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THE ISLAND

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					THE ISLAND
( by Greg Johnson )

           Well, Bill 抯 big problem came from a fight. This time he beat
the bloody pulp out of someone who had connections and Bill was looking
at a class C felony for assault. Like I said it really should have been
reduced to a misdemeanor but it wasn 抰 and Bill spent a year in lockup.
He served his time and was released with time off for good behavior and
got off even earlier since County was over booked.

            Next thing I know Bill was back on the island with a warrant
out for his arrest for failing to appear before his Parole Officer. The
day Bill walked out of County was the last day his Parole Officer had seen
him. Bill was no longer a troubled teenager. He was now a man of
twenty-three who liked his freedom.
            Yes, there was no question that was Bill up the road there.
To the right of him were the sand dunes and the beach beyond. On the left
side of the road was the forest. I always suspected Bill spent a lot of
time in those woods and probably knew it as few other men on the island
did. The problem I was alone and if he were to put up a fight, there was
not enough back-up available to take him down before he could get away.
Given the fifty-yard head start he had, he 抎 be in there home free before
I got out of the car. This man could move like a rabbit when he wanted
to.

            I think Bill knew he was going to be in trouble and knew that
he 抎 done wrong for not reporting in but I don 抰 think he cottoned much
to the idea of taking the ferry to the mainland once a month just to listen
to his P.O. give him a lecture about getting a job and toeing the line.
Bill just wasn 抰 that kind of guy. Maybe I was hoping he 抎 make a run
for it. Stupid Ass. He saw me and what did he do? He unzipped his fly,
pulled out his whang, making sure I saw it and began to piss.
            I thought: Bill, oh Bill, now why did you have to go and do
that right in front of the law? He was still fifty yards away when I got
out of the car. I radioed for backup knowing that chances were slim they
抎 get here any time soon. Fuck, the asshole was grinning at me, almost
daring me to try to arrest him.
            I don 抰 know how long it had been since he had pissed but he
could have taken on the Energizer bunny. I let him finish before I
approached him, waiting for him to put it back in his pants, but he didn
抰. He just stood there in plain view, hands playing with it, pulling on
it, teasing it to hard. I looked around to see if there were cars coming
or anything like that. If there had been, I would have no choice to bust
him and I really didn 抰 want to have to take him down right about now.
He was acting silly almost like he was high. Bill had never done drugs,
just booze ? at least not that I was aware of.
            揃 ill, put that damned thing away or else I 抣 l have to arrest
you for assault with a deadly weapon.? I tried to make a joke out of it,
sort of. He laughed at me.
            揧 ou and whose Army, David?
            揥 ant me to call Steve?? I yelled to him. 揧 ou know I can
抰 take you by myself but you know that both of us could!?
            Steve was my ex-marine cousin who had been in Bills class in
high school before Bill had dropped out. He had seen Steve come and go
on and off the island while in the Marines and he had even seen him on
the beach shirtless. Once when Bill was in lockup he had told me that he
kind of wished he had done like his brother and Steve had done and that
Steve was one mighty fine looking man. I had never figured Bill to be queer
and when he made that remark, I didn 抰 take it that way then either. I
just figured that Bill knew quality when he saw it and Steve was every
bit the kind of man that others could only dream of becoming. The irony
is that Bill could have become all of that and more. But Steve was the
one guy on the island that Bill both respected and I think liked, but of
course everyone liked Steve ?he was just that kind of guy.
            Well, by now Bill was getting a boner, something that took him
surprisingly long to do. I guess it must have drained a lot of blood to
pump that puppy up but I gotta admit it was impressive. He shook it a couple
of times at me and told me that if I was good one day he might let me have
it. Then he turned and sprinted for the woods, and that was the last I
saw of him that night. It was a good ten minutes before the backup arrived
and we decided to let things be for now. He 抎 make the same dumb mistakes
he always made sooner or later and we 抎 catch him then.

            Back at the stationhouse I brought my paperwork up to date and
then went home when the shift ended. Since I had radioed for backup, I
had to fill out paperwork. But I didn 抰 put down everything that happened.
Bill had enough problems although indecent exposure certainly wouldn
抰 have seemed out of line with his rap sheet. I had thought about w riting
it up, but decided that if something ever happened to me, someone might
figure him for a sex offender or something like that and if he got in
trouble, somehow it might really do some damage to him. As I said, I kinda
liked Bill ?still had to do my duty and bring him in if I caught him but
it was almost now like a game of cops and robbers and up until his felony
it was usually an 揳 w shucks, I got caught?kind of smile on his face when
I used to take him in. It made it easier for me to think he liked to think
of it as a game. At least I hoped so. I completed my report and went home.
            I live not too far from those same woods. Its an older house,
been around for ages on the island. Hell, on my salary as an officer of
the peace I can 抰 afford much more. I have spent a lot of loving time
and money fixing the place up and I 抦 rather proud of it. It is not modern
but it is substantial although it is weathered. Its kind of the ideal
island farmhouse that was once surrounded by cleared land but now being
reclaimed by forest.
            It 抯 a two story house with a basement and about a hundred
yards away, a garage of sorts which is more like a barn. The woods come
within maybe 100 feet of the barn.

            The next morning when I awoke the sun was already up, the air
was still with the scent of ocean, pine and dew on the grass. The morning
paper was on the porch and my roommate Herb, who was also an officer on
the force, was making coffee.
            揗 orning, Mountie? he said, as he poured me a cup of coffee.
揋 et your man last night??knowing full well I didn 抰. He 抎 heard the
report although he was not on duty.
            The two of us ribbed each other all the time. In my opinion
Herb was a good man. In the three years he had rented a room from me, we
had become like brothers. Now that Steve was back on the island, Steve
occupied the third bedroom and the house was full. Occasionally there
would be a woman in the place but more often than not it resembled a
fraternity home. The TV was usually on to a sports channel and although
the place was clean, it would could not be called orderly. Except for Steve
抯 room which resembled a barracks. It was always military spotless. Steve
usually kept the kitchens and bathrooms in the same condition but gave
up elsewhere. Herb did the yard work and I took care of the rest of the
place.
            When we get up we have kind of a ritual. We stick our heads
out the door to make sure there are no women left over from the night before.
None of us are modest around each other, all having been in the military,
but we all have respect for any women who might be present so we always
check before stepping out of our rooms naked. Unless they were present
from the night before, we never had women over before noon. That was the
unwritten law.

            It was unusual that Steve was not around that morning but he
wasn 抰. Herb saw him get up, put some shorts on and nothing else and then
go outside. He had been gone an hour and Herb didn 抰 know where because
Steve hadn 抰 said anything about where he was going or what he was doing
when he left. Until Steve had been gone for more than a few minutes, Herb
didn 抰 think anything of it anyway.
            I asked Herb where Steve was and Herb told me he had left but
he didn 抰 know where. I sat down to coffee and eggs and didn 抰 think
anything of it. A few minutes later I heard the outside storm door to the
cellar open, the heavy metal clanging against the stone foundation of the
house, and shortly thereafter I heard it close again so I figured it was
Steve.
            A little later he came in, dressed only in his Marine gym shorts,
with grass stains on his feet. I said nothing. He went upstairs and came
down with a pair of handcuffs. Steve was not on the force as a sworn officer,
but having been an MP in the Marines, still had his cuffs. He also had
his gun that he wasn 抰 supposed to have but that 抯 a different story and
we wouln 抰 talk about that. After all there are some things that a good
Police Officer should sometimes overlook and guns in the hands of a
generally law abiding man who knows how to use one well and will come to
your aid if you need it is one of those things that any sane Police Officer
will and should overlook no matter what the law says. In Steve 抯 case
it didn 抰 make much difference because though he wasn 抰 an officer, he
was a sworn reserve deputy and could be called upon if needed.
            Steve opened the inside door to the cellar and went down,
closing it below him. He made no attempt to hide the cuffs from either
of us, nor did he explain, nor did he ask for help. Herb and I looked at
each other and didn 抰 say anything.
            A few minutes later Steve came upstairs, sans cuffs. They
certainly wern 抰 in his pockets because his gym shorts didn 抰 have
pockets and unless he had cuffed himself by his balls, they were no where
to be seen. One thing you learn as an officer is that there 抯 a time not
to ask questions. We both sensed this was one of those. We would find out
when he wanted us to know. But he did lock the basement door and he took
a padlock and went outside and locked the storm door to the cellar as well.
He was definitely up to something.

     It was Saturday. I was off duty that day but Herb wasn 抰. Steve had taken the week off and
this was his fourth day of a seven day vacation. Steve loved the island and seldom left it any more.
He loved to walk in the woods, swim in the surf and sun himself when the weather permitted.
Sometimes he just went out in the yard, and other times he went to the beach some mile distant. I
never saw him naked outdoors but when he was naked in the house I always wondered why he had
no tan line because he certainly was tanned.
Like I said earlier, Steve and Bill were about the same physical size but there the similarity ended.
Steve was massively built and powerful with thick black curly chest hair ?lots of it and washboard
abs to die for. He kept his marine high and tight as perfect as the day he had left the service. He
shaved the rest of his body ?arms and legs although he didn 抰 have much hair there to begin with.
As thick as the hair was on his chest you 抎 think the guy would be an ape if he didn 抰 shave but
except for the chest, he was relatively smooth to begin with. But it was black and looked
impressive on his well-tanned pecs.
     Steve went upstairs and showered. I was dying of curiosity but didn 抰 ask. When he came
down he brought with him the crudely worded note that he had found that morning when he went
out to the garage.
     It looked like a child had written it in charcoal but I knew better. All it said was 揝 teve I am
in trouble. You know how to find me. Bill.?BR>           I knew then and there what, or rather who,
was in the basement.



THE ISLAND -2-
( by Greg Johnson )

            I couldn't have been more wrong. When Steve took Herb and
myself down in the basement I was expecting to find Bill cuffed up but
instead his brother Mike was cuffed hands over his head to the cast iron
pipe which hung from the floor joists. I had no idea if Mike was still
in the Navy or not but I suspected he wasn't because his camo pants that
he was wearing were faded and the combat boots he wore had not been taken
care of in quite some time. He was wearing nothing else. Like Bill, Mike
was both big and strong and I never learned if they were full or half
brothers. In many ways they looked alike in the years I had watched them
grow from boys to men, their similarities as brothers became less
noticeable. Mike was only slightly shorter than Bill, making him about
six feet and about four years older which made him about 27 or 28 right
now. I guess he tipped the scales at about one hundred sixty. Mike sported
a military flattop, recently clipped, but several days of black coarse
stubble on his face. Bill was a German-blonde; Mike's hair was a dark brown.
Mike was strong but not muscular?Bill had far more in that department than
he had. Although he was fit, Mike was thin and it looked as though he hadn't
eaten in several days. He looked pretty much the same as when I last
arrested him except he had obviously aged. Given his flattop I would have
recognized him on the street but it would have taken a while to figure
out who he was.

           His face and chest still had dried mud and blood on them and
there were numerous small cuts where he had been scratched or had been
torn by the thorn bushes so common on our island. But other than that,
he wasn't in bad shape medically. What I could see of his eye looked hollow.
I say eye because his other one swollen shut and there were several yellow
bruises on his ribs and stomach. He had been beaten or at least been in
a fight recently. I turned on the overhead light and upon closer
examination there were rope marks on his wrists and neck. It almost looked
like someone had tried to hang him. He was conscious and didn't appear
to be in any pain.

              Bill was no where to be seen.
           "Okay, Steve, whats going on? What's this got to do with Bill's
note?" I was also tempted to add a remark about Steve taking his own sweet
time to get cleaned up before he brought us down here. I also wondered
why Steve didn't call one of us down here to help him cuff Mike and why
he'd leave him unguarded while he went up to get his cuffs.

           When I thought about it a minute more maybe Bill had been here
too for a short while. If Mike looked like this, what did Bill look like
right about now and where was Bill?

           Steve started to sort things out for the two of us. Mike, indeed,
was on drugs. He had apparently been part of some sort of drug deal that
had gone sour and was now hiding for his life. He apparently had been hanged
by his neck and severely beaten sometime recently. From what Mike told
him earlier, they wern't trying to kill him, at least not yet because he
knew something they wanted to know. That was why he was in hiding. He knew
that they knew that he would come back here and his only hope was to reach
Bill and warn him that they would try to get to him through taking Bill.
That's why Mike was here and Bill was not. This was quickly sounding like
it was about time to call in either the Feds or the boys from State on
the mainland.

           Steve paused for a minute to let this all sink in. "Mike has
made me an offer that on the surface sounds rather interesting. He's
willing to go to the Feds and DEA with what he knows but he also knows
that if he does, both their lives are gonna be worth shit. He has no faith
in the witness relocation program and we both know that he wouldn't be
safe in any jail anywhere for long. Apparently this has something to do
with the Navy as well. He figures someone would be able to get to him
eventually if he goes through the system so what he has come up with is
a novel idea. Don't go through the system. Go underground." He paused a
moment. "He is willing to become our full time live-in slave / houseboy
or whatever we want to call him as long as we protect him and don't turn
him loose. Bill comes with the offer too."

          Now there was a proposal you didn't get every day. I sensed there
was more to this than met the eye even beyond what Steve had told me.

           "Okay, Steve, out with the rest of it." I said. "You're not
worried about Mike, you are worried about Bill. Why?" I knew that Bill
and Steve had been friends back in school and I suspected that might have
had something to do with it.

          "I'm not sure you can handle the truth if I told you" Steve
replied. Oh-oh, I thought. Herb hadn't said a word yet. Herb was taking
this all in like a sponge. Mr. Poker face personified. I looked at Herb
and he returned my look. Did we want to know? Was Steve somehow mixed up
in this too?

          "Yeah," Steve said, "I'm protecting Bill. Mike here is the
baggage that comes with the package. Bill and I have become friends. Good
friends. I know exactly where Bill is right now - at least I hope I do."

          "Then why isn't Bill here with him?" Herb spoke for the first
time since we entered the basement.

           "That's where things get kind of tricky right now." Steve said.
Bill and Steve had kind of a going away party?a permanent kind of going
away party. That's why the rope marks on Mike's neck. Bill has the same
on his only he's not in any condition to walk. They beat him pretty badly
too. And the last thing I want right now if for Bill to be taken to the
hospital although that's where he really should be. When whoever it was
that did this to them heard me coming after I had got Bill's note, well
they took off pretty quickly. I cut Bill down and tended to him before
I came back here. I took my time getting cleaned up because I needed a
few minutes to myself before I faced the two of you guys about this. They
worked Bill over pretty good and made Mike watch. He's got a couple of
broken ribs for starters and when I cut Bill down long I had to do CPR
to revive him. He was damn near dead. Cum all over the place though. Bill
must not have had sex in a long time. I had to move him to safety though.
He's on the back seat of my car in the barn."

          Mike helped me carry him there and then I brought Mike in here
to secure him until we talked this over. "

          Okay, so far so good I thought. Now what do we do.

           Herb broached the question I did not want to ask. "Tell us about
you and Bill" he said, his voice without expression. I wasn't sure I wanted
to hear the answer.

           "Bill and I are lovers." Steve said. "Mike has known this for
years and has been using it as blackmail against me." Surprisingly enough,
the shock was not as bad as I thought it was going to be.

           We were all silent in our thoughts. I thought Steve looked
embarrassed and Herb was keeping his thoughts well hidden. His face was
emotionless. Steve was fully aware that he had just put his friendship
on the line. This was an unfortunate way of having to come out to your
family. He was throwing himself on the mercy of the court. Herb and I were
Judge, Jury and Executioner. "I'm going to give you one other piece of
information -" Steve said, "If this is too much for you, I am going to
ask you to keep what I have told you to yourself. If you decide that Mike's
offer is something that you are not willing to accept then I want the chance
to move out and give him and Bill that opportunity on my own. But I figure
there's safety in numbers and if we can all keep our mouth's shut, this
could work out to all our advantage." I failed to see how but was willing
to let Steve continue. He could see he was getting nowhere fast - that
I had failed to see how it could be to our advantage. He turned and looked
me squarely in the eye. "You secretly like Bill don't you?" he asked me
directly. "Yes," I replied, "but not the way you say you do. There's a
difference between "like" and "love"." Still something was nagging at my
heart. It would be nice to have Bill around and I could care less about
Mike.

          Mike had been awfully silent about all of this, having said
nothing at all. In fact it was kind of like he had been coached by Steve
to let Steve do all the talking. None of us had talked to Mike. I wanted
to find out what he had to add.

           "Mike", I said, "what about this? What have you got to say?"
He looked at me with his one good eye and like any good con-man would say
"I've got a whole lot of people more than myself into this mess. The
government's involved in it and the less you know about that the safer
you guys will be. As long as you don't know, I don't think they'll come
after you. Yeah I've blackmailed Steve all these years and in a sense I'm
blackmailing him now but I also gave him an out that he hasn't told you
about. You guys turn down his request, both Bill and I will disappear.
Bill and I also get it on. If you check both our necks carefully you'll
see a few "hanging scars" that are not recent. We have a suicide pact that
if you turn us down, well, we'll go find a suitable tree, make love to
each other and go out in a blaze of glory. That's why Steve wants you to
take the offer. Your alternative to my offer is that you get rid of two
losers but Steve also loses his lover."

           I looked at Mike's neck. He was right. I don't know why but when
I walked up to check his neck I also reached up and tweaked his right tit
as hard as I could. He winced. I don't know if I did that to punish him
for what he was doing to the three of us or what but it just seemed natural.
And funny as it sounds I didn't regret it nor was I embarrassed when I
did it. He winced, and said nothing. And yes, on close examination, there
were several very thin scars on his neck although they could have been
scars from him trying to slit his throat or something else too.
          "Herb, lets go upstairs." I said. "Steve, I'd appreciate it if
you'd stay down here for now." And with that Herb and I went upstairs
leaving Steve in the basement with Mike.

           I didn't say anything but headed for the refrigerator and got
us a couple of beers. I very seldom drink before noon but today it seemed
appropriate. "Herb, you'd better call in and tell them you're not coming
in today for your shift and that I'm also not available to replace you
as a backup. Carol can call over to the mainland if necessary and get one
of the county mounties to fill sub."

          He headed to the phone and I headed to the bathroom. Something
told me this was going to be a long afternoon.

           We sat down on the front porch as if nothing had happened, popped
the beers and didn't say a thing for a few minutes, each of us alone in
our thoughts. The sun felt warm and good against my chest. I thought of
Mike in the basement. As a slave he'd never see the sun again as far as
I was concerned no matter how this all came out. I was more concerned about
Steve than anyone else. I was still reeling from that blow. "Herb, you
go check Bill out in the car and tell me what you think. I want to go down
and look Steve over real close." I left my beer next to the chair. I think
Steve was surprised that I had returned so quickly. He was sitting on the
bottom step of the stairs, obviously in thought himself. I told him to
come upstairs for a moment that I wanted to look at him. He got up, climbed
the stairs and stood in the hall saying nothing. He had a few marks on
his neck too when I got him out in the light where I could see them. "You
and Bill been hanging each other and getting each other off that way too?"
I asked him. He said yes. When he replied the tone of his voice surprised
me. It was almost spoken with pride. "Did he screw you too with that dick
of his?" "Many times" he replied. "We've been doing it together since we
first met back in gym class." "I see." I replied, and dismissed him once
again to the basement and I returned to the porch to await my Herb.

           Herb waited until he was seated. "Pretty much like Steve said.
Bill's in bad shape. I'd say we should get him to a doctor but I'm not
sure how much good that'll do. He's going to be in pain for quite a while
but other than that I don't know how serious it is. There don't seem to
be any internal injuries that I can spot. But again we don't have the
advantages of X-rays and MRIs. If either of us took him in to the hospital,
we'd have to book him and we both know that."

          In those few sentences Herb had told me all I needed to know.
He was leaning towards keeping Bill here. "Can you think of any way we
could get rib of Mike and keep Bill here?"
           Herb was startled by my question. "What do you mean "get rid
of?" " he said. I realized that he had read more into it than I had intended
but?maybe that was an option too. Nah?no murder. That would be going too
far.

          "I mean throw him in jail or turn him loose or do something else
short of murder and keep Bill hidden."

          "What about Steve? What are we going to do about him?" Herb
asked.

           "I dunno. That's been bugging the shit out of me for the last
few minutes myself. Hes been in on this hanging sex stuff too. I checked
his neck. I want to think about this some more but for now lets go along
with Steve on a trial basis. We can sort things out over the next few days.
We don't accept Mike's offer yet nor do we turn it down. "

           "You realize you're harboring a fugitive don't you?" Herb would
have to break my bubble that way. "Yeah, I suppose I am." I also thought
about Steve and his converted Assault rifle. He'd do Federal time for that
if he was ever caught but short of shooting it off out at the quarry there
was never a problem with it. And the guy was good with it and he did not
misuse it. I'd known about that all along too and if that ever came up
I guess they could say that I was an accessory to that too?

           I don't know that Herb saw it in that light or not but after
talking it out a little bit more we agreed to keep things as much as normal
as they could be. Herb wanted to get Bill to a doc even so. We talked about
the docs we knew and then settled to get a paramedic that we both knew
who would keep his mouth shut. It wasn't ideal but the best we could do.
As for pain killers, well we'd cross that bridge once we knew Bill wasn't
medically in life threatening danger.

           Herb went and got Jim in person. He told him virtually nothing
and swore him to secrecy as they drove over. We left Bill in the car just
in case. Jim checked him over as best he could. It had been several hours
now and if there were bad internal injuries, Bill would probably be dead
by now anyway. Jim checked him out, turned him over and checked his asshole
to see if there was any blood that he could see, had Bill piss into a pan
and there wasn't any blood in the urine. With that we invited Jim in for
a beer and then Herb drove him home again.

          Jim's examination made us feel better about keeping Bill here
and also about letting things develop on their own over the next several
days. Steve was no longer confined to the basement but we still had him
under informal house arrest and he knew we wern't kidding. If he screwed
up we'd have him in cuffs and not as a game. Both Mike and Bill were Steve's
responsibility although we agreed that Herb and I would help Bill as we
could medically. We further agreed to keep our mouths shut at least for
now about all of this.

          Steve and I carried Bill up to Steve's bed and Steve camped out
on the sofa for the next few nights. I checked the basement to make sure
there was nothing there that Mike could use as a weapon. Mike stayed
chained in the basement and for the most part Herb and I didn't go down
there. Steve took care of him, taking him food and the like. Steve brought
him upstairs, cuffed and naked to shower once a day and then took him back
down to the basement.

           By Wednesday Steve was going to have to return to work. Bill
was still very, very sore but could move about on his own and Herb and
I were pretty much over the initial shock about Bill and Steve being lovers.
Herb and I didn't really talk much about it. Steve had made no sexual
advances towards either of us ever, and often had women over so we both
decided to forget the whole matter as much as we could. I asked Steve how
he felt about having sex with Bill in the house here. He said he'd like
to but wouldn't if we wouldn't tolerate it. I told him we'd get back to
him on that.

           On Tuesday night we waited until Herb got home from his shift.
I got up early since I had the day shift and we talked things over. So
far Mike was behaving himself and Bill was no problem but Steve couldn't
sleep on the couch forever. Bill was going to have to move into the basement
and for that matter we discussed Steve moving down there as well. We
decided to leave that up to Steve though. As for Steve's house arrest,
we lifted it that night but our schedules were such that there was almost
always one of us home at all times anyway, and this made no difference
to that anyway.

