Buried Values TM
Buried Values TM

Excerpts from Buried Values written by Joshua Adam Weiselberg

BURIED VALUES: The Treasure

This exclusive excerpt is not avaiable to read anywhere else!

Chapter 38

 

              A young officer with intense eyes and long wavy brown hair presented himself in his blue uniform in front of his commanding officer as the latter man finished reading a personal letter. They stood in a field not far from the tents of their base camp in Kentucky. Winthrop returned his salute as the two exchanged appropriate formalities.

               “Lieutenant Jonathon Talbot reporting as ordered, Sir.”

               “Lieutenant, do you want to die?”

               “Sir?”

               “Jack, what I mean is, is this what you signed up for? Did you have this overwhelming desire to commit suicide by riding your horse into Rebel muskets?”

               “Are we dropping the formalities here, Dan?”

               Winthrop sighed, mostly because he long since wearied of dealing with all the military discipline. “Yeah, Jack, you can speak freely.”

               “I signed on with you back in Wisconsin so as to avoid being called a coward. We were supposed to be actually taking responsibility for ourselves after that first big fiasco. I thought I could take the pay you promised that our original plan would make us, remake myself into a hero, and then return home to marry any girl I wanted.”

               “That’s great. A man with truly far reaching motives and ambitions.”

               Talbot caught the other’s cynicism. “Alright,  Dan. What are you in this for?”

               “Opportunities. Wars create opportunities, and I think I’ve been nurturing the greatest one.”

               “What do you mean?” Jack stroked his light down beard that had just started filling in.

               “I’ve been secretly corresponding with Pratt’s Confederate girlfriend.”

               “He’s sending letters behind the lines? You’re going to blackmail him, aren’t you? Then bypass him up to make ‘major’ before he gets a chance to blink at Tithing’s back. Sir, if you’re looking for someone to replace you as troop captain, we’ve served together since training in Wisconsin and-”

               “You want to die with another bar on your shoulder patch? That’s what the system’s done to you, Jack. You can’t see beyond the military any more and the extent of your imagination is restrained by its discipline. Well, fortunately for both of us, I can see well beyond my uniform,” Winthrop snorted.  “I’ve been corresponding with this girl for more than a month now and I’ve convinced her that Pratt is dead. Now she wants to meet with me.”

               “Where is she?”

               “Gulfport, Mississippi right now.”

               “Mississippi? You’re not thinking of doing anything stupid, Dan?”

               “You wanted command a minute ago. I’m going to give you your big opportunity while I’m away. I’ll count on you to hold this troop together and give Tithing no cause to give us a reviewing. I’ll only be gone a short while. You see, this Miss Hutchinson and her family are originally from Georgia. They’re traveling with a whole wagon convoy of wealthy plantation owners turned into war refugees, and they’ve temporarily holed up in Gulfport. The whole lot of them are carrying everything they own.”

               “If you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking, Dan, I’m sure they’re armed.”

               “Of course. But who are we? The Union’s drum line? After I first lead our troop on a little mission detour, our boys will be more than well-armed and prepared. For now, you’ll take them on to catch up with Grant in the Cumberland while I scout out the situation in Mississippi. This is why I handpicked all my NCOs. Now, you’re to recruit everyone whom you think will go along with a little unauthorized excursion I have planned. They’ve already been expecting this.”

               Talbot turned suddenly pale. “You’re asking the men to risk a firing squad if they get caught now. This is war time! It’s desertion.”

               “No. It’s actually the most sensible way to not wind up getting shot. If I’m right, the men won’t face anything other than a wealthy retirement in Old Mexico, well beyond Lincoln’s jurisdiction. Think about it Jack. The biggest score ever is just waiting, packed up for us, like a treasure already hitched to horses, and we know exactly where it’s going. It’s almost free money! It doesn’t get any prettier than this. Or do you want to stick around here with General Grant, chasing “Dixie” every time it’s played up and down these bloody rivers? Haven’t you seen enough of this war?”

               Jack Talbot nodded, staring off into the distance, a thoughtful, unfocused expression on his face.

