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  He tried calling Sarah, Ted, and Martin. All three calls were still unable to be placed. He dialed Kady back, and now her phone also was out of pocket.

  Brett took a minute to duck into a restroom and selected a stall. There was an attendant in the bathroom. He had never seen this particular attendant before, during his wanderings around Ocaba Bien. He believed the man to be a total stranger.

  Perfect.

  “Sir,” he said to the man, who was impeccably uniformed, “would you mind stepping outside the door while I …uh… do my business? I am terribly shy and embarrassed, but I would appreciate it if you would leave me alone for a few minutes. I am having severe cramps…”

  He suddenly grabbed his side and grimaced, and the attendant started to walk towards him.

  “No!” he shouted. He motioned the man away, feigning pain with his body stance.

  “No, no, it’s okay. I just really need to go! Please, get out!” he waved his one hand frantically, hoping his ruse would succeed, and the man would leave him alone.

  The man, uncertain, looked around. There was no one else in the room.

  “Please let me know if I can be of any assistance at all, Mr. Ghent,” he said, as he departed.

  Brett limped into the stall, closed the door, and locked it. He then drew himself up to his full height, his muscles bulging as he made fists with his hands. Brett stood there for a minute, seething. An angry scowl was on his face, and he tried to desperately control his breathing. He finally calmed himself down, and slowly opened the door to the stall.

  He was alone. He dialed the three numbers again, and there was still the same plaintive message.

  He went to the sink and looked at the different colognes and other accouterments of hygiene that were typically found in a high-end restroom for gentlemen.

  He picked up a comb, and then set it back down. He looked to the door, where he knew the attendant was standing on the other side.

  “You bastard. I never told you my name,” he whispered.

  Brett began making plans for their escape.

  

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Sarah and Ted were finally ready to proceed to the ballroom. Sarah was radiant. Ted was still not sure of what was occurring, but he trusted Sarah too much to doubt her intentions at this point.

  The Grand Ball was underway, and all the guests and attendants stood, milling around, waiting for the Grand Host, Walter Reighland, to appear and kick off tonight’s main event.

  “Ted, I want you to remember that, no matter what you might see or think is happening, I am yours forever. Don’t get scared, okay?” said Sarah.

  “Well, that sounds ominous,” he said, as she leaned over and kissed him deeply. He could taste her, and, as always, he felt the stirrings of desire begin. She’d had that effect on him from the first. It was all he could do to keep from tearing her clothes off and fucking her right there in front of everyone.

  She smiled; her eyes were bright with excitement and her love for him. He knew she loved him and decided just to go with the flow. After all, he thought, what could go wrong?

  They danced for a bit as the entertainment kept the guests partying. The music was orchestral and had its own rhythm. Not quite Debussy, and not quite Mozart, it was fine to waltz or slow dance, but not quick enough nor sensual enough for a tango. Many people were dancing tangos, and the watusi and many other dances noted Ted. It was controlled chaos out there.

  A voice sounded in his ear.

  “Sir, would you care to listen to something more attuned to your personal tastes?” it asked. Ted Ghent looked around and found nobody standing next to him, save Sarah. He glanced fully around the room, seeking to discover the source of the voice.

  “Please, don’t be alarmed, Mr. Ghent,” it said.

  “This is the result of a sophisticated auditory device that is entirely experimental and directed sonic technology. Only you can hear me. Your wife and the other guests are listening to their private soundtracks. Would you like to hear what Mrs. Ghent is listening to for just a moment? With her permission, of course!”

  Ted nodded slightly. He watched as Sarah stopped her movements for a split-second, and then nodded once. Then she went back to her dancing.

  Ted was amazed to suddenly hear disco music! “Night on Bald … I mean, Disco Mountain!” he exclaimed. “By Walter Murphy!” He laughed, delighted by this sudden, kitschy side to his wife. He listened only a few moments more, and then spoke to the Invisible DJ.

