James Anderson watched as his wife escorted the IRS agent out to the door with perfect courtesy. It was a strategically sound decision on her part, as James was nearly out of his trademark self-restraint. 

She returned a moment later and fixed them both a coffee. If he noticed she made it Irish, James chose to not to comment. If ever there was a time for whisky, this would be it. Evelyn sat patiently, giving him a moment to collect himself.

"That went about as expected," he told her, finally.

"I imagined as much, given what Id heard and the blood stained daggers you were shooting at that womans back when I saw her out."  She paused to take a long sip of her coffee.  "So, how bad is it?"

"Bad enough," James replied wearily.  "Although they havent confirmed plans to press charges against me. The paper trail suggests that I had no knowledge of the tax fraud, and since I certainly never saw a penny of it, theyre currently inclined to let it drop. Although she made it clear that it was still a possibility pending further evaluation."

She took his hand, squeezing firmly. "Thats something. I dont think Id enjoy being referred to as that woman whose husband was dragged away in irons to my friends at the club."  Despite her flip words, Evelyn was nearly faint with relief that her husband likely wouldnt be facing time in prison. Thus far, it was the only good news theyd had since finding out that their trusted senior accountant was not quite so trustworthy.

"I didnt watch him as I should have," James commented bleakly. He didnt mention a name, but it was hardly necessary. It was unlikely he was talking about the IRS agent; shed been about average for the breed.

"And I wouldnt have expected you to, he was family," Evelyn agreed.

"Distant family. A cousin. I should have known better." 

"Thinking about past oats bakes no bread today. So, what kind of damage are we looking at?"  Evelyn was nothing if not pragmatic.

"Enough to thoroughly ruin us.  Paying this off will cost us everything, and I dont mean just the family business.    We will have to sell all of our properties, including this house, liquidate the stocks for whatever we can dredge out of them, and well still owe. Tomas has been committing tax fraud practically since the beginning, and he was close to retirement.   Paying all that off, plus the late fines they still havent finished calculating, and were looking to spend our golden years in a stunning two bedroom apartment in historic Lima Heights Adjacent." 

Evelyn rocked their hands together, squeezing reassuringly. "Well get through this.  Worst case scenario, we spend time with Cooper in LA while we work on paying off the remaining debt." 

"Cooper?" James barked a bitter laugh.  "If that isnt an impossible proposal.  Besides the fact that staying with that actor son of ours is completely unacceptable, hes in no position to support the two of us. Weve been paying his rent for the last year and half as it is.  He hasnt had a decently paying job since those ridiculous commercials.  We could easily all find ourselves on the street together." 

"His career will take off any time," Evelyn argued, as she always did when they discussed her first-born pride and joy.  "Hes such a talented, smart boy, he just needs a little more time to find his feet and settle down with a nice girl."  James snorted at that. Though he had to admit, if Cooper was good for anything it would be making lovely grandchildren. The infant Coopers girlfriend was currently carrying would undoubtedly be perfect.  James only wished hed been farsighted enough to head this disaster off and still have his fathers business for the child to inherit.

Cooper had told his father the glad news in utmost secrecy a few weeks prior. He intended to ask his girlfriend to marry him and didnt want to ruin the surprise.  Given that Evelyn just could not keep herself off the Facebook, James was willing to keep the secret for the time being.

The couple continued to talk quietly for a while longer; trying to formulate a plan now that life as they knew it was essentially ending.  James was too old to hold a job with any kind of physicality required, and it was unlikely hed be hired anywhere for a business management job when hed been indicted for tax fraud. The money Evelyn had inherited had almost completely gone into buffering the business during hard times. Theyd come out ahead and were finally back, and doing better then ever before. Scant comfort right now.

A door opening signaled the arrival of their youngest son home from school.  James watched Blaine approach as he tried to decide how much he should tell his son.  Things had been...odd between them since Blaines fifteenth birthday last month. Hed been meaning to discuss it, but Blaine had been spending a lot of time with his school friend, Nate, and that was about the time James received his first unwelcome visit from the IRS.

