The Cold Ocean water lapped at the side of the rented fishing boat. A narrow wooden long boat with a 50 hp. out board motor, 24 feet long and a mere 6 feet wide it looked like a old canoe on steroids. The white paint was peeling fast, and the smell of dead fish was strong, Spanky hunkered down in the back, attempting to keep his body out of the wind. Shelia sat in the bow hunched over her cell phone/PDA, typing rythmatically on the tiny keyboard. He gritted his teeth, not from the cold, but to hold in the animosity that he held for the woman in the bow. If there came a time to ditch her and move on his own, he would do it in a heart beat. Right now they had a strained agreement, he was only to talk to her about the mission, and not ask questions. She in turn would leave him alone and never mention the incident at the hotel. The Morning seemed to get colder as the dawn approached, the wind changed directions and the boat strained againest its ropes, wanting to break free from the dock, almost as much as Spanky wanted free from her.
He looked again at the message Barett had sent him. It was basic but told him to have a boat ready on the English side of the channel. Rick was to contact him before the drop but to be ready, the location seemed a little too south of any good drop zones, and he had this sneaking suspicion that they were being cut out of the loop on purpose. At this point he could understand, it seemed like they had been dogged and shadowed this whole trip, and they didn't even have the package with them. It must have been quite the ride for Rick and Barett, being strangers to this land and all.
The Hotel incident was a lack of judgement call on his part mostly. They had gotten a small room and ordered in some food and wine saturday night, spanky had gotten some good German beer as well. After a whole bottle of wine and most of the 12 pack of beer he thought she was making some eyes at him, guess he had his beer googles on at that point. When she went to the bathroom claiming to " clean up for bed " he thought that was a code for a role in the hay. Stripping down to the buff he cleared the top of the bed off and lay there in all his glory when she came out. There was a moment of shock and curiosity, but then she just started laughing, but it was more than the laughing that really nutted him up. She kept spurting out between bouts of snorting laughs that he " thought they were going to have sex ". It was more than his ego could handle, she acted like he was beneath her, why would a goddess like her dirty the sheets with a commoner like him, her eyes seemed to say. Grabbing his cloths and half undressed, he stumbled out into the hall and down the stairs to the street. Stopping at the first bar he came to and drinking till his money was gone seemed like the right thing to do. The lock up was not in his plans, the small french police station smelled of stale coffee and puke. The drunk tank was full of fishermen sleeping off the spoils of a good catch. The french police were not intending to press charges and were just letting him sleep it off . His military ID at lest held some respect with these guys.
Spanky thinks that she was working off a little hangover herself when she started arguing with the duty officer. Spanky was out of the holding cell at this point, chatting with the officers in the breakroom about military stuff, and drinking coffee when she came in. He managed to calm her down just as they were about to cuff her and throw her in the cell. Thanking the officers and hauling her out the front door, he was surprised at her emotion, it was unlike anything he had seen from her before. After that she seldomed even looked directly at him, and spoke in unflatering language about him and the brothers when she did. I guess he couldn't blame her, but he didn't haft to like her. That was three hours ago, deciding to cross the channel then, they picked up the small boat at the dock and waited. Spanky suspected that the call from Rick would never come, and could see that would only add more tension to the fragile truce they had. What would he do then, only time would tell, but ditching her was starting to look better and better.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Leaving Paris ( Ricks harem grows )
Barett picks up and speaks back in Korean.
"It is good to hear your voice Younger brother. I too have drunken from the bitter water and chewed the salted meat, but not eat the dessert. However the princess is safe with me, and desires to meet her husband to be. (Time to deliver the package)
“Remember that the snake in the grass is sometimes the pregnant water-buffalo at your door. (He suspects everyone, even Maria) Sometimes it's best to eat an egg Mc Muffin at L'efes, but keep the big bird with small wings to yourself. I prefer the Calais in the North, A3 to A1 sauce at least a kungfu movie away. (He has a plane in Calais, meet at L'efes at breakfast 3-4 hrs away from Paris) You will see me soon, dressed as the bridegroom on his horse."
The line goes dead and Rick can tell Barett is not having the time of his life either, but these things always sound better when retold a few months later at least that is his belief. The pain-meds for PMS Maria gave him were starting to work (they were the only thing she had), and he was starting to breathe without as much pain now. Interestingly though, he was feeling an urge for chocolate and cupcakes.
Rick walked back into the living room and saw a large suitcase and several other bags by the front door. By the looks of them, both Maria and Monica had raided Carla’s closet as it was apparent that the only thing they could find were too small. Maria was in the middle of changing into gray sweat-pants that came up to her knees and a matching pullover jersey which must have been extra baggy on little Carla. Monica was wearing black spandex pants, jogging shoes and a gray and red jersey with a colorful college logo on the front.
Carla came into the room, dressed in a fancy black leather outfit that looked like it was a Paris’s socialites attempt to model motorcycle crash armor. It was obviously more runway fashion than anything that could be considered practical on the racetrack.
Carla handed Rick an armful of bags filled with food, then grabbed her suitcase and led the small group down to her car to stuff everything in. They left in a hurry but Maria convinced Rick and Carla that they need to swing by her hotel to pick up her other stuff and check out how things are shaking down at the club from a distance. Conveniently the hotel was the same place Rick had used to hide his gun and the rest of his equipment. The club area was such a mess with activity that it was easy for Maria to get in and out of the hotel. Rick was amazed that at her ability to slip out unnoticed with a load of shopping bags, his assault rifle tucked safely and hidden away from prying eyes.
It was now 1:50 in the morning and before long the four of them were out of Paris and heading North, Rick in the front passenger’s seat, Carla driving fast as usual behind the wheel, with Monica behind Rick, sleeping peacefully using the bags piled on her lap as a pillow. Maria was mostly quiet, smiling at Rick when he turned to see how she was doing. After thirty minutes or so, she too fell asleep.
The motor hummed its forgotten song and lolled Rick into some much needed sleep. Less than two hours later, with the back seat occupants snoring lightly Carla touched Rick’s cheek gently, waking him with a start.
"Senior Rick, perhaps we should talk about what we are going to do? Yes?" She said in a soft voice not wanting to wake the others.
"It is good to hear your voice Younger brother. I too have drunken from the bitter water and chewed the salted meat, but not eat the dessert. However the princess is safe with me, and desires to meet her husband to be. (Time to deliver the package)
“Remember that the snake in the grass is sometimes the pregnant water-buffalo at your door. (He suspects everyone, even Maria) Sometimes it's best to eat an egg Mc Muffin at L'efes, but keep the big bird with small wings to yourself. I prefer the Calais in the North, A3 to A1 sauce at least a kungfu movie away. (He has a plane in Calais, meet at L'efes at breakfast 3-4 hrs away from Paris) You will see me soon, dressed as the bridegroom on his horse."
