Lover

by Valerie J. Long

  If there’d been as much open talk about the Cartel leaders, I’d have come much farther there. But with this topic even the loosest tongue suddenly got tied up.

  Okay. That guy somehow belonged to an aircraft manufacturer’s secret research department, and after an argument about patents and his salary, he had short-handedly absented himself with the first and only prototype of a new weapons guidance system. I could understand that his employer wasn’t happy about that. The US Air Force wasn’t happy about it, either. On the other hand, I could well imagine the Cartel secretly being very happy, even if they didn’t yet dare to take the US forces on openly. Within their ranks, there were still many Invasion veterans, who had fought the extra-terrestrials eye-to-eye together with the Lionhearts, and weren’t easily intimidated by mere terrestrial enemies.

  This way, I once again had an opportunity to rain on the Cartel’s parade. That might lure them out of their hiding and give me a lead.

  Contemplatively, I watched Gomez’ face. “When will we meet?”

  “The day after tomorrow. Recco first needs to find out where exactly our target is.”

  “Okay. Here?”

  “Here.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Gomez seemed to be tired. Recco didn’t look much better; only Grater appeared unaffected.

  “Ey, Velvet. Everything ready?”

  “Sure, Boss. Let me just finish my drink.” I pointed at the freshly tapped beer in front of me. “One for you?”

  “Not before the mission. That will be bloody difficult anyway.”

  “Will it be?” With the tip of my foot, I kicked against a neutral cardboard box under the counter.

  “What have you got there?”

  “The only prototype of a top secret weapon guidance system. Found it.” I took a sip of my beer. “Been as easy as taking candy from a baby.”

  “How did you do that? How did you know?”

  “The how is a business secret.” I had climbed the outer wall of one of the towers carrying the hanging sections, had then snuck in through the garden door, where I simply had reprogrammed the Frostdragon security installations to ignore me. For one level, I then took the fire stairs. The room door had been no problem at all. “I could easily figure out what it was all about.”

  “Crap!” he yelled. “Damned Dragon dung!”

  The other guests stared at him. “Excuse me, folks. That simply had to get out.” Then he took my beer and drank it empty. “We’ve been working all through the last two days and nights to at least find out where he’s hiding and how we could get in. We’ve prepared a plan whom to take out when, to gain a few minutes for you. And you’ve been inside already? Nobody gets in and out of the Flying Gardens unseen.”

  “Except for me.”

  “Except for you. Madonna mia, that’s incredible. Come, let’s get away.”

  “Take the box. I’ll stay.”

  “Velvet—”

  “I know. They will eventually come and search here, too. The box should no longer be here by then.”

  “And you?”

  “I’ve got nothing to do with it. I’ve only guarded a box here.”

  “They won’t care whether you’re guilty or not. You know that, do you?”

  “Don’t worry about me.”

  “Well, then.” Gomez picked up the box and handed it to Grater. “Put that into the car. Recco, have a look around whether it’s all clear outside. I’m coming.”

  He showed two fingers to the barkeeper. “Damn. We’ve been prepared to stir up the whole town. You’re looking as calm as if you’d been for a walk in the park.”

  Not quite, the three-hundred meters in gecko mode had been strenuous. Most of all, the descent with luggage had proven delicate, as the additional weight almost would have been too much for my suction fingers. But otherwise?

  “It was a walk in the park. I’m good at my job, Boss.”

  Now Gomez smirked. “I bet you’d even simply walk into Frostdragon.”

  “If I did, you wouldn’t hear about it.”

  “Except for the reports on unusual security checks in the factory vicinity, what?”

  Indeed, there had been such reports. This part simply couldn’t have been hidden, even if Frostdragon’s press speaker had firmly insisted that it had been an exercise.

  “That was an exercise.”

  “That’s what they said. They’ve never made exercises before. Bloody hell, Velvet?”

