So I lied. Spies do that.
She looked at me with her head titled. “Is that all?”
“For now.”
She looked down at my chest.
Was I the only one who did that?
“You’re a man of many mysteries, Jake.”
Why do so many women say that?
I smiled back. “Well?”
“Sure, I can do that.”
“Would you be willing to send a message to Sheila Fish saying that?”
She nodded. And smiled as she looked at her menu.
The next question hung in the air. Would I be willing to go to bed with her? I had to give her credit though. She didn’t say it.
We gazed at our menus when the waitress came back with two tall drinks. After I sipped mine, I looked at her.
“We didn’t order doubles.”
Our waitress looked back at me with the most lustful stare I’ve seen in a long, long time.
“It’s on the house.”
I must have stared at her beautiful legs or something because the next thing I heard was from Gancha.
“Jake?”
I turned to her.
“One at a time.”
I closed my mouth and swallowed.
“Sorry. Was it that obvious?”
“Yes.”
Gancha ordered first. “Chateaubriand, red potatoes, green beans.” She looked at me.
“For you, ma’am, or both of you?” asked the waitress.
Gancha pursed her lips. “Yes, damn it! For me!”
I hurried to order. “Make that two, if you will.” I handed my menu to the waitress to distract her. She kept staring at Gancha. Maybe she wondered where Gancha would put all that food.
When we were alone, Gancha said, “I hate it when they ask that.”
Gancha was a big woman. Big for her gender, and from the definition in her arms, I suspect she worked out with weights.
The view this evening was the kind to write home about. Across the room, I could see lights along both sides of the Oreo River. The Ambassador Bridge was lit up with strings of lights, too. That contrasted with the ink black of the river and the distant black as the river spread out to join the Bay of America.
I could see why this Top of the Town restaurant on the roof of the Embassy Suites was so popular.
Gancha spoke. “Why would Sheila ask you to ask me that?”
So she guessed that.
“Good question. I think she’s shy about it herself. I must have let it drop I knew you.”
“Right.” She took a sip of her drink and set it down.
“How’s your daughter?”
“Alena? She’s fine. Anxious to do more research.”
“I read her paper. Very interesting. I had the impression she wanted to suggest more.”
I had to remember this woman had a high IQ. She was half Binger, like me. I took a long draw on my drink while I thought my response over.
“Jake, do you remember the time when we walked on the pier in Santa Monica?”
I nodded.
She added, “The fog, a deep throated horn in the distance, the lights, the sense of being alone in the universe, just the two of us out there?”
I added, “Remember when we petted the goats at the LA Zoo? And dinners at Gargon’s?”
Those were the better times. What she didn’t mention was our many arguments. And the times we talked over our relationship. At the time, I was interested in a more long term living arrangement, but she wanted her freedom. When she became a guest of the state for a few years, I lost track of her. That’s when I met Leanna and got married.
Gancha just couldn’t stay within the law and I was a cop at the time.
What was I to do? Sacrifice my career for her?
“Have you ever stepped outside the law?” she asked.
She had a point. I had killed men and done breaking and entering. By any definition, I was a career criminal. But I never did it for profit. It was part of my job as a spy.
“I see by your hesitation,” she said, “I may have hit on a nerve.”
“That you did.”
“Care to talk about it?” she asked.
I shook my head. “Can’t.”
“We used to tell each other anything.”
“That was then. This is now.”
“We had something then. We still could.”
I could see the hurt in her eyes.
She wiped her eyes with her cloth napkin.
We sat in silence until our orders arrived. Even then we didn’t speak for several minutes.
“Gancha, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about the two of us.”
She nodded her head the barest amount. At least she acknowledged hearing my thoughts.
“I’m going through a rough time right now. Now is not the best time.”
“It never seems to be for you.”
She had a point─again.
“Listen, when this whole VB thing blows over, maybe we can talk again?”
I cut and took a piece of meat in my mouth.
That brought a turn to the corners of her mouth.
“Sure. Can I tag you later?”
I nodded with my mouth full of Chateaubriand.
After our dinner, I walked her back to her car in the basement. Then was the awkward moment. Do I kiss her or not?
I elected not.
“Till later, Gancha.”
She jerked her head up and down a few times.
“Till later.”
She wasn’t happy about that.
When I got back to the ops center, via a trip around Beverly Hills to spot any tails, I went to the kitchen and poured myself a stiff one of Burbock, the only booze we had plenty of. Well, we had some Yarley’s, but I was not sure when we could buy more so I kept those bottles for special occasions.
I put ice in my glass of Burbock and sat at the dining table. Ron sat across from me. “Girl trouble?”
I nodded.
“You know, you’ll never get over the last love until you get a new one.”
“Dated any girls lately?” I asked.
“That’s cruel.”
“You’re right.”
I tipped my glass upward. When I had taken a long drink, I added, “Sorry.”
“Jake, we’ve been through a lot together. Braco. KL Farms.” He leaned forward. “I mean it. You need a new gal.”
