We found a nice house in Fairfax. It was a custom build on a fill in site in a neighborhood that had seen better days not all that long ago. The better days hadn't lasted long enough for most of the people living there. I knew neighborhoods like that and had even moved a couple from a house a couple blocks over. That was an easy job. A Central American couple. I explained that if they didn't leave in 24 hours an anonymous tip would lead the police to some illegal narcotics that would be traced back to them. They understood. They left. I got paid.
Fire was very good at organizing and money. We bought the house with relatively little difficulty. I set up a S Corporation to buy the house. I probably could have created a non-profit and had that buy it but I wanted to keep the non-profit from being tainted. I wanted that as separate stand alone entity that we could move that around with us. After all, I planned on burning the place down eventually.
My job was to find us some followers. BIC wanted us to pass out flyers at job fairs. Rather he wanted Windsong and Fire to pass them out. "Show some cleavage" was how he put it. We ended up arguing about it and I lost. I wanted to vet everyone of them if I was going to responsible for them so we ended up compromising an agreeing to meet anyone interested in a public area before bringing them into the house. As far as I was concerned it was my region. I was going to run it.
So I decided to start hitting the areas where the Car People were known to congregate. The problem was I didn't know how to do it. Fire suggested talking to them. "Just go up and say hello. Bring some canned food to distribute. Or pass out flyers and see who wants to talk to you about them. Use the same ones BIC is writing for the job fairs." She was being sensible and level headed. It still pissed me off but I couldn't tell her why. The reason being I thought most people were assholes and I didn't want to talk to them, I just wanted them to do as I told them didn't have that revolutionary ring to it. I wished we could just hire them but make them pay for the privilege. Kind of like have our own job fair.
I was also pissed because she told me we were not going to be sharing the same bedroom in the new house. I asked her why and got "Well. We're not having sex, we are not a couple. Plus I might be able to recruit and train more males if they knew I was unattached." I shrugged an agreed. The problem was our little encounter in the car had awakened something inside of me that I had been careful to keep sealed off and shut down. Images of Slut, and she was that, bound and gagged kept popping up disturbing my focus. I wasn't sure if she was the one or just filling a space in my head until I figured out who the one was. I knew there was a womens shelter not far away. Those were good hunting grounds I figured. Disposable women who were desperate. What could go wrong?