               “Don’t think there aren’t those who are profiting by this war back in New York. From the arms makers, who love their military contracts, right down to the carpenters pounding out pine boxes. And if the war goes on forever, so does their business - fueled by an endless supply of displaced immigrants looking for their next potato. All I’m proposing is that we make our own profit and fill our own trunks, instead of their pine boxes.”

               It all made sense to the lieutenant. If he didn’t take control, his own future looked dark indeed. “I’ll handle the men,” Talbot finally said in a voice barely above a whisper.

 

 

BURIED VALUES: The Library

This exclusive excerpt is not avaiable to read anywhere else!

 

Chapter 14

 

The girl arrived at the Godfather’s office with express. A woman did not often get an audience with Signor Saul Lucia Petrone Delasandro unless the man had business with her, and all the implications that went with that.

 

In the hallway, Sonny offered the patronizing smile of a chauvinist pig as he escorted her in. When he pinched her ass as she moved past him in a short and tight, backless black minidress, he seemed confounded by the confident smile she directed right back at him. The girl carried herself like she knew she had complete control over the situation. She enjoyed his confusion. She hoped her illusion could also fool Petrone.

 

She had only been in the office once before, and had been subsequently banished when she resisted the middle-aged Petrone’s advances. It was almost insufferable to acknowledge her relation to him. But her status as immediate family established her legitimacy with being involved in the business – that along with all the extraordinary work she’d done to establish herself as inexpendable.

 

“Hell-oh,” he said pleasantly as his eyes surveyed her walk into the room. She felt him undress her in his mind. Inwardly she groaned. “Leave us,” he told Sonny and several other men who had already been occupying the private study. Sonny didn’t look very happy about that as he paused to stare coldly at the girl, before complying with the order and abruptly making his exit, closing the office door behind him. She supposed it had been his greatest wish to watch her being humiliated before Petrone. Today is not your day, Sonny. She hoped it would be hers.

 

Petrone had returned to reading some papers on his desk while without an invitation the girl took a seat in one of the rear chairs opposite it, and crossed her legs. She saw Petrone’s eyes flicker from his reading to track the movement of her exposed flesh, then rapidly return to his first point of focus, probably hoping she hadn’t noticed that she’d distracted him. That way he wouldn’t have to address the lack of respect she paid him, either. Obviously he waited to address something of greater consequence with her, so he wouldn’t make a point about protocol right now. But his disinterested act had been of no use and he couldn’t restore his concentration on what she saw to be some accounting ledgers. He looked up at the girl again and noticed she now regarded the family portraits that decorated three of the private office’s walls. Some of the men wore formal military clothing. One man in a baseball uniform stood out.

 

“Ah yes, the legacy of The Family,” he said. “They’d be quite proud of you in spite of your limitations, being a woman.”

 

“Of course. Thank you, Signor,” she responded. Arrogant sexist bastard, she thought. She quickly finished the consideration of those that came before her, and how everything they’d worked all their lives to establish, would soon rightfully belong to her. Petrone, just an inconvenience she needed to deal with, before she got him out of her way.

 

But the truth be told, he frightened her. His welcoming appearance, charm, and polite demeanor hid ruthless guile she was already well aware of. How many had he killed in his rise to the position he now held in The Borgata? She had better play her cards close to that voluptuous chest of hers that Petrone now stared at. He set down the paperwork and came around from behind his desk. He motioned to the couches, “Please. We’ll be more comfortable over here.”

 

The girl decided to comply with Petrone for now. The seating arrangement wouldn’t be worth challenging him over. She always had to choose her battles carefully in order to survive. She’d had no childhood being raised in this family. But before she moved, the man caught her eyes’ final gaze over to a photograph of a beautiful, dark-haired woman residing in a standing frame on the Godfather’s desk. There were other pictures of women, displayed on the library shelves in varying degrees of pornography. But this image had the distinction of being a portrait, like the portraits of the family’s matriarchs that were also hung on the walls. And this photo stood as the only image resting on the Godfather’s desk in a place of reverence.

 

“Hmmm. I see you like that picture. There lies the lovely Concettina,” he said.

 

“My mother,” the girl responded softly.