          Things began to settle down into a routine. Steve managed to
find a couple of military style bunk beds at a surplus shop and before
long they were installed in the basement. We also installed a heater and
air conditioner down there - more to dehumidify the basement than anything
else so things didn't get moldy. There were no windows so we had to do
some ductwork but on the whole it wasn't too bad and in the end you couldn't
tell anyone was living there. Plumbing was another problem. We decided
to call in a professional plumber to install a bathroom down there. The
day he came to give us an estimate, we locked Mike in the garage. The
plumber told us that putting in a shower would be pretty expensive but
it could be done. He suggested we put in what he called a Mexican shower
- something like you would see in a locker room - just a nozzle mounted
on the wall, piping exposed, and a drain in the floor with a standard sump
pump. The toilet was going to be more of a problem since it would require
a pump to lift the sewage to ground level. He gave us his estimate and
we winced. Steve agreed to pay the entire cost himself and we let him.

           It took two weeks worth of work on and off to get the plumbing
installed but when it was finished it was a job well done. Bill stayed
hidden in Steve's room the entire time and Mike was moved back and forth
between the garage during the day and the basement at night. He was always
chained and cuffed. We brought home a handcuff-belly chain and ankle cuff
set which made his getting around easier than with his hands cuffed behind
his back all the time. Herb and I discussed him doing tasks around the
house and decided against it. If he was going to be hidden, he was to stay
hidden, and pretty soon Bill would have to join him once he was well enough.
This was for our protection as much as theirs.

           Steve was starting to spend more time in the basement, getting
things ready, putting up walls, and the like. When they closed the old
jail up in Concord we went up there and salvaged some bars and fittings
and within two weeks with both Bill and Mike helping, we had our own private
jail in the basement. They both now had a home and I could rest more
securely and they could rest more comfortably. We put in three cells, one
for Bill one for Mike and we put the third one in for Scott if he decided
to move down there but we agreed if he did that we'd let him have a key.

           Two months had passed with out incident until I came home at
the end of shift. Herb had relieved me as usual; our shifts often
overlapped by about a half an hour so we could debrief each other. When
I came home Steve was down in the basement. That was no big surprise. But
it was a surprise that Mike was in his cell, handcuffed to the bars with
Steve's cuffs for good measure. What caught me off guard though was that
Bill had Steve tied up real good and was about to be hanged standing on
a short stool. Steve's pants were down as far as his tied legs would permit
and Bill was sucking him off. They apparently were too far into it and
Steve too close to cuming to care that I walked in. Steve blushed when
he saw me and Bill didn't care... he just kept sucking Steve off. Just
about then Steve climaxed and Bill kicked the stool out from under Steve
leaving him hanging while Bill sucked him dry. So that's how it was done.
I sprung a boner on the spot although I didn't realize it until later when
I saw the wet spot on my own pants after Steve pointed it out to me.

           "Bill, you get him down NOW!" I yelled. "What the fuck do you
think you are doing?" Bill calmly untied the knot and gently lowered Steve
to the floor. I had only once or twice seen Steve with a hard-on and that
was when we had both gotten up in the night at the same time to take a
piss. We had laughed at each other then. This time I was not laughing.
But I don't remember his boner ever being that hard or as big. Once Steve
had his feet firmly on the floor and the noose had been removed, Steve
tried to defuse the whole situation. "Now you know how its done" he said.
"Dave, I wanted this. This is one way Bill and I make love to each other
by putting our lives on the line for each other. I trust him with my life
and he does the same to me. Besides if you look down at your pants it did
something for you too." When I looked I blushed. "Its Bill's turn next.
Come here. Untie me." And I did. "Give me your cuffs and your gun." I had
forgotten I was still in uniform. He took them from me, took the gun
upstairs and then locked the door behind him when he returned to the cellar.
"Get in the second cell, Bill." he said and Bill obeyed. Steve locked him
in. "Dave, you get in the third cell and turn around and I'm going to cuff
you like I did with Mike." Remember, Steve could take any two of us on
at the same time. When Steve got that frimness in his voice you did what
he told you to. I entered the cell and he cuffed my hands outside the bars
like he had Mike's.

           Then he did something he had never done before?he unzipped my
fly and pulled out my dick and put a rubber on it. Other than a doctor,
it was the first time another man had ever touched my dick. It went instant
hard. I don't know if it was from fear, from excitement or from arousal
or some of each.

           Bill was already naked and dripping cum from his massive dick.
What I had seen some months ago was at a distance but up close and personal
so to speak, Bill's dick was truly impressive. It had to be a good thirteen
inches and proportionally as thick. In the military I had seen many a dick,
and some pretty good size ones. I had seen one or two as long as Bills,
but they were almost pencil dicks. This was a man's dick if ever there
was one. I could see the power Bill had over Steve and with Steve's physical
strength, I knew they were truly meant for each other.

           Bill was tied up and on the stool in no time. That was easy since
he wasn't wearing anything to begin with. Steve tied Bills hands securely
behind him then made him stand on the stool while he used the same ropes
to tie Bill's legs that Bill had used on Steve a few minutes before. Steve
then took a ski mask and put it over Bill's face so he could only see his
eyes and lips and then noosed him pulling it tight around his neck and
tying it off before he kicked the stool out from under Bill.

          Steve didn't touch Bill's dick but rather came over and started
jacking me off while Bill struggled and fought the noose in front of me,
his toes barely but clear of the floor. I came in almost no time at all.
As soon as I had shot my load, Bill, on his own did the same from that
massive dick of his. His load shot clear across the room, splatting first
on the wall, then next on the floor as he slowly swung in his arc. As his
arc reversed itself he started to leave a line of drops on the floor
directly beneath his pecker. Steve went over and let him down after maybe
45 seconds or so.

           Bill was out cold. At first I thought he was dead. When Steve
removed the noose, Bills face was almost black. Steve tilted his head back
and breathed into him a few times. Bill started to breathe on his own but
was still out like a light bulb. It was a couple of minutes before he came
to. Steve cradled him in his arms and massaged his swollen neck but he
was still tied up. The color had returned to his face but Bill was weak
as a puppy and smiling like one when he gazed into Steve's rugged face
and steely eyes.

           "Sorry about that," Steve said to Bill. "I was seeing that David
here got the show of his life." Bill looked at me for the first time since
Steve had cut him down. "Looks like he enjoyed it." Bill said, taking note
of the cum in the rubber.

          There was no doubt about that. I don't know why but right then
and there I knew these guys had me right where they wanted me. I wanted
both of them right then and there and I had never wanted anything like
that before in my life.

           Steve untied Bill and Bill came over to me and took my dick in
his hand and jacked me off a few strokes. I was far from soft even before
he approached the cell but when he stroked me, I went instant hard. I tried
my best to reach his tits and play with them but with the cuffs, I could
only reach one of them. Bill smiled. "He's a fast learner, Steve." Steve
came over and took the cuffs off and opened the cell door. Bill entered,
took my hand in his and placed it on his thick stiff cock. I had never
felt another man's dick before. The natural heat was so erotic I damn near
shot my load again just touching his dick. Gently Steve came up behind
me and while Bill held my hands, Steve unbuttoned my shirt and slowly
removed it and my T-shirt from off my chest. Bill repositioned my hands
behind my back and Steve tied them with rope. Then Bill dropped to his
knees and started sucking on my dick while Steve kissed me first on the
lips and then, using his tongue, got me to open my mouth. I saw sun, moon
and stars right then and there. I shot another load. By now my balls were
drained dry or so I thought until Steve started backing me towards the
stool.
           I wasn't ready for THAT. "Oh no, Steve, Please no." He didn't
relent. "Trust me" he whispered in my ear as he slipped the noose around
my neck. "Trust me" he said as he tightened it and I started to choke.
"Trust me" he whispered again as he lifted me up on the stool while Bill
tied my legs. He pulled on the rope so hard I thought I was going to hang
me with his bare hands. He tied it off and I'd swear I was already hanging
until he kicked the stool out from under me. I dropped maybe an inch at
most. "Trust Me" he whispered as I shot my load for that last time.

           It was over as soon as it begun or so it seemed. Like Bill, I
awoke in Steve's arms but unlike Bill I had hung only a few seconds. I
also set a personal record I have not achieved again to this date. I came
three times inside a single hour.

    Steve helped Bill pull on my pants and Steve grabbed the rest of my clothes and led me upstairs
and got me a beer. Bill did not leave the basement. The two of us sat alone in the living room in
silence for the better part of an hour. I was lost in a swirl of new and unexpected emotions. Steve
had the good sense to leave me alone in my thoughts but just by his being there, was reassuring
and comforting me in ways words never would. Finally he got up, came over behind me, laying
my T-shirt and uniform blouse over my left shoulder, and reaching down from behind, took hold
of my tits and started twisting them. He must have played with them for several minutes while my
dick stiffened in my pants. "Trust Me" he whispered in my ear as he removed his hands from my
chest, then patted me on the shoulders; then he climbed the stairs and went to bed.



                             THE ISLAND -3-
                                   ( by Greg Johnson )

            Carol was in the office on duty by herself and I was on patrol.
It was midsummer and tourist season was in full swing. The town council
in its infinite wisdom had hired a couple of summer interns who had been
through Academy training and could be sworn as officers but were green
as willow twigs at a weenie roast. There were three of them; I had the
most senior one with me and he was the only one the council allowed to
have a sidearm; the others did traffic duty, shoplifting investigations
and the like. Some two months had passed since Mike and Bill "moved" in
with us and so far things were working out okay if not pretty damn well.
Herb was even getting used to the situation although I know he was
uncomfortable with it every time he brought his girlfriend over for fear
she would discover the basement and its contents. We had discussed Steve's
offer to move out but I really kind of liked the present setup and I did
what I could to discourage that. Finally, Herb had had enough and while
he kept his stuff here, started going over to his girlfriend's rather than
her coming home to our place. We saw less and less of him as the summer
progressed. True to his word, however, he said nothing. Bill was pretty
much fully recovered by now and feeling his oats and Steve and I had to
keep him locked up for his own good. It was no longer a game to him and
was real imprisonment. I'll give the guy credit though, he didn't complain
much?just occasionally.

           It was a warm pleasant day, even for the island. The
temperature was in the high eighties and a hint of a breeze made it bearable.
Rookie was driving and I was watching the goings on when the call came
in. Carol instructed me to call the station on a landline as soon as
possible. Bless her heart, she only did that when there was something
sensitive going on that she thought would arouse public interest if
broadcast. Unfortunately we have old radio equipment and our
communications aren't scrambled. Too many people have a hobby of listening
in on police communications. If you think a city is full of busybodies,
you should live on an island. Everyone knows who got in trouble, pulled
over or any other thing that might make for interesting gossip. On this
island, the hardest thing to keep was a secret.

           When I got to a phone, Carol told me I had two visitors who
wanted to see me. I could tell by the tone of her voice that this was
official and it wasn't going to be pleasant. She did not tell me who they
were, even over the phone but said they were Government.

            I told Rookie (I called him Rookie although his name was Sven
- I'll tell you more about him later) to drop me off at the station and
if he ran into problems that he couldn't handle to radio for me. As we
drove to the station I thought this visit could only be trouble although
I had no idea why but you don't have two G men show up on the island every
day. I told him to give me an hour and twenty minutes and then to radio
that he needed my assistance. He looked at me and I told him to just follow
orders. The kid wasn't dumb - he just hadn't been exposed to the real world
of power negotiations. He would learn.

           Sure as shit, there were two guys waiting for me. Carol had
politely taken care of them and offered them coffee, iced tea and soft
drinks since it was warm. Bless their government hearts they were in
civilian clothes although there was no doubt they were military. Both were
dressed informally, appropriate for tourists on the island however they
stood out, as would Arnold Swartzeneger. At least they weren't packing
weapons because their polo shirts just barely fit their massive chests
and their Dockers couldn't hide much either. I sized them up before they
even got to pull out their ID. I could clearly see the outline of their
nipples through the shirts. I suspect Carol was in seventh heaven checking
them out while they waited for me. I suspect her crotch was wet; after
all she was human too. They weren't CID, FBI, DEA, NSC or CIA or any of
the other alphabet soup agencies. These guys were military - pure raw power
military. Seals or Delta force. Had to be. They showed me their military
ID, which identified them only as Navy and of junior officer rank. We had
a small conference room used mainly by attorneys to interview their
prisoners when we had one of them and other than the main office area and
the vending area, there really wasn't any place to talk in private. The
conference room seemed small so I suggested the break room. We used that.

            These guys were pros. They didn't waste time. Showed me both
Bill's and Mike's picture and asked if I had seen either one of them. I
told them I knew them both, having arrested them many times. I looked these
two men directly in the eyes and told them as little as possible. I knew
how the game was played and was a pro at it. I asked why the Navy was
interested in them and their answer was "Sorry, need to know." I grunted.
They repeated their previous question, which I had evaded indirectly. I
again looked the shorter one in the eye (and he wasn't shorter by much)
and said that I had seen Bill earlier this year but he disappeared on me
during an attempt at an arrest. Since I told the truth I was confident
that my voice and demeanor didn't give me away but there was no need to
tell them the whole truth either. After all they weren't coming clean with
me as far as I was concerned. Two can play this game.

            I stood up a moment and asked them to excuse me. I asked Carol
to come in and join us for a moment. There was something very strange about
all of this and while I was far from frightened, I decided to raise the
ante a bit. "Carol" I said, "Please run copies of these gentleman's Ids
for the record. Also please get phone numbers from each of them where they
can be reached and put it in the day log along with a notation that if
either Bill or Mike Brundt are seen, these gentlemen are to be notified
immediately." She knew the game as well as I did. We had worked together
for as long as I was on the force. It was obvious that these guys did not
want their identities checked and that's exactly what I proposed to do
and they knew it. Reluctantly they gave Carol their IDs once again and
she went out and ran photocopies of them then wrote their phone numbers
in next to their names as they gave them to her. If looks could have killed
right then, I wouldn't have given much for my life. I had just made two
enemies. Tough.

            They had been had to a certain degree. Carol wasn't able to
find out much through official channels. Bless her heart, she called their
numbers while they were still in with me and before they had a chance to
call anyone and alert them. She didn't find out much. The number was a
duty room somewhere and although the number was a Washington DC pentagon
area code and exchange, the duty room could have been anywhere. She got
nowhere just talking to the person who answered the phone. She said she
was checking their ID and assignment. The duty clerk verified the two had
been sent to the island to meet with the senior officer on duty and that
the identity numbers checked. Carol is no dummy. She asked that the duty
officer fax her identity pictures immediately to verify the cards had not
been forged and that the ID was valid. I could have hugged her. She knew
her stuff. Then she called personnel in the pentagon and shopped around
until she got a law enforcement department liaison and repeated the same
request from them, giving them only the serial number of the ID card. Most
people don't realize that true military Ids contain a special code number
on each document if you know how to read it and where to look. Carol was
ex-military herself and knew.

            She earned her pay and then some that day. The IDs did not match.
The stock had been reported stolen. Now what to do about it? If I blew
the whistle they would have some reason to suspect that I knew something
I shouldn't and with the Pentagon as big as it was there was no way to
tell who would be interested in our discovery or why or what they would
want to do about it. I told her to lay low but to get hold of her contact
back in personnel and to thank them and tell them to keep their mouths
shut for their own safety that we had ever contacted them. She was quite
convincing - at least I hoped she was quite convincing. I didn't know what
I was dealing with.

            True to form, Rookie called right on schedule although we had
been done for over fifteen minutes. I had him come by and pick me up. I
had no illusions about following these guys or anything else but I had
an idea. Rookie was loyal to me - I knew that but I was about to do something
very dangerous that just might backfire and I hoped, no I prayed that I
was a good judge of character. If not it just might cost me my life somehow.

            I decided to let Rookie on the meeting with the military. Swen
was their age, and damn near as strong as they were, and almost as muscled
(but not quite). There would be no doubt if it came to a fight that he'd
lose against either of the two of them but there'd also be no doubt that
they'd know they were in a fight (unless they somehow managed to catch
him off guard). I told Swen that something was fishy about these two
guys?that they were probably military but that they were using stolen IDs
and that they were interested in two guys who were locals with long police
records here on the island. I told him I didn't know why they were
interested other than the only thing I could think of was that Mike had
once been in the Navy but Bill hadn't. Then came the moment of truth. I
told Swen that these guys would probably try to sweet talk him about
national security, need to know and all that bullshit but to remember that
they had lied to me and used fake ID and that no matter what they said
or promised, no matter how good their excuse sounded, to remember first
of all that he worked for the island and its government, not the feds and
that they were lying. Not to be lured by promises of a job with CIA, DOD
or any other agency?they would just be using him and they would cast him
aside when they were done. I truly believed that and I prayed he had the
sense to see it too. I reminded him about the lies at Ruby Ridge, at Waco
and more recently, the doctored or tainted evidence from the FBI lab during
the OJ and other recent trials. I told him the Feds had their own agenda
and not to trust them. I think I got the point across.

I also knew that these guys or someone like them would be watching
everything on the island, and now that we knew that their ID was bogus,
that they'd especially be watching the force. I decided I'd better let
Herb know and the only place that I knew wasn't tapped was our home. Since
there were no windows in the basement I also felt it was probably the safest
place to talk. Herb was at home, and not at his girlfriend's for a change
which made the situation easier. I called in and had Rookie drop me off
for lunch while I told Herb of the day's events. He listened, saying
nothing. When I was done he wondered aloud what we had gotten ourselves
into. I told him I didn't know and wasn't sure how far I wanted to find
out. I also told him that I didn't plan to dig too deep - I knew enough
already to know not to trust them and that's as much as I wanted to know
for now.

            Right now the important thing was to keep the appearance of
normalcy?routine patrols, etc?nothing out of the ordinary for any reason.
Herb agreed reluctantly. Herb was ready to turn Mike and Bill over to them
and end it all but he wouldn't because he knew that something wasn't right
there either. If these guys" IDs had checked out, I think he would have
insisted on it but he smelled a rat too. He just didn't want to be involved.

            I suggested a compromise that would take him out of the picture
pretty much altogether. The plan was for Herb to move in with his
girlfriend lock, stock and barrel. Other than his knowledge of who was
in the basement, he would no longer be involved unless I felt it necessary
to brief him. He liked the idea. Now if Jennifer, his girlfriend, would
go along with it but without knowing why?We came up with the idea that
we would have some sort of "disagreement" and force some sort of "incident"
that would be the straw that broke the camel's back so to speak. One week
later Herb had moved first to a motel, and then moved in with Jennifer.
Actually, he was happier after he moved in with her than I had ever seen
him before. It was as if a weight had been taken off his shoulders and
although I'm getting ahead of the story, three months later the two of
them became engaged.
            Swen took to all of this like a duck to water. There was one
factor that I had not considered when I put him in the line of fire though
and that was his own love life. He never really talked about it and when
we brought it up, kidding around as guys are want to do, well he said he
had a girlfriend but we never saw her. None of us had reason to doubt him
and the few times I saw him off duty, he was always with some of his buddies
either at the beach or working out at the gym. They often left the island
together in Lloyd's new mustang (Lloyd was one of his buddies), usually
with either sports or camping gear. Swen loved to play full contact
baseball? in other words don't even think of standing in his way when he
ran the bases. He could slug the ball a country mile and for his size,
he was surprisingly fast and agile.

           It was only natural that their paths should cross. There was
only one gym on the island and hunks like them had to work out daily unless
they had their own equipment. It was obsessive with men like Swen and our
buddies from the Pentagon. It wasn't long before Swen had the goods on
these guys - sort of.

           Lt. Baker and Johnson were the names on their ID. Their gym dues
were paid by credit cards in the same name. But as Swen got to know these
guys and they confided to some degree in him, he learned that they were
indeed their true names, or at least the names they had been given with
their new identities. Their unit was a hush-hush outfit simply known as
Task Force Gold. Swen was unable to learn anything about why they were
here but he did learn a few things about the unit itself. It was a black
project - that is, no one in the Pentagon except for a few very select
people even knew that it existed.

           I'm getting off track but the point of telling you all this is
to point out what type of a group we were up against. They had military
sanction but made their own rules. They were funded somehow, either by
illicit activities kind of like Iran Contra or either by black operations
funds in the Pentagon budget. I never was able to find out. Based on Mike's
comment about the Navy being mixed up in drugs, I suspected the former.
What made this group even more closed mouth was that they either were all
gay, or if they weren't they became gay because they never associated with
anyone other than themselves except as their duties required. Swen found
that out one night after workout.

          Wayne and Gary ended up doing some horseplay in front of Swen.
Wayne got Gary in a headlock then grabbed some rope and tied him up with
great difficulty and a broken floor lamp to show for it. They were both
laughing and Swen just thought this was two guys having fun. But when Wayne
reached into Gary's pants and started jacking him off, well that was a
bit much but Swen had seen that before. And Swen couldn't hide his boner
either.

           At least Swen had the common sense to tell me about it?all of
it - his boner included. I always thought that Swen might like the company
of other men more than women but had dared not raise that issue. I had
only seen him with his male buddies. I saw the trap coming. They were going
to compromise Swen and take photos or something. I warned Swen about that
and we came up with a counter play. We wired Swen's gym shorts with a
microminature bug which transmitted to a voice activated tape recorder
that we hid by their house. It would only record when Swen was nearby and
at that house. The idea was to catch the two of them blackmailing Swen.
We set it up as a sting so that Swen could "pretend" he was gay in order
to get these guys to blackmail him.

           It worked splendidly. Swen played his role perfectly. A couple
of days later Wayne and Gary engaged in horseplay again, only this time
they got Swen involved. There was bondage and sexual stimulation, all of
which was captured on a hidden camera in the house. Two days later, Wayne
and Gary confronted Swen with the videotape. And it was all on our audio
tape. The next day I had a search warrant and Herb and I, along with Rookie
and several of the county guys as backup, we raided the place and took
the two of them into custody on charges of blackmail and attempted bribery.

          Man was there quiet screaming in Washington. I had really
ruffled somebody's feathers. There was unbelievable pressure put on me
to drop the case. The city council was approached. The Mayor got calls.
And I couldn't do more than let them go on bond.

          Well these guys did have pull and eventually I did have to drop
the case but I was able to get my price. Whatever or whoever they were
looking for was small potatoes in the overall scheme of their plans. I
agreed quietly and totally off the record that I would not probe deeper
into their affairs and in return, they'd forget about Bill, Mike or
anything else to do with the island and would keep their guys off the island
from now on. Any and all of them. This unit or anything similar.

           Swen came out of this unscathed. To the other officers and his
fellow Rookies his sexuality was unquestioned since it appeared he was
"role playing" in the line of duty. I was the only one who knew different
and I wasn't saying. We were left in peace and our nice quiet community
returned to normal. Oh, by the way, the common citizens never heard word
one. All the screaming and yelling and the like and all the pressure that
occurred was put on behind closed doors and with great secrecy. Our Town
council got federal funding for damn near any project they asked for during
the next five years. Our Mayor must have struck a hell of a deal. I got
new communications equipment and also got authorization to make permanent
hires of two of four of our rookies under Clinton's 100,000 cops program.
But I suspect some other agency might have been behind the funding for
that one too. Swen was one of the two Rookies I was authorized to hire
and he is now a sworn officer of the law.

           It would be wrong to say that we all lived happily ever after
in peace. Steve, Swen and I did, but Mike and Bill have been paying dearly
for their room and board. We now have a fully equipped dungeon and they
haven't seen the light of day in over three years. Swen and Mike really
have hit it off and for that matter Swen and Steve get along very well
too. Swen moved in with me shortly after this whole affair ended. Steve
took the exam and passed, quit his job and joined the force full time too.
He ended up taking Herb's place after Herb got married. Herb and his bride
left the island and he's now working as Police Chief for a small town in
California somewhere. Carol jokingly says she ought to move her office
into the house to save us all time and commuting trouble. She refers to
our home as the "Precinct House" and even went so far as to get a shingle
made to hang on the porch. The island now knows our home as the Precinct
House and as long as the house exists on the island, no matter who inhabits
it, it will be known by that name.

