Ingrams & Assoc #2: RetreatChapter 5 free porn video

The next day was leaving day – in the morning for the clients and the afternoon for most of the staff.

April had made her check in call as the second thing she did after she woke up, eager to pass on the news of what she'd learned and what she'd found. Before making it, she pulled out the android tablet and pushed in the memory stick she'd taken the night before, to check out more of the pictures.

She saw enough – and in detail this time – to be sure that there was definitely blackmail material on it. She was still puzzled that just pictures of people being sexually adventurous was enough to push them into betraying the purpose of their careers – it just didn't seem enough – but what was there was definitely of that type.

All the pictures had what popular culture would consider deviant material in it. Most of the men had a dildo shoved up their asses or the equivalent. The women were pictured either with their faces and tongues in Sam or Astrid's pussy or asses. Faces were clear and it was obvious they were doing what they were doing with relish.

April felt it was highly likely they were high on E – as she had been the night before – but that wasn't evident from the pictures as she saw them.

After running through all them, she picked up the sat phone and called Ingrams.

"Hey guys..." said April, after giving the hail and counter hail.

"April. How's it going?" asked Simon Miles.

"Simon. Good to hear your voice."

"We were on standby all night by the way, in case the grifter turned out to be our blaggard. I don't know if Dermot told you?"

"Yeah, I heard. Thanks for having my back, Simon. I owe you one."

"I'm just glad you didn't need us. Would have interfered with the fishing here." April could hear the smile down the phone.

"So, I think I got this. I'm pretty sure it's the two escorts here. I've got audio of them talking about what sounds like blackmail material, I've got a camera memory stick with some pretty racy and compromising pictures on it – well, by bank manager standards, anyway."

"You sure about this, April? We've had one miscue..." Simon was being cautious, and April understood why.

"While I'm not one hundred percent sure it's them, circumstantially I think it has to be – there's just no one else it could be. Plus, I've got some vials of 'something' – we'll need to analyze whatever 'it' is when I get back. I think they were planning on quietly feeding this stuff to some of the people here. Might be some kind of virus or something. Either way, I've got all of it I could find – I replaced it with water. They might have some more, so I need to get out there and be sure they don't have an opportunity."

"Gotcha. By the way, we are going to be picking you up this afternoon. We got the concession, since we hired the boats they usually use. They had to come ask us if the usual crew could come get you. So we'll be there. Thought you'd like to know."

"That's nice Simon. Thanks. I can relax once I get off this island and not be on my guard all the way home. That's a load off."

"Ok, well, I'm gonna call Dermot and the crew back home and fill them in. Get out there and guard the coffee pot April. We'll see you soon. Be safe!"

--"Thanks. Looking forward to seeing you!" replied April, buoyed up by the news.

It was an awkward breakfast. April got out to the bar and got the coffee going just before Astrid showed up. She got a knowing look and big smile from Astrid, and then Sam arrived, yawning mightily. Sam was wearing different clothes, so she'd obviously made it back to her cabin at some point.

April got another wan smile from Sam, as she handed her a cup of coffee.

The entire breakfast was subdued – everyone was either nursing hangovers, or just embarrassed about their behavior since they arrived at the island, or both. Conversations were muted and over quickly – most people just ate and sat with their thoughts. No one talked about the events of the night before.

Tom Smith did his very best to avoid April's eye and spent the morning making jokes with Sal Girodano.

For April, it was almost amusing. Astrid and Sam kept trying to gently suggest to April that she take some time to enjoy the morning sun, and let them tend bar for a bit. Gently but firmly she thanked them and, with a smile, went back to offering coffee and tea and orange juice to all the clients.

Astrid and Sam were getting more and more agitated as time wore on. Eventually they got their moment while April was sitting passing the time with Brenda and John Roake. She could see Astrid behind the bar, doing something to the orange juice jug.

After a few more minutes –and one last appointment for a massage for John – April got up and went back to the bar. She could see Bridget Fleischman wandering up, with an empty glass, obviously intent on refilling. April gave her a bright smile, picked up the juice jug and then dropped it. While she'd taken the contents of the vials and replaced them with water, there was no reason to take chances.

The sound of glass breaking was loud, and directly after it, she heard the sound of slow claps from the single guys. She smiled in embarrassment, and looked out at everyone sitting at the small tables, all looking at her. Her eyes briefly met Astrid's, who had an expression of horror on her face that was far out of line for a simple jug malfunction. April made a face at her, as though appalled by her own incompetence, and then crouched down to clear up the mess.

