Team Manager 1: SWISH!
Chapter 21
“WHAT ON EARTH got into you, Will? That girl is fifteen years old. If you do or have done anything with her, you’ll not only get a divorce, you’ll go to jail!” Dot was steaming. That was not a good way to wake up in the middle of the night.
Will stood from the drawer in his nightstand holding a handgun.
“Will, no!”
He looked down at the weapon and laid it gently on the nightstand.
“Dottie, it’s not for you or me or anyone in our home unless there is a home invasion,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “It’s because of what that girl told me. There wasn’t anything unholy going on between us. She’s a sweet kid and I’m glad she’s Dennis’s girlfriend. Number however many.”
“What did she tell you?”
“You know her older brother is one of the three boys who were the ringleaders in the abuse our son went through last year.” Dot nodded. “She didn’t tell us all she overheard last night. I think she planned to get me aside to talk to tomorrow and it happened that I was coming out of the bathroom just as she arrived to go in.”
“That’s a convenient coincidence,” Dot growled.
“Just as convenient a coincidence as you happening to come out of our bedroom just as she asked me to protect myself and hugged me.”
“Protect yourself from what?” Now Dot was getting worried for other reasons.
“She said she heard them talking about their plans to kill me and kidnap Dennis next Saturday. The thing is, I believe her. It wouldn’t be the first run-in I’ve had with Lee Smith.”
“You mean since you charged into the school last spring and got the whole basketball season terminated and those three boys expelled,” Dot snorted. Actually, she’d been right beside him and if Lee Smith thought he could take her husband and her son, she’d be right beside him again. Dot stopped to breathe. She didn’t think she’d be going through the change so early in life. She was not yet forty. But this rapid mood change made even her dizzy.
“Since then,” Will whispered. Dot sat on the bed next to him and stroked his arm.
“The baseball bat? It was you?” she asked. He nodded.
“He and those other two had chased Den down. You remember the night his Coach came and called the sheriff? Well, it was obvious the sheriff wasn’t going to do anything, so I started following Smith, lying in wait for him to make a mistake so I could slip up on him.” Will heaved a deep breath and lay down on the bed, pulling Dot with him. “That night, I followed him into town and saw him follow a girl into the back of Johnson’s yard. I figured it was a girlfriend meeting him, so I followed. Then I saw that she wasn’t a friend of his because he tried to grab her. I just swung the bat and connected. The other punk, the really big musclebound one, started for us from the back of the C-Store with a gun. I told the girl to run and I ran away as well. If it hadn’t been for the punk with a gun, I’d have stayed and beaten that kid until I was sure I finished him. It wasn’t until a couple of weeks ago that we met when she was leaving here and we recognized each other. I’ve been worried she’d spill that I was the one who hit him.”
“What was she doing behind the Johnsons’?”
“She had a camera. The more I thought about it, the more I decided she was spying on them—collecting evidence against her brother. I haven’t dared go back there since then. It was obvious they’d set a trap for her and would have grabbed her that night if I hadn’t been following Smith,” Will said.
“Will, what are you going to do with your handgun?” Dot asked.
“Exactly what it’s intended for. I’m going to protect my family and my life. Dot, you and Peg could be in danger as well as Den and me. Think about it. If they grabbed either of you, I wouldn’t hesitate to surrender myself in exchange. Then there would be no one left to protect the three of you the next time.”
Dot leaned against Will and hugged him.
“I need to go to the living room and tell that poor girl she can stay. I’ll tuck her in next to Dennis,” she said.
Brisco’s phone rang Monday morning. He finally had the evidence he needed to put together a strike team. Staking out the C-Store had paid off as a van pulled into the back and stopped near the door. His camera was high resolution and equipped with a low-light lens. From his position, he was at a perfect angle to even get a picture of the driver. He could put together a team now. He was surprised, though, by who was on the line.
“Agent Brisco, this is Amy,” she said. She sounded much better and calmer than she had on Saturday night when she called. He’d been about to turn and follow the boys, but stopped to creep along the street following Amy the four blocks to what appeared to be her boyfriend’s house. Well, if she was safe, he didn’t care if she was sleeping with another teen.
“Good morning, Amy. I trust you made it to safety Saturday.”
“As you know,” she answered. “You passed me while I was just going into my boyfriend’s house. But I was so upset Saturday that I didn’t tell you everything I heard.”
“I’m all ears. Please fill me in.”
“First, Lee Smith, the shortest of the three boys, is planning a murder. Specifically, he plans to murder my boyfriend’s father, Mr. Will Enders. The boys plan to grab me sometime before Saturday night and want Mr. Enders out of the way so they can grab his son as well. You might not have noticed, but my boyfriend is short and has thick glasses. He was raped by the boys last spring and all they got was expelled from school. The gang has wanted to get even with him for ratting them out ever since.”
“Why do they intend to grab both of you on Saturday?”
“Jerry—he’s the third boy and my brother—gets a drug delivery on Saturday, usually around midnight. His contact apparently runs or supplies some kind of sex trafficking operation. Jerry plans to sell us to the contact after he and the others have raped us.” Amy was breathing heavily now. “He said something about Danny Perkins being there to guard the drop. He’s the sheriff or a deputy or something.”