           Steve bought Swen a Master's Harness and a pair of black leather
shorts as a moving in gift when Swen moved in with us. When Swen wears
these he has no equal, not even Steve. He is totally awesome. Swen's
talents as a Master are flawless and Mike can't wait every day until Swen's
shift ends. Mike behaves for the rest of us, but he really shines when
he is under Swen's command and doing his bidding. Steve isn't jealous.
After Bill takes care of the two of us. But our best evenings are when
we've had a bad day at the office and Swen takes it out on Mike. Mike just
can't wait for the merciless punishment he will endure at Swen's beckoning.
The worse the day Swen has had, the more brutal he becomes and the more
turned on Mike gets as Swen really lays it into him. Then Bill gets off
seeing Mike writhing in agony and before long either Steve or I am getting
into it too. Swen just about freaked the first time he saw Steve and Mike
do a hanging but that turned Swen on in ways he never thought possible.
Swen could be one hell of a hangman but he prefers to watch us while he
jacks himself off although every once in a while he gets into a hangman
mode. He's tried the other end of the noose as well but when he wants to
really get off, someone usually gets strung up for his amusement. He's
a natural top and about the only time that he bottoms is when he's pissed
either Steve or myself off. It's his way of apologizing to us. I tried
hanging him once on such occasion. He seemed so out of place tied and noosed
that while I did go through with it, it didn't do much for either of us.
So when he has to be punished, he spends his time on the St. Andrew's Cross
and the blows I land on his bare back seem so much more satisfying to both
of us. Once I tried whipping Mike as a surrogate whipping boy but it wasn't
the same. But for every blow I land on Swen's back, you just know that
Mike or Bill are going to get at least twice that many afterwards. Its
enough to make me cum twice just thinking about it.

           Things have quieted down enough now that from time to time we
let Bill out of the basement (in chains and handcuffs of course) to clean
house for us. After all what's the use of having a slave if you only use
him for sex? We've even talked about one day letting him free for a few
hours just to let his face be seen again on the island but I've got mixed
feelings about that. Technically he's still wanted for parole violation.
I've also considered contacting his Parole Officer and spilling the beans
that Bill is under house arrest, but I don't know his Parole Officer and
that might create more problems than it would solve. I've also considered
telling him Bill is dead but then if they wanted proof I wouldn't be able
to come up with any.

           Steve and I have had some ideas recently and we've talked them
over with Swen. Swen is going to keep the house and Mike for a month or
so and I'm going to take a week off. Bill and I are going on a vacation.
We'll leave at night and drive to Hartford then catch the United from there
to Chicago and then to Hawaii for a week. Steve will relieve me with our
prisoner in Hawaii for another week. We found this kind of gay resort?and
anyway I want to get Bill well tanned for Delta weekend. Both Mike and
Bill have been allowed to work out and have kept their shape. Bill now
looks like the Marine I've always wanted him to be and behaves pretty much
the same way.

           We had such a good time in Hawaii that I decided to talk to the
Parole Officer anyway. One day I called him up - or the guy I last had
in the file from three years ago. He had moved on and a different caseworker
had been assigned. He was still listed as wanted. I asked him if I could
come up and talk to him in person some time. He said he was pretty busy
and was curious why I was taking an interest in this case. I told him
honestly that I had information that Bill had gone straight and although
was underground, was keeping his nose clean and staying out of trouble.
I lied a little and told him that Bill had gone so far as to approach me
through a friend and that he would come in and meet with his Parole Officer
as long as he wouldn't be arrested. I then suggested an even better deal.
It had been proposed, I suggested, that I become his parole officer.
           This guy wasn't sure that that could be done because the crime
was a state offense not a county one. He said he would check into it and
let me know. From a caseload standpoint, anything he could offload would
be fine with him. I asked him how much longer that Bill would be on parole
if he were to come in and he told me ten years based on the fact that
technically he was an escaped fugitive unless I could get a judge to
commute the sentence to time already served. Of course, why didn't I think
of that? I told him I'd go see the judge and I did.

          I called Judge Winston and asked to come see him either in
chambers, or to have lunch. He suggested lunch the next day and we agreed.

           I met him at the Safe Harbor Inn and he was waiting when I arrived.
We took a window table overlooking the marina and the ferry dock in the
distance. After drinks (I had Iced Tea since I was on duty) I told him
that I had run into Bill and that from what I could tell that he had gotten
his shit together and had turned his life around. I told his Honor about
my conversation with his parole officer and the Judge listened. He asked
me what Bill was doing for a living. I wasn't quite prepared for that one
and I hesitated a moment before I answered. I told his Honor that as far
as I knew he wasn't working at all but was in some sort of program, kind
of like a halfway house that had straightened him out. His Honor kind of
looked at me strangely and then I think he must have either guessed or
seen the light. "Off the record? Judge Winston said," would you be able
to produce Bill if I were to ask you to? Again I paused. "Yes, your Honor.
I could probably make arrangements." I replied. "Thought so. What makes
you think he's rehabilitated or should I ask that question?" "Totally off
the record?" I asked The Judge looked at me as if I were in contempt for
even thinking I couldn't trust him. "Of course."

           I took a sip of the iced tea and decided to tell the Judge most
of the story, leaving out only the sexual stuff. "It's a long story but
simply put Bill's brother Mike got into trouble with some guys who I think
were into drugs. They tried to get to Mike through Bill and beat the crap
out of both of him. One of my guys found Bill later that day, badly beaten
and near death. I took him home and nursed him back to health and kept
him hidden. He's been in my custody these last three years. That's the
short form version. That's how I know he's been staying out of trouble
because he's been working for me."

          I was certain that the Judge wouldn't file charges against me
for harboring a fugitive since technically I could claim he was in the
custody of the law. I could come up with a dozen good reasons not to
formally book him or return him to either his Parole Officer or to prison
and the Judge knew that. The circumstances of Bill's detention for the
last three years might be a mite unusual though. The Judge sat there,
thinking and slowly stirring his gin and tonic.

           "Technically I can reduce sentence only to time served. If you
can convince the DA not to prosecute him on the escape charge for failure
to meet with his Parole Officer, I can handle the rest. Better yet, let
me put in a call to the DA. I might carry more weight since he has to work
with me from time to time too." The Judge's offer was a good one and I
took it.

           The waitress came and took our order. When she left the Judge
asked me what I knew about Mike. I didn't answer his question but implied
that he didn't really want to know and then kind of smiled at him. "OK,"
his Honor replied, "One thing at a time I suppose. If you've turned one
of them around, you've done well."

           Later that afternoon Carol radioed me that Judge Winston had
called and that I was to call him as soon as possible. I found a phone
and called his office. "How soon can you get Bill into court?" "Will within
the hour be suitable for you?" I replied. "Do it. Bring him in cuffs as
you would any other prisoner. Trust me on this one, David." he said as
he hanged up the phone. It was a Friday afternoon in the courthouse and
it would be dead.

           I radioed Carol and told her that I was going to be in court
the rest of the afternoon and to have one of the other guys handle anything
that came up. With that I went home and started to get Bill. Thank heavens
that we had taken the trip to Hawaii because those were the only clothes
he had. I put him in his jeans and then got the tightest fitting white
T-shirt I had in the house. I wanted him to look good before the judge.
I quickly gave him a haircut then had him put the shirt on and then cuffed
him. I didn't tell him what was up. He didn't ask. He was that well trained
that he now followed orders without question.

           We arrived at exactly 3:35. The District Attorney was already
there and the Judge's Secretary led us into Chambers. Bill looked damn
good, nice and tanned and fit. The cuffs forced his chest out which I think
further accented his now developed chest. The judge told his secretary
to get the court clerk and to return with her to chambers.

           "David, take the cuffs off him" the Judge instructed. "That is
as long as the District Attorney has no objections." I took them off and
Bill massaged his wrists. The Judge waited until the stenographer
returned.
           "All of this is on the record unless I say otherwise" the Judge
instructed. In the matter of the State of Massachusetts vs. William
Gunhard Brundt (his Honor had to look down at his notes - we both knew
Bill mainly by his first name) is the District Attorney willing to drop
charges of failure to report for Parole and escape by reason of failure
to appear?" The District Attorney replied in the affirmative. "It is then
the order of this court that the defendant be released and his sentence
be commuted to time served. Now we go off the record. Bill, contrary to
what I just said, you are not free to go. I have been made aware of your
situation. You are being released to David's custody and only on the
surface are you technically free. But if I find you are where you aren't
supposed to be, I'll throw the book at you like I never have before. David
has done you a far bigger favor than you will ever know. You owe him a
lot. Now get out of here, do both of yourselves proud and for God's sake
stay out of trouble and do what he tells you to. Any questions from anyone?"
There were none. "Mr. District Attorney, thank you. David, thank you too."
The Judge rose indicating the meeting was over and we left. I shook hands
all around then put Bill in the front seat of the car for a change.

           I radioed Carol. She was getting ready to leave for the day and
I caught her just as Steve was coming on shift. Since our communications
were now scrambled I told her and Steve what the Judge had just done and
that Bill and I was taking Bill to dinner. Steve got on the radio and asked
me if I thought that was a good idea considering the circumstances and
I told him I thought it was an excellent one. I had my own reason and it
was not what he thought.

           We went to the Red Poodle. It was a place where we could get
a good meal at a reasonable price and not have to get dressed up. I was
still in uniform but Bill was certainly not dressed for one of the more
fancy places.wearing a tight fitting T-shirt as he did. Molly was waiting
tables that day. And that's who I wanted to see us. She had gone to high
school with both Steve and Bill and if anyone would know Bill she should
have. When she saw Bill it was obvious that she knew him but couldn't place
him. His three years of imprisonment in my basement and under Steve's and
my supervision had changed his physique markedly. All those situps and
pushups for punishment, not to mention chinups and running in place. We
both ordered steaks and she kept looking at him. I was satisfied. There
would be lots of people on the island who would recognize him but would
not be able to place him. When she returned, I introduced her to Hans.
Bill had the good sense to pick up on that and not say anything. And from
now on he would only wear skin tight jeans when we were alone with the
boys so to speak. He had passed his test. I had lost a prisoner and gained
a houseboy. Tonight he would sleep in my bed with me for the first time
as a free man so to speak. He could return to his cell tomorrow.

           Saturday morning broke with the promise of Football in the air.
It was a sunny crisp end of summer day. Steve left the two of us alone
that night and both he and Swen were up by the time we arose. True to form
but more out of habit anymore, I stuck my head out the door before we
emerged naked to go downstairs and grab a cup of coffee. Or rather I sent
Hans down to get us both a cup of coffee. It was awfully decadent to have
a houseboy. I headed for the shower.

           Hans returned with two steaming cups, and entered the shower
with me. Half an hour later we emerged, put on shorts and went downstairs
to meet with Steve and Swen. I filled them in on the details of our meeting
with the Judge and his test in the restaurant last night. I told them that
as of now on Bill no longer existed; meet Hans. To keep things simple Hans
would keep his last name and if anyone ever asked in any depth, Han's was
Bills half brother on his father's side. That was good enough. Now all
we needed was to get him some ID. I used one last favor and, on a quiet
Saturday mid-day, it was done all nice and legal and quiet-like in Judge
Wilson's chambers. One William Gunhard Brundt became Hans Gunhard Brundt.

           On the way home Steve and Hans stopped by the lumber yard, picked
up a load of two by fours, some sheetrock and other supplies needed. Sunday
we went shopping for some furniture and made a few more trips to the
hardware store. By Tuesday our own houseboy had his own quarters in the
basement and it was his part of his job to keep the dungeon as clean as
he kept the rest of the house.

             There were now two empty cells.


THE ISLAND -4-
( by Greg Johnson )

            Things pretty much start shutting down on the island the week
after Labor Day Weekend. By the end of the month, only the locals remain
and the population of the island drops by seventy percent. In one way
that's too bad because the month of October can be one of our nicest
months?or at least the first couple of weeks anyway. From a purely selfish
standpoint I've a lot less work to do. It also means that I have to get
rid of the rookies. That's never a pleasant task but they all know it's
a seasonal job and all but one of them had resigned to return to school
or do other things which left me with only one unpleasant task but I made
it clear that he would get first shot at the next permanent position that
came available. I also told him he was welcome back again next year if
he chose to return.

           That done, the last Friday of the month is now a standing
luncheon with the Judge. The Inn was still open although it was due to
close the next day. We had the place to ourselves which made conversation
somewhat awkward since what staff remained could clearly overhear
anything we chose to say. For the most part we made small talk, reserving
anything of substance until outside and out of hearing. It was cold and
windy beneath the overcast and rather than stand and talk there, we decided
to return to chambers. Judge Winston clearly had something on his mind.
After offering me a cigar and a glass of port, and after closing the door,
his Honor told me what was on his mind. Well there were actually several
things on his mind.

          I like Judge Winston. He and I go back some ten years now, from
the time I first testified in his courtroom as a witness. Damn near my
very first month on the job when I was the Rookie serving under Chief
Hanford. The Chief's long since retired now and I still occasionally hear
from him from time to time or find out about him through Judge Winston.
They stay in touch too. But that wasn't what was on his mind.

           "You haven't told me everything about Bill and Mike" he told
me. "You freely admitted you knew more than you were telling me. Of course
I have my own suspicions? he said, putting down his glass for a moment
"I'm going to guess you have Mike locked up somewhere. Right now I don't
really care. What I want to know about is Bill. I have my own reasons as
you might guess and I'll tell you about that in a moment. First, let me
suggest a few things to you too. I'm not a fool and I know you don't take
me for one. You have a police force where almost every officer is single,
male and white. Given that there are only seven of you on the entire force,
Carol notwithstanding, we can probably get around that for now if the EOC
guys were to come snooping around. You get the picture? Now which ones
of you date? I know you used to. I know Steve used to?but that's all come
to a halt as best as I can tell. Herb went off and got married. What does
that suggest? David, what I'm going to say is mere speculation on my part
and I don't expect or want an answer or reply from you. Just hear me out.

           First of all, I suspect that several of you guys have a
relationship of some sort. And I'm talking more than about a fraternity
of Police Officers. None of you guys date any more that I'm aware of. Not
that it's my business, mind you, and I don't care either. You just need
to know how it looks from the outside though. You know this island and
how they love to talk. And no, I've not heard rumblings but it's only a
matter of time. You guys are all known on the island and if push came to
shove and people decided you were gay, well as long as you kept it to
yourselves I think you'd be okay. The trouble if any, is going to come
from off island." He paused to let that sink in.

          He got up from his desk and picked up his drink. He turned his
back to me, staring out the window, collecting his thoughts before he
continued:

           Dave, I also think you have Mike living with you. How else would
you protect him? We've both known him as long as we've known each other.
Maybe not in your house but certainly somewhere where you can keep an eye
on him, keep him safe and keep him out of trouble. You don't have him in
the jail?I know that. My records should be as good as yours there and I
know or better damn well better know within 72 hours of the time you lock
someone up there. So that eliminates the jail. But the question in my mind
is how did you turn Bill around? Did you torture him? Don't answer that
- it's a rhetorical question and legally I don't want to know. If so it
worked. He's a better citizen for it or so it appears. I am now going to
ask you a question that I do want you to answer. Do you have Mike ?(he
paused) or at least know where he is?"

          I'm glad the Judge had the decency to add the last part to that
question. "Yes." I replied deciding not to elaborate. He thought a moment
and turned to face me. "Totally off the record, are you attempting to do
to him what you did to Bill?"

           Damn, that left a lot open to interpretation. "In a way, yes.
He needs more protection than Bill does." His Honor stepped from behind
his desk, seating himself on his couch. He loosened his tie, and looked
at the ash on his cigar while he got up his nerve to ask what was really
on his mind. Finally and without looking at me it came out: "How do you
use Bill now?" Oh boy, that question could be taken many ways and I'm sure
that's exactly what the Judge had in mind. "Off the record. Totally" the
Judge said. I thought a moment more before I answered: "Bill, er Hans,
is now my houseboy." "Interesting" the Judge replied. "Let me give you
a piece of lawyerly advice. Be sure to pay him and withhold taxes and do
all the legal stuff so you don't get in trouble with the IRS. Put him on
your personal payroll. Have him chip in for the food and rent though or
you'll have to pay extra taxes on that too. Or?(thinking out loud) form
a not- for-profit corporation and have your roommates chip in too since
he works for them as well I would imagine. On the other hand," he continued,
"just supposing, of course, if the two of you were lovers, that wouldn't
work because first of all he'd only be working for you, and second if you
paid him for services as a lover, well you get the point. If he is you
lover, what he needs to do would be to chip in on the room and pay rent
just as the other roommates do.

           That's all just supposing of course? the Judge continued. "Now
lets take this one step further - again I don't want an answer?at least
not right now. Lets suppose that the two -- or more for that matter - of
you had some sort of thing going with him. How would a man straighten out
an errant son? In my book, he'd punish him. Probably physically. And if
he were a man rather than a son? The intensity of the punishment would
probably have to be increased - all speculation of course." I didn't know
where he was going with this and I wasn't at all comfortable about it.

           "Tell me? he said, rising and crossing the room to get an ashtray,
"in your years of police work you've surely come across the term S&M."
"Yes, I have." I replied. "Have you ever seen one of these S&M Dungeons?"
the Judge asked. I felt trapped.

           I felt like saying, Judge, lets cut the bullshit?what's on your
mind? But I didn't dare. I decided best to play along with him. "Yes, I've
seen one before." He returned to the sofa and sat down again. "Would it
surprise you if I told you that I think they might be put to very good
use on occasion?"

           That certainly wasn't what I was expecting. He then proceeded
to drop the bombshell. "I think you know a good bit about them. In fact
I think Bill or Hans and Mike have spent the better part of the last three
years in one. And if that's the case, I thank you for it. Unofficially,
of course. And totally off the record, sometime I'd like to see it." Now
he rose and faced me.

           When we started this conversation I told you that I had several
things on my mind. One of them is my grandson. He's in trouble. He' sixteen
and he's queer as can be and makes no effort to hide it. He's causing his
Father grief and frankly his dad can't handle him any more. He's been in
trouble with the law and through some friends of mine I've pulled a few
strings and taken a look at his juvenile record." He crossed to the desk
and tossed a folder in my lap.

          "Two questions. First: would he be safe with Mike there and
second: can you do for him what you did for Bill? I don't care if he remains
gay, but can you at least make a man out of him? I know he's underage and
to give you some protection I can get you appointed his legal guardian
for a couple of years but what I would be worried about would be charges
against you for child abuse. The only way around that would be for you
to be totally successful and complete your mission to the degree where
he would totally worship you the way Bill does. Oh, and you don't have
to tell me? the Judge Intoned, "that was evident the day you called me
and asked me to meet you here in chambers on a few Saturdays ago? Dave,"
he paused, "do you think you could pull it off?"

          The cat was out of the bag. There was no denying I owed the Judge
a favor or two. There was no denying the Judge had as much interest in
keeping things quiet as I did. At least I now knew what he wanted.

           "What about schooling?" I asked. "Good Question" the Judge
replied. He paused in thought for a moment before continuing: "Guess he'll
just have to drop out and get a GED later. Besides something tells me he'd
learn a lot more from you right now. He could get a GED in the military.
Besides eventually I want him to be a cop. Once he gets his shit together
I have the sneaking suspicion he'd make a damn fine one but its going to
take a lot of hard work between now and then. First, you make a man out
of him. Then we turn him over to the military to give him skills, then
you take him back and make him into a cop. And its okay by me if you make
him into a gay cop as long as he's a good one and acts like you and your
men do... and I think by now you know what I mean."

          I had been browsing through the kid's folder while the Judge
had been talking, partially to see what was in the file and also to mask
my emotions from the his Honor until I could get my own thoughts sorted
out.

           "Judge, let me use your phone a minute please" I said. "Sure"
he said, and he entered his bathroom for a minute while I called the office.

           "Carol, do I have anything that can't be put off or wait this
afternoon? I'm still with the Judge." "Nothing that can't wait." She
replied. I told her that I was taking the afternoon off then and if she
needed me she could call my beeper. For about a year she had been trying
to get me to buy one of those cell phones but I preferred to keep my beeper.
It worked just as well and that way I could choose whether or not to take
the call. If it was urgent we had special code telephone numbers we used
to tell me who to call. It was very private and worked well and I saw no
need to change. And it was less expensive for the taxpayers too.

           When the Judge emerged from the bathroom I asked him if he had
anything on his calendar that couldn't wait. He called in his secretary
and, being a Friday afternoon, it was relatively clear. A meeting with
two attorneys about some pending motions on a civil case at 3:30 and that
was it. That gave us an hour. "Are either of them here already" he asked?
Then without waiting for an answer he told her to find them and cancel
it and reschedule it for after Monday session. He'd do it over lunch in
chambers. Find out what they'd want to eat as well please and take care
of it. His Honor would have his usual.

           He dismissed his secretary and when she had left, he closed the
door once again. "Okay, the afternoon is yours." He said. "What's on your
mind?" "From here on , your Honor, its open kimono. Grab your coat and
lets go. I hope you're ready for this."

           Steve was getting ready to leave for work when we pulled up.
He recognized his Honor immediately as we walked up the porch. This was
one of the few times we had ever had guests in years. Certainly not his
Honor. "Relax Steve," I said, "its okay. The Judge is on our side in this
one and he's put two and two together and he's come up with the right answer.
I'm taking him down to see Mike and he has a pretty good idea about
everything else too and that's fine as well. You don't have to worry."

           "Uh, Dave? Steve said, "can I have a word with you in private?"
The Judge interrupted "Go ahead Dave, I can wait." Steve took me aside.
"Not a good idea, boss. Sven's down in the dungeon right now working Mike
over pretty good. All he has on is his harness." "Thanks Steve," I said.
"Not a problem?the Judge has a pretty good idea anyway and since he wants
the truth, I'm going to give it to him. Don't worry, all of our secrets
are safe with him. He's asked a favor of all of us and I'll tell you and
Sven about it tomorrow when you get off." "Okay, I'm sure you know what
you're doing." Steve said. We both returned to the Judge and Steve left
after saying good bye.

          After Steve had left, I told the Judge: "Your Honor, its open
kimono time. You're about to see us at our worst, or our best depending
on how you look at it. No punches. Are you sure you're ready for this?"

           "Ready for what?" Judge Winston replied. "Well, Sir, Sven's
apparently working Mike over pretty good down in the basement right now.
You prepared for that? They could be doing anything and by that I do mean
anything. It may be brutal, it may be sexual, it may be nothing but from
what Steve just told me I doubt that. And obviously everything you see
is off the record." "But of course." his Honor replied. I continued: "Your
grandson will be exposed to this a lot of the time?both as a participant
and as an observer."

          "Lead on. If it worked on Bill it had better well work on my
grandson."
           Bill, er Hans, met us at the bottom of the stairs, in total
surprise at seeing the Judge with me. "Its okay Hans," I said. Sven had
heard us coming and stopped a moment to see who it was. He saw my uniform
pants as I came down the stairs and was about to turn around and return
to working Mike over when he realized that someone else was with me. He
stared in astonishment when he saw the Judge. Sven had a full blown boner
going and was totally naked except for his boots and master's harness.
There was shit on the rubber on his dick too and Mike's back was streaked.
At least Mike wasn't hanging. That was one good thing.

           "Well your Honor, welcome to our private correctional facility.
Carry on Sven. Continue" I said, hoping to break the tension. Sven looked
at me and I gave him an "if looks could kill you'd better damn well do
what I tell you type of look". He turned back to Mike and picked up the
flogger and started to work some more on his back. In a few minutes he
forgot we were there and really started getting into it again. Mike kept
his part of the bargain, counting out fifty good ones before Sven untied
him and forced him to do 100 good pushups without pause.