 

“Yes,” Petrone also replied in a quieted voice that suggested his thoughts carried him away for a moment. “May she rest in peace,” he said somberly. “You know your mother was loved dearly by this family.”

 

The girl waited patiently for him to continue as she stepped down into the recessed seating area he once more motioned her towards. She took a position in the center of the couch. The girl hoped her partner in this conversation would then sit in the sofa opposite hers while they conversed. He did not.

 

Petrone eased onto the cushion immediately next to hers and tuned all of his kind attentions towards her and the story he now began to feed her. “There were three brothers who were heirs to this house. They all were in love with the same woman. Our dear, dear late Concettina. And might I add that you are as beautiful as your mother,” he interjected to his narrative. He paused lost in thought for the moment, his mind in another place at another time.

 

“Thank you,” the girl said in response, uncomfortable with the man sitting so close and his left hand reaching around to rub her bare shoulder. She tightened her hands together which she kept in her lap, now consciously aware of the weight of two 9 millimeters she carried, one up in each thigh-high holster she wore beneath her skirt. If she ever wanted to touch something under her dress… but if she could wait until later, there’d definitely be a time for that she promised herself. Right now she needed information crucial to her plans.

 

Petrone continued, deciding to change the subject as he remembered to get back to covering business. “Well, if we’re going to dwell on the past, I’ve just been looking over the bookkeeping. By way of recruiting your former high school friends into our online pornography and escort businesses, you’ve managed to keep The Family’s interests in those areas very profitable. We’re providing the youngest girls, best-looking, and well-trained too.” He grinned. “This putting us well ahead of the competition.”

 

“Thank you,” she said again.

 

“However, I’m sure you didn’t come to Louisiana just to receive my accolades. You want more responsibilities, a broader role in the greater syndicate. Right? Becoming a fully active member of this family is what brought you to Baton Rouge, I’ve no doubt.”

 

She nodded.

 

“Well, you got all my attention. That’s definitely because you’ve managed to secure away every account in our sex services and also to include those of all the small business fronts you’re using to launder the money with. And you hid it all away from The Family, somewhere, accessible to only yourself. Our people here haven’t even begun to track it all as of yet, and I only hope the authorities don’t, since in the meanwhile, you’re transferring what the government calls ill-gotten gains across state lines from all your locations you’ve expanded your filming studios and escort services to – without any supervision. And at your age. Though I’m sincerely surprised and impressed, this will not be permitted by The Family. Plus, we employ our own lawyers while you’ve been using outside counsel. And I’ve just come to learn your attorney recently died. A little domestic quarrel?” Petrone raised his eyebrows and feigned concern. “And then you also went into business with a cop? Now he’s conveniently dead and your estate will absorb those holdings too. But if something were to happen to you, how could anyone else administer those assets? All businesses owned by any member of this house are under the joint care and custody of The Borgata. Could your activities lead any law enforcement we don’t control straight down on top of this family? And with the very public nature of your entertainment career, this Gianna Capello character you’ve created for the tabloids, you appear way too much in the public eyes for what I am comfortable with. The paparazzi following your Capello persona around everywhere and the like.”

 

“This is about what I’m comfortable with,” the girl replied evenly, now daring to make her stand and test Petrone. She was perturbed that his spies had learned so much about her and her private business dealings. Inwardly, she was also angry with herself too, but she really had a strong inclination to take it out on him.

 

“Insolent…” he clenched his fists and his expression grew angry in that instant as well, and then it evened as he found his calm center again, along with his tongue, which Petrone had to bite. The girl felt a spike of fear from arousing his ire, but assured herself that she never displayed it. But her legs must have moved, because Petrone noticed it, and placed a hand on her knee, letting his eyes wander up her legs over what showed of the trim shape of her thighs, extending from beneath her dress skirt. She knew she played with fire.

 

As her eyes tightened and her lips drew together to suppress the extremely hostile grimace her emotions wanted to strike him with, Petrone was quick to read her non-verbal signals and withdrew his hand. He returned to directing the business conference. “There needs to be open access and transparency within The Family, my dear.”

 

Do his words convey a double-meaning? the girl wondered.

