by Luke Young
"What the hell?" From out of nowhere Nasir appeared gazing at the six of them with his jaw hanging open.
"Sorry Nasir."
"What is going on here?"
"We can't figure out which one is the girlfriend." Pointing to Stephanie, the man replied sheepishly. "She had sex with him today and the other one did yesterday, so we, uh—"
"No, I had sex with him today," Marci corrected.
"Silence!" Nasir screamed. "Take them both to the location." He narrowed his eyes. "And here I'll make this easy for you morons. The first one of them who speaks… kill her and then we will have just one."
The girls curled their lips then fired angry looks at one another.
"Got it?" Nasir shot them a weary look.
"Yes, sir."
"Now go!" Nasir flailed his hand dismissively and the four men rushed off, dragging the girls away.
11
Brock returned only slightly winded from his five mile run. He slipped up to his office, took off his sweaty clothes and got into his shower. Fareed and Kusay had been searching the offices for him for the last twenty minutes. After splitting up, Kusay headed off toward the south side of the building while Fareed doubled back toward the executive offices.
Hearing the sounds coming from Brock's office, Fareed readied his weapon and moved quietly through the outer door. He spotted shorts and a t-shirt lying on the carpet and moved quickly across the room to stand just outside the entrance to the bathroom. Holding his weapon across his chest, he took a deep breath.
Glancing through the doorway, he spotted a hulk of a man washing his hair behind the foggy glass shower door. He stepped carefully into the room with his finger on the trigger and approached the shower stall. He pulled open the door and Brock moved his head from under the spray as he struggled to see what was going on. "Stephanie?"
Fareed's eyes were drawn south and shot wide open. "Yaa raabi! Wald il qahbaa!" Fareed said while staring transfixed at Brock's ridiculously enormous equipment, which translates to, 'Oh my God’ and ‘son of a bitch!'
With the weapon lowered along with the intruders focus, Brock quickly opened his palm, cocked his arm back and delivered a devastating strike to the armed man's nose. A horrible crunching sound was followed my blood gushing from Fareed's face as he dropped instantly to the floor of the bathroom losing his weapon in the process.
As he lay groaning in pain Brock fell to the floor, putting the man in a rear chokehold, then with one flex of his bicep and twist, broke his neck killing him.
Brock pushed the man's lifeless body away, crawled over to pick up the automatic weapon and got to his feet. With the gun pointed at the door, he blindly reached into the shower and turned off the water.
Moving to the doorway, he stood still a moment with his back pressed up against the wall. He was dripping wet, naked and catching his breath. He picked up the phone hanging by the toilet and found there was no dial tone.
"Shit!" Rubbing his head, he thought the phone lines must have been cut. His eyes brightened with the hope that the wireless network might still be up. He peeked out the doorway and found it clear. Swiftly he glided past the opening to the other side of the bathroom and grabbed a towel, securing it around his waist.
After peering out the doorway again, he rushed to close and lock the outer door. Then he moved to his computer and went to work bringing up security camera images from around the building. Most of the views showed that the building was empty, but then he reached the lobby and saw Akbar sitting behind the desk. Looking closer, he saw the Colt LE6900 rifle leaning against the desk next to him.
Flipping through other images, he discovered the box truck parked at the loading dock, one man working near ventilation unit number two and another near ventilation unit number one, although from the distance he couldn’t tell exactly what they were doing. Moving to another image his jaw fell open upon seeing both Marci and Stephanie standing with their backs up against the support polls of a warehouse rack in the center of the building. Their hands were behind their backs and three men carrying the same Colt rifles were standing nearby.
"Fucking bastards!" He closed his eyes and groaned. Grabbing his telephone, he discovered it was also dead. His eyes scanned the desk in a desperate search for his cell phone, but it wasn't there. He grabbed his pants hung over the chair and searched the pockets to no avail. He moved back to his computer, flipping through the images once more, counting the men. One at the front desk, two at the ventilation units, three with the girls and three more rushing through the office that's nine total. Taking a closer look, he realized one of the three men in the office was twenty feet outside of his door and closing in.