The main group started to drift away after that to start packing – since most would be leaving that morning. April wandered down to the massage table and waited for John to arrive. He did promptly, and April gave her last massage. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Astrid and Sam hovering around, looking down at her from the higher level. She waved at them, and when she was done with John, turning down his carefully couched offer of one last 'event' – as he put it – and went back to her room, locking the door behind her. She had no intention of being available for either one of the other girls to waylay.

She packed, and was ready to see everyone off by midday, when they all boarded the zodiacs, swearing undying love of the island and making excited plans to meet again – which no one would follow through on, but it's what you do at the end of a holiday like this.

Once that was accomplished, April turned to Martin Steele and asked him if she could talk to him – they went back to his cabin and she talked and he listened. She talked about what had happened – all the sexual events, and played the worried woman, wondering who would hear about what had gone on.

She made a point of being with Martin so she wouldn't be in her room – now the rest of the clients had left, the island was down to five people, and things could happen without prying eyes. She didn't want to be in her room alone till it was time to go.

They talked for almost two hours – Martin was accommodating, and explained that no one talked about the events on the island. They had as much to lose as she did. He also talked about how impressed he'd been with her performance.

At one point he'd joked, "Almost enough to turn me straight!" and she spurted out a mouth full of diet coke she'd been drinking when he did.

And then it was time to go. They could hear the horns on the zodiacs that were back to pick them up.

They embraced once, and April was back in her cabin. She waited while everyone else was lugging their bags out to the launch landing, and then, frantically, ran around the rooms, removing the audio bugs. She didn't want to leave them behind and them be found later – besides, she had signed them out and would have to sign them back in again and she had no idea how expensive they were.

It took almost three minutes of running around, and she was just in the process of pulling her rolling luggage back when Mario came back, looking for her.

And then she was on the boat – a different zodiac from Astrid and Sam – and smiling at Simon Miles, who was bare chested and obviously enjoying himself immensely as he piloted the zodiac back to the main land.

April sat looking back at the artificial Island, marveling again at the construction and placement, until they curved out of the bay where it sat.

April sat in the coffee shop, sipping her hot chai tea and wondering how this whole thing could have gone so bad on her. Oh, both Laura Ingrams and Dermot were full of praise, telling her she'd 'cracked it', and how the owner of the bank was beside himself, as were the board of directors. They'd earned their fee, and no mistake. The board was showering Ingrams and Associates with praise, the people at Pinkerton were holding their poker faces and saying nice things, while obviously dying a little inside as they said them; everyone was happy.

So why, wondered April, was she so down? Why did she feel like she'd failed? Tom Patterson had made it clear that he considered the mission to be a success, even though privately Pinkerton had made it known that they didn't think there was much chance of a conviction, since there was just so little evidence that the girls were directly involved in the previous robberies.

While there was some circumstantial evidence, none of it was obtained in a way that could be presented in court. At the end of the day, all there really was in the way of knowledge is the statement "if you want the robberies to stop, look at who these girls are associating with, and don't let them near the yearly getaways on the Orosis island again."

Patterson was fine with that – he hadn't held out any hope of recovering the lost money, and had most of it reimbursed by his insurance company, anyway – but he was just pleased he knew who was responsible and how to stop it.

Pinkerton had indicated they were going to watch the girls for a while, see who they were talking to, and if nothing came up in a month or two, they'd approach them, make the point that they were busted, warn them off in some strong terms, and that should be enough to prevent further bank robberies.

They'd cracked the false trail the two girls had given – strangely, Astrid and Sam were their real names, but they had a past full of blackmail, petty theft, fraud and one case of robbery. They'd both done a few months in a state penitentiary in Ohio, and after that, embarked on a career of pole dancing and soft-core porn. April had been right with her suspicions of their past, when watching them perform on the island.

But April wasn't happy. It might have been something to do with that last night. She knew damn well she'd failed on the job – being taken advantage of in that way by those girls was unforgiveable to her. She hadn't been in control and she knew it, and as far as she was aware, no other field agent had lost control in quite the way she had – at least no one had reported it.

She understood she'd been fed a cocktail of drugs, and that contributed in a major way to what happened, but she was a professional. She should have either seen it coming, or been prepared so it couldn't have happened. But it had. Not that she hadn't enjoyed it - far from it. She had had no idea she could enjoy sex with women as much as she had. But still. It wasn't right.

She was miserable, and pissed off that these two girls – and whoever their compatriots were – would get off Scott free. It offended her sense of justice and she knew there was nothing she could really do about it – she was a sex counselor field agent, not Jason Bourne – but it still burned.

