Five Aces, Part 3

By Elias Tobias

Third in a four-part series
“Good afternoon, Mr. McDonald,” greeted a large, stocky man with glasses and a deep baritone voice. He stretched out his hand to meet Malcolm’s.
“Nice to see you again, Mr. Cook,” Malcolm said as he felt a firm grip. The exchange was brief, but was still an indication of how much of Kroeson was in both of them. “Mr. Cook, this is my wife, Georgia. Georgia, meet Mr. Kowalski, the school director, and Mr. Cousins, the chairman of the board at Kroeson,” Malcolm said as the men gently shook her hand.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Kowalski and Mr. Cousins. Mr. Cook, I parked in your parking space.”
“You parked the car?” he asked.
“Yes, Malcolm was tired of driving and I drove for the last 45 minutes,” she explained.
“Malcolm, your wife will fit right in at Kroeson, even if it will become a resort instead of a school of boys,” Mr. Cousins said.
“Let’s sit down at the table and talk business,” suggested Mr. Cook. Mr. Cook owned 57 percent of the corporation that operated Kroeson Military Academy.
Without ceremony, the transfer of all liabilities and assets of Kroeson Military Academy was signed to Malcolm McDonald, including the right to use the registered crest and emblem of the school to represent the new resort Malcolm planned. The three men left the property and locked the gate behind them with all the keys to the buildings, the gate, and the key to the success of the institution in Malcolm’s hands.
Such a historic change was not documented by words or photographs for the benefit of the public and the town of Millbrook that depended so much on the school in the past. Perhaps there was no need for such action because in a place the size of Millbrook, newspapers and television news reported about life outside the village. The local grapevine was sufficient to meet the village’s communications needs.
Georgia sat comfortably in one of the old leather chairs in the large office. Her legs were bent over the arm rests. Her skirt fell naturally and exposed a portion of her thighs. She looked at Malcolm who was viewing his property from the Director’s Office window. “So you have it all, Mr. Success. Let’s celebrate,” she suggested.
He turned his head and saw her in the chair. “My very thought. Let’s take a tour of the school,” he decided. He walked toward her and held out his hand. She sat properly in the high-backed chair under protest and accepted his hand. He pulled her up and they walked out of the building. “We have a lot of work to do before we open up,” Malcolm said as he pushed the outside door. It slowly closed with a long moan. “We need to oil the door hinge,” he reminded himself as he opened the car door and removed a brief case. He retrieved a note pad and clip board, and made some notes. Then he placed the case back into the automobile. “Let’s go,” he said to his wife, who had her right arm around his waist.
They walked together past several other dormitories and the library. He pointed out historical aspects of the buildings not mentioned in the brochure . They went to the mess hall, and Georgia noticed the tables were still neat and clean. “They always were,” Malcolm replied .
He pointed out the history and science halls, and told his wife of the classes he had. He detailed the varied experiences he had concluding with the sentence, “I was only disciplined four times by Mr. Harvey. He drilled holes in the board to make it sting. ”
“Once should have been enough, ” Georgia said.
“The Five Aces had a contest that year to see who could get whacked the most. It was a test of pain and resistance, ” Malcolm explained .
“Who won?” she asked.
“I did.”
“Of course, you were the leader,” she reasoned .
“I always win, ” he said as he pinched her ass with a smile.
“Let ‘ s go to the lake . It ‘ s pretty there . We ‘ 11 go for a boat ride, ” Malcolm suggested.
“I ‘d love a boat ride. You row, ” she accepted. They walked slowly, taking in the atmosphere offered by the scent of tree sap. “You aren’t taking any notes,” she said.
“Yes I am. I’ll write them down later, ” he said as the 15 -acre lake came into view .
“You were right . It’s magnificent . Look at the sun reflect over there, ” she said as she moved her hand. “It looks so peaceful. You were right to make this into a resort. We could have parties by the building over there,” she suggested.
“That’s the boat house. It would be a great place to serve steaks over a grill,” he added as they approached the side of the lake. He saw a young girl on a boat rowed by a young boy in a Kroeson uniform. He stopped. He heard voices from bushes nearby. They were whispers, but he could distinctly hear every word.
“We better get back. They’re going to miss us for morning inspection,” Terry Reed suggested.
“Wait. I just want to look at her. I know she likes me. I could tell by the way she looked at me when she first got here. Some shit head told her about me I guess. She’s either playing hard to get,” he s
“Or she don’t like you,” David Lacey said.
“She likes me, and I’m going to get her.”
