by Sells, W. G.
“Hi, Myron,” I say softly, trying not to waken a snoozing Annette, who by all rights should have awakened herself by her snoring. Man, I’ve heard quieter dental drills.
“Good morning, Julie.”
“That’s ‘Peggy’ now.”
“Oh, yeah, I forgot.”
What? “Myron, you’re the one who came up with the name.”
“Sorry,” he said. “There has been a lot going on since then, you know.”
“Yeah, I know, but I have something to give you to remind you,” I said as I balled up my hand into a fist in the same way I had slugged Scooter in the gut the night before. “It’s just a little something for when I see you next.”
“You shouldn’t have,” he said, “but thanks.”
“No problem. It will be my pleasure. So, what’s going on?”
“Well, we have a little situation we need you to take care of for us. Are you up for it?”
“It depends.”
“It pays well,” he said.
“I’m listening. What’s the danger-factor on a scale of one to ten?”
“Um, I’d say…maybe…a three.”
“With ten being the worst, Myron?” I said.
“Oh, well then…maybe…a seven or even an eight.”
Great.
“So, am I alone in this or is there going to be a team effort? I really don’t like the way you hang me out by myself to dry while the other team members come in at the end to clean everything up.”
“I know and I take full responsibility for those past oversights. I can assure you that….”
“Oversights?” I scream and look back toward Annette, who is already up from the couch and sitting five feet behind me on the floor smiling. She excitedly mouthed the words, “I knew there was a team!” I got up and went into the bathroom and locked the door.
“They weren’t oversights, Peepers!” I whispered with vehemence. “You deliberately lied to me and drugged me and let me get kidnapped…”
“You jumped from the car…” he started to say, and then stopped. “Why are you whispering?”
“None of your business,” I said, as Annette knocked on the door.
“Tell him I want to join the team,” she said through the door.
“No,” I said to Annette.
“No, what?” Myron asked. “I haven’t even told you the job yet.”
“Tell him how I snuck into your place,” she insisted.
“No, no, Annette!”
“Annette?” Myron says. “Annette is home with you?”
“Please,” she pleads.
“Yes,” I say to Myron, but Annette overheard.
“Great! Thank you!” she screamed.
“Why is she thanking you?”
“She wants to be on the team.”
“No way,” said Myron.
“Tell him I already know all about you guys and…”
“Hold on Myron,” I said, and open the bathroom door. Annette was leaning her back against it and almost fell inside on top of me. I whispered to Annette.
“Do you want to sleep on the street tonight?”
“No.”
“Then shut up and let me talk on the phone.”
“Fine, I’ll make some coffee,” she huffed, and then paused. “Where’s the coffee?”
I pointed toward the kitchen and then went to my bedroom and shut the door.
“Okay, Myron,” I said. “Go on.” Myron laughed.
“You are something,” he said. “You really have Annette in your place?”
“Yes, and she figured out Scooter and Queen and I and the rest of us put away her ex-boyfriend and that I was conning her in the jail.”
“Oh, crap.”
“Yeah. So, she needs a place to crash for a while and she needs a job. Make room for her or find someone else to do this job.”
“We took you in, remember?” he insisted. “You didn’t start this thing, you know.”
I sensed I needed to tone it down.
“Yes, Peepers dear, I didn’t start it, but I’m going to finish it. So, what is this seven or eight-out-of-ten on the danger-scale assignment?”
As Myron explained the job, I took a few notes and headed for the kitchen to get some coffee. Annette met me half-way with a steamy mug, and then turned and sheepishly scurried back to the kitchen, like a kid who knows she had better behave or won’t get to go on the pony ride.
A little later, I ran some errands to get ready for the job and then came home. Annette was in the kitchen preparing a late lunch.
“Soup and sandwich,” she said.
“Thanks, but no time,” I said.
“Are you going to…” she started to say and then clammed up, knowing she shouldn’t ask.
“There’s a big thermos somewhere in that pantry and plastic baggies. We’ll take lunch with us.”
“Us?”
“Yep, you are coming with me.”
“Great!” she said and ran for the pantry. She stopped and turned. “Will we make it back in time for the party tonight?”
“Probably not,” I said sadly. I had wanted to go and get loose, lascivious and lucky, and by the look on her face she did too. Poor thing. “Maybe we’ll hit a late-night meeting.”
“Boring,” she said.
Little did she know that what we were going to be doing was anything but boring. In fact, we would both welcome a ‘boring’ anything after this night.
The view of DC is beautiful heading over the Arlington Memorial Bridge. The Lincoln Memorial and the Washington Monument are in the forefront and the dome of the Capitol is visible in the distance. The bridge itself sports low bannisters for a great view and shows the Kennedy Center, the National Cathedral and the memorial to Thomas Jefferson.