          While Mike was counting them out, Sven came over and joined us.
"Sven," I said, his Honor is sending us another prisoner to correct. You
will be assigned Mike, Steve will have the new prisoner and I will have
Bi.. er Hans. Any questions?"

           "Sven came to full attention, bracing military style, except
for his stiff dick which was still rock hard from the discipline, even
though he had removed the rubber. "No sir! No questions SIR!" The Judge
did something I never thought he'd do?he took Sven's dick in hand, fondled
it and said, "Nice! Carry on. Corporal, do you mind if I talk to your
prisoner?" Sven braced again and bellowed the traditional "If it please
the court SIR!" and all of us but Mike laughed. Mike didn't dare. And that's
what it took to break the ice.

          Judge Winston hadn't changed much in the five years since Mike
last saw him. I'm not sure what Mike thought and right about now I just
hoped that Mike had the good sense not to fuck things up.

            The Judge asked Sven to lock Mike in the cell which he did. He
then   politely told all of us to leave the two of them alone. I don't know
what   they discussed but they talked for over an hour. I was about to go
down   and make sure the Judge was okay, not sure what if any resentment
Mike   might harbor against the Judge.

          When the Judge emerged, he met briefly with both Sven and me
and told us that he wanted to meet with all of us, prisoners included,
tomorrow morning if that could be arranged. He suggested we meet here and
I readily agreed. I sent Sven back to his prisoner and asked the Judge
what he had in mind. I want to discuss the terms for dealing with my
grandson with all of you together. There will be no limits. And yes, Mike
told me about the sex and the hangings and that okay too. Tomorrow the
bunch of you and I are going to work out the logistics to incarcerate my
grandson. If you have to screw him to make him into a man then by all means
do it. He's sixteen and something tells me he's not virgin any more anyway.

           I called Carol and she had already left the office so I reached
Steve on his pager and left him the numeric message to call home. A few
minutes later the phone rang and it was Steve. I asked him to swing by
and pick up the Judge and take him back to his office. He said it would
be about ten minutes and that was fine with the Judge. Being it was the
end of the day, I offered the Judge a drink which he accepted. He also
asked that I bring Hans up to join us. His Honor continued to call him
Bill as I was want to do from time to time as well. I asked Judge Winston
to please try to use his new name - that if he didn't one day he might
inadvertently slip up when it would not be appropriate to do so.

           Hans joined us wearing only his single pair of jeans and his
tennis shoes. The Judge made it clear while he waited for Steve that he
was impressed with the transformation of Bill into Hans. He asked Hans
how much of this had been my doing. Hans told the Judge that it was mainly
mine and Steve's doing. The fact that Steve and I shared the duties seemed
to please the Judge. Steve arrived to take him back to his office and as
Hans saw Steve drive up, Hans dutifully got the Judge's coat and helped
him on with it.

           Hans, bless him, pointed out that Mike no longer had any clothes.
Hans and I quickly got dressed and took the ferry to the mainland. I needed
to get Hans some winter clothes too and by the time we left the K-mart
with winter clothes for the two of them and jeans and a T-shirt for Mike,
we just made the last ferry back to the island.

           Saturday morning dawned bright and sunny. It was going to be
an Indian-summer type of day, perfect for football. I was feeling kind
of frisky and had fucked both Bill and Mike before I showered. For good
measure I got Steve up and we wrestled around in his bed for a few minutes
before he pinned and fucked me. We all then showered and awaited the Judge.
Hans made a nice breakfast of orange Danish and fresh fruit and had coffee
awaiting the Judge when he arrived. Mike was wearing his brand new pair
of jeans and his T-shirt which was purposely several sizes too small for
him. We had the blinds closed though so that no one could see Mike. It
was the first time ever that he had been allowed out of the dungeon. We
had considered blindfolding him but decided that we would treat this as
a reward, which we did.

           When he was permitted topside, he immediately and without
instruction took his place at the right of Master Sven's foot and remained
there until the Judge asked why Mike was on the floor instead of seated
with the rest of us. Hans was still working in the kitchen otherwise he
would have been expected to assume that same position to the right of my
feet. It was only after the Judge asked why Mike was kneeling on the floor
and was told why that the Judge asked he be allowed to take a seat at the
table. Sven replied to the Judge that would be permitted only after
breakfast and the Judge both seemed impressed at Sven and accepted that
decision.

           Breakfast was delicious. Hans was also turning into a damn good
cook; he clearly had demonstrated lots of potential, pleasantly
surprising me on more than one occasion. I was also beginning to suspect
that maybe his Honor was secretly a little envious. After Hans cleared
the table and brought two more chairs, we got down to business. His Honor
had brought the folder with him and showed the others his Grandson's
picture. The kid was some stud. He had a square cut jaw and solid broad
shoulders. He was skinny and the shirt he had on when he had been
photographed for his mug shot didn't show the potential that kid had. A
good haircut, some hard work and some discipline and the intelligence in
this punk's eyes could be put to good use I thought. We talked things over
and came to the conclusion that the best way to handle this would be to
do it nice and legal through the courts. His Father would be instructed
to call Child Protective Services to come get a kid that he no longer could
handle. By special arrangement (pre-arranged) Sven and Steve would be the
ones to "arrest him" and none too gently either if he resisted. The Judge
insisted on that. We discussed having the locals do it and then turning
him over to our jurisdiction but since I was to be appointed legal guardian
by the courts, it was decided that I shouldn't be part of the arresting
team. Also to keep the number of individuals who had knowledge of what
happened to the kid and where he ended up, the Judge had made arrangements
with CPS for our guys to do the arrest and that went well with them. They
knew the kid and this was pretty much their last hope for him as well.
Being that a Judge was behind it, they were more than happy to do what
we decided.

           The boy's name was Andy. Technically he's still a minor so his
last name is on a need-to-know basis. The transfer would be done on a
Tuesday afternoon and he would be taken from class in school. He would
be called into the Dean's office and being as he was used to being called
there, there probably wouldn't be any trouble until the officers actually
tried to cuff him. It was also decided that this would happen during his
PE class in third period and, to be on the safe side, that one of the coaches
would be asked to escort him from class to make sure he made it to the
Dean's office. His folks could come get his stuff and clean out his gym
and street lockers. I wondered to myself what they would find in the
lockers. Judge Winston agreed to made all the arrangements and we set the
date for Tuesday a week in order for the courts and his parents to complete
the legal paperwork. His parents were sworn to secrecy as well. They did
not and would not know who his court appointed guardian would be although
they knew that Judge Winston not only knew but wholeheartedly approved.
They also knew that they would not see their son again for quite some time.
And if he screwed up, the next time they were likely to see him would be
in the visitation room of some prison. This truly was the extreme in tough
love.

           It went off without a hitch but I was damn glad that Sven had
the foresight to take one of his best leather gags with him. He needed
a whole face type gag, strapped securely in place not only behind at the
back of his neck, but under his jaw and over the top of his head holding
it securely in place. It was not a hood and Andy could see everything
clearly. Sven decided on cuffs and leg irons rather than a straightjacket
since we really weren't sure yet about the kids' size. It was awfully hard
to tell from the picture and it was at least a year old anyway. Sven and
Steve went over in a squad car, complete with full cage and Andy was
securely transported kicking and screaming all the way to the island.

           One of the things we discussed was whether or not he should see
where he was being taken. I felt he should. I also felt he had a right
before we put him in the car to show him the court order turning him over
to me and the order I had drawn up for his arrest as a truant. That one
was slightly less than legal but it was never recorded even though a
certain Judge signed it. I wanted him to see he was on an island so that
he knew that if he tried to escape, that the only way off would be by ferry
or by plane. And that both could be quickly alerted for an escapee if
necessary. That was part of the strategy. I did agree to have him brought
to jail and to be blindfolded from there. I gave Carol the afternoon off
and I took desk duty the rest of the afternoon. Carol knew better than
to ask why and put it to good advantage.

           Sven and Steve brought him in. Steve took the gag out and we
almost regretted that. The kid yelled and screamed bloody murder. Thank
goodness there was no one else in the station or in the cell area. We
photographed him, fingerprinted him and went through booking just as if
he were a criminal but because he was a minor we started a separate file
on him. That was kept at the station - just in case of an escape. A copy
of the truant warrant was placed in there just to cover our ass. In the
space for release I signed for him as legal guardian and sent him home
with Steve and Sven. He was blindfolded this time against his will and
gagged again so that he wouldn't yell during the short walk from the garage
to the house. This kid was going to be a challenge. He definitely was a
fighter.

           When I got home later that night he was securely locked in his
cell, still cuffed and gagged but stark ass naked. All clothing had been
taken from him, allegedly he was told, so that he wouldn't hang himself
and deprive us of the pleasure of doing that. It had been pre arranged
that Mike would be hanged for Andy's benefit later that night complete
with sex. Andy would get to see the whole spectacle, including gang rape
by the three of us. Hans was to be kept locked that week in the cell between
Mike and Andy and all three of them were to be nude for the week. I wanted
Andy to get a good look at that dick of Hans'. For Hans' part, his job
was to be subservient to the three of us and set an example of how Andy
would be expected to behave. Pretty soon Hans would be ordered to feed
that massive cock to Andy - first orally then rectally if the desired
results were not achieved.

           The scene went off without a hitch after dinner. Sven hanged
Mike and it was one of the best hangings we have had in quite a while.
In fact for a moment I was afraid we had gone a bit too far as we had a
little trouble reviving Mike. Although none of us would admit it we were
all frightened there for a while. This was the first time Mike had shit
when he hanged. The game plan was for him to shoot his load. He not only
shot but also ended up shitting on the floor and was starting to piss when
Sven cut him down. Mike and Sven had a signal that they used when Mike
was getting close to passing out but he didn't give it to Sven this time
and Mike went far further into blackness than Sven usually took him as
a result of it. Sven was secretly pissed at Mike and took it out on him
the next day. When Steve and Sven were up with Andy in the shower the next
day I talked to Mike and asked him why he did it. He told me that he wanted
to put on a good show for Andy. That he sure did. I told him never to do
that again. That he almost died doing it. I truly think he was sorry.

           Andy was a basket case the next morning. He had eaten nothing,
nor been offered anything since his "arrest." He was given a standard
prison issue tray of food in his cell, one sweet roll, one carton of milk
poured into a stainless steel cup, and one portion of oatmeal, cold, which
he had to eat with his fingers because we didn't yet trust him with any
utensils. We debated whether to cuff and force feed him like a baby or
not but decided to see how he handled his first meal. He ended up throwing
it against the cell bars. He made a mess of his bed and he slept in it
that night. For dinner he was given an apple, a banana and a cup of water.
Steve emptied his slop bucket at the same time. I was getting worried since
it was now going on 36 hours without him eating anything. I told him he
would be given another identical breakfast tray in the morning and that
if he pulled the same stunt with it that he did this morning, he would
be cuffed and force fed baby food and oatmeal. And if we had to give him
fluids intravenously we'd do that too. When we left Hans did his part and
tried to convince Andy that we really would do that too.

          Apparently Hans got the message through. Andy was kept gagged
when he wasn't eating and was kept in cuffs at all times except when we
tried to let him eat. He was cuffed in the shower.

           We waited until Saturday to try to clean him up the next time.
This time we brought shaving cream and tied him to the St. Andrew's cross
after some difficulty. We left him gagged as we shaved his pubes, taking
away his manhood. We did the same to what little hair he had in his pits.
Finally it was time to remove the gag and do his head. He cussed like a
sailor and we told him to hold still or he'd get cut and after a little
blood to convince him that we meant business he quit struggling and let
me do the job. I decided to leave the eyebrows for now. It gave me something
to bargain with later.

           We decided not to let him lose his virginity right away. After
watching Mike get raped that first night I wanted to give Andy time to
think about his ass. I could also use that to advantage later. Hans talked
to him several times about sex once we had removed the gag. He asked Andy
if he had ever shot a load and Andy boasted that not only had he shot a
load but had had sex with women too. We knew that to be a lie but said
nothing. Andy had the biggest boner I had ever seen on a kid when we hanged
Mike and it was dripping big time for a sixteen-year old stud.

           The Judge was curious as hell about how things were going but
did his best to leave us alone. As a courtesy I called him and gave him
a progress report. So far there hadn't been much progress other than the
fact we didn't have to gag the kid any more. Both Hans and Mike threatened
to personally hang him if he kept yelling and Andy knew that they both
meant it and would do it.

          One day Andy got an attitude attack about something. I don't
remember what it was but that night Andy had his first flogging. There
wasn't a place on his back, butt or legs that wasn't raw by the time he
was done and there were numerous small cuts which we left for Hans to
minister to with alcohol. Andy slept as best he could on his stomach that
night. He was even more defiant the next day and Hans pleaded with him
to give it up - that it would only get worse. We all knew that. Andy just
had to learn it the hard way.

           Andy went up on the rack again that night; this time he got his
front side whipped, dick and balls too. This time I did the honors and
with the very first blow I aimed for the nipples and I was far from gentle.
True to form when the first blow landed Andy's cock shot straight up (as
was mine). And by the time I was done, he was almost to the point of climax.
I wanted this to be punishment so I didn't let him cum. He was warned that
if he so much as even touched his dick he would get a beating that would
make that night seem like child's play. Steve was to make sure he didn't
touch his dick, even to piss. If his aim was off, he was to kneel over
the bucket. It was also the night he broke. Again Steve played the good
cop to my bad cop and comforted him much of the night. He pointed out the
errors and suggested how he could avoid further beatings. I have to admit,
I held nothing back when I laid into the little fucker. It was pretty brutal
but that's what it took; you don't get an elephant's attention with a
fly-swatter.

           One thing we never did was kid him about his homosexuality but
we did point it out to him. We told him that we were gay too and from that
standpoint he'd get no special favors nor would he be punished because
he was gay. To make the point, the rest of us had sex where he could see
each of us but was not allowed to join in. Sex was a reward to be earned.
When I had sex with Hans in front of Andy I made it clear to Andy that
this was Hans' reward. Andy was no dummy and quickly got the message. The
first time Andy was caught masturbating, he was handcuffed until we could
get him in a chastity belt. When he had to piss, too bad. It took him several
tries and weeks to learn that lesson. Finally he stopped jacking off but
like any kid in puberty, he needed to get off bad. That Saturday night
we all went to the dungeon and let him take part in a prisoner's circle
jerk. He was locked in his cell but we allowed Bill and Mike to take part
with him. Andy was allowed to jack off Mike while Bill took care of Andy's
needs. From then on, Andy was allowed that form of relief once a week if
he behaved himself. I also left it up to Hans to allow Andy to fondle Hans
from time to time. Andy loved that dick as I knew he would. He was not
allowed to suck it though. He would have to earn that right.

          It was the end of October. It had taken a full three weeks to
get to this point but I felt progress was being made and told the Judge
so. He seemed pleased when we discussed this at our regular monthly
luncheon. This one was held over soup and sandwiches in his office which
Hans had thoughtfully prepared for us earlier in the day. It was time to
begin Andy's next phase of improvement, his self esteem. I made it quite
clear to his Honor that Andy was far from broken but, like the army, you
had to reward as well as punish. You had to challenge as well and little
challenges with little rewards could yield great dividends. It was time
to start putting some muscle on the kid. It was also time to let his hair
start growing back on his head but nowhere else. Andy hadn't earned the
right to manhood yet. From now on he would get a haircut every other week
and it would be a crewcut.

           That evening we changed shifts at work. I took the evening shift
and Steve had days. Sven still had Graveyard. Since the dungeon was always
lit artificially, Andy had no way of telling time. From now on his (and
Mikes) waking hours would be when Steve was off duty. I proposed to Steve
that one night he be locked in the cell with Andy, both naked so that Andy
could have a chance to feel Steve's muscles and admire his tone. He agreed
to that and the next morning Andy had a smile on his face I had never seen
before. I don't know how far Steve had allowed the exploration to go, but
I suspected it went further than I had planned it to. Anyway whatever had
happened, worked. When I came down the next morning there were Steve and
Andy both pumping out pushups together, naked as jailbirds.

           Steve helped correct his form by tying a 1 X 12 to his back and
legs until Andy got the hang of it. He did a set every hour on the hour
during his waking hours. I arranged for a wall clock to be installed
strictly for that purpose. He started with sets of ten and then every four
hours he upped it by a pushup, gradually increased it to sets of twelve,
then fifteen and so on until he got to twenty-five. Then he went back to
twelve and started pumping out two sets every hour, increasing them by
one every day. Within a month he was pumping out two sets of twenty five
every hour on the hour. His chest started to develop just a little tone
but Andy was quick to notice it and took pride in it. Steve started to
work his tits when he worked out with him and let Andy feel and squeeze
Steve's pecs for encouragement. No matter how hard Andy squeezed, Steve
would take it without flinching. Andy worked Steve's tits especially hard
but to no avail. This made Andy more determined and before long we couldn't
hold Andy back. He was obsessed with PT. Steve got him a Navy Seals workout
tape and together they worked out to that tape for hours at a time - except
for the running which they did in place. I was not about to let Andy out
of the dungeon except for his daily bath which he always took under police
escort and without privacy. He kept himself shaved now and even looked
forward to getting his crewcut every other Saturday.

          We did have one problem though, Zits. The curse of the teenager.
It was necessary to take him to a doctor one day because a couple of
blackheads got infected and the sores were getting ugly. At least all marks
from his whippings and beatings had long since disappeared. Andy was
obviously white as a ghost, having gotten no sun. I also had the problem
that he only had the clothes we had kidnapped him in. Hans was given a
tape measure and told to get his sizes and to take the car and go to K-mart
and get him outfitted. Andy, of course, didn't leave the house.

           The next day I took Andy to Dr. Johnson's office (I had scheduled
an appointment through Child Protective Services - that way I could take
him there in cuffs) Andy was dressed in Jeans and a gray sweatshirt. Hans,
being creative, also bought a stencil kit and had stenciled the sweatshirt
front and back with the letters CPS, and Andy's name on the front, last
name first of course. Andy had also bought a jeans jacket and stenciled
that as well. Andy had been "had". There was no way he was going to escape
unnoticed, nor would it look like it was anything out of the ordinary when
he was taken in by a uniformed officer. Also it was a reminder to Andy
that he was my prisoner. The impact was devastating and worked better than
had been expected. Just when he thought he was making inroads with Steve,
I turned around and was the bad cop again.

           I took the cuffs off but insisted on remaining in the room with
the two of them. Previously the doctor had been shown court documents which
gave me legal custody. Dr. Johnson gave him a full examination. I also
asked the doctor to run a standard blood test for sexually transmitted
diseases as well as a full blood workup so I had a medical baseline should
the need ever arise. The doctor sent in a nurse but I had to cuff and
physically restrain Andy in order to get the blood sample. He hated needles
and that gave me ideas for further punishment should the need arise. Dr
Johnson gave him several prescriptions as well as recommending some over
the counter medications. And he told us to get the boy into a tanning booth
every two weeks or so during the winter. I don't know if he meant that
for medical purposes or to be a friend to Andy for future visits. But it
was Doctor's orders and some how I'd have to comply.

           November passed relatively uneventfully. Andy was coming
around and starting to develop nicely. He still had an attitude problem,
and occasionally got cocky except Steve was around. He never mouthed off
to Steve and I think the two of them were developing some sort of bond
as big and little brother. Steve slept in the dungeon more than once during
November.

          By the end of November Andy was really starting to look good.
His acne was under control and well on its way towards being cleared up.
I still had not done anything about the tanning yet. The only place on
the island with tanning booths was the gym where Sven worked out. And I
had real reservations about taking him into the gym in his CPS clothing.
           Steve left all of us a note telling us to modify our schedules
and be present in the dungeon, dressed appropriately, where Andy would
demonstrate his fitness progress to us coming Friday night. So the first
Friday in December was put aside. Steve had promised him something that
he was keeping from the rest of us. Both of them worked out totally naked
but Steve was in his Master's harness. It was similar to Svens, but had
thicker straps. Andy of course, worked out totally naked, his dick hitting
the cold concrete as he pumped out seventy-five near perfect pushups. Andy
performed exceptionally well with all the other exercises they did
together. I just about shit when I saw that Steve had oiled him and as
they worked out and sweated side-by-side. The two of them positively
glowed. I know why Steve did it, but the oil on Andy's skin was the last
thing he needed for his acne. I kept my fingers crossed the next couple
of days. But damn, the kid did look good that evening. That night Andy
spent the night in Steve's room for the first time. I didn't ask if he
slept in bed or on the floor. I left that up to the two of them. Something
told me however that after they had showered together that Andy would not
be sleeping on the floor that night.

           The following morning Steve took the clippers and gave him a
Marine high and tight instead of his usual crewcut. The hair on top was
short but you could see the effect and with another two weeks of growth
it would look pretty damn good and a month from now he'd look like a Marine.

           When he brought Andy down from the bathroom for inspection I
noticed he looked different but couldn't put my finger on it immediately.
Then I noticed the haircut. The only comment I made was that for the first
time since he arrived here, he looked like a man. I couldn't have said
anything that would have made him more pleased. I was tempted to hug him,
but being the "bad cop," didn't dare.

          Steve had promised him the high and tight on condition that he
learned to take orders military style. The next few days Steve taught him
how to salute, the proper way to address his seniors, how to stand at
attention and at parade rest, and how to sit. The dungeon was not big enough
for teaching him to drill and even so there was no way in hell I was going
to allow him to take possession of a weapon, even unloaded. Steve and I
damn near came to blows over that one. It took a few days of drill and
assistance but Andy managed to get his etiquette down and the kid got to
the point that he could throw a snappy salute.

           It was getting on towards Christmas. It had been three months
now since Andy was given to my (our) trust. I had hoped that Andy really
had had a change of heart but somehow I suspected this was all a front
and a game until he could escape. I just wasn't sure. Christmas was going
to be a difficult time for him and I hoped that everything Steve had done
would not be undone. I don't know how his previous Christmas's had been
but I had no intention of spoiling him. This was tough love. But he would
get love on Christmas?not necessarily a lot of gifts, but he would get
love.

          His Honor and I had a long talk a few days before Christmas.
We talked about a lot of things, all concerning Andy. Back when we took
him prisoner I made the mistake of showing him his arrest papers. At the
time I thought it had been a good idea to get it through his head that
all of this was nice and legal. I had stupidly forgotten that his own
Grandfather had signed them. I just hoped that he was either so upset at
the time that he had not noticed or had forgotten. I was very concerned
therefore how Andy would react in the presence of his Grandfather. Would
there be contempt?

           We talked it over and decided the best way to do this would be
for his Grandfather to come over the day before Christmas and to leave
Andy alone with just the five of us on Christmas day itself. His Honor
would join us for dinner. All prisoners in the basement would be allowed
topside. All the prisoners would be allowed wine with the meal, Andy
included. It was time to teach him to drink responsibly. I didn't want
him turned over to the Marines not knowing how to hold his liquor. Hans
and Mike would be given some too although it had been at least three years
since they had had anything to drink. The idea was to treat Andy like an
adult for the first time.