 

“You and your lawyer shut us out no sooner than you’d secured your late father’s fortune. That’s The Family’s assets. You’d have been well-taken care of.” He must have forced himself to smile at the girl.

 

“How is that? I had no relationship with the rest of this house and never felt like even an afterthought while I was growing up. And have you any idea what that was like? No one ever made one goddamned move to protect me!” she spit out, letting her anger flash for just a second. “On top of that,” she continued, “I’m not a child anymore and especially not any kind of fool. The brothers never regarded my father as an equal with them. His political position allowed him to become a convenience you all could exploit.”

 

“You don’t know the truth about your father, do you? You really think you are that man’s daughter? It should be obvious that even at your young age you are way too crafty to have inherited your guile from that weakling’s seed.”

 

She stared at him, feeling surprised but captivated. This was unexpected. There were plenty of secrets she never learned about her family. “Go on,” the girl said.

 

“Concettina, God rest her soul, was merely a common consort shared by a select few, and mainly the brothers. She became the favorite woman of the strongest for a while. Then the man you knew as your father took her in and protected her when she became pregnant - with you. At the time, it was first expected she carried a son. You see, a mistake occurred due to an error made by one of our aspiring young doctors taking the sonogram. You turned in the womb. But Concettina was special in how she was revered by all the brothers. Loved in fact. Though I’m afraid that as a younger man, your real father had not the patience to become a husband and a parent.” Petrone sighed. “So when a daughter was born, you and your mother were given over to be looked after by the weakest brother, he having already volunteered as it were. Though I can see how strong you’ve turned out, in spite of anything he tried or failed to accomplish with raising you. But you should be grateful to this house. Because you were Concettina’s daughter, and only because of that, you were allowed to grow up in a traditional household, like no bastard of The Borgata ever has before you. You are special, and I recognize your potential.” He licked his lips, drinking in the sight of her sitting next to him. He brought his hand that caressed her shoulder up to gently stroke her cheek for a moment. “So like my Concettina,” he said, his eyes looking deep into hers.

 

The girl felt she must have stared back at him incredulously, though she made a valiant effort to maintain a poker face.

 

“In any case, maintaining the strength of this house and defending its honor is usually left to the sons. I saw it fit to make an exception in your case as you have proven you have unique capabilities for one of our women. But truthfully, don’t you recognize your family here, all around you?”

 

The girl shook her head ‘no,’ not sure who he referred to. The pictures perhaps?

 

“Sonny, the others, many of the girls,” he gestured beyond the doors to the study. “They are the children of The Borgata.” The young lady couldn’t help but widen her eyes and leave her mouth agape as he explained further, now running his hand from her shoulder and down her back. So intent on concentrating on what he said, she arrived at an awareness of the man untying the draw string top to her dress too late. She moved to pull away, but he slowly shook his head no, nudged her back towards him, and continued talking. “Their mothers, they are all consorts of the brotherhood, some cousins, maybe twice removed,” he shrugged. “The offspring who show the aptitude have the necessary documents created for them and they are sent to school like you. You all are the public face of our family. We not only have our own accountants and lawyers like myself, but our over-achievers are engineers, scientists, and in the medical profession as well. So no questions need ever be asked about a pregnancy or a birth record for a child brought into The Borgata. He or she receives the proper professional care. But there is no record of birth. They have no status as citizens. They do not even exist. There is no escape, either. They serve their family, making our business associates comfortable and content with the way The Borgata runs its operations, and it’s the real family of these most fortunate bastard children that’s providing them a quality life for them they wouldn’t ordinarily have enjoyed in foster care, given up for adoption. Together, everyone strengthens The Family. And I should say, it is rather clever how with the implementation of this process, we are never caught human trafficking and yet can supply all the young mistresses for the governors and the boy toys for the pedophile priests that they ever want, and we extend our influence far beyond just our own parish boundaries. Then the criminals find religion in prison, because we can bring out the crime in religion, and religion is the opiate of the masses – additionally, of course, to the other opiates we employ the ex-felons to sell to them out of religious charities and halfway houses we also fund.” He laughed.