Brock moved to the door and unlocked it, then rushed to the bathroom. After placing the rifle down, he pulled the dead man up and onto the toilet seat, positioning him and draping a towel over his head. He turned on the faucet then grabbed the gun and moved behind the partially closed door.
Peering through the hinged opening, he waited with a clear view of his office door. Seconds later the door swung open slowly and the barrel of a rifle poked through. Then the man appeared scanning the room before walking slowly toward the bathroom door. Brock grinned as the man hunched down tilting his head with his eyes widened as he no doubt spotted his supposed toilet sitting target.
Brock took aim, pulled the trigger twice and the man dropped to the floor in a heap. Running out of the bathroom, Brock moved to the outer door and peered out just as the other two men were ten feet down the hall. "Shit," he whispered before gritting his teeth and spinning out from the doorway firing bullets at both men's chest. Brock nailed the lead man right in the heart with multiple shots and he dropped down hard. Struck once in the shoulder, the second man returned fire and Brock took off down the opposite hall in his bare feet and wearing nothing but a towel as bullets sprayed all around him. Turning the corner, he stopped then peered back around quickly, spotting the man he tagged with a bullet and now also another man he recognized coming for him. It was Akbar.
Thinking quickly, he ran down the hall to the stairway and slipped through the steel door. He hurried down the steps, opened the door at the bottom slightly and peered out. It was clear, so he opened the door, scanned the hallway of darkened offices and narrowed his eyes. Hearing footsteps rushing down the steps, he moved into the middle office and pressed his body against the wall pointing the rifle toward the doorway.
Out in the middle of the plant, Nasir paced around angrily. The women were still tied to the rack as the two other men stood guard. Two men returned from the bowels of the building.
Nasir asked, "Are we all set?"
"Yes sir."
"Have you heard anything from Fareed or Akbar?"
"No. They are not answering."
Nasir sighed. "Let's go find them."
As the three headed toward the offices, Marci looked at Stephanie. "When I get out of here I'm totally going to have sex with Brock, like amazing sex."
"No, you’re not. I'm going to have sex with him." Stephanie sneered.
"You're crazy."
The terrorists shared a tired look. One sighed, looking to the ceiling. "Please, Allah, help us."
Marci said, "You know, I might even let Brock tie me up like this because this is sorta hot."
"What are you talking about?"
"I'm just saying that—"
"Shut up. Shut up you two!" One of the captors rushed over angrily. "I can't take it. Not another word."
After taking a deep breath, Marci sneered. "Hey, why do you hate us anyway? I mean, I know I have like five— two thousand dollar Louis Vuitton purses, and I really do care what Khloe and Kim are up to, but I mean, does that really make us bad people?"
"What?" The terrorist stared at her dumbfounded.
"The Kardashians… you know."
The man shook his head ruefully then looked to his partner who simply returned a shrug.
"One more word and I'm going to kill you."
Stephan
ie announced, "Yes, please kill her. Please, she's getting on my nerves too."
Marci shot her a pointed look. "If they kill anyone, they should totally kill—"
"Shut up! I'm serious."
The man pointed at Marci then at Stephanie and gritted his teeth. "Look, Nasir changed his mind and he won't let me kill either of you, but if I hear one more word, one more… I'm going to take off my underwear and shove it in your mouth. I've been wearing them for four days now and I haven’t showered once. Let's see you try to talk then."
Both women curled their lips tightly and widened their eyes. The man dropped his head in his hands and walked away groaning.
Inside the office, Brock heard the door swing open and then nothing else. Seconds ticked by as he waited with his heart beating out of his chest. Suddenly he saw the first man walk past the door way and he held his fire. As soon as the second man was in sight, Brock fired striking him once in the back of the head. The man dropped down and Brock fired a spray of bullets at the other man as he scurried away.