“Hmm. That checks out with the information I’ve gathered. Who is the father again? Enders?”
“Yes, sir. Um… He’s the one with the baseball bat in the picture I sent you.”
The penny dropped and Brisco saw how they all fit together now. “Has your brother ever mentioned you spying on him or taking pictures?”
“No. I don’t think so.”
“I’d be willing to bet he thinks the spy is your boyfriend and they know it was his dad who clobbered Smith. Is there anything else, Amy?”
“I think that’s all. Except I’m scared. They’ve tried to grab me before. What if they don’t wait until Saturday?” she asked.
“Do you have any safe place to stay? Maybe not with your boyfriend this time.”
“I could stay at my girlfriend’s house. I just need to convince my parents that it’s a good idea.”
“Do what you can. I have people in town 24/7, so don’t hesitate to call me direct if anything happens.”
“Yes, sir.”
Brisco disconnected and immediately started calling in the team. He had enough on the sheriff now to get the State Police involved if he could convince them not to jump the gun and squirrel the rest of the raid. With word of the sex trafficking, there was ample reason for the FBI to help with the operation. ATF was still seesawing about raiding the still. Their concern was that it wasn’t a big enough operation to be a concern and would only serve to call attention to their presence in the vicinity. They needed to shit or get off the pot. Brisco would happily lead his team to the still and shut it down after they dealt with the drugs and sex traffickers.
Brenda was tickled to have Amy stay with her for a week. Amy simply told her parents that her ‘big sister’ on the basketball team wanted to work with her in a special basketball camp that would last into the evenings and it would be easier if Amy just stayed with her. The week-long event would culminate with an all-day practice on Saturday and a sleepover at the home of one of the team members that night. Even she was surprised when her parents agreed. She wondered if it would be that easy if she just told them she wanted to sleep over at her boyfriend’s house.
Amy wondered sometimes at her own temerity. Before she tried out for basketball, she’d been shy and a bit of a wallflower. Then after practice one day, she’d stood in the locker room topless with Dennis right there. It made her heart race to think about it. She’d snuck out late at night to spy on a drug delivery and reported her findings to the DEA. She’d jacked off her boyfriend twice in his socks, which she still found hysterically funny, but she’d spread her legs so he could rub her clit through her pajamas. It was all she could do to keep from pushing his hand down inside her panties. Brenda had been the only one who’d gone that far with her, and Amy found her girlfriend’s pussy to be as wet and exciting as her own.
Even while she was talking on the phone, her co-conspirator, Brenda, was talking to Coach about making the training camp a reality. It was a perfect time for intensive training since there was no game this week.
Brenda placed all their cards on the table when she talked to Coach Graves. She told her straight out about the attempt on Amy and the gross way the punks had masturbated on her pillow. And she told Ardith about the threatened murder of Mr. Enders, and intended kidnapping of both Amy and Dennis this weekend. She felt neither Amy nor Dennis would be safe if they weren’t surrounded all the time.
Ardith listened intently. She wanted to protect the kids and thought that if Amy and Dennis were in danger, the rest of the girls probably were as well. She’d even start driving some of them home herself. She thought about the handgun in her glove compartment and shuddered. The compartment was locked unless she was in the car. She would make sure it was unlocked when she was in the car from now on.
Amy stuck her head in Coach’s office after her gym class.
“I’ve approved it, Amy. I am going to be driving some of you home this week. I’m thinking you and Brenda should stay with me instead of at her house.”
“I just wanted to tell you that I talked to my contact at the DEA and he has 24/7 surveillance in our town right now. As long as we aren’t wandering around town, we should be safe.”
Amy left and Ardith continued to think about the situation until the bell rang for the start of her next class.
Ardith did not go easy on the girls in their training camp. All the girls had called home after school, as had Dennis. All got permission to stay later for the camp. The only one she didn’t bother with was Brenda’s parents. Brenda was eighteen and could make up her own mind. Her comments about her homelife were no better than Amy’s. Well, perhaps a little better. She didn’t have anyone in her household actively looking for an opportunity to rape her and sell her into sexual slavery.
When she took the idea to Jim, it was greeted with more enthusiasm. The girls had the first winning season any team had had at Bartley in nearly twenty years. Jim had offered whatever assistance he could give. She asked for dinners for the team and Jim went to work arranging it with the boosters’ club. He hesitantly agreed to a practice game with the varsity on Saturday.
She wasn’t surprised to find a few coaches, boosters, and parents in the stands when they started practice. They wanted to see what she’d be doing with the girls. They were all surprised when Dennis walked onto the floor with the girls and began working them first on warmups, then on basic drills and shooting.
“This camp is going to get us back to the basics,” Dennis told the girls. “The game is all about knowing and doing the fundamentals well. Let’s start with the dribbling and crossovers. He pointed at the cones he’d set up at midcourt. He took his place at the end and participated with them as they dribbled forward, crossed over with their right foot behind the left and dribbled backward to the side line. Dennis blew his whistle again and they ran down dribbling to the opposite side of the cones and crossed over left foot behind the right as they rounded the cone and dribbled backward to the sideline. The girls were ready to complain after ten circuits.