She was sitting in the Starbucks window, at a small table by herself, commiserating and wondering what she'd need to do in order to get past this, and watching the rain come down in downtown Washington DC. She had to smile at that. This time last week, she'd been sheltering from the oppressive sun. She was about as far away from that life as it was possible to get.

She looked up, out of her reverie, as a shadow fell across her, into the smiling face of Astrid. Smiling was, in fact, too mild a word. Smugly triumphant expression would be closer.

Standing next to her was Samantha, and behind them, a large man with thinning hair and the squarest jaw she'd ever seen. He was truly large, standing almost six feet four, and weighing over two hundred and seventy five pounds, if she was any judge. And he obviously put in his time in the gym. His neck and arms were huge and bulging with muscles. Even though she was surprised at them showing up, April first thought on laying eyes on this man was to wonder what it would be like to give this man a massage – if she could get his muscles to relax or not.

She glanced over at Samantha, who was wearing the same expression as Astrid.

"Hello Tara. Or should I say, April?" Astrid spoke in the silky tones of someone who felt they have the upper hand.

April flicked her gaze back to Astrid, who was grabbing the chair opposite and sitting down in it. Sam also grabbed a chair from a nearby table and dragged it over to the little two person table, and the large Neanderthal also took a chair from a table where there were two people already seated, glaring at them to make a comment. Neither did, and he dragged the chair over the table, realized there was no space for him actually at the table, and instead turned the chair around, wedging it between Astrid and Sam, and then sat astride it.

If nothing else, the little interaction had provided April with all the evidence to know that this man was The Heavy, and nothing else. Certainly not the brains.

She redirected her attention to Astrid, wondering how far she should deny who she was. They evidently knew her real identity.

"How nice to see you Astrid. Sam. Aren't you going to introduce me to your large friend here?"

The Neanderthal smirked at being called large and said in a deep throaty voice, "You ain't seen nothing yet, woman. I'm large everywhere."

It told April two things – the first was that this was a habitual steroid user. The muscles came from a bottle, because a low raspy voice was often the result of steroid abuse. When it enlarged the blood flow of muscles, it did it to the point of enlarging the blood flow in the esophagus, and changed how the voice sounded. The second thing was that this man was proud of his size, and imagined himself to be something he was not. One of the other, less known, side effects of long term steroid usage was shrinkage of both the testicles and penis size.

Since they were in a public place and violence was unlikely, April felt relatively ok about poking the bear. At best it would throw this little group off, and at worst, it would just get him angry in a place where he could do nothing about it. It would also be interesting to see the group dynamic at play. Would he listen to anyone else?

"Seriously?" she laughed. "I doubt it. Steroid use tends to have nasty side effects," she said, snidely, waving her pinky finger around for added emphasis.

She noticed Sam suppressing a smile and that the smug smile had instantly vanished from the large man's face, chased away by and angry scowl.

He started to get up, but stopped when Astrid put her hand on his arm and shook her head.

His eyes narrowed, but he sat down, glaring at April.

"Now, April, baiting Grey here is not a good idea. He doesn't have quite the impulse control that you and I have," warned Astrid, turning her attention back to April, and making the point, once again, that she knew April's name.

"Besides, we have a lot to talk about you, and we," she said, smiling the whole time.

Astrid nodded at Sam and said, "Sam, would you be a dear and get us some coffee? The usual. April, do you need anything ... no, I see you have a full one."

Sam nodded back and got up and went over to the counter.

"Now, April. I feel like we got off on the wrong foot. Or tongue, so to speak. Hahaha," laughed Astrid, falsely. "I think that you and I could come to some ... arrangement. But first things first. How are you feeling? Recovered from that last night? That was quite ... breathtaking."

April considered her situation. These obviously weren't trained professionals, or they would never have contacted April in a public place, nor allowed her to leave her phone on the table where it could be recording everything. It wasn't, and picking it up to fiddle with it now would give the game away, but still, it was tradecraft and they were failing at it.

Given their lack of ability, it was unlikely they really knew what she did for a living. It was obvious they thought she was some kind of investigator, but what were they doing here, temping the lion in its den? Her cover wasn't that sophisticated. While the details were sound - they were someone else's life, after all – her attachment to those details were not. Since she'd got back, she'd not made any attempt to live out the life of the cover story, so uncovering who she really was wouldn't be hard. All they had to do was follow her home and look at her mailbox. She'd simply not considered that anyone would.

A couple of thoughts drifted up, but she decided that for now, just playing along was the best course of action. Let them tell her what they wanted, and she could decide what to do then.

This was decided in a split second, and for the next 15 seconds, April did her best impression of someone uncomfortable, who doesn't know what to say, in order to project an image of suppressed anxiety to Astrid and her friends.

