun barely preceded the pinging ricochet off the wall beside him. Joe skidded to a halt with his hands in the air. He was too far from the end of the alley to get away. Slowly, he turned around and walked back toward the gunman.
The other man hopped down off the dock and grabbed Joe roughly by the arm. "Good thing I checked the other door. I thought that guy might not be alone."
"Good thinking, Burt." The man addressed as Cam stepped close and looked Joe up and down. "This guy's practically still a kid!" he snorted. "Maybe Quito would like to play with him a little." He leered at Joe. "Let's tie him up and put him with the boys till Quito gets here."
"Sure thing." Burt dragged Joe into the warehouse through the dock entrance while Cam kept him covered with the gun. They waited while Cam closed and latched the roll-up door and then they continued through a maze of crates to a stairway near the center. On the upper floor, Cam produced a coil of nylon rope from a back room and Joe was swiftly and efficiently hog-tied. Then they dragged him by his elbows to another room and tossed him in.
"You be good, now," Cam said with a harsh laugh. "You don't want to get all bruised before Quito gets a look at you." He slammed the door with another harsh laugh.
Angrily, Joe kicked at his bonds and rolled over onto his side. A dozen or so boys seated on crates and the floor regarded him with expressions of wide-eyed curiosity.
Joe stared back. "Who are you? Where are you from?"
One of the boys leaned forward. "We are from Warsaw," he said in carefully pronounced English. His accent sounded Eastern European to Joe.
"What are you doing here?"
"We came for work," the boy said. "The men say we will get green cards when we turn eighteen."
Joe looked around at the boys. None of them looked older then fifteen and some looked as young as eleven. Suddenly, he remembered what Jolene's friend had said. She's glad she doesn't have any brothers. These boys weren't mules for smuggled cargo. They were the cargo. Joe swallowed, wondering if the boys knew. "Eighteen seems like awhile from now for some of you. What will you do until then?"
The boy who was speaking shrugged. "We will sleep with men." He lifted his chin proudly. "We are very young and handsome, so they will pay a lot."
Joe stared. "You know that and you still came?"
"Why not? That's what we did in Warsaw, but for less money. If we get green cards and jobs in America, we will be rich."
Joe shuddered. "They've been lying to you. They can't get you green cards. They'll use the promise to control you and if you try to run away, you'll be arrested as illegal aliens."
"But why would they lie?" another boy said. "There are always more boys; they don't need to keep us when we get too old."
"Because if anyone finds out about you, the men who brought you here will be arrested! What they're doing is against the law! Untie me!"
The boys looked at each other nervously.
"Come on!" Joe cried. "Untie me! Right now, you guys are victims and you're minors. The authorities won't deport you. You might even get what you were hoping for: a chance to stay in America and work. But these guys have been smuggling in boys like you for years. I bet you'll get treated like slaves or worse. We have to stop them. Come on!"
One of the boys shook his head and said something quickly in a foreign language. Several other boys nodded in agreement. The first boy shifted uncomfortably.
"They treat us good," a third boy spoke up. "We better off here. Maybe you lie."
"Argh!" Joe growled. He struggled uselessly against his bonds. "You have to listen to me! These men are not your friends! They're going to sell you!"
The door banged open. "All right, pretty boy!" Cam said. "Let's go!" He picked Joe up and tossed him over one shoulder. "Quito wants you tied to the bed for a little late night entertainment. I don't go for that kind of fun myself, but the boss pays good so who cares how he likes to get his rocks off?"
Burt trailed along behind Cam and lifted Joe's head by the hair. "Maybe the boss will give us a bonus for you," he added with a wicked laugh. "I hope you're nice and tight."
Joe struggled, but it was useless. Within minutes, he was bound hand and foot to a surprisingly comfortable bed in an otherwise empty room.
"Oh man, Frank!" he whispered. "We are in so much trouble!"