  Immediately, “Mexican Radio” was playing in his ears. He was amazed and enjoyed the song. When it finished, another similar genre tune began, and it was another of his favorites. He watched, along with all the others, as they prepared for the arrival of Reighland.

  He tapped his toes to “Personal Jesus”, by Depeche Mode. When it was over, the Johnny Cash version played. He had to admit it – Walter Reighland was some kind of genius.

  

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Brett walked out of the restroom, paying attention to the layout of Ocaba Bien, realizing that he and Kady had been carefully escorted during their stay.

  The main traffic areas were just automated walkways, and he noticed that most of their movement around the compound had been on these endless belts.

  As Brett moved along, he counted the number of visible exits. The architecture looked open and inviting, but careful inspection revealed that it was more a fortress than a resort. The areas where most of the guests were playing or dancing or drinking all were surrounded by discrete, clear walls. Anything that was of utilitarian use was off to the side or back of an area, and the doors were access controlled. Unobtrusive attendants stood guard, not drawing attention to themselves. But, they were all of a type. Big, burly men, or athletic women who were serious looking.

  Brett tried to enter one of the areas of the main courtyard and was politely rebuffed. Four attendants asked him if there were anything specific he required. They were obsequious and deferring, but now it was coming off as sanctimonious to him. He knew they knew he had figured out that he was in a cage – albeit a very comfortable and luxurious one. They took great pains to assure him all was right and attempted to get him to sit down, relax and have a nice, refreshing drink. Brett politely declined, and continued to make his way back to where Kady was prepping for the Grand Ball.

  He finally just asked one of the attendants to escort him to Kady’s room. The woman spoke into the air, and a cart drove up. They both got into it, and they driver rapidly got them back to Kady.

  When the cart had arrived, Brett gave the driver instructions to wait. He stormed into Kady’s room, where she was sipping her drink and looking at herself in the monitors and mirrors that showcased her distinctive look.

  Her costume was that of a princess, complete with long trailing gown and veils. Her shoes were transparent, and looked like Manolo Blahniks. Loud music was blaring from everywhere, and Kady was moving to it, her ample body shimmying and swaying to the rhythms.

  “Kady!” Brett shouted. “Pack it in, girl! We’re out of here!” He didn’t wait for her to respond, instead grabbing her by the elbow and guiding her back to the cart.

  “Is there some way to get a cab or taxi?” he asked the driver.

  “Sir, may I ask why you feel the need to leave so suddenly?” the driver said.

  “No, you may not,” said Brett, feeling the anger close to the surface. “Take us to the front gate, or whatever you call it, and make sure there’s transportation to get us out of here.”

  Kady, confused, held onto her drink, and followed Brett into the seats of the cart. The attendants strapped them in again, and it left for the gates.

  Kady thought they were finally on their way to the Grand Ball, but was puzzled by the fact that Brett had not changed into his dress clothes.

  Soon they were back in the main drive. Another beautiful limousine pulled up, and they transferred into it. Kady made a bit of a show, with her luxurious gowns
and princess get up, but entered the limo with as much pomp and grace as she could muster.

  Within minutes, they were on their way out of Ocaba Bien.

  “Hey, Lover! I missed you! Why aren’t you changed out, yet?” she asked.

  Brett thought she looked a bit tipsy, but then took a harder look and noticed it wasn’t drunkenness that clouded her eyes. He made a decision.

  “Driver, take us to the nearest hotel, please!” he commanded. The driver hesitated only for a split-second, but then wordlessly changed course.

  “A hotel?” said Kady. She was stunned. A few minutes ago she was happy, excited and about to see what was shaping up to be the “World’s Greatest Party TM”, and here Brett was, taking her away from it all!

  “Brett, what the hell?” she asked. “Where are we going? What about the Ball? What are you doing? Are you crazy?”

  “Kady, just please trust me and don’t ask any questions, okay?” he said. “I need to think for a minute, to figure out what we’re going to do once we get to the hotel.”

  She sat, speechless, unable to comprehend what was going on between them. She loved Brett and knew he was level-headed, but she was utterly taken aback by this sudden urgency to get away from Ocaba Bien.