"It was ... memorable," she finally said.

"Good. I'm glad you are recovered. That particular combination of ... ah ... helpful aids, can often leave people on the ceiling for some time afterwards."

April just started back at her. There was silence for a few beats, while everyone waited for someone else to say something.

Astrid broke the silence.

"Well, to business then. I admire your ability to get right to it, April," she said.

April had noticed that Astrid's diction and delivery were markedly different from when on the Island. There, she'd been all soft and had a slight southern twang. Now, they were clipped, direct and had no trace of accent. Astrid was turning out to be more of a surprise.

"What do you want?" asked April.

"There, you see? Direct and to the point. What do we want? Oh, so many things, April, but in this particular case..."

At this point, Sam rejoined the table, with three coffees in hand, balancing them between two hands carefully.

"Thanks Sam. So, what do we want? To answer that, let me explain a few things. When you ... liberated ... that camera memory stick and the vials that went with it – the water was a clever move by the way -, you – inadvertently, I'm sure – interrupted a rather lucrative endeavor we," she gestured around, "and some friends are engaged in. Basically, you fucked it up for all of us. Now, if we'd known at the time it was you who had the memory stick and the vials, we would have got them back. Now there are those among our group who are rather upset by this. A large amount of time and effort went into this working situation and that's all gone by the wayside now. There are those who feel you should be punished, but I ... I think we should make lemonade out of lemons."

Astrid paused for effect and took a sip of the coffee, wrinkling her nose at either the taste or the hotness.

"So, how to make lemonade out of this little disaster? And there you are."

April sat back and considered the situation. This Astrid was a radically different one from the Valley Girl construct on the island. She began to see how she's underestimated this woman – by design – and had really only gotten one over her by accident. The memory stick and the vials – and she knew exactly what was in those vials now, since the one vial she'd managed to get home – stored in her emptied and flushed out perfume bottle – had yielded it's secrets. She – and the client - knew how this little gang got the results they did, using a two-pronged attack. One was purely sexual – a little blackmail with pictures – and if that didn't work, there was the fake virus story. The vials contained a small mixture of cold virus that was almost – but not quite – inert. Enough to give you flu like symptoms for a few days, after a small incubation period. Say, the few days between partying in the south pacific and returning home to your house in northern California or Washington State.

While they had yet to confirm it, the idea that Pinkerton and to an extent, Ingrams, was running with, was that the gang was using dual approaches. One was the sexual imagery blackmail, but if that wasn't enough, they were also dosing up variable combinations of partners with the flu virus, then telling them they were 'infected' with some mystery disease, and only they had the cure. Never mind that the symptoms would go away on their own – they used fear against the victims. It was almost certain they would use time as a weapon – "You'd better come through now or you'll be dead in days. Don't waste your time talking to Doctors; you'll be dead before they can do anything. Etc etc etc."

In a way, it was genius. Owning the pictures was not illegal, and if anyone did go to the cops, well, they'd be fine in a few days, and there was no evidence to the contrary. While they'd get a slap on the wrist, no one could prove anything and they'd be free to carry on with someone else.

The secret really was the attendance at the island retreat. The people coming there were ready made for this kind of scam. Normally uptight church going people, who get away to the sun, get drunk, be in a closed secure environment where they were encouraged to explore their sexuality, with laid on entertainment? It was no wonder they had succeeded every year in their attempts to compromise one of the bank managers.

And then April had wandered in, and fucked it all up, removing both the vials of flu and the memory stick in the camera – all materials used to coerce the unwilling were destroyed.

She could quite understand Astrid was pissed, but what did they want with her?

They had obviously figured out she wasn't what she purported to be, but what did they think she actually was? Well, there was only one way to find out...

Astrid leaned forward and whispered in a low voice, ensuring April leaned forward to listen, too.

"So, April. By now I'm sure all sorts of scenarios have run through that magnificent head of yours. Here's the deal. You fucked up a perfectly good operation for us, one that was successful for years until you showed up. You are obviously some kind of operative for some agency, there to fuck up our little game. And you did, so kudos to you. But for that, there comes a price. And the price is, you help us make up for the fuck up you caused."

There was silence, and April looked up at Astrid, puzzled.

"Why?" she asked, simply.

Astrid smiled at her.

"That tea you've been nursing. You think its just tea? You've just ingested some of our more ... potent mixtures. But don't take my word for it. Go have your blood tested."

This didn't sound so good to April. She knew the stuff they used on the clients at the island would never stand up to that scrutiny. Either this was a huge bluff or she was in real trouble.

"What?" It wasn't difficult for her to appear nervous and upset. "What did you do to me?"