  I only smiled at him. Oh damn, his admiring look felt so good! It provided me with a recognition that I hadn’t received for a long time—that is, aside from that for good sex.

  There had been Ronnie, and later Alan. When I had surprised them, they had had a similar look, and I had to admit to myself that I enjoyed these looks. They gave me the feeling of being worth something beyond my physical engagement.

  Dangerous. Oh yes, that was dangerous. It could entice me to become reckless and do something stupid—for example, to steal from Frostdragon, visit the ZONE or take the Cartel on. No, I managed to do that without the admiration.

  “Velvet, tell me that it’s not true.”

  “Ey, Gomez, for that we hardly know each other, you’re very curious.”

  “You don’t deny it.”

  “I’m good at what I’m doing. I can’t say more about it.”

  “Okay. I owe you one, Velvet.”

  “Ah, right. Payoff. How does it work?”

  “I’ll collect from my client, and then the premium will be shared. Normally two shares for me, one share for each of you. Damn—actually, you should have it all.”

  “One quarter for each.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s been your mission, your acquisition, and the others were ready to do their part. We also bear the risk together. To me, even shares look fair.”

  “Agreed, although I don’t understand. Well then. I’ll send you a package to here. Your share is a hundred grand. Pick it up soon, Jesse here won’t grant for anything.”

  “Oh, I’d advise anyone against stealing from me.”

  “I quite believe it.”

  “Good. Once the money arrives, we’re even.”

  “We’re not. I said I owe you one. You’ve spared me a lot of trouble and stress. I’ll remember that. Okay?”

  “Okay, Gomez. And if you ever look for something again…”

  “I’ll ask you first. See you again.”

  “See you again.”

  Chapter Twenty

  “Good evening, Jesse.”

  He flinched when I appeared behind him, and he slowly turned around. “Velvet.”

  His eyes flickered around nervously, but the small yard at his bar’s rear entrance was clean—I had checked that. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have shown up.

  “You’ve got something for me.”

  “Yes, exactly.” His voice was slightly trembling, but he reached into his pocket and produced a wrinkled envelope. “This was the safest place.”

  From its weight, it felt like a hundred thousand-Dollar-notes. I plucked one of them out and reached it back. “Thanks, Jesse.”

  “Um, Velvet.”

  “Yes, Jesse?”

  “Better not come here for a while.”

  “I know, Jesse. The dogs are unleashed. That’s why I waited for you to close your shop. Vegas won’t see me for a while.”

  “Okay.”

  “Don’t worry, Jesse. This area is clean. Nobody has seen us together. You’ve never kept money for me. For all you know, I left together with the others and never came back.”

  “O—okay.”

  I left him, turned around a corner and became invisible. So Velvet disappeared. The next day, Yori would work her shift as always. And if the Cartel showed up, I’d dig deeper.

  That’s what I had thought.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “What’s going on today?” I complained. The Inferno’s third level was like deserted. The entire last hour, not a single guy had shown up.

>   “Don’t know, either,” Angie admitted. “I was upstairs just now. A few mopes are roaming the first level. On Two, a few lonely wrinkle-bags are sitting at the bar.”

  “You shouldn’t talk like this about our clients,” I chided her with a wink.

  “Okay. New clients with oversized swimmers and seniors with sagging tits.”

  “A pity. Should I lure the newcomers down?”

  Once I had accustomed myself to the fact that I couldn’t avoid sex with customers anyway, I had chosen the third level as my favorite. Here, I didn’t have to wear a bikini that only got in the way, soon became stained, and thus needed daily laundry. Here, I had at least the option of cozy chambers with their curtains, it wasn’t as hot as on the fourth level, and here the blokes usually at least asked before penetrating.

  Moreover, here you could meet the most interesting clients. Those on the upper levels weren’t relaxed enough, those on Four had nothing but sex on their minds. Level Three was frequented by connoisseurs who had come for relaxing, and who occasionally made useful and interesting remarks. Yori listened, feigned to understand only half of it, and focused on the guests’ well-being. Yori blended in with the background, and if she was noticed, then it was owed to her firm breasts, tight ass, and her fluffy pussy.