  Brett sat, looking out the window of the limousine. He tried to call his father and stepmother again. The same message played. He frowned, frustrated, and then attempted to call Martin.

  The phone rang. Brett held his breath, willing Martin to pick up.

  “Hello? Oh, Brett! How are things?” said the familiar and welcome voice of Martin Freiberg.

  Brett breathed a long sigh of relief. Things were going to be okay. Maybe he was just a bit paranoid.

  “Martin, have you heard from Dad or Mom?” he said.

  “Last I heard, they were invited to some function out on the beach, near Santa Juanita,” said Martin.

  “Have you spoken to them since? When was that?” said Brett. His paranoia was creeping back in, uninvited.

  “Let’s see. Ted’s calendar shows he and Sarah were invited to an event at Ocaba Bien. Do you know the place? It’s some kind of party or ball or something. Anyway, they left five or six hours ago,” said Martin.

  Brett’s blood ran cold. He watched the driver, for any signs of indication that he was listening to his conversation with Martin. He carefully chose his next words.

  “Oh, I guess they are entitled to some fun, hey?” he laughed. “Kady and I are fine; we’re just going to go stay in a hotel for the night. She’s feeling a bit out of sorts,” he said. Brett pressed a finger to his lips, looking straight into Kady’s wide eyes.

  “You sure everything’s okay, son?” asked Martin. “I have some news for you and your father that I need to discuss as soon as possible. When do you think you’ll be back?”

  “I don’t expect to hear from Ted until the morning, so let’s meet up at the diner around eleven? Sound good?”

  “That’s perfect, Martin. Any hints?” asked Brett.

  “It’s a couple things about how ‘Pecker’ stock is structured. Our attorneys caught some irregularities in the final contract with DORCAN that weren’t readily apparent, and there’s some additional risk to Ghent, Inc. It’s all corporate mumbo jumbo, but you and Ted need to look it over.

  There’s a possible move that can put us into the deep stuff, but I doubt it was an intentional thing. Regarding military work. Don’t worry about it, we’ll talk more in the morning, okay?” Martin finished.

  “Okay, Martin. Hey, try to get Dad for me, his phone’s out of service out here. I’ll call you later,” said Brett.

  “Where are you and Kady?” asked Martin.

  “We just left Ocaba Bien, Martin. Have my Dad call as soon as he can,” said Brett. “And be on time tomorrow, I think we all need to go over some things.”

  Brett disconnected and tried Ted and Sarah, knowing he wasn’t going to get through.

  The limousine drove for another hour and finally pulled up in front of a beautiful hotel. Brett and Kady disembarked, and walked into the check in counter.

  Brett showed the receptionist his credit card, and she blinked when she read his name.

  “Oh, wow! It’s really you! I love ‘Pecker’!” she said, and immediately blushed.

  He laughed as Kady stood there, watching him flirt with the girl. Kady tapped her toes, holding her empty glass. She suddenly realized she had carried it with her all the way from Ocaba Bien. She set it down on the counter and looked at the full-length mirrors on the elevators behind her.

  A fairytale princess stared back, and she suddenly wanted to cry. What was happening?

  

  Chapter Twenty-six

  “You look like hell, son,” said Walter Reighland to the man.

  The man was sitting in one of the special chairs, which bobbed and slid around unsteadily. He put his feet on the floor, to stop it from moving. He had a black eye and some noticeable bruises on his face.

  “Normally, anyone who tried would never have laid a finger on me, but your money spends quite well,” said the man. “A few rounds and I’ve never been better. This will heal…in time.”

  “I didn’t want them harmed, and I certainly wasn’t expecting Brett to be so…aggressive? He’s very protective of Kady, isn’t he? I wondered why until today. The video feeds from the limo and their rooms proved to be illuminating indeed,” said Reighland.

  “Why didn’t you know? It’s as plain as day when you see them together,” said the man. He lit a cigarette, and Reighland frowned slightly.