"What do you think? A little something to ensure some cooperation. Don't look so down. It's easily fixable with one of our other concoctions. Just make sure you don't leave it too long dear. It might get a little ... messy."

April considered her situation. They could be bluffing – they had in the past – but then they'd know she'd know that, so perhaps they weren't. There were ways to find out, and luckily enough, she had access to them. Either way, it was an alarming situation. She resolved to play along, in a worried fashion.

"What have you given me? Tell me..."

Astrid smiled. "All in good time. Now, we know you are an investigator of some kind. We don't know who for, but I would hazard a guess it's for one of those faceless entities that's made up of letters. What we want is you. Or more to the point, we want access. We want to know a good place to ... help redistribute the wealth, shall we say. You denied us a source, so it's up to you to help provide a new one. We figure that you must have access to some juicy information – something going on that we can use to ... increase the war chest."

"Like what?" April was genuinely curious about what they thought she knew.

"Oh, I'm sure I don't know. But I have faith that you'll find something. Work as though your life depends on it. Have a look through some old case files, or find some juicy little company that has a lot of cash on hand. It doesn't matter – just be sure that it's somewhere we can visit where there will be very little follow up."

April just sat still, staring at Astrid, unblinking.

Astrid reached out and patted her hand. "It's all going to be ok, April. Just play along, give us a little something and everything will be fine. You'll see. You never know, once this is over, we can plan a repeat of that last night?"

April involuntarily and internally jumped at the touch. It took every ounce of her self-control to not react physically, and the fact that she turned to stone in order to do that was not lost on Astrid, who smiled the content smile of someone who knows they have hit home. Internally, April was mad at herself for losing her composure, even internally. She was the professional here, not Astrid. She was the one who was supposed to be in control.

"Oh you do remember it. So do I. So does Sam here. We've never had a reaction quite like that. I do wish we'd had camera's rolling for that one. I've never had a woman react like you did, and, to tell you the truth, I've never come quite as hard as I did when you were doing your stuff. I know for a fact that once this ... unpleasantness ... is past us, I'd quite like to see if we can't recapture that? How do you feel about that April? Hmmm?"

Astrid drifted her fingertips on the top of April's hand and along her bare forearm. She smiled seductively at April while doing so, her tongue flicking out and licking the corner of her lips.

It was all very classic seduction technique, straight out of one of the texts that April had read at the start of her career at Ingrams. She was well aware of what Astrid was doing – a textbook case of carrot and stick. Make April want something, and then give her a reason to not back out. A weaker personality could easily fall for it – the person gets something they want, and internally, they rationalize it as something they had to do anyway, because of the stick part of the 'persuasion'.

"Now, you run along and get your blood tested or whatever it is you want to do, and we'll be in touch. You might want to be a little private about where you get your blood tested – wouldn't want your employers to know, would we? You'd be benched and out of a job almost immediately, so it's not in either your interests or ours to do that. Something to bear in mind. We'll be in touch."

Astrid rose in one fluid motion, and nodded at Sam and the large man behind her, who was still doing his best to look menacing and walked out, still holding her coffee, without looking back.

--April released a breath she didn't know she was holding and, giving it a minute, rose herself, picking up her cup carefully, and looking intently at the barristers working in the coffee shop, so she'd recognize them again. If there was anything in her tea, one of them put it there.

--Walking out, her thoughts were a whirl. She was pissed at being uncovered – although she really only had herself to blame for that – and also excited. If she took this back to Ingrams, she had no idea what they'd want to do to Sam and Astrid. But Ingrams was a house of subversive therapy, not a spy network. What could they do? But on the other hand, April wanted Astrid and Sam to get theirs.

--So what to do?

"Are you sure about this?" asked the mousey woman with the large spectacles and white coat. The woman pushed the spectacles back up her nose again, since they were prone to dropping down, and then scratched the top of her head, where her hair was pulled up in a bun, giving her face a dragged up look.

"Yes, I'm sure, Wendy. I need a blood test and some analysis of the tea in that cup."

Wendy pursed her lips and regarded April.

"Is this official? Something I should be making reports about?"

April smiled at her friend wearily and said, "No, just need something checked out. There may or may not be something in the tea, something to give me symptoms of flu or something, and I need you to look at it. It doesn't need to be official; in fact it's better if it's not. Come on, Wendy, you owe me, you know it."

Wendy Slater did in fact owe April. She owed her a lot. They'd met when April had official work from Ingrams to deliver to the company where Wendy worked – she was the head lab tech for an analysis company – the kind that police and FBI use to get details on fibers or blood spatters. Ingrams also contracted for the rare occasions where they needed DNA tests.