  “Yori, can you come over?”

  “Sure, Tom.” I followed him toward the stairs and enjoyed the sight of his bare butt and the play of muscles on his back. “What’s up?”

  “Pedro needs an inspiration.”

  “Okay.”

  Yes, it was obvious. Pedro was making an effort to please a less attractive woman with his versatile tongue, and his male pride hung down sadly.

  “Should we offer them something?” Tom asked.

  “Sure. Gladly.” I always liked to do that with Tom. We found a place where Pedro could see us well, and started to caress each other. It didn’t take long until his cock responded and firmly rose.

  We didn’t restrain our lust acoustically, either. Pedro’s client became aware of us and looked around with curiosity. Tom unabashedly showed her his erection, and I bent over so that he could take me from behind. Owing to this demonstration, the client didn’t take long to react to Pedro’s gentle directions, and bent over herself. Now Pedro—with happily erect pole—could watch the two of us while working on his own task.

  I liked Tom, not just for his looks. He was considerate and took care that I had my fun, and at the same time he had a remarkably big cock—hiring requirement, he always joked—and a good stamina.

  First, it was Pedro’s client’s turn, then Pedro was allowed to come, and finally Tom and I. Before Tom’s cock shrank, we granted Pedro’s client another view of it, and then the two of us had earned a break at the staff bar.

  “Do you have any clue what’s going on outside? Is a war coming up or what? There’re hardly any clients.” I very much hoped that my worst fears wouldn’t apply—that the Cartel would shoo the clients out to make room for a cleanup, either for Velvet’s actions, or because the killer had followed Jo’s tracks from Denver to Vegas. How safe was Yori, then?

  “No idea, Yori. Haven’t heard anything.”

  “A pity—hello, boss.”

  “Hello, Yori, Tom. Another break?”

  “The first today,” Tom replied, as always.

  “Aw, no matter. Today’s dead. You might as well go home.”

  “Do you know anything, boss? Are we at war, or what?”

  “No idea.” He switched the TV from sports to news and increased the volume.

  “…will be announced soon. Well.” The speaker glanced at a wrinkled note. “Temporary President Dooley stresses that the incidents will be thoroughly investigated. Well. Yes. As one of the first measures, the President has endowed a team of, ah, special investigators with extensive authority. This will serve to protect the public, the President stressed in his first speech. Well. We will broadcast the speech again shortly. Yes. The President stresses his request to the public to keep calm and, well, begs for your understanding for the temporary cease of air traffic. Well. Regular service will commence soon.”

  “What kind of Dragon poo is that?” our boss ranted. “What temporary President? What about the old one?”

  “What kind of news speaker was that?” I asked cautiously, while I pondered how bad it really was. “Do you have radio?” I asked the barkeeper, who nodded. “Switch it on.”

  “…all the large TV stations are aligned, and the radio stations will follow. Folks, I don’t know when they’ll come to get me, but once it happens, better not believe a word. Better try the Internet and have your own thoughts.”

  We looked at each other.

  “The most important facts again. Washington is in a state of war. The White House was assaulted, and after brief resistance by his bodyguards, the President and his family were arrested. Amateur pictures show heavy damage to the building, which allegedly resulted from plasma fire. Aside from the President and most Senators, the large TV stations were taken by a very well-organized gang, and you don’t need to be the great clairvoyant to know who’s doing the Corporate Sponsoring for this party. Folks, the free American press will go underground.”

  “Cut that crap,” the boss commanded. When the barkeeper didn’t immediately obey, the boss bawled him out louder. “Cut that, you Jelly brain. Do you want us caught listening to this station?”