The line goes dead and Rick can tell Barett is not having the time of his life either, but these things always sound better when retold a few months later at least that is his belief. The pain-meds for PMS Maria gave him were starting to work (they were the only thing she had), and he was starting to breathe without as much pain now. Interestingly though, he was feeling an urge for chocolate and cupcakes.
Rick walked back into the living room and saw a large suitcase and several other bags by the front door. By the looks of them, both Maria and Monica had raided Carla’s closet as it was apparent that the only thing they could find were too small. Maria was in the middle of changing into gray sweat-pants that came up to her knees and a matching pullover jersey which must have been extra baggy on little Carla. Monica was wearing black spandex pants, jogging shoes and a gray and red jersey with a colorful college logo on the front.
Carla came into the room, dressed in a fancy black leather outfit that looked like it was a Paris’s socialites attempt to model motorcycle crash armor. It was obviously more runway fashion than anything that could be considered practical on the racetrack.
Carla handed Rick an armful of bags filled with food, then grabbed her suitcase and led the small group down to her car to stuff everything in. They left in a hurry but Maria convinced Rick and Carla that they need to swing by her hotel to pick up her other stuff and check out how things are shaking down at the club from a distance. Conveniently the hotel was the same place Rick had used to hide his gun and the rest of his equipment. The club area was such a mess with activity that it was easy for Maria to get in and out of the hotel. Rick was amazed that at her ability to slip out unnoticed with a load of shopping bags, his assault rifle tucked safely and hidden away from prying eyes.
It was now 1:50 in the morning and before long the four of them were out of Paris and heading North, Rick in the front passenger’s seat, Carla driving fast as usual behind the wheel, with Monica behind Rick, sleeping peacefully using the bags piled on her lap as a pillow. Maria was mostly quiet, smiling at Rick when he turned to see how she was doing. After thirty minutes or so, she too fell asleep.
The motor hummed its forgotten song and lolled Rick into some much needed sleep. Less than two hours later, with the back seat occupants snoring lightly Carla touched Rick’s cheek gently, waking him with a start.
"Senior Rick, perhaps we should talk about what we are going to do? Yes?" She said in a soft voice not wanting to wake the others.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Carla
The taste of her lip gloss mixed perfectly with the tartness of the lemon and sweet Absinthe all of which was enhanced by the earsplitting techno-music that totally filled every inch of the room. Everything together was giving her that sensual buzz she loved. Carla licked her lips and she waited to see how Rick would like this drink that was so much like really load music. Like music, what is the point of drinking unless it is shared and savored by someone else? Carla looked up at Rick and realized she long to plant another deep, lingering kiss on him. That thought, mixed with the Absinthe flavor, tingled inside all the way down to her toes.
"YOUR TURN RICK” she yelled out in her perfect Spanish attempting to be heard over the dim of the room. “YOU’RE GOING TO LOVE IT!"
But he wasn’t paying attention to her or, to her slight annoyance, the drink. He was looking away, straining to see over the heads of the dancers and patrons of the club, fixated on something or someone. She was hoping it wasn’t his “friend”. She hadn’t seen her yet and that was just fine in Carla’s book.
Carla jumped up twice to see if she could see what had Rick’s attention. But it was no use, she was just too short. That was one thing that sucked about being her height; you couldn’t see anything in a crowd. Just when she was about to do something dramatic to try to get Rick attention back on her, he called back, asking her a bizarre question.
“YOU DON’T HAVE AN OVERLY PROTECTIVE FATHER OR SOMETHING LIKE THAT, DO YOU CARLA?” That is what she thought he said but it was hard for her to make it out.
“WHAT? NO. WHY?” Shouted was a difficult way of communicating.
Rick didn’t answer, possible because it was just too hard to hear anything with the noise of the music. He stopped looking off at whatever was out there and looked back down to her. He was calm but obviously something was bothering him. It looked as if his mind was racing and he wasn’t having any fun. Well, men were sometimes like that she thought to herself, all work and no play. But instead of taking the glass in his hands of blue green liquid and drinking it down as she expected him to do, and much more to her annoyance, he absentmindedly placed the drink down on the counter. Carla was about ready to grab the drink and climb up on his shoulders and pour it down his mouth. She didn’t like to be ignored even if she couldn’t be heard. But what was bothering her more was she found she was falling for Rick but he wasn’t showing the same level of interest back. She was gamboling she knew because men as good looking as Rick always girls around them and the competition could be daunting.
Rick leaned in close and whispered in her ear. “Security just tripled.”
“WHAT?! WHY?” It scared her a bit as she remembered the violence at the cemetery. She tried to move in close to him like a child would into the arms of a protecting father.
“I DON’T KNOW YET.” He yelled back as he straightened up and turned back to the crowed room, his move causing her intended snuggle to miss the spot. “THEY SEEM TO BE FOCUSED ON . . . Oh, I SEE. GROUP OF MEN AND TWO LADIES REALLY PUTTING ON THE MOVES and . . . Oh!”
But what the “oh” was, Carla couldn’t hear nor did it look like Rick was going to say. She shoved him around and the look up into his eyes. The look was priceless. He looked defeated almost, almost like a child. It was adorable and made her want to squeeze him like a doll.
“WHAT IS ‘OH’? WHAT DID YOU SEE?”
But his mind was elsewhere. So Carla being Carla reacted as any short and spunky proactive girl would. She jumped up onto bar and stretched her neck to see what was so interesting. She used Rick’s shoulder as support and just for added extra measures she pressed her chest up against Rick as a feminine reminder that she was a woman and shouldn’t be ignored.
Looking out, she couldn’t tell if there anything different or not. It looked like it did on any other night she had been here.
“YOU SAID THERE IS TIGHTER SECUIRTY? HOW CAN YOU TELL?” She looked down at him. He didn’t seem to be minding the position she was in.
“LOOK FOR THE PEOPLE NOT DANCING; THOSE WHO DON’T HAVE RHYTHM, BY THE FIRE EXIT.”
Carla looked again and sure enough she began to spot figures that moved as if they didn’t have a musical bone in their bodies. She was impressed. Who had Rick recognize the difference in movement? But now that he had said what the tell-tale sign was, it was becoming obvious and easy to pick out men who weren’t enjoying the night revelry. They were converging on the area Rick said. But before she could figure out what was happening, Rick reached up and pulled her down from the stool as the music from the band came to an end as the last note reverberated out in a dying echo. In the loll that followed there were able to have a normal, if not hurried conversation.
“That is enough looking for now.” The non-shouting was much better. “We don’t want to draw any attention to ourselves if we can help it.”
Carla started firing of questions.
“What is going on? Who are they after? Did you see that girl in the red dress? I wish I had a figure like that! And how about her hair, it was magnificent. But then I saw the man behind her with the blue shirt and he wasn’t acting right. Do you think he was one of them? I have never really noticed the security passed the front door before. Where did they all come from? Did you see bald headed man? He looked big. You’re not thinking about starting a fight are you? I don’t think it is any of our concern if you ask me. You don’t think they aren’t after you, do you? There is no way this would have anything that happened at the cemetery?”
