“As long as I say. You have a problem?”
Orlov kept his eyes on Ivan’s. He was not going to turn away. The tension between them tightened and the seriousness of the conversation quickly escalated toward DEFCON 2. The other men sitting near their table discreetly inched themselves away from the pair. There was always the chance of an explosion, and none of them wanted to be on the list of civilian casualties.
Like a rubber band snapping, the tension suddenly broke when a cell phone rang. It was Orlov’s. The room deflated when he stood up to take the call outside. Civil war had been averted.
“Grigory Orlov?”
“Yes,” he said, lighting a cigarette.
“I have a man coming to help you”
“When?”
“Soon. A few days.”
“What is payment for job?”
“No payment.”
Orlov frowned. “Why?”
“I want you to keep this between us. Tell no one. The job is free.”
“Okay. What is this person’s name?”
“Never mind his name. I’ll call you the day before he comes.”
The line went dead.
Orolov smiled as he tucked the cell phone away in his jacket. Darby’s days were numbered.
Chapter 58
The next day at the Teleco offices, Hillary was in the second floor breakroom making a cappuccino when Harold slithered in. Back from his trip with all sorts of confidence, he immediately rubbed up against her.
“Hey, Hillary,” he oozed. “What’s shaking?”
Hillary took a step to the side. “Nothing.”
“Yeah, I’m sure a girl like you has nothing exciting going on in her life.”
“You nailed it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m busy.”
“You know I just got back from vacation. Went to the Ukraine. Heard of it?”
“Yeah. What were you there for?”
“A little R & R, but it was very difficult with all the tail I was getting.”
Hillary opened her mouth and stuck her finger inside. “Ugh. I think I’m going to throw up.”
Harold quickly grabbed Hillary by the arm and leaned. His beady eyes narrowed and his teeth were clenched. “Bitch. Who do you think you’re talking to?”
His face was within inches of hers. She could see his large pores, like little craters all over his face. The stench of his breath was a cross between sweaty feet and a wet dog. She could even feel his snorts against her neck.
“Let go of me,” she said icily.
“Not until you tell me what the fuck went on with you and Darby while I was gone.”
“Nothing went on with us. I had dinner with him, that’s all.”
“What about yesterday? You had lunch together?”
“And that’s all it was, lunch.” Hillary was at a loss for words. This man had spies everywhere.
Harold had even been using Hillary as a spy but was unsuccessful; she never had any good information for him. He was about to give up on her until now. Finally, a person under his influence who could dig into Darby’s life. At first he didn’t think the information he had on Hillary was worth anything. But now he was going to push her as hard as he could to get what he wanted—dirt on Darby. “What does he talk about?”
“I don’t know. Lately, just me.”
“Well, here’s our new deal. You get me something on this joker and I keep quiet.”
“What if there’s nothing to get? I mean, I don’t get the impression that’s he’s doing anything wrong. He’s actually a nice guy.”
“Are you falling for him?” His grip momentarily loosened. “That’s it. You like him.”
“So what if I do?” Hillary tried to shake her arm free but he tightened his hand again.
“Did you fuck him yet?”
“That’s none of your business,” she said as she continued to squirm.
Harold squeezed her arm tighter. “Answer the question,” Harold growled.
“No, I haven’t.”
“I don’t care if you do. Sloppy seconds. It’ll be one more thing I have over him.”
Hillary was finally able to shake her arm free and told Harold to go to hell. Before she walked away, Harold told her if she didn’t start producing some meaty info on Darby really soon, something was going to be released.
Sitting in a stall in the ladies’ bathroom, Hillary rubbed the life back into her arm. She needed time to think. Harold had her backed into a corner. The last thing she wanted was for everyone at Teleco to find out she had slept with Harold Epstein.
Last year at the company holiday party, Hillary and the other two admins, Alix and Maggie, were partying hard—too hard for a company function. But Teleco had a great year and had rented out the San Francisco Opera House for their holiday party. It was a grand event.
Everyone was dressed to the nines—tuxedos and gowns. The food was decadent and the drinks were top shelf. It was the most formal function the company had ever thrown. People left in every state of intoxication from feeling toasty to being full out overboard. No one worried, though; the company had arranged for cabs to drive every single employee home.
That’s where Hillary’s ordeal began.
She was put into a car by a fellow co-worker—don’t ask her who. All she remembers was having an interesting conversation and then realizing Harold was in the cab, sitting next to her, talking. She had asked him what he was doing. He said the managers were making sure everyone got home. Seemed to make sense.
Next thing she knew she had a terrible headache and was laying naked in a strange bed. She rolled over and faced the hairiest back imaginable. Harold’s back. She screamed at him, “What the hell are you doing. Did you take advantage of me?”
Harold was calm. “Quite the opposite,” he told her, with a Cheshire cat grin. “You attacked me. And you called all the shots.”
Hillary didn’t believe him. She was threatening to report him to HR when Harold pulled out his phone and showed her the video of the two of them, naked, entwined with each other. It was obvious that Hillary was playing to the camera. She ordered Harold around, switched positions, and even held the camera to switch up the angles. She was totally into it—hardly as though someone had taken advantage of her. Hillary couldn’t believe it. She loved sex but only with hot guys, not flabby hairy bastards with small penises.