Brock listened for a moment and heard nothing. Peering out into the hall, he spotted Akbar lying dead on the floor, blood pooled around his head and a trail of blood drops leading toward the bathroom door. He grinned determined, crossed the hall then shuffled slowly sideways along the wall until he reached the solid wood door. Looking down he spotted the man's pants visible through the ventilation screen at the base of the door. Backing up to the opposite wall he took a deep breath, then took off launching his shoulder into the door. The heavy wood door exploded open, blasting into the man behind it and knocking him to the ground, sending his rifle skidding across the floor.
Brock smiled, leveling his gun at his target and pulled the trigger, but it clicked empty. The man groggily reached for his weapon and Brock stepped on his arm. The man squeezed in pain until Brock drove the heel of his other foot into his face knocking him out cold.
After picking up the intruder's weapon, Brock fired a fatal shot and left the bathroom, telling himself, four down and five to go. Rounding the corner, he came upon two men heading toward him. Without skipping a beat, he fired two perfect kill shots and they collapsed to the floor. Make that three to go.
Suddenly Brock felt the barrel of a hand gun pointing into his back. "Drop it Cocoa Death!" Nasir growled. "If you want to see your precious fiancée or girlfriend one last time before you die… drop it."
Brock sighed then ground his teeth together before tossing the rifle to the floor. After feeling a sharp pain in his neck, he collapsed to the floor.
12
An hour later, Brock returned to consciousness and found himself naked suspended by a rope tied around his chest, dangling high in the air, ten feet above a huge steel, twenty-foot-wide, industrial vat of white chocolate. Both his hands and feet were bound together with large plastic cable ties. It was like an absurd scene from an old James Bond movie. Nasir was standing on a platform alongside the vat and two other men held rifles gazing up at him wearing evil grins. Both Marci and Stephanie remained tied standing upright with their hands behind their backs.
"You killed my brother you American pig!" Nasir sneered. "You probably don't remember him or me— I got away from you, but I never forgot your chocolate stench."
"Let them go. This is between you and me."
"I want them to watch you die, like I watched my brother die."
Nasir's eyes went to Brock's unbelievably colossal package. "Everything with you Americans is big— big cars, big houses, big meals and your big penis. You make me sick with that thing."
"Um, most guys aren't even close to that size," Marci chimed in.
Stephanie added, "She's right. Yeah, most men don't even have half of—"
"Silence!" Looking down to the women, Nasir frowned. "Shut up or I'll kill you now instead of later."
"So what's the plan, you terrorist scum?" Brock boomed.
Returning his attention to the suspended SEAL, Nasir smiled. "Monday morning at ten, two chemical weapons will activate releasing poison gas into the ventilation systems killing all two thousand workers. When they find your body days later with the skin melted off from that molten chocolate, they won't even be able to identify you."
Brock burst into laughter.
"What is so funny?"
"That chocolate is just over one hundred ten degrees. It's not even as warm as a hot tub, you stupid terrorist fuck."
Nasir looked down to the two men with his hands raised and eye narrowed, waiting.
"He is right." The man shrugged. "Is not very hot, but tastes good."
"Idiots!" Nasir grunted then looked up to Brock. "Never the less…" Taking hold of a rope tied to the railing of the platform, he pulled a large knife from a holder on his belt and went to work sawing at it. "You love chocolate so much, Cocoa Death— let's see how long you can swim in it with your hands and feet bound before you sink to the bottom… dead."
Suddenly two gunshots back to back reverberated in the large steel building. Both men standing below fell to the concrete floor. Nasir looked around in a panic for the source of the shots and a millisecond later took one right between the eyes. He slumped forward over the railing then tumbled headfirst into the lukewarm white chocolate pool.
Brock spun around scanning the plant for the person responsible then he heard a woman's voice shout out, "Consider yourself enrobed, bitch!"
