Eric Olafson Midshipman Vol 4 Part 78 NEWPORT ACADEMY
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St. Searle's Academy: The New Class - Part 6 free porn video
All the girls at St. Searle's Academy for Young Ladies were once men,
most of them criminals. Now the new arrivals are carrying out their first
mission for the school, but unbeknownst to the others Lucy Costello -
formerly the mobster Sal Buscemi - has a secret mission of her own....
ST. SEARLE'S ACADEMY: THE NEW CLASS - part 6
by BobH
(c) 2017
-11 -
First the klaxon to wake them up blared out of the speaker above the
door, then came the announcement:
"Will Jennifer & Jessica Smith please report to the headmistress's office
before their morning run."
It was an order not a request and one Jessica was sure would cause a lot
of speculation among the other girls. It did. When they joined Lucy,
Debbie, and the rest of the first years afterwards they were all eager to
know what this was about.
"Somebody wants to become our legal guardian with a view to eventually
adopting us," she told them, not revealing this was just confirmation of
something she and Jennifer already knew was coming.
"Lucky cows!" said someone.
They all knew what this meant. Because the girls they now were had not
existed until they were transformed into them they had no actual parents.
Since a whole school where every pupil was an orphan might attract
attention, fake biographies had been prepared for each of them and
various government databases amended accordingly. Even so, this would
still mean no pupil could produce an actual parent. To counter this it
had long been the practice for those former pupils who were in a position
to do so to adopt current pupils. Most people on meeting a parent would
not usually assume adoption was involved unless told otherwise. Being
adopted meant you got to leave St. Searle's for the holidays so it was
much sought after, but inevitably there were more pupils than there were
ex-pupils willing or able to adopt them.
The first, second, and third years left on their morning runs at ten
minute intervals with first years the last out. As a consequence of this,
and having to tidy the fourth year rooms they had been assigned
afterwards, they were always the last down to breakfast. Fourth years
were excused from the run but the majority were getting plenty of
exercise anyway, most of it horizontal and with each other. As was always
the case Lucy Costello, Meaghan Delaney, Debbie Wu, and the twins
clustered together on their run. But one of them was missing this
morning.
"Where's Meaghan?" asked Jennifer.
"Mechanical studies," replied Lucy Costello as they ran. "She's spending
all day practicing opening a safe. So, you two are getting adopted. Do
you know by who?"
"Whom," said Jessica, correcting her, "and yeah, it's Senator Abigail
Carson."
"Holy shoot! You've hit the jackpot there. She's as rich as they come
and...oh. Now it makes sense."
"What does?"
"This means she's an ex-pupil, too. I saw her my first day here,
overheard her talking with Miss Chapford about the black budget that
helps support the school and diverting fellow senators who were sniffing
around it. I can see why she'd adopt at this time, what with having just
lost her husband and her son an' all, but do you know why she chose you?"
"We've no idea," lied Jennifer.
"It could be your surname," suggested Debbie Wu. "Her maiden name was
Smith, which means she was given it when she was here just as you were.
She might see this as fate."
"Maybe," said Lucy. "She struck me as too hard-nosed for something like
that to influence her, but who knows? We can all get sentimental about
the oddest things."
As their run continued, Jessica found herself thinking about what Lucy
had overheard. She knew Abigail was more than just another ex-pupil, of
course, but how much more? She had questions for her wife-now-aunt, ones
she wanted answers to when she and Jennifer went home for the holidays.
As always they arrived for their first class of the day fresh from their
communal post-run shower. Those who hadn't bothered with shower caps also
arrived with their hair still damp, a mistake Jessica had made after her
first run and never repeated. On Thursdays for first years this class was
Moral Philosophy, but today was a little special. Basic principles had
been laid out and explored in the class in previous weeks, but today they
were going to grapple with the morality of their own situation here at
St. Searle's. Moral Philosophy was taught by Brenda Templeton, a tall,
statuesque African-American woman as beautiful as all their teachers
were.