“Malcolm, sir, inspection’s at 0830, in 20 minutes,” Terry informed the leader. Malcolm earned the rank of Sgt. First class, and liked to be called “sir.”
“That’s enough time,” he said desperately, “Mark has to get back, too. Let’s go to the boathouse and wait for them,” he ordered.
Without hesitation they moved away from the bushes. He turned his head to the voices and a wild rabbit darted in front of them from the growth of trees. “It’s just a rabbit, dear,” Georgia said. “You look like you saw a ghost.”
The Five Aces were in their senior year, and Mark Busch was in his second year at the school. The week was visitor’s week, a bi-yearly event meant to bring old friends together and promote the school. Malcolm was walking out the gymnasium when he first saw Lillian in the back seat of her father’s car. Visitors were off limits to cadets unless they were invited to join the families at formal functions. The boat ride was a private moment for Mark and Lillian.
“Let’s go to the boathouse,” he said to Georgia. He smiled, “and plan a party.” They walked around the lake to a small wooden and stone structure with an open porch 30 feet away from the dock that was filled with rowboats. A door to the building suddenly closed with a loud crack. It echoed for a second and disappeared into the air.
“Just the wind,” Georgia comforted as she held his body closer to her.
Malcolm heard children’s voices as he looked around eagerly searching for their location. “Terry, you grab the girl. David, see if Terry needs help,” a young Malcolm ordered.
“Yes, sir,” they said in unison.
“We’ll go to the storage shed behind the boathouse. Mike, you clear off a table, find a rope and tie Mark up. Make sure he won’t get loose. The rest of you, hold Lillian down. If she screams, hit her hard. Put a handkerchief in her mouth, and in Mark’s too. I’ll get her, even if she cries,” the young Malcolm continued. The old Malcolm could not see anybody around.
“Follow me,” he said to Georgia as he started to walk to the rear of the boathouse. He walked fast, and left Georgia several paces behind him.
“Wait for me,” she ran with her high heeled shoes. They stuck in the soft grass.
He opened the flimsy door of the shack, and peered inside. A table covered with equipment that was covered by dust filled most of the room. He looked as Georgia approached him. He looked back at the table and the dust-covered gear was gone.
Mark was tied to a post and was gagged. The Kroeson crest appeared at the corner of the handkerchief. The sophomore jerked his body in an effort to save his sister held down by three other cadets. Her blouse was torn and several pairs of hands were touching her exposed breasts. Her legs were spread apart and her yellow and white dress was rolled back to expose her panties. An 18-year old cadet, Malcolm McDonald, stood between the 15-year old girl’s legs. Her screams were muted by a gag similar to her brother’s.
Malcolm quickly unfastened his black belt and unzipped his gray trousers inches away from her body. His flesh was soon exposed and he touched her panties. She screamed louder as his fingers rolled in her vagina. Her eyes were closed in pain and her face was red. Mark tossed more violently. Terry punched him in the stomach, and Mark groaned as he doubled over.
Malcolm entered Lillian with the force of an athlete as if he were lifting weights. He used clean hard strokes and breathed heavily after each one. His eyes were tight with intensity. His
hands were like steel on her thighs, locking their hips together. After a long “AHHHHHHH”, Malcolm stopped. Terror filled Lillian’s eyes as they looked at each other.
“Don’t tell anyone, I mean anyone, or your brother won’t graduate. Understand?” he asked the child. She nodded quickly as she heard the orders. “That goes for you, too, Mark,” Malcolm said as he turned around and saw the boy’s hatred for the leader flare in his face. “Breathe a word, and she’s dead!” Malcolm threatened. He turned around, pulled up his trousers and said, “We’re late for inspection.” The boys left the room and she covered her face with her free hands, squelching any screams of agony. She slowly sat up and removed her gag. She bent over and sobbed.
“Is everything okay?” a voice from behind startled the older Malcolm. Georgia caught up to him.
“Now it is,” as he wrapped his arms around her waist. “I just wanted to check to see what was in here.”
“Let’s go back in town and get something to eat. I’m hungry,” she said as she looked at her gold digital watch. “It’s time to eat anyway.”
“You should have finished your lunch,” Malcolm said.
“I know, but . . .”
“There’s a fantastic restaurant in town. I need to talk to the chef anyway about working for us. He can cook anything perfectly. I love his French cuisine,” the older Malcolm said as he turned from the shack. They walked back to the administration building. “I’m going to tear the shack down after I oil the door,” he said as he locked the heavy oak gate to the building.

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