  The radio fell mute. The boss looked around. “You didn’t hear anything. Business as usual. I don’t care what you think about it, keep it to yourself. You never know who might get it wrong. Consider where you are and who owns this hut. Clear?”

  Clear.

  I better put my mission here on hold. The Cartel surely wasn’t in the mood for clarifying talks now.

  Part Three

  Illumination

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “This is one of the worst spots,” Harold explained, and waved at a steel beam only one hand wide and reaching twenty meters out. “That beam is strong enough to bear a man, but it’s swinging. Up here, you can’t use a crane. You don’t have to go, though.”

  “No problem. Give me the spare. Which one is it?”

  “According to the photo, the last-but-fourth. If you can, check it right on spot.” He handed me a little bag and a blue spare lamp. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m not frightened.” Not even at two-hundred meters above ground on a narrow steel beam. I took the lamp and the bag.

  “Okay.” Harold held a harness and a safety line up for me. “Put that on, and then sit down on the beam. If you slowly move forward, it’s not that bad.”

  “It’s not bad at all, Harold.”

  Saying that, I dropped the bag, stepped on the beam and walked to its tip.

  “Yori!” I heard behind me. The wind pulled at my body, but it couldn’t take me off-balance.

  I bent down to the last-but-fourth lamp. Yes, the glass was slightly blackened from inside. With a quick move of the left, I released it from its bayonet mount, and in the same motion I replaced the new light. Clicked into place, okay.

  With a happy smile, I ambled back to Harold.

  “Girl, you’re driving me nuts,” he complained. “Don’t you have any respect for heights?”

  “I always have respect. Moreover, I’m trusting my skills. Where are we going next?”

  “The Invasion. You will like it.”

  Oh yes, I liked that. The illuminations on the sphere-shaped building’s outer face could easily be accessed by hatches, but had no maintenance platforms.

  On the top, that was no problem. The closer you came to the equator, the steeper the surface became. Harness and rope were mandatory. But most illuminated advertisements were applied to the lower half-sphere. If you didn’t pull yourself toward the sphere’s hull, you dangled freely.

  Maintenance for Las Vegas’ illuminated advertisements was definitely nothing for people suffering from vertigo. For someone used to climbing four-hundred-meters-high skyscrapers withou
t a lifeline, this job didn’t pose a challenge. Ordinary people had their trouble, so it was no surprise that there was only a single company accepting such assignments. Harold was an exception with regard to vertigo. However, he couldn’t do it all alone, so my application had met open doors with him.

  “I had many applicants before. Hardly anyone stayed for more than two or three days,” Harold explained. “You’re doing really well.”

  In exchange, we had access to practically every house in Vegas while being entirely unsuspicious. I could hardly find a better job for exploring the area.

  Okay, another lamp. I began to swing on my rope and aimed for the defective socket. Yes, perfect. Damaged lamp out, new lamp clicked in, done. Back to the hatch.

  Something held me. I looked down—the rope had caught the illumination’s edge. Crap. That was a very bad spot. If I climbed down now, it could get even more stuck. Actually, I’d need one more hand to unburden the rope, untie it around the catches, and still hold myself. Bloody stupid.

  Or?

  I simply released myself. Now the rope end was free, and I could climb down unimpaired. With two flicks of the wrist, I had freed the rope from its trap—and immediately it fell away from me into the vertical.

  Harold stared at me. I smiled back, and then I climbed up, swift as a monkey, and reached the hatch. He received me with worried face and outstretched arms and pulled me inside.

  “Yori, you’re a hopeless case.”

  “Ey, the rope got stuck. I could have been in real trouble if I’d have got further entangled. This way, it was safer.”

  “You’re born for this job, are you?”

  No, I surely wasn’t. But I didn’t argue. I was suited because I could overcome myself, and that had to suffice.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “Let’s go for a drink on that shock, won’t we, Yori?”

  “Gladly, Harold. Where?”

  “Right here in the Invasion, the bar is quite okay.”