“I don’t think so,” Was all he could do to answer her machine gun rate of questioning. He pointed to the back bar with its stainless steel bars. “Is there a way to get out from the back there?”
“Sure, if we can get Petra to open the door, there are some service elevators in the back and a stairwell that exits out onto the back ally. But it is against the club’s policy to let anyone back there. If you don’t think there is trouble with us, why would we worry about it? Clearly they are going after someone else. Let’s just enjoy the evening.” She said as she tugged on his arm and attempted to pull him out onto the dance floor.
But Rick didn’t move and Carla knew then whatever was going on at the far end of the club involved his girl. She knew tonight was over for her and he was going to leave her.
“It’s your friend isn’t it?”
“Yes, yes it is.”
Well, that was it. It was over. He had clearly rejected her drink and now he was rejecting her. It was time to leave. But she didn’t want to and it bothered her. Why couldn’t she walk away? She usually got what she wanted but Rick had slipped through her fingers. With other men she hadn’t cared. But with Rick it was different and she couldn’t figure out why. Inside she was having strange feelings. She tried to rationalize that he wasn’t what she wanted and she was just being a silly love-sick little girl. Besides, how long had it been since she saw him at the station? It was just a few hours ago, no more. Then why was she having these feeling? It was frustrating. “Hades, I needed a smoke!” she thought.
The music started up again with the hi-hat cymbal beginning to shimmer and snap a new beat. Carla knew the beat. She knew it because it was her song; she had written it. And that was the irony of it too. She had written it to be about triumph and victory. She consigned herself to losing Rick and turning to leave but Rick grabbed her hand and spun her around with the beat of the music. She found herself looking up, locked in his blue eyes.
“Carla.”
She hadn’t expected the intensity of his eyes as he looked back at her.
“What Rick? Your friend is other there. Go to her.” She pointed with her eyes. The music was picking up and it would shortly be too loud to talk without yelling.
“Carla, you don’t understand. Understand that I like you. You are a beautiful lady and have incredible spunk. But above you and me, I need your help. You are the only person I know in Paris that I trust.”
And with those words she melted inside. The music sped up and became more appropriate for her feelings and her hopeful heart beat. There was still hope and she felt a blush coming from his compliment so she turned to look at the band to hide her face. The Cock playing the drums looked like he was about to have a nervous conniption fit. He was so goofy looking that it brought a bright smile to her face. This whole situation was just like the drummer; completely stupid and out of control like her emotions. The music intensified as the synthesized boom of the techno-beat started up. The crowd knew the song and loved it and the excited roar of the patrons filled the dance hall. They would have to shout again to talk to each other.
“ALRIGHT, WHAT CAN I DO FOR YOU?”
“GET PETRA TO OPEN THE BACK AND THEN GET READY TO DRIVE!” He shouted back with a smile and then kissed her, and then he disappeared into the crowded dance floor.
She was too short to try to see what he was doing so she hurried back through the dancing mass to the bar and waved to get Petra’s attention.
“WHAT HAPPENED TO MISTER GOOD-LOOKING? YOU SEND HIM ON HIS WAY?”
“NO, BUT I NEED A FAVORE. THERE IS GOING TO BE . . .”
But before Carla could yell out that there was going to be trouble, it started with a crash that was loud enough to be heard over the music. The three women vocalist on the stand all stopped singing followed haltingly by one, then two, and then all of the band members. With the music stopped, the crowd in shocked silences turned as if a single body. The neon lights and dance strobes still flashed out their psychedelic patterns among the motionless crowd of on lookers. The eerie seconds of silence was suddenly replaced by high pitched screams of panic as hands flew to red painted mouths. Carla saw what was causing the panic. Of course, she couldn’t have missed it. A bottle of what looked like vodka with a burning rag stuck in it sailed up above the heads of the crowded room and smashed into the golden chandelier and exploded into a sphere showering flames.
What followed was complete pandemonium. The fire alarm blared out its piercing klaxon warning while the water sprinklers began to disgorge water over everyone. Hours and hours spent fussing over hair and makeup was ruined in seconds. People screamed and surged and raced in a mad terror to get away from the spraying water and falling flames.
Petra had somehow moved in a flash out from behind the bar and was next to Carla. With no clear exit sign in the back, all of the patrons of the club were holding their hands over head for protection and pushed their way into the bottled up mass of bodies by the stairs that lead down to the exits.
Carla saw a blur of action and she recognized it as Rick. He had just kicked a large brown colored beaver security guard to the ground and was now spinning and kicking at a huge black rhino she had seen at the front doors when she had entered the club. He did a wicked kick up into the rhino’s chin, knocking the brute back a number of steps, losing him in the mass of people. The Rick grabbed hands with a tall red headed woman in a black dress and turned as if to run towards Carla. But the girl pulled him back and pointed at another lady caught in the foray that was being hauled off by an evil looking man in black suit. Rick gave the red head a shove in Carla’s direction and pulled out a gun from his pants.
Petra swore! “NO! Don’t mess with the Russians!”
But Rick couldn’t hear her. He moved with lightening speed. The man in the black suit never saw what hit him. He just collapsed in a spray of red. Grabbing the second girl that stood in shock, Rick spun and started running to the back. It looked like the fight was over. But that was until the rhino came charging back from the crowd. This time Rick didn’t see him.
Carla screamed out a warning but it was too late.
The rhino smashed into Rick’s back, ripping his hand free from the second girl he was helping and he and the rhino went flying head first into a cement pillar. Rick’s body was literally the shock absorber for the rhino. Carla could see the column shake with the impact. The gun that was in Rick’s hand went soaring into mass of people who were gaping at the fight.
Carla rushed forward with Petra on her heals. The red head had picked up the gun and fired it five times into the massive rhino, knocking it back as it had stood up and turned to smash the unmoving form of Rick again. It fell with a thud and a pool of blood mixed with the water that was already pooling on the floor.
Petra was faster than her. She came sliding up next to what appeared as the lifeless body of Rick. Carla came to a stop next to the red head. There wasn’t even time to think about what to do
“He’s still alive! Carla, get her.” Petra shouted as she pointed to the girl that had been held by the man in the black suit. “You,” she looked at the red head, “help me caring him out! And hurry!”
Carla grabbed the girl with the green eyes by the hand and raced out the back through the backstage exit and down the back stairwell. She was followed closely by Petra and the red head who both struggled to carried Rick. Carla assumed the red head could only be Rick’s ‘Maria’.
Sirens could be heard approaching the club. People were running and shouting all over the place. Fortunately, Carla had a place in the back where she had parked her car. There were fewer people back here. Pulling her keys out, she hit the unlock button on the remote pulled open the back door. Maria and Petra literally throw Rick’s body in like a sack of potatoes and then Maria climb in after him into the back seat.