"Some of you may have wondered which came first," she began, "the school
or acquiring the stone statuette used to transform us. As I'm sure those
girls who've taken this class before have informed you, it was
acquisition of the statuette. The school was specifically created to take
advantage of its transformational abilities. But was that the right
decision? How else might that power have been utilized?"
"To heal injured males," said Jennifer.
"To restore their youth," said Lucy. "You'd make a fortune!"
"Both very commendable uses for it, said Miss Templeton, "If that was all
it did, if it didn't also transform them into teenage girls, perhaps."
"To provide full, safe gender correction for the gender dysphoric," said
Debbie Wu, surprising everyone by speaking up in class.
"Also commendable, but how long could a clinic that achieved such
miraculous results operate before the American Medical Association would
want to investigate, hmmm?"
"What it does *is* miraculous," said Jessica, "so why not use it to start
a religion? They've been founded on less."
"That's a very dangerous road to go down. Someone actually used another
mystic artefact to start a new religion several years ago. I assume
you've all heard of the Church of Stark?"
Everyone nodded.
"It would be impossible not to given how fast it's growing," said
Jessica. "But then when you perform a miracle on live TV it's going to
grab people's attention."
"Of course it is, and though they claim that transformation was brought
about by their founder Karl Stark, it wasn't. It was caused by an
artefact known as the Medallion of Zulo, one the Starkists would dearly
like to get their hands on again. Despite its name, St. Searle's welcomes
pupils of all faiths and provides a multi-faith worship room for those of
you who require such a space. The one exception we make is for Starkists.
We don't know what their ultimate agenda is, and the entire religion is
based on a lie."
"Who's to say they all aren't?" said Jessica.
"That's a very cynical view, Miss Smith, but we believe the Church of
Stark may have a sinister purpose behind it and we choose not to take any
chances. This being so, no - using the statuette to start a religion
would not be a good idea. Does anyone disagree?"
Glances were exchanged but no one raised any objections.
"Good. In fact, the more you consider what it does the more you realise
that utilizing the statuette in conjunction with a boarding school where
former males who find themselves teenage girls can be taught how to
function in the world as women while coming to grips with their
transformation is by far the best use for it. Of course, this also
enables us to keep the existence of magic from the general public, which
is no small thing. Having accepted the idea of a school, the question
then arises as to how those who are to become pupils are chosen. Again,
the more you consider the situation the more you realise that the Federal
Witness Protection Program is an ideal fit. Can anyone explain why?"
"Because nobody will miss us," said Lucy. "The whole point of witness
protection is that we vanish into the program and are never heard from
again."
"Yeah, but what gives them the right to turn us into girls against our
will, anyway?" asked someone from the back of the room.
"Power," said Lucy, repeating what she had once told Meaghan Delaney.
"They can, so they do. There's no way someone has that power and doesn't
use it. That's how the world works. That's how it's always worked."
"I see someone else also has a very cynical view of the world, Miss
Costello," said Miss Templeton, "but you weren't transformed against your
wills, not technically."
"How do you figure that?" said Lucy, frowning.
"On entering the Federal Witness Protection Program you all signed an
agreement allowing us to give you new identities."
"The agreement didn't say anything about magical transformations!"
protested Lucy.
"It didn't exclude them either. If you think about it, it's a win for
both sides. You get to be young and healthy again, and we get to turn you
into law-abiding citizens and to confiscate the proceeds of your criminal
activities. And we don't take just anyone. Many of those prepared to turn
state's evidence are awful people who don't deserve the gift you and I
have been given."
"So the school doesn't take everyone in witness protection?" said
Jessica, rubbing her chin thoughtfully.
"Far from it. The numbers speak for themselves. Between 1971 and 2013,
the Federal Witness Protection Program relocated eighty five hundred
witnesses, which averages out at around two hundred per year. The most
the school will usually take in in a year is fifty, though we've taken in
as many as sixty in that period and as few as thirty. Some we can't take
because they've gone into witness protection with their families. The
rest we don't take because they're not worthy of this second chance.
Because make no mistake, what you've been given is a gift, whatever you
may feel about it now. With time you'll come to realise that. There's a
reason why ex-pupils think so highly of St. Searle's and give so
generously to it, after all."