 

“But crime against this family can never be tolerated. And I must make myself absolutely clear. This is where you are directly concerned.” He pointed a finger at her.

 

The girl felt her fear rise again after momentarily being subdued by her curiosity. Conscious of it, well beyond her annoyance that Petrone now ran his finger down the crack of her back, to wiggle it between her butt cheeks and was probably getting aroused by that, she felt genuine fear for her life and it suddenly became less consequential if he only meant to try and force himself on her again. Had Petrone replaced the surveillance devices she’d removed from her room and learned about her true plans from eavesdropping on her conversation with Demetrius? Or had the street captain ratted on her in his haste to vent his frustration, or restructure his alliances he showed so much contempt for? Petrone would kill her if he knew of her part in any plot resulting from that. She kept eye contact with him, trying to read his thoughts as she became very much aware of his left index finger sliding over her anus and inserting itself in her vagina. His right hand had now returned to her knee and was gaining altitude up her bare legs, in between her smooth thighs, but paused when she felt him make contact with the extra ammo cartridges she carried for her matching pair of Kel-Tecs. She saw Petrone’s mouth twitch as though he’d fought the urge to swallow and instead of using his right hand to play near her twin guns, he slid it up her body, finger tracing along her midriff, to then peel away her dress and begin to play with her pair of perfectly rounded breasts instead. The teasing of her bared skin did have its appeal, but the girl kept conscious of the danger she was in. His right hand occupied itself very close to where he could use it to clench her throat. In this situation, she would not get turned on, but her urgent need for information, to keep Petrone talking, guided her to be most cautious with her next actions.

 

“It was many years ago, during the same time as the Armistice that ended the Great War, when those hillbillies, the Mastersons, wronged this family good. Our forbearers had just left behind them a war-torn Europe and bravely undertook the challenge of making a life for our people here in America. Your school you got the privilege to attend. It was built then, through the blood, sweat, and witty financing of your great-great grandparents who came here from Sicily. But of course they were never publically credited. America ignored and segregated its Italian immigrants and left them to their own devices. But by then, our family had also sworn a blood oath to burn every last Masterson, and they brought it with them to this country’s shores. Now by circumstances, this honor duty falls to you.

 

“But this one guy…this guy… is one piece of work. He doesn’t know who he’s dealing with. He sought us out. Can you believe it?” Petrone didn’t hide his elation concerning this turn of events, and he suddenly used both his hands to grasp the girl behind her neck and draw her into him to force their kiss. He looked very happy with himself.

 

“Now I want you to go play with him. He’s going for this treasure The Borgata is acting as if it’s interested in. But this ditchpig hasn’t the slightest inclination of what we’re really after while he’s busy playing school. It’s so ironic. A member of the family of our oldest enemy is the one who’s actually going to lead us to ultimate power. Power over everything!” Petrone grew drunk on too much of his own ego, the girl thought. But what could possibly be this power he’s going on about?

 

She tried to keep her face away from his mouth so they could continue to talk, but when she placed his hands back on her shoulders, they immediately lost altitude and moved to strip her of her dress entirely. The majority of her clothing gone, she felt extremely vulnerable in spite of the fact that in addition to her purple lace lingerie and black clasping stockings, she also wore two 9 mm semi-automatics – of which she presently had no good excuse to make use of. She suspected Petrone got turned on by a strong and independent woman when what he usually feasted on was who she had now learned were really her docile and demure bastard cousins. But Sonny and a few of her other more dangerous male cousins, wanna-be Dons she was sure, were just outside. She had no plan of escape, nor the kind of preparation required to take over this kind of unimaginably extensive organization. She required access to all the other accounts, into Petrone’s coveted books and password protected mainframe. She coveted that power so much now that it was consuming her. Her tormentor desired the same information regarding her businesses, so she thought she could tame Petrone’s more carnal desires of her by finishing him off quickly, getting him to spill out what she needed and then some.