James could see the confusion in Blaines eyes at finding his parents sitting together at the dining room table.  But before James could say anything, Blaine cleared his throat anxiously.  Now that he really looked, James could see how nervous his son appeared.

Blaine straightened his spine. "Mom, Dad, theres something I need to tell you..."
****************************


"No." 

"Evelyn..."

"I believe you heard me when I told you no," she warned her husband.  They were currently in their bedroom, looking over the final information the IRS agent had dropped off earlier. Included with the financial analysis was a formal letter that the IRS was considering bringing charges against James after all. The packet also included an alternate payment option.

Evelyn sat on their bed, watching her husband change into sleep pants.  There was not a single thing he could possibly say that would persuade her to take the IRS up on their ludicrous offer.  It was out of the question.  There was no way she was allowing them to take her son away from her; she didnt care how her husband felt about Blaines...discovery about himself. He was still her child and she loved him.

"Evie, please just listen."  James sat on the bed next to his wife. He attempted to reach for her hand but she jerked it away.

"Evelyn, this will fix everything. Well keep the business, the house, our retirement fund.  Were too old to flip burgers at McDonalds for nine hours a day."

"At the cost of our son?! Absolutely not. Well figure something out but there is no way I will allow Blaine to be taken away." 

James tugged her against him.  "If we dont do this, Ill go to jail and youll be alone and penniless.  Realistically, Blaine will have a challenging life no matter what. You know theres no way hell hide the fact that hes gay, and trouble will find him sooner or later."  He felt her slowly crumpling against him.

Evelyn sighed.  When shed dreamed of her Blaines future, shed always thought about what a wonderful father hed be.  If she had to be honest, the news that her son was never going to give her grandchildren was devastating.  But he was still her baby boy.  What was she supposed to do?  Shed lose someone no matter what.  Either her husband would be sent to jail, or Blaine would be taken away forever.

"Listen, Evie. Blaine is such a gentle boy. Hes polite and has excellent manners.  Someone will find him and take him into their home, and hell have a perfectly comfortable life.  And everything will go back to the way it was. The IRS offered a complete blank slate.  All charges against me will be dropped, the lost money zeroed out. We wouldnt owe a penny. All we need to do is sign the form.  Both of us."

"Dont ask again," Evelyn glared at her husband.  "There is nothing you can say that will make me sign that thing. Id rather end up a pauper on the street fighting pigeons for bread crumbs."

James nodded in acceptance.  They went through the papers for a while longer, looking for another option that he knew wasnt there.  After some time had passed, he attempted to talk to his wife again.  "Cooper called last night," James commented casually.  "Apparently, his last job ended a few weeks ago and he needs us to help him out before he gets evicted."

Of course he did. Evelyn tensed, waiting for the other shoe to drop. James wasnt discussing this with her out of the blue.

"He also had some interesting news to share. Do you remember that young lady, Jessica, whose been living with him? Apparently, congratulations are in order.  Shes five months pregnant." 

*****************************

IRS officer Paula Reubens watched from the air-conditioned front seat of her government issue Prius.   She was parked outside a local high school, waiting.  A short while later she saw two acquisition agents efficiently dragging a young man with his arms cuffed behind him out of the back door of the school and into a waiting van.  It was about time. Officer Reubens walked over to the van and climbed inside. The boy knelt in the center of the van where he was doubled over, strapped tight to a long metallic bar so that his arms were fully extended. The agents cut his shirt away, baring the tan skin of his back.

"Easy, Blaine," Officer Reubens ordered. Blaine only fought harder.  Oh, there was some life in this one. That was good for her.

"Please," Blaine begged.  "Whoever you are, let me go. I wont say anything, I promise. My parents are really affluential, you dont want to do this." 

"I assure you, I do. I had to jump through a number of bureaucreatic hoops, not to mention half a dozen coma-inducing dates to get you here."  She ran her hand down the struggling boys back.

"Did your parents tell you that they were in serious trouble, Blaine? They made a poor choice in accountants and were about to lose everything.  But thats all been dealt with and renumerations paid in full. Your family is completely off the hook.  Actually, my offer was particularly generous and a relief to all involved parties.  It serves as an effective warning without ruining the reputation of such a, what did you call them? Ah, an influential family." 