The bridge is a grand entrance into the capital of the world’s grandest power. Eight foot high stone eagles are perched on pylons at the west end, and U.S. flags are hung from every lamppost on special occasions. In the spring, red tulips grace both ends of the bridge. How do I know this? I read it in the Washingtonian Magazine. Tonight, though, my mind was in a whirl and I didn’t take in any of it. Annette, on the other hand, didn’t miss a beat and rambled on about everything she spotted.
As we headed over the bridge and into Virginia, the last gleams of sunlight were fading behind us. The grand spectacle must have faded too, for Annette quieted down. I was glad for the chance to think in silence. Soon, she and I would be in the thick of an intrigue that rivaled anything our grand forefathers could have foreseen.
My snake is bigger!
[Previously in Traverse, Inc. – Peggy and Annette drive into the city to do a seven or eight-out-of-ten on the danger-scale assignment.]
Dressed to the nines, Annette and I hit the city, and I hit her with every question I could think of to keep her sharp.
“Do it again,” I said, as she studied her new driver’s license and social security card, “and don’t peek." She exhaled loudly.
“Blair Mitchell, twenty-three, worked as a copywriter for a senator ‘who’s no longer a senator’, we both did actually, and Peggy was with him longer and could tell you all about it…ah, Peggy dear?” She pretended to wave me over.
“That’s not gonna work,” I said.
“I know what I’m doing,” she said. “Come on, Julie, we’ve been at this the whole drive down and we’re here already.”
“Okay then, take another deep breath,” I said, and did, as we pulled up to the valet. “And don’t call me Julie.”
We walked the short flight of steps and came to the doors of the giant building. There were at least ten doors open and a guard stood at each one. They checked our invitations and pointed us to go through the next door. We entered into the grand reception area that was cordoned off to guide everyone toward the escalators. Scanners were set up to check for weapons and uniforms were everywhere.
I smiled at Annette and she gave me a hammy smile back and leaned in so close we almost clipped noses. I wanted
to raise my heel and stomp on the new shoes I bought her to go with the dress and purse, but I was planning on returning them.
Upstairs, the affair was in full form. Trays with food and drink floated by as did the melodies coming from a combo situated on a small stage to the side of a larger stage in the center.
“First stop!” I said to Annette and led her toward the tables. We found a nice place that had already been partly staked out by sweaters, jackets and purses. We put our stuff down next to theirs and headed for the bar.
“Hey, how’s my makeup?” Annette asked.
“Great,” I said barely glancing. I was busy looking for a guy with a tray of drinks.
“Champagne, miss?” said a man with a tray behind us. When I turned I smiled. Scooter held up the tray of flutes.
“Wonderful,” I said and took a glass.
“Yum,” said Annette and took Scooter by the arm with one hand and a glass with the other. “Very tasty, I bet,” she added with a wink to Scooter. She turned to smile at me.
“Having fun?” I said dryly and nodded toward Scooter. “He’s second stop.” Annette grimaced.
“Crap, sorry,” she said to Scooter.
“No problem,” Scooter said and smiled at her.
I coughed and got his attention. “So, where is third stop?”
“Hold on,” said Scooter and tapped the switch on his belt. “Hey babe, is he still behind me by the Carlton Bar?”
“Yeah, he still there,” said Queen over the microphone, “but don’t call me babe if you gonna say ‘No Problem’ and let that Hoozie rub all up on ya. You got another thing coming if you…”
I laughed since I had a mic in my ear. Annette didn’t and looked at me. Scooter choked and turned away. Queen didn’t stop till Scooter had gone to another couple to serve champagne, and I couldn’t stop grinning, which drove Annette crazy as I pointed her toward the bar.
I could see the target and angled toward him, pretending to talk to Annette the whole way. She played along. We sidled up to the bar four stools and six people away. It was the perfect place to fish and we used our bait to the fullest.
After thirty minutes we were center stage but we still played coy. I locked eyes with him several times, but more and more he was gravitating toward Annette, who had been offered the stool next to him by another man who was monopolizing the conversation. Several other men had gathered around the ‘Hoozie’ as well. The target turned to me instead.
“Where are you ladies sitting?” he asked.
“Somewhere over there,” I said and pointed behind.
“Would you join me at my table?”
“We don't sit with strangers.”
He bowed his head. “My apologies,” he said. “Let me introduce myself, I am Philippe de Rosa.”
“Oh,” I said with as much surprise as I could muster, and as much vigor, “I am Margaret. Nice to meet you, and yes, we’d love to sit at your table.”
As Annette and I gathered our things, I was able to tell her that she was more likely to be the one and to be ready. She nodded her head.