- 12 -
The car barrelling along I-87 to New York at just under the speed limit
was a nondescript Ford family saloon, one of the range of vehicles kept
in the garages at St. Searle's. John Thompson was driving, with Charlotte
Kent in the passenger seat beside him and Rachel Cohen, Meghan Delaney,
and Lucy Costello in the rear. Charlotte was playing the part of John's
new wife, who at nineteen was fifteen years his junior, while Meghan and
Lucy were the twelve year old girls he and his now deceased first wife
had adopted when they were babies. None of these were their actual ages.
At first Lucy hadn't been sure about this, but on reflection she had to
admit it explained how they could be a family and, to be fair, there were
odder combinations out there. As for Rachel, she had again been assigned
the part of a bicycle courier and was wearing the same lycra outfit she
had three days earlier. Her helmet was currently sitting in her lap, but
she would don it when their plan called for her to play that role once
more. Charlotte had make-up on and was wearing a long leather coat over a
lightweight jacket, silk blouse, 'spray-on' jeans, and heels, an ensemble
she seemed very happy with. Meghan and Lucy had on short coats over
floral print dresses, which they were less happy with. Both had also
hoped they might be able to forego the pigtails and ribbons for this
mission, but no such luck.
"Time for another review," announced John.
"Again?!" groaned Lucy. "If we review the plan many more times we're all
going to be able to recite it in our sleep."
"Good," said Charlotte, turning in her seat and glaring at her, "because
that's what we need to be able to do. The more it's drilled into us the
less likely we are to make a mistake and miss a vital step, so we'll do
as John says."
Charlotte's glare was scary. It wasn't softened in the slightest by the
false eyelashes she was wearing. There were times when she seemed more
military than John Thompson did. Not for the first time Lucy found
herself wondering just what her story was.
"I guess it's my turn to start," said Meaghan. "When we get to the
Emmanuel Klein Maternity Hospital in Brooklyn, Rachel stays in the car
while the rest of head inside and make our way to Dr Bulmer's office. We
have an appointment, but you always have to wait anyway. As soon as
Charlotte and Colonel Thompson are called into the Doc's office,
Charlotte will reach into her purse and quickly send a two letter text
from her cellphone, which is Rachel's signal to move. Lucy and I would
not be expected to accompany them into the office while they're
discussing IVF treatment, so we'll have to wait outside."
"When I receive the text I immediately pick up the three packages I'm to
deliver and head inside myself," said Rachel. "Unlike the one I delivered
on Tuesday which contained genuine patient records from the Ronald
Clinic, these are stuffed with old teen magazines. Since we won't be
returning here again the contents don't need to be real. Based on my last
visit it should take me about seven minutes to walk from the car, make my
way into the hospital, and get to Doctor Bulmer's office. I have forms he
has to sign in triplicate for each package this time. We workshopped this
back at the school, and we think that even if I'm able to make a little
conversation with him, he's only going to be away from his office at his
secretary's desk for about a minute."
"If it looks like being less than that I have to leap in," said Lucy. "If
I start crying, wail that my stomach hurts, he'll have no choice but to
attend to me. This will turn out to be nothing, of course, but in the
meantime Meaghan should have had enough time to open the safe and secure
the figurine."
"The instant Doc Bulmer exits his office I'll have leapt to my feet, said
'I need to see my Dad', and rushed past him into the office. While he's
signing forms and possibly dealing with Lucy, I open the safe while
Charlotte keeps a lookout. As soon as it's open, Colonel Thompson takes
the figurine out and puts it in the back pack he'll be wearing."
"When our session with the doctor is over," said Charlotte, "we'll make
our way down to the recording room to steal the security tape covering
our visit. Lucy and Meaghan will provide the necessary distraction for
those at the nurses' station by noisily playing tag in front of it while
running back and forth. John will be the harassed Dad trying to get them
to behave. While this is going on I'll use the key we 3-D printed to get
into the room and steal the tape, replacing it with the blank one we've
brought with us."