The girl with the green eyes was climbing into the front seat. It would have been comical to see such group of attractive girls in wet sticking clothes, flat dripping hair, and running makeup if the situation hadn’t been so intense.
“Carla. Be careful but get out of here as fast as you can!” Petra called out as she slapped the top of the BMW and look in through the driver’s side window and Carla started the engine. “Your boyfriend messed with the Russians and you just don’t do that! They can bring a world of hurt and trouble. You need to get that girl out of the country if she is going to live.” She said as she motioned with her head to green eyed girl sitting in the front across from Carla.
Carla gave Petra a “thumbs-up” and the tires of her BMW squealed to life. What a crazy insane night this had turned into.
"YOUR TURN RICK” she yelled out in her perfect Spanish attempting to be heard over the dim of the room. “YOU’RE GOING TO LOVE IT!"
But he wasn’t paying attention to her or, to her slight annoyance, the drink. He was looking away, straining to see over the heads of the dancers and patrons of the club, fixated on something or someone. She was hoping it wasn’t his “friend”. She hadn’t seen her yet and that was just fine in Carla’s book.
Carla jumped up twice to see if she could see what had Rick’s attention. But it was no use, she was just too short. That was one thing that sucked about being her height; you couldn’t see anything in a crowd. Just when she was about to do something dramatic to try to get Rick attention back on her, he called back, asking her a bizarre question.
“YOU DON’T HAVE AN OVERLY PROTECTIVE FATHER OR SOMETHING LIKE THAT, DO YOU CARLA?” That is what she thought he said but it was hard for her to make it out.
“WHAT? NO. WHY?” Shouted was a difficult way of communicating.
Rick didn’t answer, possible because it was just too hard to hear anything with the noise of the music. He stopped looking off at whatever was out there and looked back down to her. He was calm but obviously something was bothering him. It looked as if his mind was racing and he wasn’t having any fun. Well, men were sometimes like that she thought to herself, all work and no play. But instead of taking the glass in his hands of blue green liquid and drinking it down as she expected him to do, and much more to her annoyance, he absentmindedly placed the drink down on the counter. Carla was about ready to grab the drink and climb up on his shoulders and pour it down his mouth. She didn’t like to be ignored even if she couldn’t be heard. But what was bothering her more was she found she was falling for Rick but he wasn’t showing the same level of interest back. She was gamboling she knew because men as good looking as Rick always girls around them and the competition could be daunting.
Rick leaned in close and whispered in her ear. “Security just tripled.”
“WHAT?! WHY?” It scared her a bit as she remembered the violence at the cemetery. She tried to move in close to him like a child would into the arms of a protecting father.
“I DON’T KNOW YET.” He yelled back as he straightened up and turned back to the crowed room, his move causing her intended snuggle to miss the spot. “THEY SEEM TO BE FOCUSED ON . . . Oh, I SEE. GROUP OF MEN AND TWO LADIES REALLY PUTTING ON THE MOVES and . . . Oh!”
But what the “oh” was, Carla couldn’t hear nor did it look like Rick was going to say. She shoved him around and the look up into his eyes. The look was priceless. He looked defeated almost, almost like a child. It was adorable and made her want to squeeze him like a doll.
“WHAT IS ‘OH’? WHAT DID YOU SEE?”
But his mind was elsewhere. So Carla being Carla reacted as any short and spunky proactive girl would. She jumped up onto bar and stretched her neck to see what was so interesting. She used Rick’s shoulder as support and just for added extra measures she pressed her chest up against Rick as a feminine reminder that she was a woman and shouldn’t be ignored.
Looking out, she couldn’t tell if there anything different or not. It looked like it did on any other night she had been here.
“YOU SAID THERE IS TIGHTER SECUIRTY? HOW CAN YOU TELL?” She looked down at him. He didn’t seem to be minding the position she was in.
“LOOK FOR THE PEOPLE NOT DANCING; THOSE WHO DON’T HAVE RHYTHM, BY THE FIRE EXIT.”
Carla looked again and sure enough she began to spot figures that moved as if they didn’t have a musical bone in their bodies. She was impressed. Who had Rick recognize the difference in movement? But now that he had said what the tell-tale sign was, it was becoming obvious and easy to pick out men who weren’t enjoying the night revelry. They were converging on the area Rick said. But before she could figure out what was happening, Rick reached up and pulled her down from the stool as the music from the band came to an end as the last note reverberated out in a dying echo. In the loll that followed there were able to have a normal, if not hurried conversation.
“That is enough looking for now.” The non-shouting was much better. “We don’t want to draw any attention to ourselves if we can help it.”
Carla started firing of questions.
“What is going on? Who are they after? Did you see that girl in the red dress? I wish I had a figure like that! And how about her hair, it was magnificent. But then I saw the man behind her with the blue shirt and he wasn’t acting right. Do you think he was one of them? I have never really noticed the security passed the front door before. Where did they all come from? Did you see bald headed man? He looked big. You’re not thinking about starting a fight are you? I don’t think it is any of our concern if you ask me. You don’t think they aren’t after you, do you? There is no way this would have anything that happened at the cemetery?”
“I don’t think so,” Was all he could do to answer her machine gun rate of questioning. He pointed to the back bar with its stainless steel bars. “Is there a way to get out from the back there?”
“Sure, if we can get Petra to open the door, there are some service elevators in the back and a stairwell that exits out onto the back ally. But it is against the club’s policy to let anyone back there. If you don’t think there is trouble with us, why would we worry about it? Clearly they are going after someone else. Let’s just enjoy the evening.” She said as she tugged on his arm and attempted to pull him out onto the dance floor.
But Rick didn’t move and Carla knew then whatever was going on at the far end of the club involved his girl. She knew tonight was over for her and he was going to leave her.
“It’s your friend isn’t it?”
“Yes, yes it is.”
Well, that was it. It was over. He had clearly rejected her drink and now he was rejecting her. It was time to leave. But she didn’t want to and it bothered her. Why couldn’t she walk away? She usually got what she wanted but Rick had slipped through her fingers. With other men she hadn’t cared. But with Rick it was different and she couldn’t figure out why. Inside she was having strange feelings. She tried to rationalize that he wasn’t what she wanted and she was just being a silly love-sick little girl. Besides, how long had it been since she saw him at the station? It was just a few hours ago, no more. Then why was she having these feeling? It was frustrating. “Hades, I needed a smoke!” she thought.
The music started up again with the hi-hat cymbal beginning to shimmer and snap a new beat. Carla knew the beat. She knew it because it was her song; she had written it. And that was the irony of it too. She had written it to be about triumph and victory. She consigned herself to losing Rick and turning to leave but Rick grabbed her hand and spun her around with the beat of the music. She found herself looking up, locked in his blue eyes.
“Carla.”
She hadn’t expected the intensity of his eyes as he looked back at her.