“Caviar, ladies?” said a man’s voice I recognized behind me.
“Yes,” I said and turned to see Tree.
“Enjoy the show tonight,” he said. “I hear it’s breathtaking.”
“Seven or eight out of ten say that very thing,” I said and took a cracker. Annette tried to take one off of the tray, but Tree moved it back to me to take another and to hand me a small box with holes in the side. Inside the box was a mesh cage that held a little surprise.
“Once you get to the inner circle,” he told her, “stay with the strong suit and get the key. Peggy will work the snake.”
“What if he wants me to work his other snake?” she said.
“He won’t,” said Tree. “We’ll make sure the only thing he can do in bed is sleep.”
“Okay,” Annette said and reached for the tray. “Can I have some freak’n caviar now?”
“Yes, miss and enjoy the evening.”
“Thank you,” we said and headed for the table.
We sat at his table with some other men and a few ladies we didn’t know. The show was fantastic! During a break he turned to me and asked if we would join him and his friends at a party up in his suite. We graciously accepted.
While we talked and waited for the second half of the show to begin, a light suddenly flashed and I looked up to see Cheese smiling in front of us with his camera. It only took a second for two heavies to quickly take his camera and escort him away from the table. As soon as they walked him away, BS came up with a tray of champagne. The target’s flute was laced with a slow-acting mickey.
The ride up the elevator told the story. Annette was behind me against the left wall with the target in front of me in the center. He kept trying to see past me to talk with her. Little Prick.
I was glad when the doors finally opened to the penthouse and we entered into a party already in progress. I checked my ego at the elevator – most of it anyway.
He led us through the crowd stopping to introduce us to groups along the way. It was a hodge-podge of people – mostly young Capitol Hill staffers, but a few older men with younger women milling nearby. He didn’t introduce us to the older men, though I could tell a few of them would have appreciated it. We must have looked like we had planned on looking - hot and approachable.
In the center of the room was an enormous glass container and inside was the largest python I had ever seen. A crowd gathered around the cage and I wondered how I was going to introduce the surprise without being seen.
“His name is Henri,” he said with a flick of French accent. “We have much in common for we both love to squeeze the life out of…life.” He laughed as he said it, as if he had said the funniest thing.
“Wow!” Annette said.
Sleezeball, I thought. Henri had squeezed the life out of many things including a few people. Philippe de Rosa was a ruthless man and his pet was his pride and joy, and was also a reminder to anyone who crossed his owner that their last meal might be themselves.
Finally, Philippe whispered to Annette and she giggled in character and took his arm as he led her to a guarded door. I took a position by the cage and watched them go inside. She turned and smiled at me. Hoozie.
I reached inside my purse and took hold of the box just as the distraction came out of the elevator. Sister Boom strode into the room, took one look at the snake and shouted, “My snake is bigger!” When she lifted up her skirt to show the room, I opened the box….
What's your Name?
[Previously in Traverse, Inc. – Peggy Lipton holds a small box over the python’s cage while Annette goes behind closed doors with Philippe de Rosa. Sister Boom enters…the room.]
“Good Morning,” the doctor said, spying my tray of food. “It’s good to see you eating, but don’t forget the prunes - they’ll come in handy.”
I looked at the prunes and was thinking about throwing them at his head, not for any other reason but to say “Thanks – they DO come in handy,” but I didn’t and wasn’t even sure I could throw them if I wanted to. I felt like I was in some grade-B horror movie: wrapped up from head to toe in bandages and blankets like The Mummy; hooked up to enough wires to rival Frankenstein, and apparently torn up enough to warrant the over-flowing waste can of used bloody gauze. Either The Wolf Man, Mr. Hyde or a Chupacabra had mauled me. The doctor leaned my head back, bent over me and shined a light into my eyes.
“Any memory problems?” the Doctor asked.
“No, I remember the last time you did that.” He didn’t smile.
“What is your name?”
“I, ah…”
I, ah…stared at the ceiling. Crap. Is this real or is it Memorex? This is frustration - trying to recall something you know you should know in an instant. Along with everything else, my brain ached.
“What is your name?”
Give me a sec…
My memory of the night before is mostly a blur f
rom the moment Sister Boom pointed out her snake. When everyone turned, I opened the box and quickly opened the mesh cage, ready to toss whatever it was inside. I had pictured a deadly tarantula or scorpion or a bright black and yellow poisonous Bolivian dart frog. I didn’t know, but before I let go, I saw inside. It was only a tiny oval pill. I shook the pill into the cage and before I walked away to join a group of men closer to the door that Annette had entered, I watched the pill as it floated over the edge of the cage and spun in circles to hit the bottom with a small puff and then a cloud – like a miniature H-bomb.