           His Honor liked it. We talked about his giving Andy a gift and
decided that he could leave him something under the tree when he left.
He was not to hug Andy or do anything to treat him like a child. We discussed
shaking hands and felt that would be appropriate should the situation
present itself. Judge Winston would treat Andy like an adult, something
he had never done before. We even decided what Andy's gift from the Judge
would be - a copy of "Semper Fi! - The History of the United States Marine
Corps." I arranged to get Andy a plain white T-shirt to wear to dinner
that night, rather than his CPS / prison one. I also knew that Steve was
going to give him a full set of BDUs and combat boots as his gift. The
rest of us would give him other things. His big gift if you could call
it that, was to be his BDUs. Sven was going to give him a set of gym clothes
so that we could take him in and get him tanned up. We discussed getting
him a membership in the gym too but decided against that for now. Hans
and Mike wanted to give him something too but they refused to tell me what
they planned to give him. That concerned me. The rest of this was carefully
orchestrated and I didn't want any surprises that would spoil the effect
of the BDU's that Steve was to give him. They both assured me that they
wouldn't steal his thunder so I left well enough alone. That left only
my gift to him. I was torn between getting him a second set of jeans, a
sweater or something like that. Something functional and ordinary but
needed. I really wanted to get him a scanner so he could follow what the
rest of us did every day for our profession - so he could hear us talk,
follow (hopefully) with interest the things we did. Let him hear the
urgency in our voices when we were possibly in trouble or things were not
right. Let him learn to sense trouble. But I didn't dare. That would be
stealing Steve's thunder. In the end I decided to get him a heavy jacket
and jeans. And as his legal guardian, I also bought him a six-pack of beer.
I could do that legally as long as he consumed it within the house and
under my supervision. I had hoped that I was sending him a signal that
I too, was treating him like an adult.

           The Christmas Eve party went far better than I had any right
to expect. His Honor showed up at 3:00 as expected and we all had a social
glass of sherry before dinner. It was fun to watch Andy. If he had been
exposed to liquor before it certainly wasn't wine. It was obvious that
he was not used to the sweet-sour taste and tried to drink it like soda
pop. His Honor quietly and discreetly suggested to Andy that he might pefer
to sip it instead. We didn't have to hear his Honor to know what he was
saying. Secretly I smiled. Hans outdid himself. We had a golden turkey
with all the trimmings, chestnut stuffing, fresh cranberry sauce, whipped
potatoes and peas, and for dessert pumpkin pie with whipped cream and
minced pie with brandy sauce.

          I thought about giving Andy the responsibility of carving the
bird, but decided that would probably embarrass him so I asked Judge
Winston if he would do the honors. I had bought several bottles of wine
including a sweet champagne mainly for Andy's benefit. I was also secretly
pleased that Mike and Hans went easy on the alcohol. They each had a couple
of glasses and considering that they had never had any formal training
in social graces, did exceptionally well. I couldn't have been happier.

           When dinner was over and Hans and Mike were clearing the table,
the rest of us went into the living room and made light conversation. Bless
Andy, he stood at parade rest until he was invited to sit. He answered
all questions with a polite "Yes, Sir" or whatever was appropriate, always
beginning or ending it with a respectful "Sir." I noticed he stood behind
and to the right of Steve when Steve was standing and sat on Steve's right
at other times.

           His honor brought out cigars and offered them around, Andy
included. Andy looked at Steve quizzically. "Go ahead if you want," Steve
allowed. I didn't know that Andy had ever smoked although being a troubled
teenager I shouldn't have been surprised. I suspect he only had smoked
cigarettes though.

           Andy had not had a cigarette since he had been here?in fact the
thought had never occurred to me in the first place being as no one here
but his Honor smoked. It was clear that Andy was struggling with this.
The Judge gave me a wink and I had an idea that Judge Winston had an idea.
I decided to play along.

           "Perhaps being that we are the only ones who smoke, maybe the
two of us should step outside and smoke them on the porch" Judge Winston
suggested. It caught me off guard but he gave me one of those "I know what
I'm doing" stares and I let the matter pass. He put his hand lightly and
fatherly on Andy's shoulder, gave him a cigar and took him outside. It
was not condescending at all and done ten nervous minutes later, the two
of them returned. I noticed that Andy had barely smoked any of his. He
was holding it but it had gone out and he seemed content not to ask to
re-light it.

           The Judge stayed another half hour and then took his leave.
After it was all over, Hans and Mike cleaned up the kitchen and the dishes
and set the table for breakfast for the next morning. Andy was clearly
troubled by something; whether it was the loneliness of the season or what
I didn't know but right about then I would have given my left nut to know
what the Judge said to him on the porch. I also decided this was the time
for us to get close to one another. I lit a fire in the fireplace, got
out some more sherry, poured a small glass all the way around and passed
it out. We all sat there absorbed in our own thoughts, looking into the
fire. Somehow it seemed fitting not to disturb things. I originally had
other plans - to get into leather and go into the basement and make love
but it seemed totally out of place now. This was not a leather sort of
night.

           During dinner and afterwards, we had Christmas music playing
quietly in the background. The fire had been going a good half hour when
the CD ended and I elected not to change it. Hans and Mike were the first
to leave. Mike would be free tonight to spend the night with Hans or
elsewhere as he chose. He dared not leave the house though for his safety
so I wasn't worried about his going anywhere. As the fire died down, I
put another couple of logs on and then took my leave as well. Andy was
obviously upset, maybe on the verge of tears and I decided to leave him
to the comfort of Steve. When I left Steve had been holding Andy and now
they were seated on the floor, his back cradled against Steve's chest and
his head against Steve's. Andy's eyes were moist and I nudged Sven and
we quietly left both left the two of them in front of the fire alone in
their silent thoughts.

           Christmas morning broke dark and late. Snow had fallen. We had
no prisoners in the jail for weeks now and I had forwarded the phones to
the house. We had done no patrols that morning and would do none for the
next twenty four hours unless we got a call from 911. This was the pattern
that we had followed on the island for years. Once tourist season ended
our crime rate went to next to zero and the only calls we got were usually
for accidents or for medical assistance or some elderly couple had gone
to bed and only one of them had awakened the next morning. Our patrols
consisted mainly on checking on vacation residences, that they hadn't been
broken into, and just doing the long lonely job of keeping a guarded eye
on things. Emergencies notwithstanding we would get a holiday as well.
It was almost eight o'clock before it was truly light. The sky was still
overcast and all our neighbors were inside opening their presents or
sleeping in or whatever it was they had elected to do. Steve had carried
Andy up to bed and the two of them were still intertwined in each other's
arms, Andy's head resting soundly on Steve's hairy chest, his mouth at
Steve's nipple. I could only guess what might have transpired in the
intervening hours of darkness. Andy's back was also developing muscles
and his shoulders were starting to fill out. His body was pleasant to look
at as he lay there sound asleep. Hans and Mike were still downstairs. I
tried to remain quiet as I made a pot of coffee. Shortly Sven joined me,
naked as usual. He grabbed my dick and squeezed it good morning and gave
me a hug, then poured himself a cup of coffee and went back upstairs to
get dressed. He reappeared wearing jeans and a sweatshirt, setting the
casual tone of the morning. I wasn't sure how to dress or handle things
after last night. I kind of wanted Steve to set the tone. But I went back
upstairs, put on a pair of jeans and slippers and a T-shirt. It was cold
and by the time I got back down, Sven had a fire started in the fireplace
and soon the chill had disappeared. Hans and Mike next made their
appearance. I was going to chew Mike out for coming topside without
permission but being Christmas I didn't have the heart. We'd go back to
routine tomorrow. Hans got out some sweet rolls and fruit while we awaited
Steve and Andy. We decided to let them sleep in. It was obvious to each
of us last night that something had happened and we should let things
develop on their own.

          It was near ten o'clock before we heard the two of them stirring
and it was a good half hour before either of them blessed us with their
appearance. Steve was wearing his BDU pants and nothing else, save for
a leather armband he had placed on his left biceps. I had never seen him
do that before. Andy was in the bathroom. A few minutes Andy came down,
totally naked except for a matching armband on his right biceps. Quickly
Hans and Sven drew the blinds. Andy took his place behind Steve at parade
rest. I don't know whose idea that was but I said, "Alright you two
lovebirds, knock it off and lets get breakfast." They BOTH came to
attention and barked out a snappy " SIR, Yes SIR!" before they headed for
the kitchen. I told Andy to go put some jeans on at least. He looked at
Steve who simply said "Permission granted." Both Mike and Hans were
grinning from ear to ear.

           "What's so funny?" I asked. "Nothing" Mike replied. "It looks
like Andy and Steve are enjoying their Christmas gifts a little early,
that's all." "What Christmas gifts?" I replied. "Where do you think they
got the armbands?" That was our gift to the two of them. We gave them to
Steve yesterday and we told him what they were so that he could open them
when the time was right. They obviously did that last night sometime."
Hans couldn't have looked more pleased and Mike was a happy camper too.
I had to admit it probably couldn't have come at a better time. And right
about then I could have kissed Hans for his sensitivity and awareness.
He couldn't have picked a more perfect gift for the two of them.

           After breakfast we settled down to the serious business of
opening gifts. We left Steve's to Andy for last. He might not have been
surprised. He could feel it was clothing and he had got plenty of that
from the rest of us. He was delighted when he opened them and saw the BDUs,
but when he put them on he was disappointed that he didn't fit very well.
Secretly I knew that Steve had chosen wisely and that there was a method
to his madness. Steve had them custom tailored to what ever specifications
that Steve had in mind for Andy and it was going to be Andy's job to fill
into them. I never accused Steve of being dumb. It was only a matter of
how Steve was going to explain that to him. I suspected he already had
it all figured out.

           The pants fit quite a bit better than the shirt so for now Andy
put the pants on and left the shirt off. This also allowed him to show
off his armband. Not to be outdone, Steve went upstairs and to everyone's
surprise, pulled out his own set of fully tailored BDUs. They fit him like
a glove; accentuating his chest, drawn in at the waist, so there were no
seams. Andy gasped in astonishment. Before him stood Steve. The uniform
was flawless. His boots were spit shined to mirror perfection. Frankly
it took my breath away. And then Steve did the unthinkable. He gave Andy
a K-bar knife.

          I was quietly burning but said nothing. Steve knew how I felt
about Andy's having a weapon but Steve also had the situation defused.
"Andy, the knife is yours but while you are in custody and in our care,
I will keep it for you." I silently gave a sigh of relief but I was still
tempted to kill Steve. This will be yours when you get out of the Marines."
He unsheathed the knife and I gasped. Engraved and filled in black, was
the Marines' Emblem and Andy's name. He certainly would never leave that
at the scene of any crime. It was hard to remain mad at Steve for long.
Andy took it in his hands and the tears came at once. There was no stopping
it this time and before long there wasn't a dry eye in the house.

          It wasn't tears of joy unfortunately. It was tears of shame.
The one thing we had all overlooked was some way for him to give us
something. Well, that was all but Steve. He had given Steve his
unconditional love and we all knew that. But as for the rest of us, he
had nothing to give us in return. Or so he thought.

          Hans became a full fledged certified hero that morning. Andy
hadn't said a thing to any of us when the tears started flowing. Hans nudged
Steve and took Andy downstairs. It was quite a while before the two of
them returned, Andy beaming from ear to ear and Hans following behind like
a husband doing his wife's bidding with the charge card and carrying the
packages.

           "Now? Andy announced, "We are going to have Christmas!" With
that, he took the presents from Hans and presented each of us with our
own. In reality Andy had no further idea what was in them. This was all
of Hans' doing. Hans opened his first. It was one of those joke stocking
covers for a man's dick with a sack at the end to tie around the balls
to keep the balls warm. We'd all seen one of these at one time or another
but the laughter when Hans opened it was warm and genuine. Andy seemed
especially pleased. Hans hugged him and squeezed Andy's tits and told him
that Andy would get the honors of making sure it fit properly later on.
Andy asked Hans to give him another one please. Mike got his next. It
contained a beautiful leather flogger with Mike's name engraved on the
leather handle and a stainless steel cock ring and ball spreader. There
was a new set of tit clamps too - the new devilishly sadistic type with
the alligator clamps that could be screwed down. Those little puppies
could really hurt and could even draw blood. Mike loved them. Hans gave
Andy all the remaining packages at the same time and he took the hint.
"For you guys" he said. "And added appropriately, "Thank you, Sirs." When
I opened mine I was aghast. Hans must have told him what was in those or
Andy wouldn't have said what he did. There was a gym type half T-shirt,
sweatshirt gray in color, with the Island Police Department Logo over the
left breast. On the right it simply read in appropriate size print
"Correctional Staff" and below that it had our names Officer (name). It
was wrapped around a wooden fraternity paddle. Each was almost identical.
At the top by the handle our Department Logo had been laser engraved and
below that, our names had been engraved, each on his own paddle. The
obverse side had been inscribed "Juvenile Correctional Facility" and the
motto "Spare the Rod and Spoil the Child", and below that, Andy's name
and the year.

           He stripped off his pants and, taking them in his arms, folded
them neatly before announcing: "If Sirs would be pleased, I would suggest
you try those out in the dungeon." And he went downstairs where Hans cuffed
him to the St. Andrew's Cross.

  We spent the rest of the afternoon downstairs.

THE ISLAND -5-
( by Greg Johnson )

           Christmas fell on a Wednesday that year. Even though I had seen
his Honor only seventy two hours before, we felt it appropriate to have
our usual monthly meeting anyway. Carol had taken the week off. Grant,
the other full time Rookie, was on desk.

           I briefed the Judge about the Christmas activities. It was
obvious things had gone exceedingly well, certainly more so than I had
any right to expect in only three months but after Christmas night, when
Steve and Andy made love all night long, I knew that there was no way that
Andy would run away now. I also knew that it was time to make some other
decisions. Legally they were mine to make but I had a few novel ideas and
I wanted to run them by the Judge.

           Here was a boy, quickly becoming a man. He had been out of school
for three months but that was probably the least of my concerns right now.
I wanted Judge Winston's concurrence on my plan for the next few months.
And most importantly, I needed another quasi-legal favor of his Honor.
Since technically Andy was no longer in school, he could not get a drivers'
license until he turned eighteen. I suspected he already had driven a car
before, legally or otherwise (probably otherwise) but certainly didn't
have much experience. What I wanted to do was to call in some more favors
from my buddies at the Academy. I wanted to send Andy off island for two
weeks on his own?to the Academy. I wanted him to learn to drive and other
than the fact that I had no idea how much experience he had ever had behind
the wheel, I had an idea that it might be interesting to see what could
be done to train a driver right from square one, to go through the Police
driving program. I proposed to the Judge that I send him and Sven to a
commercial driving school out in California the Bondurant school of
driving where they teach men how to drive race cars. They also have classes
to improve the driving skills of ordinary drivers. I had already made a
few discreet phone calls, identifying myself as a police chief and talked
to the folks out there. They were most interested in my proposal. I wanted
them to teach him the fundamentals of driving then I wanted to turn him
over to the Academy to teach him how to REALLY drive. I wanted him to spend
some time away from Steve as well. While they loved each other like
brothers, when the time came for Andy to join the Marines, it was going
to be a lot tougher if they had been constantly together all the time.
Andy very well might not want to leave. He was going to have to learn to
associate with others and Sven would be just the right man to both keep
him in line and to help wean him away from Steve. I told his Honor that
I also had a selfish motive in doing this?I wanted Andy hooked n Police
work as a vocation when he got out of the Marines and I wanted him to come
back here, thinking of the Island not as a place of imprisonment, but a
place of refuge and sanctuary. Too often even I had got island fever. But
once off the island, I knew it was the only place I truly belonged. It
ran at a different pace.

           The Judge listened to all of this and chuckled to himself. "Let
me guess, you have got the Boy Scouts to fund this as part of their Post
Explorer program. You know, if you do it for him, others are going to want
the same for their son." While I hadn't thought about the Scouts funding
Andy's training, I hadn't thought about the precedence it would set either.
The Judge had a good point. There went that idea, good as it was. The Judge
was the one who came to the rescue. "Lets run this a slightly different
way - through CPS. Propose to them a formal training plan for Andy, making
this a part of it, also a contract with the Marines, and put the whole
plan in writing, including bringing him on to your police force with
further training when he gets out of the Marines at the Academy. Put down
milestones then sign it off as his legal guardian."

           "Has anything like that ever been done before?" I asked. "Hell,
I don't know?What you've done already for him has cut new ground in
uncharted waters to mix my metaphors." The Judge intoned, looking intently
at the ash on his cigar "and again I'm sure that we'll never ever be able
to talk about how you've gotten him where he is today other than to call
the program "Tough Love" or something like that. Hmmm?kind of an
interesting play on words if you get my drift." I smiled knowing exactly
what the Judge meant. CCPS was going to have some questions that would
best be left unanswered other than to say "Look at the results, stupid."
It just might work.

           The Judge opened a state directory and looked for some listings.
Let me get to work on it and I'll see what I can do. I'll call you in a
couple of days and let you know what I can work out if anything but don't
get your hopes up. In the meantime I have some more things for you to think
about. Have you considered putting him back in school since he's no threat
to leave the island? "Yes," I replied, "I've given a lot of thought to
that and have decided it's a bad idea for now." "Oh? Why? Please enlighten
me." the Judge said. "Peer pressure for one. He only has about a year of
school left. He's going to have to make new friends and coming into the
class this late in the year might be difficult. I want to leave him out
until next fall at the earliest. In fact I have been thinking about seeing
if the Marines will do us a special favor and grant him a waiver and admit
him early, under my approval as legal guardian of course." "Of course."
The judge echoed. "That shouldn't be too hard. I'm sure the recruiter can
pull that one off." I continued: "One of the things I want to do is to
have him tested to see where he stands in his schooling. I can get that
from the schools and give it to him at home but I thought that it might
be a better idea if I were to bring him down here to the courthouse and
have it done here either in your chambers or one of the offices. That way
it would make it seem more official and important." The Judge thought about
that for a minute. Finally he said, "I like that. But ? he paused, "before
you get your hopes up for the Marines taking him, is he going to get kicked
out for being gay? Have you thought about that?"

          "No, I haven't... not directly. But it's about time that he's
going to have to learn to bend the truth on occasion. Thank goodness for
"Don't ask, don't tell.""

           The Judge reflected: "well he has some pretty good role models
when it comes to don't ask, don't tell. Besides that he dresses like a
man, walks like a man and talks like a man and as long as he hangs out
with the right sort of buddies like Sven does with his friends, then all
will be fine. Yes, the more I think about it, he needs to start spending
some time with Sven. Your idea to have Sven go with him out to California
is looking even more promising."

           I don't want to wait an entire month before we get back together
though. You get the testing lined up as soon as school starts and I'll
provide the place. Either that or do it down at your office but I agree
with you, a little indirect family influence might be better. Let's do
it here. Make it for a week from Thursday and I'll personally monitor the
administration of the test. That should impress the guys over at the School
District Office. If you need a name of someone to contact we can get that
from CPS. And go ahead and start making arrangements both with the Academy
and with California. Lets try this out on our own. I'll split the cost
with you and pay for the California stuff as would any concerned
Grandfather. You get him into the Academy when he gets back from California.
We'll talk again as soon as his test results are back.
          With that our meeting was over.

           Things went together both quickly and smoothly. The test
results showed that he was about a year behind where he should be
academically already. That worried the Judge. We decided to put some more
thought to his schooling but continued with the driving classes. Both of
us thought that was an excellent idea. Judge Winston also wondered out
loud if he shouldn't spend some time in court seeing how Justice worked.
I wasn't so sure that was a good idea. We had purposely rewritten our own
definition of Justice and I wasn't sure it was a good idea to muddy those
waters. He agreed.

          The first class in California that we could get him into was
in March and the next class at the Academy would be mid April which
dovetailed nicely. In the meantime Steve kept up Andy's PT and he was
really beginning to build some mass. Steve and I discussed getting Andy
some boxing lessons or Karate or something but decided to leave that to
the Marines. We didn't want him to get into any habits that he would have
to unlearn.

           His Honor and I conferred several times in those months and
while Andy was away. We decided on his return from the Academy that we'd
get him a private tutor somehow. But we needed a special sort of man and
neither one of us knew quite where to turn to find him.

           The answer came from the most unlikely of places, the Marine
Corps recruiter. While discussing Andy's particular situation with them,
with a few things left out of course, I brought up the fact that when he
would be applying he would only have a tenth-grade education. He said that
the Marines had a series of GED programs, some self-learning and schooling
programs to get them ready. He would do me a favor and get me years 10,
11, and 12 before he enlisted. The Sargent made it clear that this was
not something that was usually done and I made it clear I fully understood
the ramifications of that. Police departments are not immune to the
politics of reality. I knew someday I would probably be releasing an errant
Marine from my lock-up to the custody of the Marine Corp or something like
that - that was how the game was played.

           Two days later the materials arrived and the Sargent dropped
them off at the office. I was out on patrol and he asked that I give him
a call when I returned. I did and he asked me to bring Andy by sometime
in the next couple of days. He needed Andy to take some tests and to sign
some papers indicating his willingness to apply. It was not an enlistment
he told me, but since he was underage, there were special procedures that
had to be observed and it was going to take these to get him started. He'd
also have to be sent to Boston to take a physical?actually it would be
to Fort Devin, just north of Boston. We'd schedule that for June. Now the
wonderful news. Sargent Gunnerson had arranged a tutor for him as well.
It seemed that one of the more promising recruiting posts was always resort
areas where the well to do took their just graduated offspring for the
summer. When summer ended, it was time to go into the military or get a
job. There were fat recruiting opportunities on the island in the summer
and Sarge was being sent help. His number two man was studying to be a
high school math teacher when he got out of the service. For the summer
Andy would spend his days in the back room of the recruiting station
getting tutored. That would happen no matter whether Andy's enlistment
papers were approved or not - I had Sarge's word on that.

           By the end of February Andy's future in the Marines had been
mapped out to everyone's satisfaction. He would go in sometime in late
September of this year. This would give him all summer to catch up on his
studies and hopefully get his study habits to the point he could work on
his own and finish his GED after basic. He would be assigned to an advanced
infantry company for advanced weapons training and additional physical
conditioning before being sent to MP school as his specialty. I had also
secretly hoped that he'd get some sort of exposure to some special forces
tactical units as well but Sargent Gunnerson made it quite clear that he
couldn't begin to promise that - that was far to far away but he'd note
it on the application form. I had envisioned our fist SWAT unit on the
island when he returned from Active Duty. Sarge pointed out to the three
of us (myself, Steve and Andy) that while the obligation would be for six
years, if he went into Police service upon departure from the Marines,
and, if I could put that in writing, that Andy could be back on the island
in as few as three years six months but that he would have summer camp
duty and reserves for the remaining three years. Sarge and Steve hit it
off from the moment they first laid eyes on each other. Once a Marine,
always a Marine. Steve was introduced as Andy's "military advisor" so to
speak. Sarge knew instantly that he was not going to be sorry for this
deal. Andy was going to make it with flying colors and Sarge could see
a commendation coming for this one. The day we had taken Andy down to meet
with Sargent Gunderson and to take his tests and complete the preliminary
paperwork, Steve had told him NOT to salute anyone but to do the Yessir
Nossir routine and to stand at attention unless otherwise instructed.
Sarge was dutifully impressed. Sarge gave him a Marine T-shirt and a pair
of running shorts on the spot and sent him into the bathroom to change.
Andy had been instructed to bring tennis shoes with him. Hans' had panicked
when he was told to get him some running shoes. There was only one day
to get them broken in. Andy was going to have to suffer through this one
with barely broken-in shoes. Sarge took him out on first a jog, and then
a full blown five mile run around the island. Andy held his own?but his
feet were sore when he got back and Sarge knew it. Andy said nothing -
didn't complain. As we were leaving, it was Steve who said to Sarge: "New
Shoes". Sarge smiled: "Thought so. You've trained him well. He'll have
no problem. Basic will be a piece of cake."

          March seventh came and Sven and Andy boarded the island commuter
to Hartford. There they connected through Chicago to San Francisco. Sven
rented a car for their drive to some place called Sears' Point where the
classes would be held.