“Did you all forget how hard you have to work on fundamentals to stay proficient?” he asked. “Circle up, with just enough room between you so you can dribble the ball without hitting each other. We’ll be doing ball handling in this exercise. You dribble once right and pass the ball to your left hand to dribble once. Back and forth until I shout ‘Pass!’ and pass the ball to the person on that side of you. That person will pick the ball off the pass and continue the back and forth dribbling. Let’s start right hand to left hand. Ready!” He blew the whistle. The exercise began.
“No wonder your team is so coordinated on the court,” Jim commented to Ardith. “I never drill the fundamentals at practice. I expect them to already know the fundamentals and don’t want them to waste my time on that when we need to design plays and defenses.”
“Why design plays they can’t execute?” Ardith asked. Dennis had the girls running shooting drills now and it was time for Ardith to take over. She stepped onto the court and blew her whistle. All balls dropped where they were and the team turned their attention to her.
“We’re going to start our first scrimmage,” she called to the girls. “Put the practice balls away, get a drink of water, and go pee. Then get out here in your practice jerseys. Ten minutes! First scrimmage, short against tall. Short is red and tall is blue.”
Everyone scattered to gather the balls and run for water and the bathrooms. Dennis was with them all the way and shouted encouragement as the girls disappeared. He took a badly needed leak himself and was back on the court with Ardith before the girls got there. After a quick consultation, he pulled on his red jersey.
When Dennis played with the girls, there was always a bit of risk. He really didn’t see well over the whole court. When he passed the ball, he threw it to where he knew his teammate was supposed to be, and hoped she got in front of it. Usually, she did. If she didn’t, they ran the play again, working on timing and position. It was always confusing to defenders because he wasn’t necessarily looking in the direction he threw the ball. After half an hour of this scrimmage, Coach blew her whistle. She brought the team into a huddle at the bench and they took a drink of water.
“Dennis, switch to blue point guard. Natalie, move into red center.” After a ten-minute break, they were back on the court and the ball was in action.
Jim Byers had called the other coaches together and they all had clipboards making notes on the girls’ plays and execution. “It looks like having a blind kid on their team has improved their execution over all,” Jim said. “Look at the precision of where he puts the ball and how the receiver moves into position after the ball is thrown. I’m sure the defense knows every play. We just saw him running the same offense for the other team. But how do they manage to get fooled by it every time?”
“And they know he’s going to pass,” Coach Andy said. “Someone’s going to step up and bat the ball away. Here it comes!” Brenda was determined to steal the ball and cut across court in an unexpected move toward Dennis. Dennis calmly turned away from her and as she blew past, he flipped the ball behind him. Brenda turned sharply to make another pass at Dennis and found him blocking her way as Daniella launched a three-pointer from just behind him. Brenda collided with Dennis and the whistle blew.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” she yelled as she rushed to help Dennis up off the floor. Dennis brushed himself off and gave Brenda a quick kiss.
“It’s okay,” he said. “I was braced for it and landed on my butt. It’s not as beautiful as yours, but it’s still padded.”
“God! You goof!” she laughed. Ardith called the whole team in to huddle.
“What did you learn?” she asked Brenda.
“Follow your man and not the ball,” Brenda said. She was supposed to guard Daniella but had left her to dive after the ball. Then she was cut out of position when she tried to return.
“Right. When you are playing one-on-one against your opponent, your responsibility is to guard that player. We don’t leave an unguarded player to capture a fleeting opportunity. Dennis? What did you learn?”
“Um… I’m not sure, Coach. Did I make a mistake?”
“Yes. Here’s your lesson: Don’t kiss your girlfriends on the court!” Ardith shouted, loudly enough that the coaches in the stands started laughing. Dennis turned red with embarrassment.”
“Yes, Coach,” he said.
“Now, let’s talk about what could have saved that play.” They talked strategy and Ardith had them walk through the positions and where the play had fallen apart. She showed that a good response on the part of the defense was to all rotate one position when Brenda made her break. A shout to Judith, who was defending against Dennis, would have moved her over one position and the team would have all moved to keep their player guarded. As it had been, both Judith and Brenda found themselves guarding a man who had already passed the ball.
They ran both the offense and defense on that play for half an hour before Ardith called another break.
“Coach Graves?” Mr. Dietz called as she turned toward the bench. “We have food in the cafeteria for your dinner break.” She looked at her watch and discovered they’d been on the court for two and a half hours. She whistled the team in for an hour dinner break.
“That’s mighty impressive,” Jim said as he and the other four coaches came down off the bleachers. “What inspired you to practice like this? I mean drilling a single exercise for so long?”
“Oh. My coach and mentor at Winston had us review games from all over.”
“Schools?”
“Colleges, high schools, NBA, and Olympics. I picked up this tidbit from watching fifty games played by the Harlem Globetrotters.”
“They’re mostly clowns,” Coach Andy said.
“Clowns who seldom lose a game. Their secret is ball control. They always know where the ball is and when it’s passed, they know where it’s going. We’re nowhere near their expertise, but the girls are doing a great job.”
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