“What Rick? Your friend is other there. Go to her.” She pointed with her eyes. The music was picking up and it would shortly be too loud to talk without yelling.
“Carla, you don’t understand. Understand that I like you. You are a beautiful lady and have incredible spunk. But above you and me, I need your help. You are the only person I know in Paris that I trust.”
And with those words she melted inside. The music sped up and became more appropriate for her feelings and her hopeful heart beat. There was still hope and she felt a blush coming from his compliment so she turned to look at the band to hide her face. The Cock playing the drums looked like he was about to have a nervous conniption fit. He was so goofy looking that it brought a bright smile to her face. This whole situation was just like the drummer; completely stupid and out of control like her emotions. The music intensified as the synthesized boom of the techno-beat started up. The crowd knew the song and loved it and the excited roar of the patrons filled the dance hall. They would have to shout again to talk to each other.
“ALRIGHT, WHAT CAN I DO FOR YOU?”
“GET PETRA TO OPEN THE BACK AND THEN GET READY TO DRIVE!” He shouted back with a smile and then kissed her, and then he disappeared into the crowded dance floor.
She was too short to try to see what he was doing so she hurried back through the dancing mass to the bar and waved to get Petra’s attention.
“WHAT HAPPENED TO MISTER GOOD-LOOKING? YOU SEND HIM ON HIS WAY?”
“NO, BUT I NEED A FAVORE. THERE IS GOING TO BE . . .”
But before Carla could yell out that there was going to be trouble, it started with a crash that was loud enough to be heard over the music. The three women vocalist on the stand all stopped singing followed haltingly by one, then two, and then all of the band members. With the music stopped, the crowd in shocked silences turned as if a single body. The neon lights and dance strobes still flashed out their psychedelic patterns among the motionless crowd of on lookers. The eerie seconds of silence was suddenly replaced by high pitched screams of panic as hands flew to red painted mouths. Carla saw what was causing the panic. Of course, she couldn’t have missed it. A bottle of what looked like vodka with a burning rag stuck in it sailed up above the heads of the crowded room and smashed into the golden chandelier and exploded into a sphere showering flames.
What followed was complete pandemonium. The fire alarm blared out its piercing klaxon warning while the water sprinklers began to disgorge water over everyone. Hours and hours spent fussing over hair and makeup was ruined in seconds. People screamed and surged and raced in a mad terror to get away from the spraying water and falling flames.
Petra had somehow moved in a flash out from behind the bar and was next to Carla. With no clear exit sign in the back, all of the patrons of the club were holding their hands over head for protection and pushed their way into the bottled up mass of bodies by the stairs that lead down to the exits.
Carla saw a blur of action and she recognized it as Rick. He had just kicked a large brown colored beaver security guard to the ground and was now spinning and kicking at a huge black rhino she had seen at the front doors when she had entered the club. He did a wicked kick up into the rhino’s chin, knocking the brute back a number of steps, losing him in the mass of people. The Rick grabbed hands with a tall red headed woman in a black dress and turned as if to run towards Carla. But the girl pulled him back and pointed at another lady caught in the foray that was being hauled off by an evil looking man in black suit. Rick gave the red head a shove in Carla’s direction and pulled out a gun from his pants.
Petra swore! “NO! Don’t mess with the Russians!”
But Rick couldn’t hear her. He moved with lightening speed. The man in the black suit never saw what hit him. He just collapsed in a spray of red. Grabbing the second girl that stood in shock, Rick spun and started running to the back. It looked like the fight was over. But that was until the rhino came charging back from the crowd. This time Rick didn’t see him.
Carla screamed out a warning but it was too late.
The rhino smashed into Rick’s back, ripping his hand free from the second girl he was helping and he and the rhino went flying head first into a cement pillar. Rick’s body was literally the shock absorber for the rhino. Carla could see the column shake with the impact. The gun that was in Rick’s hand went soaring into mass of people who were gaping at the fight.
Carla rushed forward with Petra on her heals. The red head had picked up the gun and fired it five times into the massive rhino, knocking it back as it had stood up and turned to smash the unmoving form of Rick again. It fell with a thud and a pool of blood mixed with the water that was already pooling on the floor.
Petra was faster than her. She came sliding up next to what appeared as the lifeless body of Rick. Carla came to a stop next to the red head. There wasn’t even time to think about what to do
“He’s still alive! Carla, get her.” Petra shouted as she pointed to the girl that had been held by the man in the black suit. “You,” she looked at the red head, “help me caring him out! And hurry!”
Carla grabbed the girl with the green eyes by the hand and raced out the back through the backstage exit and down the back stairwell. She was followed closely by Petra and the red head who both struggled to carried Rick. Carla assumed the red head could only be Rick’s ‘Maria’.
Sirens could be heard approaching the club. People were running and shouting all over the place. Fortunately, Carla had a place in the back where she had parked her car. There were fewer people back here. Pulling her keys out, she hit the unlock button on the remote pulled open the back door. Maria and Petra literally throw Rick’s body in like a sack of potatoes and then Maria climb in after him into the back seat.
The girl with the green eyes was climbing into the front seat. It would have been comical to see such group of attractive girls in wet sticking clothes, flat dripping hair, and running makeup if the situation hadn’t been so intense.
“Carla. Be careful but get out of here as fast as you can!” Petra called out as she slapped the top of the BMW and look in through the driver’s side window and Carla started the engine. “Your boyfriend messed with the Russians and you just don’t do that! They can bring a world of hurt and trouble. You need to get that girl out of the country if she is going to live.” She said as she motioned with her head to green eyed girl sitting in the front across from Carla.
Carla gave Petra a “thumbs-up” and the tires of her BMW squealed to life. What a crazy insane night this had turned into.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Barett leaving Paris ( who can you trust)
The Crate had no bombs or traps, which he found to be suspicous, but the containers were secured and the contents intact. Putting the canisters into a small hiking backpack, and replacing the crate lid, he climbed back up the cold inside brick wall to the roof access latch. Rolling out of the curbstop onto the roof and scanning the rooflines for security personal and cameras, he found none, so he made his way to the edge. He started jumping from roof top to roof top till he was at a building at the waterfront warehouse districts edge, then climbing down a waterspout on the century old brick buildings exterior. This seemed way to easy to him, but things were going different than Ricks original plan had entailed, so he was playing this by ear. As he reached the ground, he swung the bag over his shoulder and took off the mask and leather gloves, stuffing them around the cannisters. The black walther ppk .380 in the small of his back, felt cold to the touch. He thought about ditching the weapon now, but held on to it, a untracable gun may come in handy. Having pick it up on the black market in Paris, it was a nice little side arm to pack around. He could see why James Bond carried it, small and concealable it was a reliable little weapon. The small Fiat Uno car he had rented was parked just three blocks over, on a street by a dockworkers bar. He could really go for a beer right now, if his french was better he might have gone there first.