  “Anyway, I thought you might have…” Scott began.

  Reighland cut him off with a chopping motion of his hand and a growl.

  “I don’t pay you to think, son,” he said. “I pay you to solve my problems. Do you know what my problem is right now?”

  “Problem?” said the man. He blew a few perfect smoke rings at Reighland, who waved them apart. Reighland coughed.

  “I’d guess that it’s the fact that Brett stands to inherit Ghent from his father. And an heir from the pairing of him and his stepsister might complicate things. I mean, the Markland’s might not be happy, right?”

  He grinned, pleased with his cleverness.

  “Maybe you are more gifted than I had been led to believe,” Reighland lied. He smiled a shark-toothed smile and continued.

  “Young man, if it weren’t necessary for you to be part of my plan to rid myself of Ghent, Inc. in an expeditious fashion, you’d be sitting out there, in the ocean. At the bottom. As shark bait. I can assure you I would be watching it from a cage right next to you, enjoying every second of your painful and well-deserved demise,” said Reighland, gesturing out beyond the cliffs.

  The man laughed. He took a deep drag on the cigarette, almost killing the entire butt. He massaged his forehead with a long hand and ran it through his hair.

  “What’s the next step, Uncle Jon?” said Scott.

  

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Martin Freiberg was thinking he needed to do something. He stared at the phone, realizing that all four members of his friend’s family were at Ocaba Bien.

  For the past week, he had been reviewing the DORCAN contract and realized that there was at least one shell corporation acting as a cut out between Ghent, Inc. and the military customer. He had done some research, made some calls to investment banks where he had contacts, and found out that three shell companies were involved. One of them had a Wyoming address that was very near a ranch owned by another of the companies. That company had a connection with Walter Reighland.

  He had been doing quite a bit of investigation since the DORCAN deal had begun. The contract irregularities were a concern, and so Martin put his corporate attorneys on overtime.

  When Brett had spoken to his father and Martin about the ‘Pecker’ situation, Martin had made sure Ghent’s lawyers had taken a look, all under a non-disclosure agreement and in total confidence. He didn’t want to queer Brett
’s pending deal, and it was all done behind closed doors. Even Brett didn’t realize Martin had arranged for Ghent’s corporate attorneys to review the contract.

  Martin and his team could not find anything overt in the contracts, but there was some odd language. It was just a few lines, buried in the Intellectual Property section. But, nothing set off any alarms to the team, and so Brett eventually signed on the dotted line, netting him six billion dollars.

  Now, he stared at the data on his monitor once again.

  A week ago, something about the ‘Pecker’ deal had piqued his interest. An alarm had sounded in the back of his mind. He had reviewed the contract. Everything seemed in order, except for those few lines that were innocuous enough.

  But, Martin had recalled seeing exactly the same lines in the Ghent contracts. He deduced that the same attorneys had written both, which was certainly a great coincidence.

  Further digging and a few well-placed calls had confirmed that Reighland’s shell company was the one attacking Ghent and had managed to attain a significant interest in ‘Pecker.’

  Why? What was so important about Ghent to Reighland? And why was he interested in helping Brett?

  Martin had pondered this for several days. Then, he had called a private investigator friend of his whom he trusted implicitly.

  Three days later, the PI called, and had some fascinating news. Martin listened and then thanked his friend, telling him the next round of drinks would be on him. Martin knew that would be a costly bar tab since the PI lived in Hawaii, and only drank while in Hong Kong. Martin reflected that the cost was completely worth it, given the gravity of the information.

  According to his friend, a certain Walter Reighland had died two years ago. Great care had been taken to hide this fact from the rest of the world, and the PI surmised that maybe ten people in total were aware of this. And that included him and Martin.

  He warned Martin to be careful about revealing this information, as he felt that it was dangerous knowledge. The PI had used up a favor with a Russian mobster to uncover this tidbit. He had been careful to call Martin on a secure land line, using an encrypted connection, and warned him to not trust anyone else with the revelation.