That was the one thing Hillary thought she had going her way. Harold’s dick was no longer than an inch and a half fully erect. It looked like a little boys. Could she flip the video around and make it all about his tiny dick? Maybe, but there was just too much of her mouth on his tiny peewee peepee to guarantee it.
Harold promised Hillary that he would not show or talk about the video to anybody if every now and then she reported what she heard on the floor to him for one year. After that point he would trash the video. That’s all he wanted: information…and one more BJ.
Chapter 59
Being true to my offer the day before, I spent three hours mapping out all the places Hillary and I could have sex in the city. My experience in public sex was close to nil, just that one time in Minsk. Though I had plenty of ideas from the pornos I had watched in the past, but the meat of it came courtesy of Tav’s dad.
Tav’s father, while a worshipper of the Buddhist faith, loved his Penthouse magazines. When we were just kids, Tav and I would sneak them out of his hiding place and read them in his room. Eventually we got caught. Turns out the old man would stack them a certain way in his hiding spot, the top cabinet in his den.
One of my favorite parts of the magazine was Penthouse Forum–letters about how men find themselves in the predicaments where the only option they have is to have sex with some beautiful woman. It was crazy.
This weekend could be my opportunity to take Hillary in various places and positions. Hopefully she would be game.
“What’s up?”
I snapped out of my fantasy and saw Tav standing at the doorway to my office. “Planning the week
end.”
He plopped down into a chair, leaving one leg hanging over the arm. “Oh? What are we doing?”
Tav and Ralphie were still living with me so we pretty much fell into the habit of doing everything together.
“Not we—me. I got a weekend date planned with Hillary. Just the two of us, together for 48 hours.”
“Sweet. What are you thinking? Public sex?”
“Bingo.” Tav knows me all to well. “This is my opportunity to contribute to Penthouse Forum, my chance to give other guys hope that random sex can just happen. I know this isn’t random but it isn’t commonplace.”
“Damn dude, I was kidding but you’re serious.”
“Hell yeah! I mean I’m going to treat her right and wine and dine the woman so it doesn’t appear like I had a weekend orgy on my mind.”
“Ooh, devious.” Tav rubbed his hands together gleefully. But then he sobered. “How are the other things coming along?”
“What? The Viktor thing?”
“Yeah.”
“I talked to Ivan. Told him the whole story. You know, except for talking to Sokolov.”
“He didn’t freak out that you were testifying against a known gang member?”
“No, not really.”
Tav flipped his leg off the arm of the chair and sat up. “So that’s it? Case closed?”
“I got the Buchko’s working on it from their end. Detective Sokolov and his European contact are on it and now Ivan and his men are on it. I don’t know what more I can do.”
Tav stood and threw his hands up. “What happens if a month or two goes by and nothing? Meaning, Viktor’s not captured; nobody has heard or seen from him. What then?”
I shrugged. “I think at that point I forget about him. I don’t expect the Darby Death Watch to continue forever. One thing I do know, though: I’ll never be able to head back to Minsk.”
Chapter 60
Before I knew it, it was Friday. My magical weekend with Hillary would begin at the end of the day. I strolled into work with an extra kick in my step. Even Stewie noticed the difference.
“Why so chipper Mr. Stansfield?”
“Got a lot to be chipper about,” I said without stopping.
I stepped into an elevator and pressed the number twelve button. I loved doing that. It never got old, especially when there were others in the elevator. It was my way to point out that I was a heavy-hitter. However, today I was riding solo.
Just as the doors were closing, a thick hairy arm slipped through, stopping them. No, no, no, no, no….
Only one person in this company had an arm that looked like animal hide: Harold Epstein. The door reversed and there stood my nemesis.
“Ah, Stansfield. Make any sales lately? Wait, let me answer that for you. It would be a big fat no. Am I right?”
I wasn’t going to give this dumb tool the satisfaction of an answer. That’s what he wanted: to goad me into a conversation with him. For Harold, information was everything. The more he had on you, the more power he held over you.
That’s why I usually kept my mouth shut around him. I never surf the Internet on the company computer or network. This sloth had nothing on me. And he never will. I’m too clever for his caveman smarts.
“Silent treatment huh? Whatever. Did you hear?”
Don’t answer. That’s what he wants.
“Had myself a little vacation… in the Ukraine.”
What! Stay cool Darb. “You don’t say ‘in the Ukraine’. It’s ‘in Ukraine’.” Why isn’t he getting off on the sixth floor?
“You’re not the only one who can afford those little social trips to Eastern Europe.”
The elevator stopped on twelve. I held the door before exiting so I could address Harold one last time. “Look, I’m sure you’re having a ball with your tall tale, but it’s not going to work.”
Harold followed me out of the elevator and kept in step.
“What do you mean ‘not going to work’?”