           Ten days later they returned changed men. I have never seen Andy
so confident. He positively beamed when they got off the plane. And he
had a racing helmet to show for his efforts. For Sven's part he had a good
time. Andy had been forced to study double hours - four to six hours for
driving school at night and another four to six hours on his GED work.
Sven saw to it. He got four hours of sleep a night but that was enough.
He was running on adrenaline and could catch up on some sleep when he got
to the house.

           It didn't seem right to return Andy to his cell when he got back
from California but there wasn't really any other place to put him. Sven
decided that the cell was not appropriate considering Andy's performance
and behavior while on the trip. He volunteered to "hot bunk" with Andy,
although I suspected that they were probably going to end up doing more
sharing of the same bunk at the same time than actually hot bunking. I
decided to use this as a further bit of leverage. I agreed to let them
hot bunk provided that Andy accelerate his academic studies. They both
agreed. Like I said earlier, Andy was about a year behind in his studies
when the test was taken. There was no way that he would be able to catch
up in the six months remaining before he went in the Marines, especially
not with the rest of the program we had in mind - but - just but - if we
could concentrate on the things that would make a big difference to him
in the service, well he really didn't need social studies and history right
about now, but he would need them for his GED. What he needed was math
and English. With the approval of his tutor, we concentrated on that and
decided if we could bring him up to graduation levels in those two subjects
by the time September arrived, we would have achieved a minor miracle which
Andy could finish on his own.

          So from now on Andy concentrated on four subjects: Physical
Conditioning, (he loved that and Steve had trained him well - if Andy had
any spare time left over, that's where he'd spend it), Practical Living
(things like how to save money, how to drive a car, how to stay out of
trouble, how to drink sociably and the like), Math and English (and in
that order.)

           As for the staying out of trouble part, I had an idea I wanted
to try. The next time I had a delinquent in lockup I would take Andy down
and lock him in the cell with the other guy for a couple of days and see
how he handled it. This was somewhat risky. There was no question that
Andy could defend himself should it come to violence; in fact my concern
was that Andy might do too good a job defending himself should it come
to that. I need not have feared because Andy's muscles and physique were
quite intimidating and when the time came, his cellmate gave him no trouble
at all. I purposely did not strip my juvenile miscreant of his drugs (which
I knew he had) when I put Andy in with him. In fact I wanted Andy to be
tempted. After a day or so, that's exactly what happened but Andy also
knew he had a random drug test every so often and if he tested positive,
he would not make the Marines. Ever. Tempting as this was, Andy refused
when it was offered. Also Andy didn't rat on his cellmate, something I
was wondering about. Where was his allegiance?

          After I released Andy, we discussed that very subject later that
night. Andy told me why he didn't tell me but only after I had asked him
and told him directly that I knew the other kid had drugs on him when I
put him in the cell. Andy told me that as far as he was concerned, that
was none of his business what the other guy did or did not do, so long
as Andy was left out of it.

          If Andy ever ended up in OCS that would not be an acceptable
answer from an ethical standpoint, but the practicality of it was
certainly acceptable. At least for now. I expected Andy to learn to use
judgment, and in my opinion, that's what he did. If he ever did become
a policeman, he'd learn there was a fine line - a very fine line - between
what he could ignore and what he couldn't, and just as importantly, when
he could and couldn't ignore his duty to turn someone else in.

           Academy was only a week away. I needed to drive that lesson home
and fast because it was something that always came up at Academy. Someone
would break the rules among his fellow classmates and someone else would
know. What he didn't do as well as what he did might just get him kicked
out. I couldn't afford that chance. Andy and the rest of us spent several
nights talking about ethics and what we would do in certain circumstances.
The subject of being gay came up again. When he should "stretch the truth"
and when he should play by the rules. We made it clear to him that whatever
happened, he shouldn't discuss anything that had happened on the island,
about is background or any thing else. We gave him the "party line" to
follow should it come up about his background and connection with us. The
party line was that yes, he had been in trouble, and basically we had put
him on a tough love program, part of which included the Academy. As for
his gayness, he was to lie if that came up. He could jack off but shouldn't
do it openly. After all, even straight boys were masturbating by then.
It was something everyone did but nobody talked about. And if they did,
he should basically go with the flow and that was something that the less
he actually said anything about, the better. He could agree if he wanted
if the conversation seemed "bravado" in scope but again, it would be best
to say as little as possible.

          Andy knew this instinctively but considering the "you will tell
all" philosophy at the Academy, it was best that he know when not to tell
all.

           I had pulled a lot of strings and called in a lot of markers
to get Andy into the state Police Academy. It was understood that they
could not graduate him for several reasons: first of all he was not
eighteen, second, he didn't have an AA degree in Criminal Justice, let
alone a high school GED. But the Commissioner did understand that the
objective wasn't to make a cop out of him, at least not yet, but to get
him hooked on police work as a career. A week before Andy was due to report
in at the Academy, I went off island and spent a day there with the
Commissioner and his staff, explaining my objectives and working with them
to "officially" develop a training program that could be used as a model
in the future. That was partly how I had been able to sell this to damn
near everyone concerned. It was recognized that the Academy could not
afford to devote its full resources to Andy (or in the future others like
Andy), they also recognized the value that such a program would give them
in later years. Coupled with valuable MP experience in the Marines or other
armed forces, this could substantially reduce the time at the Academy and
serve well as a good screen for future Academy candidates.

           It was decided that Andy would get the full coursework in
Physical Conditioning (although everyone pretty much agreed he didn't
need it) but they left that in because they also taught self defense during
that time, and that was something Andy had no formal training in. It was
decided that probably would not conflict with what he would be learning
in the Marines anyway and if it did, what damage might be done was apt
to be minor. Andy would also get the coursework in evidence, arrest, law,
and tactics. He would get advanced driving training and would damn near
get everything but the diploma.

          The Commissioner had one valid concern and it was a humdinger.
When the time came for Andy to go through the Academy for real, would he
be so bored that he would not do well then? It was a valid concern and
we discussed that long and hard. The decision was that we would adapt a
wait-and-see how Andy did in the Academy and then make that determination.
I felt that since Andy didn't have the AA degree, he'd be operating from
behind the eight-ball anyway and would have to really struggle to
understand what was going on. If he got anything out of the classroom stuff,
I thought he'd be lucky.

           As it was we were all very right and all very wrong. Andy did
indeed struggle, but it made him all the more determined. He took the same
tests, but by agreement, his were not scored. He did discuss the questions
with the instructor in a special session after the test was given, since
it was clear the test should not be scored. Andy could at least get an
idea how he did which we thought was wise. On the whole he did much better
than anyone expected. He would not have passed the classroom stuff but
again no one expected him to. But he damn well was going to be a jump ahead
of his competition once he had his AA degree because he had a damn good
idea why he needed the information he would be getting in junior college.
As for his driving abilities, well there he really shined. He outperformed
everyone. No one had been told where he learned to drive but he took to
high speed driving and evasive driving like a duck to water. Even without
being scored, it was clear he was the best in the class.

           The course at the Academy technically lasted for twenty-six
weeks. Andy had originally been scheduled for two. He did so well that
by mutual agreement, we left him in to mid course. The Academy's training
program was broken into sections, and that made a logical separation point.
His fellow students knew he was in there as a test case without knowing
the full background but they took to him and called him Rookie. When it
came time to leave, they got together and held an unofficial graduation
ceremony for him, attended by all his faculty and the Commissioner as well.
I had been invited as well and thought long and hard about accepting the
invitation. The Judge and I had talked about that as the entire subject
of a lunch - one that he had even invited the Commissioner to the island
to join us for and which the Commissioner gladly accepted. In the end,
as his sponsor, I decided it best to come on behalf of the island police
department. Since the game plan was a mapped out career eventually ending
in Andy's joining my force, it was well in order to attend.

           The program exceeded any of our expectations. It was decided
to make a permanent scholarship for two "Rookies" as they would be called
for each twenty six week session. The two Rookies would "graduate"
following only thirteen weeks of the course and go immediately into the
armed service of their choice as part of their program. We were breaking
new ground here and we all kept our fingers crossed that it would work
as well in the future as it seemed to be doing now. Provisions were made
in the program to allow participants who were in academic trouble but who
showed desire and willingness to overcome those difficulties to be
sponsored as a "Rookie". That was the smartest move we ever made in the
program and we had damn near every parole officer interested in the program
shortly thereafter. Each one of them had their pet project that they really
hoped they could turn around.

           I had been asked by the commissioner to sit as a permanent member
of the applications review committee. We decided that in the future one
of those two positions would be selected by committee, and the other would
be drawn by lottery. Some kids were really going to get a break.

           Andy had no problems with ethics too. Luckily whoever had
assigned the housing put Andy with a no-nonsense just-out-of-the-military
cadet. The two quickly became like big and little brother. When they parted
I was concerned about how Andy would react to Sven again. I shouldn't have
worried except for the fact that he wanted his cadet roommate to come visit
him on the island and that WAS going to be a problem should it happen.
Andy had kept his mouth shut for the most part about his "lifestyle" and
his cadet roommate was definitely "straight." Andy had debated telling
his roommate more from time to time but wisely kept his own counsel. It
would not have been well received had his roommate found out. They kept
in contact by mail, even after Andy had entered the Marines and they are
still friends to this day but they don't get together, at least not at
the house here.

           When September arrived, Andy was about as ready as he could be.
In the remaining six weeks after the Academy and before the Marines, Andy
spent most of his time with his tutor. When he wasn't studying he was doing
pushups and running and climbing ropes and trees and keeping himself fit
as he could.

           The last week before he left, we stopped the drills and Steve
and Sven took Andy to the shore by themselves each day. I didn't ask, they
didn't tell but they said their good byes in their own private way. The
last evening Bill and Mike threw a party the likes of which was matched
only by Christmas. We had quite a few "outsiders" join us that evening.
There were all of us in the house, his Honor, Sarge, and Andy's Tutor.
None of us slept the entire night; we drank, smoked, played cards, losing
money to Andy. We gave him gifts, some token, and some of importance. Tears
flowed as much as the beer and not a one of us was shamed by them.

          When six AM came it was time for Sarge to take Andy to the ferry
and into Providence. Things did not quite happen that way because at
exactly five thirty Sarge sent Randy (Andy's tutor) out to the car to get
some things. His Honor also left for a few minutes and I knew something
was up and for once this was going to be a surprise to me too. Shortly
thereafter Randy came back, holding an American Flag and a stand, and His
Honor came back in his judicial robes.

   Some five minutes later, Andy stood before all of us assembled in the living room, the flag of
the United States of America set in front of the fireplace in its stand, and the Flag of the United
States Marine Corps in its respective stand on the other side of the hearth. Sarge, Randy and bless
his heart, Steve, were all in full Marine Dress Class A's, swords and all. In those remaining
minutes, Andy raised his right hand in our presence and was sworn into the United States Marine
Corps. Steve, knowing what would be best, had packed a small flight bag with what Andy would
need for the next thirteen weeks, packing no more nor no less than what he would need. It was his
parting gift and every item of clothing in it not only fit perfectly but was totally new. There was
not a dry eye in the house when Sarge and Andy left for the ferry and eventually the airport at
Providence, Rhode Island. We all went curbside and watched as the official USMC motor pool car
assigned to the recruiting office on the island departed for the ferry. We watched until it was out of
sight and then returned quietly into the house, had a quiet breakfast, and then went our separate
ways.



THE ISLAND -6-
( by Greg Johnson )

            It seemed like Andy had been living with us for a long time
but in reality it was only eleven months. Yet, the house seemed strange
and void without him. It took a couple of weeks for life to return to normal,
or at least as they were before Andy. They really hadn't been "normal"
since Steve, Herb and I lived together with our assorted womenfolk almost
four years ago. Those days were long gone.

          But the more things change, the more they stay the same. The
Judge and I continued to meet once a month. We got letters almost every
week from Andy, and bless his heart, he sent the Judge one from time to
time as well. We knew he had written his folks, mainly because they had
contacted His Honor and told him so. They had not seen their son, and would
not see him again until Christmas leave. Andy would be going home for
Christmas.

           We all had mixed emotions about that. It was right and proper
that he should do so but we also considered him our family. None the less,
the decision was his. We weren't concerned but it did seem curious. He
and his father had not been on good terms ever since Andy made it clear
to him that he was gay. And yet, he chose to go home then, rather than
to come here where he was "safe".
           Andy made no mention of seeing any women during the few hours
they were granted liberty. Based on our own individual experiences in the
service, most red-blooded American males whose bodies were filled to
overflowing with testosterone would go into town and get shit faced,
spending what money they had on women and beer, usually in that order.
We weren't sure what he had done during those brief interludes; his letters
didn't say. For some reason we were pretty sure he hadn't compromised
himself?he had far too much to lose and he knew it, but on the other hand
we didn't really think that he'd go chasing after skirt. We suspected he
stayed on post going to the gym and working out. Or at least that's what
we had hoped he was doing.

           Christmas came and went. Andy did indeed go home and was there
for a couple of days. On the twenty seventh of December he called and said
he was on his way to the island and would it be all right if he stopped
by. Steve took the call and I don't know who was the happier of the five
of us.

           When Andy showed up he was a sight for sore eyes. His hard work
had paid off but the Marines found the stuff he didn't know he had within
him. He looked terrific. He wasn't just fit, he was in superb condition.
Steve was beside himself with pride and so was Andy. He was in civilian
clothes which now fit him too tightly through the chest. We didn't think
that there had been much room for improvement when he left for the Marines,
but like I said before, the Marines found parts of him that Steve had
overlooked or didn't know how to condition.

           Andy was going to have a clothing problem. While I thought his
uniform fit fine, Steve was beside himself, saying the uniform did not
do him justice. With that, the two of them took off for the mainland and
to find a tailor to do some alterations. I started worrying about the two
of them about eight PM when the ferry had come in and they weren't on it.
They ended up spending the night on the mainland, and much of the next
day also. It was a relief when Andy called telling us they were staying
over. They were late the next day also, finally getting in on the last
ferry run. They had been busy.

          I've got to admit that Steve was right because when they
returned, the uniform fit like a glove and what had looked damn good before
now looked flawless. Steve and Andy were both carrying package after
package from the stores.

           The last morning Andy put on what might be described as a fashion
show for us. Everything he put on had been altered to fit him. Dress shirts
and polo shirts had been custom made; broad in the shoulders and narrow
at the hips. Even his jeans had been altered to take in the legs and add
to the thighs. They fit him like a second skin. I was worried because he
looked too damn good and some of the other guys in his outfit might get
concerned that he was showing off.

           Andy spent two more days with us. He was due back at Paris Island
on the second of January. He had originally only planned to spend a couple
of days on the island and then visit some of his new Marine buddies for
a day or two but he ended up spending those with us instead. I wasn't sure
he had made the right choice but from a purely selfish standpoint I was
glad he did. He spent quite a bit of time telling us about his experiences
to date, about the friends he had made and virtually every facet of his
life during basic training. I was beginning to wonder if I had made a
mistake and rather than have him back on the force, if he wouldn't be better
suited for a career in the Armed Forces.

           I shouldn't have worried. Steve covered that base for me, bless
his heart. Like Bill did the Christmas before, Steve was our guardian angel
this year, buying presents for Andy for each of us. Sven and Steve gave
him police equipment - cuffs, nightstick and the like - things that he
was eventually going to have or want to buy for himself once he joined
the force. Much of the clothing supposedly came from Bill and Mike but
Steve had bought them. Steve had covered my ass too. Steve took out the
one item that Andy did not see at the tailor's - it was a regulation police
jacket, with dark blue fleece collar, ripstop nylon lining inside and out,
pockets on the sleeves for pens and cigarettes, and a small flap with two
eyelets through which to pin a patrolman's badge. Somehow he had left the
jacket with the tailor and told him to alter it too. That was the package
that had arrived UPS this morning. There were two other wrapped boxes that
Andy was given on my behalf. One contained a pair of mirrored aviator's
sunglasses and the other contained our official Island Police Department
Baseball Cap with our insignia sewn on the face of the crown. Steve said
that was our collective gift to Andy. Where Bill had saved the day the
year before, Steve had come through like a champ this time. And when Andy
left two days later, he was wearing that jacket over his tight blue jeans
and our island police department regulation ball cap. He truly looked
impressive.

          Basic training was over and he was enroute back to Paris Island
for his advanced MP training. We heard from him more frequently now.
Training was going very well and some thirteen weeks later he had graduated
at the top of his class. He was being assigned to duty at USMC recruit
depot in San Diego as an MP.
           Things went well there for about a year. Then all of a sudden
first he got transferred to some place none of us had ever heard of and
next we pretty much stopped hearing from him. Steve wrote and occasionally
got a brief reply, tersely worded. Yes, he had completed his GED and yes,
things were ok. He was involved in some sort of special unit that he was
not at liberty to discuss. That part didn't surprise us but his lack of
communication did. That wasn't Andy.

           Another season on the island came and went during the year that
Andy was at San Diego. He didn't join us for Christmas that year and we
were all disappointed. But it was soon after that in the dead of winter
that some strange things on the island started happening. Shortly after
one of Andy's infrequent letters there was a message on the answering
machine that was only a pause indicating someone had called but decided
not to leave a message. That happened more than once. In the background
you could faintly hear road noises like the call had been made from a
telephone booth on some highway. This happened twice before someone was
finally there to take the call. I had received letters of application from
three police officers for a position I didn't have open on the force. The
cover letters said they were being sent on speculation of an eventual
position. I had occasionally received a "broadcast" resume before but not
three in the same month from three separate locations. One of the three
even came to the island and tried to set up an appointment for an interview.
I didn't think anything of it at the time but that should have set off
warning bells in my head and it didn't.

           Sven was the one in the house at the time when the call came
in. "Do you recognize my voice?" the caller asked Sven. "Don't say anything
but yes or no!" the voice pleaded. Sven knew who it was. "Yes," he replied.
"I'll make this short. Mike is still in danger - in fact in great danger!
Get him out of the house and do it now!" The caller hung up. The call had
lasted maybe fifteen seconds, probably not long enough to have been traced.
Sven didn't know the whole story about Mike and Bill but knew some of it.
Rather than follow instructions exactly, Sven called the station and told
Carol to call me on the radio and to give me a message. That message was
that I had forgotten my lunch. He had the good sense to know that even
though the signal was scrambled that the call had come from Andy who was
in the military. All our communications were possibly compromised. But
like many small police departments we all had key words for certain
circumstances that even if spoken would mean both nothing and everything
at the same time. In our case it was the phrase "You left your lunch at
home." That meant drop everything that there was an emergency at the house.
Carol knew all the phrases as well. She knew that something was terribly
wrong.
           Sven had both Bill and Mike dressed but for some strange reason
he dared not put them in the car. Perhaps it was booby-trapped. He didn't
know but he knew the car that I was driving around in certainly wasn't.
We would get Bill and Mike to safety then check out the house and everything
else there.

          I did the unthinkable. I took them off island. I should never
have done that.

           I had taken them to a motel on the mainland and checked them
in and told them both to stay there, not to leave the room, nor answer
the phone. I told them the only people they were to open the door for would
be either me, Steve or Sven. They knew our voices and unless whoever was
trying to take them out was very, very good, they'd be safe that way. They
weren't. Whoever was trying to take them out was indeed, very, very good.

          Actually I had made several mistakes. I had used my patrol car
which I had assumed (as had Sven) to be safe. In fact it wasn't. It had
been tagged with a transmitter that beamed a coded signal giving the car's
exact location to within a centimeter of its true position anywhere on
the face (or for that matter underneath to a depth of 25 meters) of the
globe. "They" knew exactly where I had taken Bill and Mike. In reality
it made little difference since every car on the force and every vehicle
any of us in the house owned or used was also tagged. Whoever had done
this had not only done their homework but done it well.

           Second, like I said before, I took Mike and Bill off the island
and I should never have done that. They were out of our jurisdiction but
more importantly, out of our ability to set up an effective defense
perimeter. On the island, at least we would have had only two readily
visible ways of entry or departure - the airport or the ferry. Sure, they
could have come in by boat, but that would be unlikely as being too
noticeable, especially since this was the middle of March. Things were
still running in the reduced-island mode as we who lived here liked to
think of it. The tourists and those who were seasonal were still two months
away.

          I had done one thing right, though and that was to leave the
two of them together. They were unarmed; after all Mike was a convicted
felon and this was Massachusetts where most of the police chiefs were
against citizen having handguns. When I went back to the motel with several
pistols that were not traceable (It can be helpful sometimes to have an
evidence room from long closed cases), Both Bill and Mike were gone and
the room was in total shambles. When I had knocked and identified myself
at the door, I had noticed marks on the door jamb that were not there like
a pry bar had been used.

           I showed the motel manager my law enforcement ID and told him
I did not have a search warrant but I could have one by the time the next
ferry arrived. He voluntarily unlocked the room and it was the Manager
who exclaimed "Oh My God!? when he saw the carnage, blood and the damage
to the room. Whatever had happened, neither Bill nor Mike had gone
willingly.

           I got some CRIME SCENE DO NOT CROSS tape out of the back of my
car and taped off the doorway, then to the antennas of the three cars that
were parked in front of the unit, effectively isolating the sidewalk in
front of the unit. The manager and I went back to the office where I dialed
911 and asked for backup and for a state forensics unit after having
identified myself to the dispatcher. I had an all points put out giving
both Mikes and Bill's description, making it clear that they were the
victims and not the perpetrators.

          As of now, I had no idea of who the Perps were - well that wasn't
totally true either. I had an idea of what they were but not who they were.
The Navy had come calling again.

           It was too late for remorse and I only hoped that Andy was
somehow able to take care of himself. It had been almost six years since
Mike was taken into my protective custody - six very interesting years,
which, in large measure had happened only because of the predicament that
Mike was in then.

           The State guys showed up pretty damn quick, but the local
sheriff had jurisdiction, not me. If it were my case, I could have done
things a lot differently, with a Judge in my back pocket to help as required.
Here, I was at other sheriff's mercy. I could suggest but that would be
the end of it.

           I told the sheriff some of the history behind this, including
statements that had been made by Mike over the course of the six years
he was in my protective custody so to speak. Damn it to hell, the first
thing the Sheriff wanted to do was to call in the Feds. That was the very
last thing I wanted. He was playing it by the book, knowing that he didn't
have all the facts and that if the Feds were involved, he would be out
of his league.

          I quickly made a call to His Honor and told him what had happened
and asked if he couldn't apply some muscle somehow to get this case
transferred back to my jurisdiction. He told me that as of that moment
he didn't have a way but he'd think about it and let me know if he could
come up with anything. I called everyone I knew at the state level to at
least see if there was a way that I could get this transferred to state
jurisdiction. I knew that at least there I had a better shot of keeping
control of some of the situation. I had friends there. The local sheriff
was someone who would be easily compromised by the awesome power of the
Feds.

           I was afraid of the worst with good reason. I wasn't sure if
I was up against the entire Federal government or only the Navy. I decided
I had no other choice than to hope for the best and hope some inter
departmental justice could be effected between the FBI and the military.
On my own I called in the FBI and within minutes of finding out, the local
sheriff was screaming about interference in his case. I knew then that
I had not only made an ememy but probably also the right decision. It was
likely someone in DOD had compromised the sheriff running the case.
Someone in DOD didn't want Mike and Bill's disappearance solved.