Gloria appeared from behind one of the racks and smiled up to Brock.
"Gloria, how the hell did you do that?" Brock asked.
"You're not the only one with special skills my boy." She took a few steps closer and focused in on Brock's prize. She inhaled deeply and shook her head, "Speaking of special skills… Wow wee, I'd love to dip you down into that chocolate, but just up to your waist mind you… and enjoy a big, big chocolate bar." Turning to the women, she winked. "I prefer dark chocolate though."
The two nodded in agreement.
13
The plant shut down for the subsequent investigation and cleaning, but was back up to full production capacity within two weeks. On a well-deserved vacation, Gloria was interviewed on the Today show that morning, and was currently on a plane heading toward Los Angeles for her appearance on the Tonight show. She was also scheduled to meet with her newly acquired hotshot agent who's been fielding offers from major publishers for a seven figure book deal with a working title of, Consider Yourself Enrobed, Bitch! Although the title, Enrobe This, had lately been gaining some traction around the agency.
Brock was sitting behind the desk in his office reviewing sales figures when there was a knock on his open door. Looking up, he discovered Marci standing there and waved her in. "Hey."
She stepped in and smiled. "You have a minute?"
"Sure. How are you doing?"
"Better." She sat down and leaned back in her seat. "Wow."
"Yeah, wow."
"Did you see Gloria's interview?"
"Yeah, she stole the show."
"Matt Lauer didn't stand a chance." She raised her eyebrows.
They shared a chuckle.
"So, what's up?" Brock asked.
"Well, my father decided he's ready to retire. This heart attack was really a wakeup call for him and…" She rolled her eyes and grinned. "…and really for me, as well."
"Does that mean he's going to sell his piece of the business?"
"No, he wants to sell your father just enough to return controlling interest in the company back to your family."
"Really? What's he want for it?" He asked hesitantly.
"A dollar."
He laughed out loud. "No really, what's he—"
"He wants a dollar." She shrugged. "He's pretty grateful that you saved the plant and me and—"
"Gloria did that."
"Gloria may be the one getting all the credit, but I think we all know what you did."
Slumping back in his chair, he smiled. "Thank you. My father will be ecstatic."
"And I wanted to apologize."
&n
bsp; "For what?"
"For being such a colossal bitch."
"No, you were not really, a, um—"
"No I really was." Frowning, she shook her head.
He gave her a halfhearted shrug. "Well, maybe just a tiny little bit."
"Okay, let's go with that," she said and they shared a smile.
"I heard your lunch went well."
"Yes, we both maybe said some things during that whole ordeal we regret. I'm probably a bit guiltier than Stephanie though. But I'm glad we had a chance to work it all out."
He grinned. "So you guys are like BFFs now?"
"Uh, I wouldn't go that far…" She frowned. "I've never been very good at having friends who are girls, but I am working on it."
"That's good."
"I'm also working with a therapist on some… let's call them anger management issues."
He widened his eyes. "Wow, do I see some volunteer work in your future."
"Don’t push it." Smiling, she scoffed.
They shared another smile and after a few seconds of silence she took a deep breath and rose up from her seat. "I'm glad I stopped by."
"Me, too."
She pointed to him. "And as much as I hate to say this... Don't you let Stephanie get away. She's one of the good ones."
"I know she is and you, you'll meet someone. I'm sure of it."
"Thanks. Can I get just one last hug?"
Rising from his chair, he opened his giant arms and she fell into them, resting her head on his massive chest.
14
A few hours later at the best restaurant in town, Brock and Stephanie had just finished a fabulous meal. The waiter appeared with two dishes of beautifully prepared white chocolate mousse. Stephanie's was graced with a two and a half carat princess cut diamond engagement ring.
Not noticing the shimmering rock, she pushed her spoon into the soft silky textured delight and brought it to her lips. Her eyes fluttered closed. "Oh my… this is amazing."