Bridget was waiting back at the hotel for his return and being late would only aggrevate the situation with her. She was hot, no doubt about it, but was begining to grate on his nerves. It really was not her fault, it was his, she was not really the kind of girl he normally dated and the difference in culture and upbringing really showed through in the stress of the situation. She was really a proper girl, raised in a subburban neighborhood with brothers and sisters, mom and dad all right there. The youngest of five she still went home for sunday dinner. This was about as opposite of Barett as it came, his gritty past and selfish attitude, clashing with her naivity and belief in human goodness. But dang if she wasn't really good looking, he could tell they were going to breakup once they got back into London, and only regretted losing a girl as attractive as she was. Part of him thought that this was not really a healthy way to handle or precieve the relationship, but it was being drowned out by the practical, stoic side of him, thanks goodness. Jogging down the block and through a back alley, he stuck his head around the corner in the dark alley to check out the car before walking out into the lighted street. The street looked clear, minus the usual traffic, he was going to step out of the alley when movement in the car parked two down from his caught his attention. Holding back just a moment, he scanned and watched. The darkened windows of the older Audi sedan hid most of the insides, but the familiar glow of a cigar bobbed inside the car. Someone smoking in a car in France was nothing to be suspicious of, but the weight on the suspension showed that there was a load in the car. Barett could guess that at least five guys were in the car, two in front, three in the back, and from the way the back end was sagging they were big guys. He waited in the alley for several minutes, watching the other cars and buildings, nothing he could see beyond when he left the car except the Audi. What to do now, he retreated to the far end of the alley by a dumpster and cracke open the small cell phone. Pulling up Ricks number he dialed it in, the small screen showed that it was just pass midnight...he hesitated then cleared the number, erasing the call. What was he going to do ?
Bridget was waiting back at the hotel for his return and being late would only aggrevate the situation with her. She was hot, no doubt about it, but was begining to grate on his nerves. It really was not her fault, it was his, she was not really the kind of girl he normally dated and the difference in culture and upbringing really showed through in the stress of the situation. She was really a proper girl, raised in a subburban neighborhood with brothers and sisters, mom and dad all right there. The youngest of five she still went home for sunday dinner. This was about as opposite of Barett as it came, his gritty past and selfish attitude, clashing with her naivity and belief in human goodness. But dang if she wasn't really good looking, he could tell they were going to breakup once they got back into London, and only regretted losing a girl as attractive as she was. Part of him thought that this was not really a healthy way to handle or precieve the relationship, but it was being drowned out by the practical, stoic side of him, thanks goodness. Jogging down the block and through a back alley, he stuck his head around the corner in the dark alley to check out the car before walking out into the lighted street. The street looked clear, minus the usual traffic, he was going to step out of the alley when movement in the car parked two down from his caught his attention. Holding back just a moment, he scanned and watched. The darkened windows of the older Audi sedan hid most of the insides, but the familiar glow of a cigar bobbed inside the car. Someone smoking in a car in France was nothing to be suspicious of, but the weight on the suspension showed that there was a load in the car. Barett could guess that at least five guys were in the car, two in front, three in the back, and from the way the back end was sagging they were big guys. He waited in the alley for several minutes, watching the other cars and buildings, nothing he could see beyond when he left the car except the Audi. What to do now, he retreated to the far end of the alley by a dumpster and cracke open the small cell phone. Pulling up Ricks number he dialed it in, the small screen showed that it was just pass midnight...he hesitated then cleared the number, erasing the call. What was he going to do ?
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Spanky and Shelia ( Boy meets girl, Girl hates boy )
Spanky thought that things were going very well the first day, he was in the Mediterranean warm sun with this attractive women. She seemed very friendly when the others were around, a little cold and detached when they were alone, but he thought that his good looks and charm would work on her. The first night she insisted that there was no " Hanky Panky" and she even slept on the couch in the room. He found her behavior odd, but then again they were on a mission. Spanky knew that it was his roll to bring the tall coontail brother down here for this test. The orders had come down from near the top, so secret that some of the details were so hidden from him, that he didn't even know who really issued the order. He didn't have time for searching that out before he left, and the next thing he knows is that his contact is an attractive girl. After explaining the situation to her, she gets clearance to join the exercise and observe the operatives. He thinks that maybe she is interested in him until they are alone, on the second day. She bluntly explains that he is not her type and to stop hitting on her, she finds it " intolerable and juvenile". That's "craptacular" thinks Spanky,' great everyone is getting some but me, I could be getting drunk and stupid this weekend' back home. But here he was, trekking across the continent, pretending to be a couple with a women that hated him. I wonder if this is why people get divorced, he mentions to her. Explaining the whole irony of the situation, trying to make it sound funny and warped. It didn't work, she just shook her head and gave him this bored look. He is looking forward to meeting up with Barett again, at least then they could go out drinking and maybe shoot something. Right now this girl was all work, and the mission did not really demand that, well at least her level of detail. He had ascertained a few things about her in the last 48 hours, she wanted back into the field badly and was working every angle on this job to make herself look good, to whoever she was really reporting to. She also had some of the most advanced communications equipment that he had seen, small and powerful, they were also very undetectable to the casual observer. At some point Spanky believed that she video recorded everything that was going on, like it was some documentary film she was making. The only upside was that she was "smoking hot", and the close quarters made for at least a good side show for him. The one point he didn't like was the constant questions about the 'Brothers', they weren't your basic what are they like type. She had a lot more detail, more direct. Things like " were did they get their training at ? Are there more of their type out there ? How many languages do they speak ? Can you tell if they have a moral code and can be trusted with state secrets ?". These were disturbing questions to a man like Spanky, these were the questions of people looking to put together a shadow army. And the part that disturbed him the most is that they didn't seem interested in him, of all the insults slung by this girl, that is the one that hurt the most, the one she never said " your not good enough for us". Whoever the US ended up being, he knew that this whole trip was just a cover, a talent show for some very powerful people to watch.
The only joy that he took out of all this was that they seemed to know little of his double life, if they did they never would have let him get this close to their show, and now he knew for sure that the general and Shelia ( if that was her name ) were part of the shadow organization he heard about, this would come in useful to him in the near future.
The only joy that he took out of all this was that they seemed to know little of his double life, if they did they never would have let him get this close to their show, and now he knew for sure that the general and Shelia ( if that was her name ) were part of the shadow organization he heard about, this would come in useful to him in the near future.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Barett in France ( Duex oeufs sur la plat )
" Where was Rick, where was Spanky ? "
Thought Barett as he sat in the shadows of the dark warehouse, staring at the woodcrate. Two days ago he was sitting on the warm beach with Briget. Her warm and firm body pressed againest his, stiring feelings he had long surpressed. She was talking of other vacations and other things they could do. Now pressed againest this cold brick wall, listening to the rats scurry to and fro, waiting for a text from Rick, he pondered what was more fun, her or the thrill of adventure. He was going to give him another half hour then break into the crate and take the package, hoping that he would find any traps Rick may have set. Afterwards he was going to take a small plane he had rented and fly to London, having Bridget parachute out over the coast with the package, while he took the plane in.