“Nothing you say can get me riled up. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a lot of work to do. I’m a heavy now and the company expects me to bring in heavy amounts of dough.” I headed to my office thinking my conversation with the standing hippopotamus was over.
It wasn’t.
Harold closed the door as he entered my office.
“What do you want, Harold?”
“I know. I know what you’re doing.”
•••
Back in Odessa, Harold had wasted no time getting the newspaper article translated by the person at the front desk. He knew all about the case, about Viktor Kazapov, about Darby’s testimony and Viktor’s conviction. The article called him “the brave American.” That is, until Viktor escaped.
Harold began putting the pieces together. Darby had a Russian client. Viktor Kazapov was Russian and associated with organized crime. Could Darby’s Russian client somehow be connected to organized crime? How else would Darby find himself mixed up with the Russian Mafiya?
Harold was on to something. He knew where to look. Harold figured it was only a matter of time before he uncovered the truth.
•••
“You don’t know Jack, so shut your pie hole and get the hell out of my office.”
It was right after I said those words that Harold dropped the first bomb. He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and slammed it down on my desk.
It was a copy of a newspaper article with my picture in it.
“What is this? Is this some sick joke of yours?”
“Don’t play dumb. You know what this is. You didn’t take that trip to meet girls. You flew to the Ukraine to testify in this trial.”
Holy moly. The blob’s begun to figure things out. I had to find out what he knew.
“For your information, I did take a tour to Minsk. I have the paperwork to back it up. This picture only proves one thing: Someone in Ukraine looks like me.”
“Play dumb. I don’t care. I’m going to figure it out. It’s just a matter of time. And when I do, I’ll personally kick your ass out the front doors of Teleco.”
“Spoken like a true donkey. Now, get the hell out of my office.”
Harold turned around and took two steps before stopping. “Oh, I hear you got some stupid romantic weekend planned with Hillary.”
If this a-hole has my office bugged I’m going to beat him silly.
“I heard she puts out. You might get lucky.”
“And this advice is coming from the guy who has to get his hand drunk in order to get off.”
Just has Harold turned the corner out of my office, he stopped again. He looked back at me with a crooked grin and dropped the second bomb. “Say hello to the mole near her left labia for me.”
Mole? Left labia? No, no, no, no…
Chapter 61
The rest of the day at the office dragged. Harold had discovered a crack in the armor and I didn’t know what to do. He had the upper hand and I could feel the screws tightening. Just when I thought I had everything under control and I could begin to focus on my personal life, in walks the boogeyman with a fresh nightmare.
Hillary knocked on my door. “Can I come in?”
“Sure.”
She had come up to my office twice to figure out what was on the docket that night. I wouldn’t tell her; she looked too cute trying to figure it out.
“You look a little sad. Is anything wrong?”
I pretended nothing was. I didn’t want to spoil the weekend for her, even though Harold had already rained on my day. My objectives were to deal with each accusation one by one. First and foremost was Hillary. I had to get to the bottom of the labia comment. “I’m fine and you’re not getting any information.”
“But I have to know how to dress properly.”
“Trust me, you’re dressed properly.”
“At least tell me what the function is? Will we at least be eating?”
“All right, we are having dinner.”
“Reservations required?�
��
“Yes, why?”
“That tells me it’s at least four star. Now I have an idea. Bye, I have to go and change.”
Before I could get a word out about her already looking perfect, she disappeared.
Later that night, the car service I hired brought us to the The Cliff House.
Hillary let out a little shrill of excitement. “I love this restaurant.”
The Cliff House does what the name implies; it sits on a cliff near the mouth of the San Francisco Bay with unobstructed views of the Pacific Ocean. I made sure we got there early enough to catch the sunset over some pre-dinner drinks. Her blue-green eyes sparkled each time the candle on our table fluttered. She was by far the better of the views.
I was glad Hillary did the whole makeover again when I told her I had to make reservations for the restaurant because she looked absolutely stunning. I was blown away, especially considering she had done it for me.
Somehow Hillary managed to squeeze her body into a very tight cocktail dress that might as well have been a second layer of skin. It was also mostly made out of lace; I could tell she wore nothing underneath. Yummy. There was a nice bow, however, accented with Swarovski cystals placed right where the left shoulder strap met the front of her dress. It was perfect. Her golden hair spiraled down just below the back of her shoulders. She topped off the entire ensemble off with black stilettos. It was a great way to start the evening.
Take two tender fillets, add plenty of pinot noir, and you end up with two very happy people enjoying each other’s company. I couldn’t stop thinking about kissing Hillary. Her full lips, with just a hint of a pink lipstick, beckoned to me. Not less than a million times was I tempted to reach across the table and guide her mouth to mine, kissing with just enough force so she knew this was a man kissing her but not overly rough, like I skipped the warm-up session.
I had the rest of the night planned out all the way to four in the morning should we need it. We didn’t. We skipped past go and went right to her place after dinner, mostly because it was closer than mine.
I don’t think we were more than a foot inside her apartment before our lips locked and our tongues started their own date.
Darby Stansfield Thriller Series (Books 1-3 & Bonus Novella) Page 43