           The next seventy two hours were pure hell for me, not just
because I felt terrible about Mike and Bill (which I did) but I underwent
a very through grilling by some real experts. These FBI guys really knew
their stuff and I had been flirting on the edge of legality and we all
knew it. I could only appeal to their conscience that I had done the best
for all concerned. The sexual stuff was left out of course. By this time
Sven and Steve had "santized" the dungeon so to speak so that all that
were left were the cells and it truly resembled a prison which was what
the FBI had been told. Sure enough, they showed up at the precinct house
to inspect it and look for clues. They took Mike's and Bill's prints from
the bars, as well as all of ours and Andy's. There was no reason to wipe
those off and the less we tampered with evidence the better off I was.
All I wanted out of the way were the dungeon playtoys. They were stored
in the most unlikely of places, at the police station in the evidence room.
Steve, in his cunning, came up with that idea. He remembered a sex crime
from several years ago, some woman who had voluntarily submitted to
bondage in some motel room during the summer season only to change her
mind after her "lover" had gotten too rough. She filed assault charges
and the rope and stuff he had used were still there. Steve just added to
"his collection" a little. If that poor stud had been hauled in front of
a jury now with the "evidence" in his box, well there would be no telling
what the jury might have done to him then. I don't know what he did with
the St. Andrews Cross on the wall but it was gone too. The eyebolts he
left alone. We could probably come up with some explanation for that should
the occasion arise.
           The good news was that the FBI was definitely interested in this
case?in fact they had previous knowledge of some sort of DOD black
operation involving drugs for years and all they could do was kind of sniff
around the edges. This was the first chance they had to sink their teeth
into it. Within a week it became clear that the FBI would be on our side.
They took control of the case based mainly upon my sworn affidavits about
DOD involvement some six years ago which now gave them jurisdiction.

           Things began to happen but still no word from or about Bill or
Mike. About a week later I was served with a search warrant from the FBI
and they went over both the house and the grounds, including the barn with
a fine tooth comb. They took metal detectors to the yard, dug when they
got readings, went through every blade of grass, turned over every stone
and in the end left with nothing. In the process they swept the house for
surveillance devices and found none which was a big relief. If they had
found some I would have had to consider both Sarge and Randy as being
involved in this sordid affair, something I really hoped wasn't the case
since I liked them both.

           Our first break came from a most unlikely source - the military
itself. There had been an incident and Andy was involved. Something had
gone on down in the swamps of Florida where he had been assigned. Andy
and about six of his closest MP friends who he could trust went on some
sort of a raid against a supposedly clandestine operation. Drugs were
found and there was a military connection but what it was nobody would
say, not even the FBI. Oh, this was kept hush-hush need-to-know. While
the US Government would indeed clean up their own house, they seldom aired
their own dirty laundry in the glare of media scrutiny if they didn't have
to or unless it would bring the FBI positive publicity.

          Reference was made to Mike in one of the documents found in the
raid. The FBI took jurisdiction of that case as well and requested that
Andy and his gang of six buddies be "loaned" to the FBI for the good of
the country. The DOD did not refuse but they wern't happy about it either.
It certainly wouldn't hurt Andy's career chances to work with the FBI for
a while but the Criminal Intelligence Division of the Department of
Defense were very unhappy campers since they considered this their turf.
It became an interagency turf war between CID and the FBI. It would have
remained CID's call if Mike, a civilian now, had not been involved. That
is what landed it in the FBI's sphere of influence. If CID remained
involved there would also be the potential for a cover-up; of course with
a few well chosen words from the President, the whole thing could be
contained under the ruse of National Security anyway.
          The second break in the case came about a week later. For some
strange reason things regarding this case seemed to happen in intervals
of a week. Unfortunately this was the worst possible news that we could
have received. Mike was dead. He had been found by a hunter just over the
Florida-Georgia state line (on the Georgia side) hanging from a tree, his
hands bound behind his beaten back. It had been a particularly gruesome
and painful hanging of that there was no doubt (at least in my mind) that
whoever had done it was the same guy who had started to hang Bill and Mike
in the clearing in the woods behind our house many years ago.

          The FBI had shown me the photos of the execution site and of
Mike before he had been cut down. They knew that I would have a professional
interest in seeing this evidence as well as a personal one. Strange things
were still happening on the island and they felt I had a "need to know"
as much about the case as I could.

           The photos were gruesome. There were maybe two or three rolls
of prints of Mike, his neck distorted, and his face now ashen gray. The
rope whoever had used was white nylon, ?inch in thickness, enough to cut
into his neck real good and strangle him to death. It would have been quite
painful. That rope would have cut as much as it choked him and indeed there
were closeups of where the noose had indeed cut into his neck and photos
of dried blood both on the rope and Mike's neck. Like I said, there were
a couple of rolls of just Mike and another couple of rolls of the immediate
area. One of the photos of Mike's chest was especially important. It was
evident where if one looked closely that Mike's tits had pierced marks
like large alligator clips had been attached. Further, there were
electrical burn marks on each nipple. These had been found by the FBI and
closeups taken of each tit.

           I don't know if it was outrage or relief when I saw the pictures
taken on the autopsy table. They were in a separate package but there was
dried semen on Mike's ass. The autopsy report said that there was only
a single type, making it clear at least that Mike had not been gang-fucked
by whoever had plowed him last. I secretly wondered if Mike and Bill had
been able to make love before he had hanged but at least for the time being,
I would not know the answer to that.

           While I was going through these photographs and reports, the
FBI agent who had brought them asked for permission to go out to the house
again and go through whatever stuff Bill and Mike had left behind. I told
him to go ahead that he could go in and look around and do what he had
to do and that I wouldn't require a warrant. The pictures were more than
enough to convince me to co-operate to the fullest. I gave him the keys
and told him how to turn off the alarm. The agent went but came away empty
handed. He didn't tell me what he was looking for but Steve figured it
out later that night. He wanted a semen sample or a piece of hair or
something that the FBI could do some DNA matching on. Once the FBI agent
had left, Steve and I discussed the evidence we had stashed. There might
be pubic hair or semen on some of the leather goods we had in storage.
But that was just too risky to expose - at least right now.

          I was in a funky mood. Mike was like one of the family. It was
time to put morbidity aside and do what had to be done. I didn't know if
Mike and Bill had any family left to claim his remains or whether they
would even want to. I checked with the FBI agent handling the case and
he said that no one had inquired and that the FBI had planned to cremate
his remains. They were a little hesitant to do that since Bill had not
yet been found but shortly would have no choice. For now he was in cold
storage in the morgue but they would have to move his remains shortly.
I told them that before Mike's body was cremated that I wanted to be
notified. I had my own ideas.

          I never knew who owned the woods behind the house, and until
now really never cared. Based on my testimony, the FBI had gone through
those woods pretty thoroughly and had dug in several places in the clearing.
Again they had found nothing.

          That Saturday dawned bright, the air fresh after an evening
rainstorm the night before. It was an unusually warm morning for so early
in the spring. I had gone into the woods and to the clearing, mainly to
look around but something had drawn me there and I didn't know what. When
I got there it was peaceful and I had no idea what I was looking for but
I remained there for an hour or so before I left. When I got back, I knew
what I was looking for but it would have to wait until Monday when the
courthouse opened and I could examine the country records. I wanted that
land.

           Finding the records was easy. The land was owned by some
absentee landowner whose family had bought it generations before. The
actual recording of the last sale had taken place in 1892 over one hundred
years ago. The address in the tax records was in upstate New York and the
taxes had been paid and were current. I took the available information
and went to see an attorney friend of mine and told him what I had in mind.
He wasn't sure I could do what I had in mind without a permit and getting
the property rezoned and all that sort of stuff, let alone if the family
would even sell me the land. I told him to try and paid him $1500 on retainer
to do so.
           One Wednesday of that same week I got a call from the FBI again.
Bill had been found, alive, but barely. That was the best news I had heard
in a long time. Apparently he was on drugs and had taken an overdose. I
suspected there was a lot more to it than that but for now he was in Atlanta
General Hospital and was expected to live. He had been found passsed out
in front of a Gospel Mission for homeless men who called for assistance.
I was not sure if Bill had returned to his old life but to the best of
my knowledge Bill hadn't been mixed up with drugs although his brother
had. I smelled a rat and took the first plane I could to Atlanta.

          The FBI had the same idea I did. It didn't fit what they could
piece together about Bill unless he had been "hooked" while he had been
kidnapped. I suspected this was the way they had intended to kill him and
somehow the dosage had been just enough to look like an overdose with out
being an obvious murder or suicide, both of which would have been
suspicious. No, an overdose while still risky, was probably the best way
to get rid of Bill short of direct murder.

           When I got there, the FBI had asked for assistance from the
Atlanta Police who had posted guards outside his room. Bill would make
it but was one very sick puppy right now. I was not allowed to see him
just yet. It was still touch and go medically. I checked into a hotel and
waited it out for another three days before the doctors said he had
regained consciousness and I could see him for a few minutes. I was not
to discuss the case with him but was only to let him know that I was there
and I cared about him. That, hopefully, was the best medicine the doctors
would be able to come up with for Bill.

           I had to be careful of the IV tubes and the electronic monitors
but I had been stroking his bruised head and holding his hand when he came
to. He looked in my eyes, smiled and went back to sleep. I called the doctor
immediately thinking that maybe he had died. The answer was in front of
me however; his chest was expanding and contracting and he was still
breathing. He might have gone back into a coma and I didn't know. The doctor
checked his electronic monitor and told me that in his opinion Bill had
just gone to sleep. I stayed with him another two hours before I gave up
and left.

           The call came from the hospital the next morning. Bill was now
fully awake, not in a half dazed drug stupor. There was an FBI agent with
him now and I was permitted to join them whenever I could get there. Bill
was a sight for sore eyes. He still looked like shit, greatly weakened
from the former self I knew him to be while he lived with us. I still didn't
know if this was from self abuse or whether it was the result of his
kidnapping. I also wasn't sure if he knew about Mike or not and if he didn't,
I wanted to check with the doctor before saying anything.

           I just listened to what Bill said to the FBI agent. It soon
became apparent that Bill did know about Mike, and in fact, had been there
when Mike died. Bill cried as he told the agent about what had happened
and several times the agent left and I held Bill - just the two of us alone
by ourselves, sharing our innermost thoughts with each other while not
having to say a word. The doctor mercifully came in and put the brakes
on the questioning for now. I went outside with the doctor for a few minutes.
When we came back in, Bill was asleep and we left him that way the rest
of the day.

           Before the doctor let us see Bill again the next morning he asked
the FBI agent if there was anything that the agent had to quickly know
from a time standpoint that just couldn't wait. The agent thought a minute
and said no. The doctor told us that he would prefer that Bill be given
a couple of days to rest before we resumed his interrogation. By now the
trail was cold anyway and a few days weren't going to make much difference.

          It was now early April and Andy had been in the Marines for two
years and six months, with only six months to go before he could get an
early discharge if he were to join a police force. It was time to get my
act in gear and start making arrangements for his appointment to the
Academy. To do that we had to officially hire him and place him on payroll
so that he could go. I still didn't know if he had his AA degree or not
and that would be a big issue that could not be circumvented. I needed
to see Andy and talk to him in person.

           I decided that Bill was well on his way to recovery and that
when Bill was ready he could fill me in on what happened in his own time
as he saw fit. I would leave his questioning to the pros but I did go back
to see Bill before I left. I couldn't be gone from the island much longer
anyway. I told him that I had to get back but that I'd call him at least
once a day to say hello if nothing else. I also told him that I had to
go see Andy. With that Bill looked shocked. I wasn't sure quite how to
react. "Be careful;" he said. "Be real careful."

          Those words sent shivers up my spine. Was Andy in trouble? Worse,
was Andy a part of this? I couldn't believe that for a minute. I had to
get back to the island but I also had even more reason to get to Andy.
Which came first? Bill answered that question for me. "Go home for now"
he said. "Let Andy call you."
           "I can't do that, Bill," I said. "I have to find out if Andy
has his AA degree so I can get his paperwork started to get him out of
the service." Bill was thinking clearer than I was. "Let Sarge run that
down for you." Bill suggested, and a good one at that. So with reluctance
I took Bill's advice and planed my return to the island. There was one
piece of remaining business that could no longer be postponed.

           "Bill, I know this is going to be rough on you but the time to
talk about it is now. Do you know where your parents are or how to get
in touch with them? Bill, I'll be as gentle about this as I can but its
time to make a decision about Mike. I need to talk to them. On the other
hand if you don't know where they are or even if they're still alive, that
decision, if you want to make it, belongs to you. But before you make that
decision let me tell you one thing, I have bought the woods behind the
house. If you would like we can take Mike home. I now own the clearing
and it would be a suitable place for Mike to spend the rest of his days
close to us. That, of course, is assuming that's what you'd like."

           Bill simply and quietly said, "That decision is mine I suppose.
I'd like it very much if you'd take Mike home." He turned to me weakly,
smiled and shut his eyes. I left him that way, alone with Mike in his memory
for a few minutes then quietly I took bill's hand in mine, held it,
caressing it, and squeezed it affectionately. I left the room not needing
to say anything further. Our bond said all that needed to be said.

           True to my word, I contacted the Coroner and made arrangements
for Mike's body to be returned to the island. The attorney had worked out
a deal with the Town Council without naming names that the woods would
be held in conservancy and never developed except for one plot of land
which would remain private, and would be reserved for use as a cemetery
for the owner and such kin as he may decide. It was pretty much a forgone
conclusion that any proposal to the town council that would substantially
preserve the land usage of the island in its present form would be accepted.
We had our private cemetery and no one would ever build on the woods behind
our house. In one way this raised the value of the house substantially
but our lawyer did give us logging rights to thin 'and maintain' the woods
in perpetuity and the other legalese. We could also clear an additional
five acres immediately behind our house although we would not be permitted
to build any structure thereon except for a garage or storage building
provided it was not used for habitation or commercial use.

           I asked the Coroner to delay shipping Mike home until Bill was
well enough to travel and to be present when Mike was interred. In one
of our phone conversations I also asked Bill if I should have someone reach
Andy and ask that he be allowed "compassionate leave" to attend. He thought
that would be an excellent idea. Bill allowed that the sooner Andy were
out from under the control of the military, the safer he would be. He was
not sure how much if anything Andy knew but the sooner Andy was a sworn
law enforcement officer, the better.

           Later that same day I got a call from Sarge. It must have been
as if he was reading my mind but I was glad the call came anyway. Sarge
had done some checking and Andy did not yet have his AA degree but would
have the equivalent of it in June if he passed his finals in his
correspondence course. I took the opportunity to ask Sarge what the policy
of the Marine Corps was for emergency leave and told him that a good friend
of Andy's had died and that the burial would be in the next few days. Sarge
asked me if it was immediate blood kin and I had to say no. Sarge would
see what could be done and that would depend in part on how much leave
Andy had coming anyway and what his present duties required. The next
morning Sarge called and said that Andy would be here day after tomorrow
and would have three days leave once here and a day to return. Sarge gave
me a phone number where I could reach Andy or leave a message for him
without saying where that number was. I didn't ask but the area code was
for Washington DC so Andy could be anywhere in the world. I guessed he
was still somewhere in Florida.

          I called and was expected, I reached a duty desk and told them
that I had received word that Andy had been granted emergency leave and
to please have him call me and I would make his travel arrangements on
civilian air carrier. The corporal on duty told me that he would make
travel arrangements for Andy to and from Atlanta and that if I would be
responsible for getting him here and back from Atlanta. He suggested I
call him back and let him know which airline and flight I had booked him
on and that he could pick up his tickets at the airport in Atlanta. The
corporal was telling me next to nothing and I assumed this was standard
procedure.

           It was a sunny Friday morning when I met Andy at Providence.
He was in civilian dress on arrival. I wasn't sure what to make of him
when he got off the plane but physically he looked the same. There was
however, a certain tenseness to his walk and the tightness of his face
spoke volumes without having to say a word. I decided to let him do the
talking which, as it turned out was a good call. We embraced and hugged
each other at the end of the jetway and to my car. He had carried on what
he needed in a flight bag. It was a silent drive home. Just as we were
about to board the ferry Andy asked me whether or not he would need a suit.
I hadn't really given much consideration to the exact details of the burial
other than Scott had taken a backhoe through the woods and already prepared
a suitable site. There would only be the six of us... Scott, Sven, Andy,
myself, Bill ?and Mike. It would be private and simple. I considered it
a moment and told Andy that it would just be those of us who had lived
in the Precinct house and that what he was wearing right now would be
appropriate.

           I hadn't checked with Bill about that. In fact I really hadn't
given this all that much thought. Bill had his own ideas and I wasn't sure
but it was his brother and I went along. We had the rest of the day to
sort things out.

          Bill had lunch waiting for us when we got back. It was a simple
but thoughtful lunch. Afterwards, I asked Andy if he wouldn't mind
cleaning up the lunch dishes while I talked to Bill. Sven was upstairs
sleeping since he would be on night duty tonight so that both he and Steve
could have tomorrow off. Steve was on duty as we had lunch and would be
home around six.

           Bill had given a lot of thought to what he wanted to do. I tried
to talk him out of part of it since I didn't think it fitting and
appropriate but the final call would be Bill's. If that's what he wanted,
well, it was really for his benefit. But I personally thought that what
he wanted was bordering on obscene. He wanted us dressed in leather,
shirtless except that I and Steve and Sven would wear Masters' harnesses
and he would be shirtless and in chains. Andy would wear only leather pants,
no chains unless he wanted them. It was Bill's idea to have one final
dungeon party in the clearing. I thought that disrespectful. I finally
talked him out of it. Bill agreed that we would all wear the pants from
our respective uniforms except for Bill since he didn't have a uniform.
He would wear leather pants. We would all wear a black leather armband
on our arms and it would be up to the individual involved which arm he
chose to wear it on. We would all wear a black T-shirt on our torso. That
was dignified and a decision that I thought Bill would not regret in years
to come.

           This meant some last minute scrambling. We needed to get some
leather armbands and some black T-shirts. Bill took the car and went of
island and later that night returned with what we needed. He asked that
Andy come along. Why he didn't say but I didn't protest and Andy quickly
accepted, much more quickly than I would have expected. It was obvious
the two needed to talk about something and didn't want me present. I let
them go without saying anything. I still had a few things to do of my own.
My last act was to go to the morticians to claim the body and have a hearse
bring it to the house tomorrow morning at 9 am. I had selected a modest
but dignified casket two days before. Mike's body had been prepared and
Mike had been dressed wearing a black T shirt and jeans. The undertaker
had done about as good a job as could be expected considering the condition
Mike was in when he had been cut down. In fact, from the first pictures
I had seen of Mike, I was surprised that he had not recommended a closed
casket service. We would have an opportunity later that night between
eight and ten pm to view Mike's body if we chose to do that. We would say
our private good byes then and then bury Mike in the morning.

           When Mike and Andy returned they both looked drained and I was
beginning to think that arranging for a viewing the night before was not
a good idea. As it turned out, Bill specifically asked the rest of us that
only he go to the mortuary that night. When he left, he was dressed in
leather jeans and a black T-shirt, the same he would wear in the morning.
I refused to let Bill drive down there that night and drove him myself
but remained in the car until Bill was ready to return.

           When we got back, Andy had taken over the kitchen and prepared
enough food for all of us - cold sandwiches that we could eat whenever
we were hungry, cold potato salad, and other foods that would keep. At
Andy's suggestion Steve had gone into town and bought some liquor, not
a lot, but more than enough for the next day should anyone care for a drink
or two or more. Little was said that night and we each went to bed, Andy
using Sven's since he had night duty that evening.

           At exactly nine o'clock the hearse arrived and backed in the
driveway between the house and the garage. We met the hearse, removed the
casket and once the driver had left, took it to the clearing in the woods
where we lowered the casket into the grave. It was a simple affair. We
stood around the casket for a minute or two, each saying nothing. Bill,
when he was ready, took one of two shovels, and placed the first shovelfull
of dirt on the casket. I took the second shovel and placed a single blade
full in the grave, passing the shovel next to Sven who did likewise then
who passed it to Andy and finally to Steve. Bill stripped off his shirt
and began to shovel dirt in earnest and Steve stripped his and so did the
rest but between Steve and Bill, they filled the grave. And except for
laying the headstone, it was over. Bill and Steve did that themselves and
we left, leaving Bill alone with his brother in the clearing.

          Bill did not remain long but joined us in the house. He thanked
each one of us, especially Andy for being with him and for caring about
him. It wasn't really a speech but what he said, he said to all of us and
it was heartfelt. We were, after all, family so to speak.

   That afternoon we had what I guess you could call a wake. It wasn't formal nor was it morose.
We each pretty much came and went as we felt like it, all being together for the first time in a few
years. Andy loosened up and I decided to disregard some of Bill's advice about letting Andy do the
talking. Luckily though I guess I ended up saying the right things. I thanked him for using
emergency leave and coming, even though I had bought the tickets. I told him I was glad to see
him, and asked him how he was coming on his AA degree. We talked a little about that and the
liquor had loosened his tongue some. The liquor had been Andy's idea and I don't know if that was
part of his plan or not but it was a good call. It certainly helped in this situation. Andy seemed
relaxed for the first time since he had been here. He was especially glad to see Sven and to spend
some time alone with him. Maybe this wasn't the time but I needed to find out and I wasn't going
to have a better time to do it. Did Andy still want to join the department when he got out of the
Marines? When we were alone, I got up my courage and asked him the question point blank. He
looked at me as if in shock. I was in mortal fear that I had offended him somehow. "Of course I
do." He said and then he added, "One of these days Bill will tell you what you need to know. But ?
and his voice became cold and hard" "?you can bet on one thing - that there's no way in hell you
would want to stop me now. I have my own reasons now and I'm going to become the toughest
damn cop you ever knew." I wasn't certain how to take that but I was relieved in one way and
frightened in another. I was joyous at the news that he would indeed be coming home and was
terrified to think about what was implied left unsaid.



THE ISLAND -7-
( by Greg Johnson )

            It was almost exactly four years ago to the day that Andy was
brought to the island. This time he came of his own free will and accord
- well, sort of. He still owed Uncle Sam three years of reserve duty and
the next nine months would not be his own either. I was unable to get him
in a slot in the Fall Academy since it started in September and the Marine
Corps was not co-operating about letting him separate earlier than his
discharge date. That meant Andy had two months on his hands?well, not
really because he technically was on the Island Police Force payroll so
we could even get him into the Academy. I talked it over with Carol and
we decided it was time for her to use up some of her long accumulated leave
and vacation. Andy would fill in the clerical stuff for her that did not
require a full time certified Law Enforcement officer to discharge.
Although Carol had been sworn, it was under a grandfather clause. Carol
had been a fixture and while we all pitched in for a week at a time when
she took off, this was her first chance in many years to take an extended
vacation. Andy filled in from October 15th through the end of December.
She reported back in on December 15th on paper but we gave her the time
between then and Christmas week off as well. That took a little arm
twisting with the City council but it was done. She came back the day after
Christmas to allow Andy time to bring her back up to speed (which took
all of one day) and so Andy could have some time off before he left for
the Academy.
           Bill had taken to spending most of his time in the Living Room
now, sleeping there. Since Mike died, he was doing okay but the basement
brought back memories unless we were actually playing down there. Bill
and I still spent a lot of time together, but only slightly more so since
Mike died. I never tired of playing with that enormous dick of his, nor
he of teasing me with it. It seemed to take his mind off other things and
once we got started playing it wasn't long before there were more
downstairs in the dungeon than topside. In fact, those topside were
probably asleep.

           Neither Bill nor Andy were especially close but there was a bond
there that neither spoke of and it was a bond of friendship of some sort
rather than a sexual bond. They communicated with their eyes and gestures,
sometimes expressing concern, sometimes love, but often their moods
turned powerful when together like storm clouds before a Nor'easter. When
they got in that sort of a mood they sometimes left the house for hours
at a time, and once even overnight. When they returned, both were changed
men.