"What do you want?" Blaine asked desperately.

The officer grinned, though Blaine couldnt see it from his position.  "Silly boy, I would have thought that was obvious. I want you." 

"Its ready," one of the handlers commented.  "You may want to stand away, Officer."  The other handler pushed a cloth gag into the boys mouth while his partner pulled a heated rod out of its container.  The metallic numbers at the base of the rod glowed red with heat.  The man moved the rod to the boys back, taking proper aim.  A second later he pressed in, ignoring the kids muffled screams and frantic pulling as the numbers were permanently burned into his skin. He pulled the rod away, dumping a cup of water over the marks, quickly cooling them to ensure a good scar.

"Okay, his designation numbers are in. Well take him to the Omaha training center from here. Itll be a while until he goes up for sale.  Zero generations always take some time to really break in.  Most people dont even bother with them anymore.  Paula knew that.  Generally, buyers preferred at least a sixth or seventh Gen, and they all cost about the same.  But her personal clientele preferred their slaves slightly fresher.

The handler glanced down at the young man sobbing in the restraints before looking across at his partner, who rolled his eyes and made to pinch his nose. They hated doing field branding; the smell of burning flesh filled the whole van and was a bitch to air out.

Officer Reubens didnt seem to have much of a problem with it; of course she didnt have a long-assed drive ahead of her in the smelly space.  "Thank you for the information, but I want this one. How do I know when hell go up for sale?"

"You have his identification number. Just call the center, leave a small notification fee, and theyll give you a courtesy call 24 hours before he becomes officially available."

"Ill look forward to getting the call."  Officer Reubens accepted the business card she was offered and shook hands warmly with the acquisition handler. "I left a gift certificate to that steak house on I-55 on the dash for you both in case you need a break during the drive back."  Both men perked up at that, clearly placated.

Paula Reubens stepped out the doo and watched as the van pulled away, the newest addition to the slave industry neatly tucked inside.  She knew the importance of leaving a lasting impression, and wanted to make sure those two remembered her fondly in case she needed their services again.  Despite the fact that later generations of slaves were most popular, there was a demand for zeros if you knew where to look. And this one was so cute.  Shed have to think long and hard about whether shed keep him for herself or put him up for private auction.

Reubens returned to her car, turning the engine over to begin the journey back to the home office. When shed first met up with the Andersons to discuss the situation their accountant had gotten them into, shed never expected to see a gorgeous boy dancing in the second story window. Shed sat in her car for a while, just watching.  And she knew right then that he was perfect.  Persuading her office to offer the trade in exchange for completely clearing the Andersons had been a long, uphill struggle.  Acquiring zero gens really was a rare occurrence these days, it wasnt politically popular at all.  But she had a lot of seniority at the office and knew the right people to make it happen. And Paula was subtle, quietly building quite a healthy nest egg for her retirement.  Her contacts could have that boy out of the rookery in months if she wanted; it all depended on her buyers.

The IRS officer was so lost in her thoughts that she didnt see the deer jump in front of the car as she coursed along the highway.

She slammed on the breaks, trying to get the Prius under control as it spun out without success.  The compact vehicle snaked along the road, finally sliding front-first down the ravine at the edge of the road. Officer Reubens last thought was the realization that she hadnt bothered to buckle her seat belt. The car slammed to a halt when it hit an oak at the bottom of the hill, Paulas head slamming forcefully into steering column.

******************************

It took two days for someone to notice the crash and call it in. A tow truck was called, and slowly pulled the wreckage back up to the highway right as the coroners van pulled up.  "I guess what they say about death and taxes really is right," the coroner joked to no one in particular as his assistants loaded the body into his van.

A police officer emptied the car, noticing the blood-spattered brief case that had been tossed about in the front seat.  With a sigh, he pulled the messy thing out to check its contents. Seeing a number of photocopied tax documents, he collected the sheets to drop off at the local IRS office.  A large manila folder was mixed in with the pages, neatly labeled in black ink: A0919 Blaine