 

She unwrapped his erection and wetted it in her mouth, then began to work it with both hands, but Petrone managed to get her bra off of her with his concurrent effort. He smiled at that and glanced over to look at the picture of Concettina on the Godfather’s desk. One climax and he should fall asleep, the girl thought, figuratively growing sick as she continued to be aware of the older man’s fantasies concerning her mother. She lowered her mouth onto his cock and used it to keep him prostrate, happily stimulated, while her hands reached up and unbuttoned his shirt and pulled the cloth away from his furry chest. She caught a strong scent of his cologne, and just as she suspected, her glance up confirmed that he wore a security device on the end of his gold necklace. A resetting code cylinder, it corresponded with the locks on the safe and his computer’s hard drive. The current code on the necklace had to be entered within so many seconds once she logged on or she’d be locked out of all the information she so desperately wanted.

 

She needed to know everything. Expecting he’d shut down and rest when he climaxed, she asked him to tell her more about his plans for revenge upon the Mastersons and obtaining ultimate power. He seemed to be aroused from talking about that almost as much as he was by viewing her bare breasts he now found so fascinating.

 

“I want you on the inside,” he mumbled out.

 

The girl prompted him to go on further, unsure if he’d just made a sexual reference or discussed his future plans. “I made my connections in the archaeology department at the university. I’m certain a secret field expedition is serving as the cover for this treasure hunt I think you’re asking me to participate in,” she said, removing his organ from clogging her mouth.

 

“Keep going,” he said. The girl, pretty certain that this time he meant what she had been doing with his dick. She spit on him to wet it and continued to manipulate his shaft with her hands for the moment.

 

“The professor outfitted his own unofficial expedition and got students to assist him by calling it an internship. Equipment must first be gathered and some historic documents analyzed before any attempt to venture onto the actual dig site is undertaken. But I will recover those artifacts that you’re after,” she assured him, glancing around at the knights, statues, paintings and tapestries that adorned what had become the Godfather’s massage parlor. She imagined they must have been worth a lot to someone. To her, the Civil War artifacts might be worth her entrance to The Borgata’s inner circle. The Godfather obviously held some eccentric values.

 

“You’re known to finish what you start,” Petrone said, breaking a sweat and starting to glow from the workout the girl provided his cock. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at his face, his eyes closed and his mouth curved into a tight smile. “But it’s not the artifacts and useless baubles I want. Go for them too if you have the opportunity, they’d be worth your while if you can rise to the occasion of actually obtaining any of them, but it’s the mail that I have to have.”

 

“What?” This surprised her and she changed the rhythm she worked his prong to delay his climax.

 

Distracted from his slide into bliss, his condition enabled him to explain some more. “I need the letters. The old journal entries. Military orders. Whatever they’re using. And as soon as possible. This is paramount. The key to great power lies within them!” He gasped and then sprayed his juices out in spurts that fell backward to add white stains on his pants and splash the girl’s bare legs. The older man moaned and stretched out on the sofa, unbending his own legs, while she milked his penis, straddling him, topless, herself undressed for the most part.

 

She wanted to know more. What is so important about these letters? And as she glanced at his rapidly rising and falling chest, she fixated on his necklace. She needed that device! But she’d underestimated the rigor of Signor Petrone and he pushed up off the couch, grabbing her and bending her over the sofa, pulling aside her panty bottom and drilling into her body from behind. Not ready for him, her insides chafed with his every thrust and his clumsy effort to manipulate her clitoris, all to her anguish. She had lost all control and the feeling of her useless twin Kel-Tecs slapping against her legs as they bounced around in their holsters from Petrone’s repeated thrusts into her vagina, reminding her that she was the impotent one for now.

 

Seeing her plans all the way through would be her only recourse for escape and retaliation. Added to that, this possible attainment of absolute power that the older man had spoken of. But she gained no more knowledge for her pain and suffering that went on with all of the rest of the abuse that she endured at his hands during the next several hours. Still, it was only a matter of time and a little more sacrifice, and then she could execute her plans for her ultimate revenge.

 

BURIED VALUES: Book 3

The mystery gets revealed...

 

 Spring  2017!

BURIED VALUES: The Outlaws!

                                  (Book 4)

 

Daniel Winthrop and Robert Masterson ride again!

 

Coming towards the end (of) 2018!

BURIED VALUES: The Recovery

Coming to you in 2017!

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