Bridget wasn't having as much fun as he was, she didn't like the interrorgation back in Sete. "One of the worst things I have had to do, ever!" She had said to him repeatedly. He found it to be juvenile, the interrigation that is, the they were no good at it, besides they had nothing, well besides the gun he managed to ditch before they left the island. She found out that he had an mean streak, well a dark sense of humor at least. When he lead the guys following them into some gay bars and paided the dancers for some favors on the officers. Or pulled the brake lines on car, hey anyone can end up into a canal. She just wanted some quiet and romance, he just wanted some dirty fun and dirty love, anything for the adrenaline rush. Barett realized now that some activities were better left out of the dating arena, this three day date was to much for the relationship. He could see she wasn't liking the deadly side of being a adrenaline junky, it was all fine in controled situations like skydiving or motorcycle racing. But the gun in your face, jumping from moving trains was to much for this nice girl.
It was nineteen hours since he last heard from spanky, Shelia was to get a boat and make it to the coast to pick up Bridget, drop her off and meet up with Barett so they could pick up Rick and Maria at the train station. This all depended on things going a little better, a lot better.
Less than twelve hours ago he had been aproached by the French counter espionage service, they had offered him two million euros to tell them what was going on. They even offered to make him a double agent, with some tempting fringe benefits. Even though he owed the English no favors, and the fact that he knew someday that he was going to commit high treason, this was not the place. Telling them he was interested but unable to help them on this matter, he realized that something deeper than moving contraband across the continent was going on. Something that was dark and connected to the events in Bolivia, but how he did not know. The paranoid conspiracy theorist in him started to look at the people they were in with. Spanky was always there at the right moment, he had a lot of hidden skills, he could be a double agent or worse. Bridget she was the one who talked to him first, and was always asking questions about his past and job, she could be slipping info out very easy. Shelia, well He had always treated her with suspicion, even more so now that things were going strange. Maria, she was a probablity and had Rick wrapped around her finger as far as Barett was concerned. Admittedly she was very good at what she did, and looked very good doing it, he could see Ricks attraction, but she still had a hidden past and was not above suspicion. Rick, he was to be the only one that could be trusted, as long as Maria was not involved, there was only one way to be sure. Barett considered having Spanky and Shelia meet up with some accident, maybe even Bridget to, just to check his suspicions. Perhaps there was a better way to do that then killing people, he didn't think so, but would need to consider the other options.
The car ride yesterday through the country was relaxing and helped relieve Bridgets tension, the ancient churches and castles along the way were something that Barett had always wanted to see as well. The back route helped to weed out the tail and give him some time to think over Ricks plan. Bridget had proved more than frisky and the distraction of sex was a welcome break from the heat of the day. But that was hours behind him now, even though he could still smell the perfume of hers that had been rubbed into his shirt. Barett had liked the idea of a steady girlfriend, someone to relax with, but now considered her more of a liability. This was the conflict of his life style, the conflict of his personal life. Perhaps one day this would change.
At last he could wait no longer and made for the crate, hoping that he knew Rick well enough to find any traps.
Thought Barett as he sat in the shadows of the dark warehouse, staring at the woodcrate. Two days ago he was sitting on the warm beach with Briget. Her warm and firm body pressed againest his, stiring feelings he had long surpressed. She was talking of other vacations and other things they could do. Now pressed againest this cold brick wall, listening to the rats scurry to and fro, waiting for a text from Rick, he pondered what was more fun, her or the thrill of adventure. He was going to give him another half hour then break into the crate and take the package, hoping that he would find any traps Rick may have set. Afterwards he was going to take a small plane he had rented and fly to London, having Bridget parachute out over the coast with the package, while he took the plane in.
Bridget wasn't having as much fun as he was, she didn't like the interrorgation back in Sete. "One of the worst things I have had to do, ever!" She had said to him repeatedly. He found it to be juvenile, the interrigation that is, the they were no good at it, besides they had nothing, well besides the gun he managed to ditch before they left the island. She found out that he had an mean streak, well a dark sense of humor at least. When he lead the guys following them into some gay bars and paided the dancers for some favors on the officers. Or pulled the brake lines on car, hey anyone can end up into a canal. She just wanted some quiet and romance, he just wanted some dirty fun and dirty love, anything for the adrenaline rush. Barett realized now that some activities were better left out of the dating arena, this three day date was to much for the relationship. He could see she wasn't liking the deadly side of being a adrenaline junky, it was all fine in controled situations like skydiving or motorcycle racing. But the gun in your face, jumping from moving trains was to much for this nice girl.
It was nineteen hours since he last heard from spanky, Shelia was to get a boat and make it to the coast to pick up Bridget, drop her off and meet up with Barett so they could pick up Rick and Maria at the train station. This all depended on things going a little better, a lot better.
Less than twelve hours ago he had been aproached by the French counter espionage service, they had offered him two million euros to tell them what was going on. They even offered to make him a double agent, with some tempting fringe benefits. Even though he owed the English no favors, and the fact that he knew someday that he was going to commit high treason, this was not the place. Telling them he was interested but unable to help them on this matter, he realized that something deeper than moving contraband across the continent was going on. Something that was dark and connected to the events in Bolivia, but how he did not know. The paranoid conspiracy theorist in him started to look at the people they were in with. Spanky was always there at the right moment, he had a lot of hidden skills, he could be a double agent or worse. Bridget she was the one who talked to him first, and was always asking questions about his past and job, she could be slipping info out very easy. Shelia, well He had always treated her with suspicion, even more so now that things were going strange. Maria, she was a probablity and had Rick wrapped around her finger as far as Barett was concerned. Admittedly she was very good at what she did, and looked very good doing it, he could see Ricks attraction, but she still had a hidden past and was not above suspicion. Rick, he was to be the only one that could be trusted, as long as Maria was not involved, there was only one way to be sure. Barett considered having Spanky and Shelia meet up with some accident, maybe even Bridget to, just to check his suspicions. Perhaps there was a better way to do that then killing people, he didn't think so, but would need to consider the other options.
The car ride yesterday through the country was relaxing and helped relieve Bridgets tension, the ancient churches and castles along the way were something that Barett had always wanted to see as well. The back route helped to weed out the tail and give him some time to think over Ricks plan. Bridget had proved more than frisky and the distraction of sex was a welcome break from the heat of the day. But that was hours behind him now, even though he could still smell the perfume of hers that had been rubbed into his shirt. Barett had liked the idea of a steady girlfriend, someone to relax with, but now considered her more of a liability. This was the conflict of his life style, the conflict of his personal life. Perhaps one day this would change.
At last he could wait no longer and made for the crate, hoping that he knew Rick well enough to find any traps.