"Technically, it's a digital cartridge," said John. "The photos Shondra
Prentis took enabled us to identify the system. It's not state of the art
- systems at most hospitals rarely are - and the cartridges each hold
about forty eight hours worth of security footage. We obviously need the
most recent."
"Before entering the recording room I'll text the code letters to Rachel
again," said Charlotte, "and also just before I leave."
"After my packages were signed for, I'll have made my way back down to
the hospital lobby where I'll have taken a seat so I can keep an eye on
the reception desk," said Rachel. "That's where
I'll be when you send your texts. If one of the guards on the desk leaps
up and rushes off just after either text, we have to assume you've been
seen entering or leaving the room on one of the monitors on that desk. If
that happens I text the code word back to you to let you know you've been
rumbled."
"If I get such a text from you, I'm to find somewhere not covered by a
security camera, ditch my coat, put on the blonde wig that's stuffed into
its large inside pocket, and make my way out to the car where Rachel
should be waiting."
"Rumbled or not, ten seconds after receiving your second text I'm to
leave the lobby and head back to the car," said Rachel.
"As soon as we see Charlotte leave the recording room, Lucy, Meaghan, and
I also return to the car," said John, "where Lucy authenticates the
figurine. We then head back to St. Searle's, mission accomplished."
"Assuming nothing goes wrong," muttered Lucy.
"Yes," Miss Costello, "assuming nothing goes wrong."
Charlotte glared at her again, but Lucy didn't care. She had her own
mission at the hospital, one whose success depended on the contents of
the envelope sitting in her pocket.
When they eventually got to the hospital, parked, and made their way to
Dr Bulmer's office, they were told to take seats and wait, just as they
had expected.
"I need to find a bathroom," said Lucy when the others had seated
themselves.
Without waiting for a response, she darted off. Thanks to her dealings
with Dr Bulmer in her previous life she was familiar with the layout of
the hospital, but it was a post this morning on her daughter's Facebook
page that had her rushing through it now. Carmela had given birth to a
daughter last night. She was also in this very building. This wasn't too
surprising since Emmanuel Klein was their local maternity hospital, but
her giving birth the day before Lucy would be visiting it was more than a
coincidence. It was fate, and Lucy would not, could not miss this
opportunity.
Her daughter's husband Joel would likely be at work so Lucy hoped to have
Carmela to herself. With luck they would strike up a conversation and she
might even get to hold her granddaughter. These dreams were dashed when
she found the private room Carmela was in.
Peering through the window in the door, Lucy was dismayed to see both her
ex-wife Joanie and Frank Martello in there. Joanie was sitting in a chair
next to Carmela's bed and Frank was standing behind her, his hand on her
shoulder. Judging by their body language, they were more than just
friends. Lucy always knew Joanie would find someone else, but why did it
have to be him? Tall, wide, and none too bright, Frank was a soldier for
the Grazini family and would happily see Sal Buscemi dead for ratting
them out to the Feds. For a moment, Lucy debated whether or not she
should still go in but this was it, her one chance to see Carmela and the
baby. She was very unlikely to get another. No one would ever guess she
used to be Sal so, taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door then
strode in without waiting for a reply.
"Who the hell are you?" said Joanie, frowning at her.
Joanie had always been brassy, but Lucy couldn't get over how old she
looked. She was a 'bottle blonde', her dark roots now showing, and thirty
years of smoking three packs a day had left her skin greyer and more
lined than it should be on someone only forty five.
"Sorry ma'am," said Lucy, "but a man paid me twenty bucks to deliver this
letter to Mrs Carmela Bertellini."
"That's me," said Carmela from the bed where she lay propped up, her
newborn daughter asleep in her arms.
Lucy went round the other side of the bed to Frank and Joanie and handed
the envelope she'd brought to her daughter. When Carmela opened it her
eyes went wide.
"It's from Dad!" she said.
Frank Martello glared at Lucy accusingly.
"Who gave you the letter, kid?" he barked.