           Andy seemed to have a bond to everyone but me. It wasn't that
we didn't like each other, but I was the adult in his life and the rest
of the men who lived in the Precinct House were his buddies and brothers
so to speak. It just happened that way and no matter how hard I tried,
it just never happened. I really think we both wanted it to happen but
it just wouldn't. We cared about each other but the intimacy wasn't there.
Maybe someday that bond would develop when we had to put our lives on the
line for each other but for now, that was no more than a hopeful thought.

           Sven and Steve both kept pushing Andy harder and harder at the
gym and he managed to keep his physique. It had slipped a little his last
year in the Marines you really had to know him to tell. The muscles were
still there and had definition but the sharpness just wasn't cut in the
muscles. By Christmas he had gained that back, and for that matter so had
Steve and Sven. They all had worked out hard and long and were three
handsome studs with the right attitude. I began to realize that Bill and
I were only in average shape anymore and these guys could run circles
around us. Steve always could have and always had, but for Sven and Andy
both to put us to shame, well it was time Bill and I buckled down and
toughened up. We were in far better shape than most men on the island but
by our own standards of excellence we had a long, long way to go. Bill
and I worked out together, and often one of the other three was with us
to drive us both and to give us pointers and help us as we needed it.

          Andy's eight weeks of work in the station flew by and before
we knew it Christmas was upon us once again. The Judge joined us as did
Sarge, who, by now was a fixture on the island. The Marine Corps would
no more transfer him off island than they would think of changing their
motto. After all someone in the Pentagon had enough sense to see that
something on the island wasn't broke and for a change they weren't going
to try to fix something that didn't need it. Randy, Andy's Marine Corps
Tutor, had left the service and moved away to the left coast somewhere.
So Sarge took Mike's place so to speak, and in a slight way, that helped
a lot ease the burden of Christmas this first year. Andy had pretty much
everything that he needed to get ready for the Academy except for one thing.
We cheated and did it a day early on the 25th , mainly because it seemed
fitting to do so. I had the honor of pinning the badge on Andy's jacket
- we used his jacket since he hadn't been allowed to wear a full department
uniform yet and couldn't until he had completed his academy training. This
was one of those legal catch 22s: he couldn't go to the academy until he
had been accepted by the police department but he couldn't be a police
officer until he completed his academy training. The problem was solved
by most police departments in the same way we solved it - we made him a
Reserve Police Officer in the interim. I wish Mike could have seen Andy
that night, and somehow I felt closure about all that had happened this
last year. I don't know how much Sarge knew about all of this but now wasn't
the time to find out. Things didn't get quite as sentimental as in years
past, but it was a proud moment for all of us. The feeling of peace and
goodwill lingered and it wasn't just the Christmas season. We all had a
special reason to be proud of what this meant. Each one of us there had
in some large measure, shaped the man they saw sworn before them. And in
a very special way that night, Andy also changed forever.

           Andy left the next day to go visit his folks. I sensed that there
was hope yet that Andy and his family might somehow rekindle some sort
of pleasant relationship. The Judge and I had discussed this from time
to time but as long as Andy didn't have a wife and had given up being gay
and living and sharing his life with men, his family did not understand
him and his needs, and whatever gestures he made towards reconciliation
were received with lukewarm acceptance. Andy's parents had thanked me many
times through the judge for what I had been able to do for him but he fit
with our family better than theirs and their indifference made it easier
for Andy to accept the fact that we were really his family any more.
Although he kept in touch with his parents and honored them, he did not
spend another Christmas with them?it was just too painful and stressful
for all concerned.

          Andy excelled at the Academy. He either placed first or second
in every exam that he took and graduated number one in his class. Those
twenty six weeks passed quickly and it was June when he returned to the
island, other than on occasional weekend leave for a day or two. Summer
season was in full swing and he was a most welcome addition to the force.

           The Marine Corps had made a man out of Andy, physically, and
to a certain degree mentally, but the Academy molded his maturity. He was
the youngest cadet ever to graduate from the Academy, due in part to the
one year head start he had on most men in the Marines. He took his ration
of shit when he was in the service earning the nickname of Junior because
of his age. I suspected that initially they had another name for him which
quickly was changed once he had proved himself but we never asked and Andy
never told. He was far more advanced than Sven had been when Sven had joined
the force but I never brought that up. Andy had to pay his dues as a Rookie
but for some strange reason none of us ever called him that although we
did tease him about it good naturedly from time to time. That year Rookie
was reserved for one of the summer interns. I had one more year left of
federal funding for that program and I sure was going to miss having those
two extra officers during the summer. I only hoped that the Town Council
saw the wisdom and the success that resulted from the program. It was one
of the few good things that Clinton did while in office. Too bad he wasted
his money on midnight basketball?we could have used a few more years of
rookies instead.

           While we all welcomed Andy as a cop, he was a far different cop
than any of us had expected him to be. We had hoped he'd be the same Andy
that we raised, trained and loved. What moved in with us was almost as
robotic as Terminator. Yes, Andy was a human being but whatever had
happened in the service had greatly deadened whatever humanity he had
within him. Andy was in many ways the perfect cop - but without feeling
or emotion. When he was with us he was all business, even at home. Andy
was even beginning to get on Sven's nerves as well, something I never
thought would happen. Andy was still driven and he pushed Sven even more
than Sven had pushed Andy years ago. And Sven had had about enough of it.
Andy began to push us all, forcing us to excel just to keep up with him
but in doing so he began to make us look bad. We wern't bad at all, but
by comparison to Mr. Supercop, we did pale somewhat.

          By August we were ready to throttle Andy and had seriously
discussed that among ourselves. It was to our great surprise that Andy
announced one day that he was moving out of Precinct House. It surprised
us even more when we found out who he moved in with.

          Andy moved in with Sarge.

          Few things escape us on the police force that has anything to
do with our island. Sarge was by now a fixture and pretty much taken for
granted, both within the island community as well as with those of us in
Precinct house. You could have knocked me over with a feather when I
learned that he had purchased the Bradwell house.

           The Bradwell house is an institution. It is situated near the
only lighthouse on the island, out on Bog Bluff Road. Its an appropriately
named road; to get to the lighthouse you drive through sandy pine forest,
somewhat similar to the pines behind our house, and as you dip into the
lowlands, you enter bog and marsh before emerging on a low clay bluff at
land's end. The road ends at a gate with a US Government warning sign on
the gate, and an old stranded barbed wire fence stretching to what would
pass for a rocky beach on one side of the gate to about twenty feet inside
the meanest looking thicket of brambles that you would want to contend
with. Beyond the gate the road is a single track set of ruts through a
clearing of sorts, emerging on the rocky ledge that supports the
lighthouse and the tidepools below.

           Branching off of this track is a second track, maybe some two
hundred yards within the gate. The Bradwells owned the land and built a
summer cottage, on the land?a cottage that could pass for the model for
the beach cottages from the set of "The Summer of '42. During World War
I the government came in and "bought" half the parcel for a lighthouse
and a small defensive position for the island. Legend has it that the
Bradwells sold the land for a dollar in exchange for the right of access
and the deeded land and bog and marsh which made up some 156 acres of scrub.

           While like most of the houses on the island, the Bradwell
cottage showed the effects of time, salt, wind, wave and sun however the
house was always kept in good repair. I had known it had been up for sale
for some years, but the sellers never seemed all that eager to part with
it. One day last spring while on rounds, I had noticed the For Sale sign
had been removed but did not know if it had been sold or just taken off
the market. At the time, the tourist season was just about to begin in
earnest and I filed it away in my mental list of "to do's when I get time"
to check out who had bought it.

           Like I said, Andy moved out just about the time we were tempted
to throw him out. But the surprise came the Saturday that Sarge came over
to help him get his stuff. We learned over coffee with Sarge that not only
was Andy moving in with Sarge, but that Sarge had bought the Bradwell place
some three months ago.

          I got what I deserved for not having done my homework.
           Surprisingly, when Andy moved out we all thought we were going
to miss him. Even though he was getting to be a first class pain, we still
liked him. It turned out that we didn't miss him a bit. True, the house
was a little less crowded, but it never really was all that noisy anymore,
save for an occasional romp in the cellar.

           I guess in a sense you could say that Andy started the equivalent
of a new Precinct house, out on Bog Bluff Road, however its only known
tenants were Sarge and Andy. Sven kept working out with Andy at the gym
and they kept on social terms. Sven kept giving us fix- up reports on how
the house was coming from time to time as well since he occasionally
stopped by to pick up Andy and take him in to work or drop him off after
gym or just go out after work and have a beer with him.

           It was getting on towards October when the three stooges showed
up on the island again. They made no effort to approach any of us this
time, nor to hide their identity. They came over in a Navy Gray Aerostar
Van, with obvious Navy markings. We all kept a sharp lookout for them and
where they were and what they might be doing. It surprised us therefore
to find the van out at Sarge's a fair amount of the time.

           Before I go any further, I had best back up and let you in on
another piece of information. None of us ever knew that much about Sarge
- and short of the routine background check I did many years ago when he
first came to the island, I never really knew much about him other than
he was a God and Country, then the U.S. Marines kind of guy. I had put
him in my ledger as a man to be counted on if needed and pretty much let
it go at that until the Judge had entered the picture with a punk kid named
Andy.

           Well after Andy knocked our socks off by telling us he was moving
in with Sarge, I thought it was about time to do a background check on
Sarge again. And then I got to thinking - Sarge KNEW for sure that Andy
was Gay, yet he still got him in the Marines. Hmmm? could it be that Sarge ??
I let the thought drift off, not being sure I wanted to know the answer
to that question. Damn -

           One day when I was on patrol I decided to stop by myself and
talk to Sarge and just see what he had done to fix the place up for myself.
Sarge's green Marine sedan was parked outside on the gravel parking area
near the front porch. The gray van was no where in sight. Andy saw me coming
before I even got the car parked. I was surprised to find him in a harness.
On second thought that shouldn't have surprised me. Andy let me in and
shortly Sarge came up from the basement, his chest covered with both sweat
and dust, wearing a full master's harness on his otherwise bare chest,
his jeans and work boots also dusty with clay and dried cement.

           Sarge acted like nothing had happened and his best buddy had
dropped in for a chat. That was the first time I had ever seen him in
anything but military uniform and while he always looked fit, for the first
time I saw him without a shirt on and he looked better than fit. He looked
powerful and good. Andy came and sat beside him, not kneeling like a slave,
but sitting beside Sarge, making it quite clear who was boss.

           It all began to make sense. Sarge was the one man who could keep
Andy in line that Andy didn't work with. As I looked around, the more I
looked around the more I saw Precinct House written all over the Bradford
place. And other things started to add up. Cement and the basement. A
dungeon. Sarge in a Master's harness. I began to wonder how much he had
known all along, how much Andy had told him and how much he had just guessed.
Sarge must have been reading my mind. "I've built this house pretty much
to Andy's specifications? he said. ""Want a quick tour?" he said.

          I couldn't refuse and what I saw was even more a copy of the
basement but with improvements that Andy and Sarge could make because of
the slight difference in layout. It was a perfect dungeon ?It was also
a perfect jail.

          Before I left, Sarge assured us that all of us at Precinct house
would be invited over for a proper "housewarming party" once everything
was ready.

          My pager went off while having a beer after our dungeon tour
and I used the phone to call in. Duty calling, I left, thinking how
remarkable the events of the last hour were, as I drove back to town and
to the office.

           Sarge was a younger version of me, and as I neared retirement,
I could see myself just as he now was, some fifteen years ago, having then
just bought Precinct house myself.

          True to word, Sarge and Andy hosted a "housewarming party" some
two months later. It was the week before Thanksgiving and I was already
trying to decide whether to invite Andy and Sarge to join us again this
year as they had done in years past or to leave them to their own future
and let them plan their own Christmases for years to come. Was it time
for me to step aside and think about the retirement I was going to have
to face in the next couple of years?
           We were all invited that Friday evening. I had made arrangements
to get one of the rookies to take the enitre shift that night. In November
the island is pretty dead anyway and nothing really happens save for the
occasional car that goes off the road into the ditch in the dead of night
on an icy curve. All the locals know the icy spots and take it slow. Even
then some of the best drivers end up in the ditch from time to time but
I digress.

           Sven had gone out earlier and was already there when I pulled
onto the track that passes for the driveway. To my surprise the Navy van
belonging to the Three Stooges was parked next to Sven's pickup. It was
not clear when Andy invited us whether this was a play party and we should
come in leathers, or whether this was social. Sarge had set us straight
that this was a social event. We came in civies -- polo shirts and dockers.

           When we entered the house, four armed Sargents emerged from God
only knows where, pointing their assault rifles at us and ordered the three
of us to sit on the couch. I looked at Sarge and Sarge just said "Do what
they say and I'll explain later." I was pretty pissed about now, but at
least they didn't ask for our weapons and I'm sure they all knew we had
them. Andy knew our tastes in liquor and brought us our usual libations.
With that, Sarge told Andy to get the basement ready. The Three Stooges
were nowhere to be seen. I was wondering if Sarge had them in the Basement
and if so, why we were being politely held at gunpoint.

          We had not long to wait. Sarge then introduced the four armed
guards by name; again I remind you they were all Sargents. He then told
the guards to take their positions which they did, this time leaving the
building and taking positions in the fields nearby. No one was going to
either come or leave without being shot.

          Sarge apologized for having us momentarily at gunpoint. With
that he asked that we join him in the basement.

There, set up theatre style, were several rows of chairs, a raised platform
with five more chairs on it behind a table, and to the left of that, a
TV set with VCR. Sitting quietly on the left side in the first row of chairs
were the Three Stooges.

          In the three cells to the right were six men, all bound with
military handcuffs, their hands behind their backs. Unlike our prisoners
at Precinct house, these guys were in camos pants, combat boots and Olive
Drab T shirts without any rank, insignia or other identification as to
who they were, what they were or anything else about them. All six men
were clearly prisoners?how long they had been there I could not tell. And
all of them were suitably gagged.

          Andy asked that the three of us sit in the second row on the
left. Shortly thereafter, Bill came in and that completed our roster?Sven,
Myself, Bill and Steve. Two other men came in with Bill; both of them were
in uniform. Both were obviously officers, judging by their demeanor and
deportment, but again all identification and insignia had been either
removed or covered over. With them were two more men in suits. I knew FBI
when I saw one and these guys had to be FBI. I was wrong on that count
too?only one of them was FBI. The other was Military CID.

          They stood among themselves with Bill. I had a very uneasy
feeling that this was no ordinary housewarming party.

          After a few minutes one of the FBI type guys took a seat at the
table as did one of the military officers. They took the outermost two
chairs at the head table. Bill mounted the stage, sitting next to the
civilian dressed man, leaving two empty chairs. I sensed before I heard
the footsteps. I had heard them many times before and as the clump of shoe
on stair, the particular unique sound an individual makes as custom as
his gait and weight, I knew that I would momentarily see His Honor.

          I didn't need to be a rocket scientist to figure out we were
about to be in court and that court was about to be in session.

           Indeed, His Honor was present. I had expected judicial robes.
He wore only a suit. He took his place next to Bill, leaving one seat open
at the head table.

          Every one now had a seat and there was one extra chair, except
for the six prisoners standing in their three cells.

          His Honor began: "It will be evident shortly that all assembled
have a vested interest in what is about to happen. Each person present
has a unique role in this trial. All will note that there is no court
reporter. By agreement, there will be no record of this proceeding.

           What is about to happen is the culmination of six long years
of war between the United States Government, our citizens of the island,
our police department to some degree, and members of our armed forces.

          Every one present is here on a need-to-know basis. This has no
security classification because it will never have happened. What will
happen here shall be known only to those herein assembled. There are guards,
as each of you well know, stationed outside with orders to shoot to kill
anyone either approaching or departing this facility until this trial is
over. Lest you be concerned about casual visitors, while unlikely, a
second military detail has sealed off the road, the woods and the bog with
orders to turn away anyone who might inadvertently show up for whatever
reason be they tourist, resident or other police officer. They will be
warned and asked to leave without explanation."

          His preamble now over, His Honor asked each present to stand
one at a time, state his name, and his agency or department. The three
stooges all were CID types. Two were lawyers, and one was an investigator.
His Honor introduced all of those from Precinct house as friends of the
deceased, except for me whom he introduced as Chief of Police. He
introduced Andy also as a friend of the deceased. Sarge was introduced
as the Sargent at arms. (How appropriate)

          The Two FBI guys were actually one from FBI and the other from
Department of Justice. Bill was introduced as the brother of the deceased,
and himself as a target of inquiry.

          His Honor introduced himself as the local judge of the island,
and was known to all but the prisoners.

           The clown from the Department of Justice was asked to present
his case. What followed was a sordid tale of government drug dealing, money
laundering, murder, and coverup.

          The details would make a full story in themselves but as      the
evidence was presented by the prosecutor, key points were verified by   one
or more of those present from time to time (except of course for the    six
prisoners). For over two hours the trial dragged on, until it came to   the
details of Mike's death. When we got to this part Andy took over.

           Andy turned on the videotape and we watched without narration
forty-three minutes of interrogation, torture and the hanging of Mike,
all recorded on videotape. We saw Mike being abused, and watched him do
his dance of death at the end of the noose. We saw every graphic detail,
down to the urine dripping from his bound feet. When Andy stopped the tape,
there was not a dry eye in the house, including those of the six prisoners.

          This tape clearly showed all six taking part in Mike's execution.
There was no chance of mistaken identities. One man who was shirtless in
the video had a snake coiled around his left nipple. He should be easy
to identify. Each of the others had one or more distinguishing visual
features. Three of the prisoners could be identified fully clothed, as
they stood there shocked to watch the events for which they were being
damned, relived before their eyes.

          There were no points of order, no objections to be overruled
or sustained. The evidence was presented clearly, logically and in such
a way as to be overwhelming. All that remained was to identify the
perpetrators, and decide what to do about them.

          Quickly each of the six was identified - from the Captain who
ran the covert operation, to the men who tortured Mike and hanged him.

          Sarge saved the most dramatic for last; he calmly walked to the
prisoner with the tattoo and ripped his shirt off his chest, leaving the
tatters to hang from his shoulders, his hands still cuffed behind him.

          Next the Three Stooges got up and pronounced their intent to
seal this matter and end it with whatever judgement was rendered at this
proceeding.

           The FBI and Justice departments rose and agreed. His Honor had
made his position known. All that remained would be for the Military and
Myself to agree to keep the verdict secret. I arose and said I would concur.
His Honor looked first at me, then at Andy, Sven and finally turned to
look at Bill. Each, in turn, solemnly nodded assent as each arose in turn.
Finally the representative from the Military who sat at the end of the
bench stood in agreement. No one remained seated.

          Sarge unlocked the first cell and brought forth the Captain who
led the group. He stood him before the Judge. Sarge removed the gag. The
Captain knew by now that he was a dead man. Calmly the Judge asked if there
were any extenuating circumstances that had not been presented. Captain
Peterson (that was his name) somehow found the courage to accept the fate
for his remaining five men and asked that their lives be spared and he
would forfeit his as their leader. Having said that and offering no defense,
Sarge securely but firmly returned him to his cell.

          Each in turn was brought before the court and given a chance
to speak. The remaining five said nothing, or apologized for their role
in the proceedings. When all had said their peace, His Honor rose, and
summoned Peterson from the stockade to take the fifth chair.

          He ordered the cuffs removed and reminded Peterson to act with
the dignity becoming an officer and a gentleman.
           The first prisoner brought before the bench for sentencing was
a corporal who was a seal. That was his identifying mark which was not
all that unusual except that he had chosen to have the tattoo affixed
directly below his belly button so it appeared the seal was balancing his
belly button on the seals' nose. His hands remained bound. Andy and Bill
were asked to stand and deliver their verdicts. Each pronounced him guilty.
They were the only two asked. With that, Sarge took the prisoner and
returned him to the cell. This continued until all five had been found
guilty and returned to the cell.

          With the trial almost all over, all that remained was to pass
sentence. The chairs were removed from the platform however the table
remained in place. Andy brought a flight of stairs and when it was placed
next to the table, the top step aligned perfectly with the table top.

          Sarge removed the tablecloth from the table and when you stood
up you could see that a two trapdoors had been cut in the front of the
table. Each of the five prisoners was hooded with a spandex hood. They
would see their buddies die until their own turn came.

           The first two escorted to the gallows were the two youngest.
One was the seal with the tattoo on his belly. The other was a naval seaman
first class. The seal was positioned over the right trapdoor, the noose
affixed around his neck, his legs securely bound with black nylon rope
at the ankles and knees, his hands remaining cuffed behind his back. His
tattered shirt was cut off leaving his heaving chest exposed to the bare
light of the dungeon basement. The seaman first class who stood next to
him on the left trap was similarly bound however not having need to remove
his shirt, his chest was covered with his Olive Drab T-shirt. The shirt,
however, clung to his chiseled torso; his firm nipples clearly outlined
against the fabric. His dick suffered the same fate - he clearly had a
first class boner. Both men were noosed and the drop was set at two feet.

           With the prisoners in place, Captain Peterson was made to spring
the trap. Each trap opened cleanly, both prisoners dropping neatly through
the doors. There was no snap to their necks and both thrashed and fought
for whatever air they could before they passed out and dangled mercifully
until they expired.

           The Captain did his duty. When the first two were dead, Sarge
and Bill lifted each up while Andy reset the trap. Bill held the body while
Sarge reached up and undid the noose. The body was carried to the cell
and set on the floor.
          The procedure was repeated twice more. Two other men met a
similar fate. Finally there was only one remaining Marine and Captain
Peterson himself. The Marine took his place on the right trap and shortly
thereafter he too was hanged.

           Captain Peterson, being the only officer present, was escorted
outside the house where the four other sargents quickly seized him, and
bound his arms behind his back with a piece of rope. He was marched to
a nearby tree and a firing squad was assembled. Sarge secured Captain
Peterson to the tree, tying his legs to the tree at his ankles, and tying
his neck to the tree with a hangman's noose so that he would hang himself
when he collapsed. His waist was then tied to the tree and all was ready.

           The four sargents formed a firing squad. Captain Peterson was
given a moment to prepare himself and shortly thereafter we heard the
volley as Sarge delivered the traditional "ready, aim, FIRE!" and watched
as the Captain sagged against his bonds, his punctured OD T-shirt turning
crimson then eventually dripping blood to the ground as he too died his
death.

           We were all returned to the house and therein remained in
"custody" in the living room for about ten minutes while the five bodies
were removed from the basement. We never saw who came and got the bodies.
We heard nothing, saw no cars come or go or any other conveyance for that
matter. Finally Sarge came and gave us each brandy and reminded us that
what just happened never took place. And as each of the government
representatives left, in small groups as they came, each reminded us that
the case was closed and there would be no further retribution from their
organization or any other.

   We never saw the "three wise men" again as we came to think of them or for that matter any of
the others who were present that night except for those who lived on the island. Andy took a
month leave and so did Sarge and they went west to Montana for a month where they rode in the
high mountains hunting and fishing. Over time, Andy became a human being again. I think the
catharsis of the execution was just what Andy needed although he never mentioned that night ever
again. Shortly after his return from their month-long vacation, Sarge retired from the military and
joined the police force. His Honor died two months ago after a long illness. I retired from the force
a year ago, finished my law degree and Steve took my place as Chief. Bill and I moved out of
Precinct house although I still own it. Steve has a few new recruits who live with him now in
Precinct house and Andy still lives with Sarge. (Although I understand that Andy has spent more
than one night in the basement paying his dues.) Every so often Bill and I stop in to see the Boys
as we have come to think of them. This last November I ran for judge and got elected. And now
Bill and I are looking for a boy of our own. I think I know just the stud. There's this young kid,
really a good guy, but still always getting in trouble who I see in court before me from time to
time. I think I'll turn him over to Andy for a year or so and then once he's broken in, well, by then
we'll be ready for a houseboy. I think His Honor would approve.

				
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