Friday, January 23, 2009
The Paris Club ( Masion De Loon )
Rick thought that the cologne, if thats what you called it, smelled weird. The clothes were amazingly comfortable though, and even though they both smacked his bottom and whistled at him when he left, he was gratful for the help. ( they giggled way to much for grown men, in Ricks opinion ). But he was one good looking guy, no doubt about it, dressed really slick, out on the town in Paris, out to have a good time. The H&K 9mm was tucked into the small of his back but the rifle had to be hidden inbetween the mattresses in the hotel room. This bits and pieces of equipment left all over the place was creating quite the headache. Somewhere out there Barett was waiting for a text message about the package. Rick knew that he should get that text to Barett off tonight, he was probably wondering if Rick boobytraped the crate. He still had gear in the truck of Carla's car, a women he had just meet, weapons in a hotel room and bodies piled up in a park, lots of other things to worry about before Barett. At least Paris was exciting, better then Sete.
The Line to the club was long, but Rick managed to make friends with a group that had been drinking alot before they arrived, and before long had made his way into the front lobby with them. Splitting off from the group once they got him inside he looked around. The place was huge, 15 ft ceilings on the main floor opened into a large bar with tables and waiters, to the back was another room with dancers in cages and some stage act going on in the back corner, on the left was a large staircase that was packed with mostly younger people, this was where the dance music was ebbing out of. To the right were a set of elevators, and two large partial looks Horses guarding them, must be the VIP route, thought Rick. He was just starting to get his bearings when he hears his name called.
" Senior Rick, Senior Rick is that you ?" Says a sultry Italian voice.
Turning around Rick sees Carla, dressed in thigh high black leather boots and a matching leather micro skirt, a sheer black shirt, with a half jacket in black leather, tightly hugging her fantastic body. Her dark hair is slicked back and she holds her cigarette in a long filter from her left hand. A small sparkling clutch and black lipstick complete the image. She is absolutly hot, and every time she moves from side to side as she walks, you get a glimpse of her perky breasts through the sheer shirt. She walks right up to Rick and plants a quick kiss on the lips before you can say anything.
" You cleaned up very well, a little on the gay side, but very well indeed, I may decide to keep you around a little longer. Come with me and dance upstairs, as we look for this " MISSING GIRLFRIEND" of yours. If that is what she is. " Says Carla in a mocking, jovial tone.
Rick can tell she is really putting on the charm to you, he thinks that if he said' lets leave right now and go back to your place' she would jump at it, or him. The thought goes through his mind, then another one involving a french phrase. Snapping back to the task at hand, he follows her as she takes his hand and leads him up the stairs to the second floor.
What does Rick do next ?
Meanwhile......................
Maria follows the man up to the third floor and in to a small room, there is a small bar in the corner and several other girls milling around. High end chairs and couches line the walls, and small tables and lamps tastfully fill out the room. There are several dark wood panelled doors that line the sides of each wall and men and women move in and out of several on the left side to other larger rooms. The nice gentleman shows her to a large leather couch in the corner and sits down next to her.
" what do you want to drink.......wine.....champage ? " he cordially asks.
" Some white wine would be nice, what rooms are these? " Maria casually replies.
" Ah, yes.......these are the VIP rooms, they cover the whole of the top floor, I take it you have not been here before....your accent gives you away on that matter to, where do you come from, I can not pinpoint the dialect ?"
" From Bolivia, I was raised there....." replies Maria as she scans the room. It is mostly full of young women in the same kind of clubwear that she has on.
" Yes, very exotic, the gentlemen will like that, who do you work for ?"
Maria seems a little taken back, she had no intentions of telling them she was a secret operative, how could they know. The shock soon worn off when she caught what was really going on. The girls in this room were High-end Call girls, waiting for the rich single men to pick them out for the evening. The man sitting across from her now must work for the club, escorting the new girls to the room and checking out their references. Maria didn't know weather to be mad or flattered about what was happening. It made sense, but it wasn't part of her plan....what was she going to do ?
The Line to the club was long, but Rick managed to make friends with a group that had been drinking alot before they arrived, and before long had made his way into the front lobby with them. Splitting off from the group once they got him inside he looked around. The place was huge, 15 ft ceilings on the main floor opened into a large bar with tables and waiters, to the back was another room with dancers in cages and some stage act going on in the back corner, on the left was a large staircase that was packed with mostly younger people, this was where the dance music was ebbing out of. To the right were a set of elevators, and two large partial looks Horses guarding them, must be the VIP route, thought Rick. He was just starting to get his bearings when he hears his name called.
" Senior Rick, Senior Rick is that you ?" Says a sultry Italian voice.
Turning around Rick sees Carla, dressed in thigh high black leather boots and a matching leather micro skirt, a sheer black shirt, with a half jacket in black leather, tightly hugging her fantastic body. Her dark hair is slicked back and she holds her cigarette in a long filter from her left hand. A small sparkling clutch and black lipstick complete the image. She is absolutly hot, and every time she moves from side to side as she walks, you get a glimpse of her perky breasts through the sheer shirt. She walks right up to Rick and plants a quick kiss on the lips before you can say anything.
" You cleaned up very well, a little on the gay side, but very well indeed, I may decide to keep you around a little longer. Come with me and dance upstairs, as we look for this " MISSING GIRLFRIEND" of yours. If that is what she is. " Says Carla in a mocking, jovial tone.
Rick can tell she is really putting on the charm to you, he thinks that if he said' lets leave right now and go back to your place' she would jump at it, or him. The thought goes through his mind, then another one involving a french phrase. Snapping back to the task at hand, he follows her as she takes his hand and leads him up the stairs to the second floor.
What does Rick do next ?
Meanwhile......................
Maria follows the man up to the third floor and in to a small room, there is a small bar in the corner and several other girls milling around. High end chairs and couches line the walls, and small tables and lamps tastfully fill out the room. There are several dark wood panelled doors that line the sides of each wall and men and women move in and out of several on the left side to other larger rooms. The nice gentleman shows her to a large leather couch in the corner and sits down next to her.
" what do you want to drink.......wine.....champage ? " he cordially asks.
" Some white wine would be nice, what rooms are these? " Maria casually replies.
" Ah, yes.......these are the VIP rooms, they cover the whole of the top floor, I take it you have not been here before....your accent gives you away on that matter to, where do you come from, I can not pinpoint the dialect ?"
" From Bolivia, I was raised there....." replies Maria as she scans the room. It is mostly full of young women in the same kind of clubwear that she has on.
" Yes, very exotic, the gentlemen will like that, who do you work for ?"
Maria seems a little taken back, she had no intentions of telling them she was a secret operative, how could they know. The shock soon worn off when she caught what was really going on. The girls in this room were High-end Call girls, waiting for the rich single men to pick them out for the evening. The man sitting across from her now must work for the club, escorting the new girls to the room and checking out their references. Maria didn't know weather to be mad or flattered about what was happening. It made sense, but it wasn't part of her plan....what was she going to do ?
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