"I never saw him before," said Lucy. "I'd just taken a leak and was
heading back to my parents when this skinny blond guy asked me if I
wanted to make twenty bucks."
"A skinny blond guy," said Frank, frowning. "That don't sound like Sal."
"Of course it doesn't," said Joanie, exasperated. "You really think Sal
would show his face around here after what he did?"
She turned to her daughter.
"What does it say, honey?"
"'Hello Pumpkin'," said Carmela, reading it out, "'I'm sorry I can't be
with you at such an important time in your life. That I'll probably never
get to meet my granddaughter or watch her grow up hurts more than I can
say. But never doubt for a moment that I think about you every day, and I
always will. I love you.' It's signed 'Dad'."
While Carmela had been reading the letter Lucy's eyes had been focussed
on the baby she was holding, drinking in every feature of that tiny face
and trying to fix it in her memory. Now she looked up at her daughter.
Carmela was clutching the letter to her chest and had tears in her eyes.
"Thank you!" she whispered.
"I'm just the messenger," said Lucy, shrugging, "but it sounds like your
Dad misses you."
"Time for you to go now, kid," said Frank.
"Give her a twenty for her trouble, Frankie," said Joanie.
"But she already got paid for deliverin' the letter!" he protested.
"Frankie!"
"Okay, okay," he grumbled pulling a roll of bills from his pocket and
peeling one off. "Here ya go, kid. Don't spend it all at once, an' don't
spend any of it on that godawful rap music."
"Thanks, mister," said Lucy, taking the twenty.
She headed for the door, opened it, then paused.
"What's the baby called?" she asked.
"Sophia," said Carmela.
"Sophia. That's a good name," said Lucy, swallowing hard.
It was her mother's name.
With that she left, and not a moment too soon. The tears she had been
fighting to hold back now flowed freely.
"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" she said, berating herself.
Those moments spent with her daughter and her grandchild had been
precious beyond words, but she had wanted more. She knew how foolish that
was. How could a fourteen year old girl ever hope to be a grandfather to
anyone, after all?
Lucy stopped short of Doctor Bulmer's office, dried her eyes, and took a
few moments to compose herself before rejoining the others in the waiting
area outside. The last thing she wanted was for anyone to see she had
been sobbing.
"You took your time!" said Meaghan when Lucy appeared.
"I think something I ate didn't agree with me," she said by way of
explanation.
"We're still waiting to see the doctor, so no harm done," said John.
Charlotte was sitting in the chair next to his, holding his hand and with
her head on his shoulder, smiling contentedly. She looked like she would
have happily waited for several more hours if she could stay like that.
As it happened, Lucy's return was perfectly timed because a few minutes
later Dr Bulmer buzzed through to his secretary.
"Send Mr and Mrs Jones in now, please, Mary," they heard.
"You can go in now," said the secretary.
Charlotte and John rose to their feet and crossed to the office. Meaghan
and Lucy exchanged a look. This was it; game on. In a few minutes Rachel
would get here with her packages and...
Suddenly the door to the office burst open and Dr Bulmer rushed out.
"Excuse me!" he said, brushing past the girls before dashing down a
corridor.
Astonished, they turned to his secretary.
"He was off work yesterday with some sort of stomach bug," she said,
shrugging. "I told him he should've taken another day off but he didn't
listen. Now he's racing to the bathroom every five minutes."
This was better than they had planned.
"I need to see Dad," said Meaghan, getting to her feet and crossing to
the office.
Lucy smiled, thinking of how annoyed Rachel was going to be when she got
here and realised her part in this phase of the plan was now redundant.
Two minutes later Meaghan returned from the office and Lucy breathed a
sigh of relief. Then she noticed her friend's expression.
"What is it?" she whispered when Meaghan sat down next to her. "What's
wrong?"
"When I opened it the safe was empty."
"Empty?" said Lucy, non-plussed. "What do you mean it was empty?"
"The figurine was gone," she said. "Somebody got to it before us."
**********************
To be continued....
**********************
Note: For more on the Church of Stark mentioned above, see my story
ALTERED FATES: THE CULT here on FM.
Bess
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