I thought over what he’d said. Made sense.
“You’re right.”
“What you could use right now is another black op,” said Ron.
That would do it. The tension of a break and enter job. The danger of getting killed if I made a wrong move. The unexpected that always happened.
I downed the rest of my Burbock.
Chapter 32
The next morning I tagged Sheila.
“I talked with the new owner of Venisio Enterprises. She will guarantee the independence of Channel One’s views.” I didn’t mention having dinner with that owner.
“That’s interesting. How did you do that?”
“For another time, Sheila.”
“You know, you’re building up a heap of curiosity about you.”
“Can’t be helped. Will you publish Poor’s articles?”
“I’d have to see them first.”
“Agreed.”
We disconnected.
I typed an article, printed it, and sent it by Ron to the drop station outside the Channel One building.
That afternoon, I read my article on the site of Channel One. The piece was in the opinion section under “What was in that package?”
The top of the article presented the grayscale photo of Coocher when Getner passed a small package.
“You know me from my interviews on Channel One. First off, let me say this is my personal opinion. It does not represent the views of the management of Channel One.
“Ever wonder what was in that package passed from the hybrid to the guy in the van?
&n
bsp; “First off, what was he doing having a meeting with someone he professed to hate?
“That package was small. Small enough to contain vials of the damned VB virus, wouldn’t you say? I’m not saying it was VB. But it could have been.
“What if that same guy added the contents of those vials to our public water supply?
“By now, we’ve read of the Humans Only organization on Earth being suspected of being a terrorist organization.
“How did the virus get from Earth to Rossa? Some folks claim immigrants brought it. But in the eleven days of one-way travel, someone should have shown symptoms of infection by VB. Since none was reported, we have to consider an alternative source.
“What if HO on Earth has passed VB to the hybrid?
“Makes you kinda wonder, doesn’t it?”
The article was signed, Albert Poors, ex-slave.
Not once did I mention names. That way Channel One could not be sued. Coocher’s face was easily recognized though.
A half hour later, Sheila Fish tagged me with the sound of glee in her voice.
“The article by Poors received the highest number of views of any article on the Channel One website.”
I could hear the happiness in her voice.
“You did it, Jake! You started them thinking.”
After we disconnected, I brought Vincent up to date on this development and thanked him for the idea.
Vincent said, “You’re paying a hefty price. You must love your daughter a lot.”
“Do you love your wife?”
He grinned. “I see what you mean.”
That same day, I got a tag from Gancha.
She started with, “Albert Poors, I presume?”
“Ah, sorry. Wrong number.”
I was about to hang up when she blurted, “Jake!”
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry about the other night. We got off on a wrong foot. Can we try again? Only this time we’ll focus on the positive.”
“I don’t know.”
Silence. That damned dead kind of silence when you wonder who will speak next.
She said, “I still think we have a chance. I have enough money for both of us.”
“I couldn’t be your gigolo.”
Another frickin’ silence.
“Look at it this way. Go anywhere you want. Anywhere. Except the home planet.”
“Gancha, I don’t think you understand. There’s been too much water over the dam since those old times. We’ve both changed.”
Silence.
Then I said the big words. “It’s over. Face it.”
She said nothing.
Heaven knows what was going on in her mind.
“Jake, I’ve changed. I sold all of my grandfather’s empire. Put the cash into investments and even bought a few legit businesses.”
That pregnant silence again.
Damn! Why did I use that word?
“I still think we have a chance,” she said. “It might not be easy but we’re both strong people. We can do it.”
I had to nod at that one, knowing she could not see my gesture. She was right.
“Can I join your team?” she asked.
She’d be quite an asset with her money and her skills. But could I stand having her around?
“That might be possible.”
Finally, she broke the silence with “Can we at least remain friends?”
Why do they always ask that?
“I suppose,” I replied.
Coward.
“Can I buy you a dinner?” she asked. “Salia’s this time?”
A guy has to eat. “Sure.”
Then I realized I was too eager. Her voice was music to my ears.
Damn! What was going on in my mind?
#
I put on a light gray suit, custom-tailored to allow room for my shoulder Snap. Then I picked Gancha up at her new house.
She came to the door wearing a tight red dress with spaghetti straps. Her breasts strained against their bounds. I noticed she wore low-heeled matching shoes and purse.
I drove to Salia’s. With loops, of course, to check on any tails. We didn’t speak much on the way.
I could cut the tension in the air. When we got to the parking lot, I went around to her door and opened it. Once again, she showed her gorgeous legs.
When we got seated, she said to the waitress, “I’ll have a double Yarley’s.”
When the waitress looked at me, I nodded.
While our waitress was getting our drinks, Gancha added, “I sold off all my grandfather’s crime network. I assumed a new identity for the house. My investments are in my real name. Thought it might be better that way.”
After a silence, I said, “This is awkward.”
“It doesn’t have to be,” she replied. “Just act natural.”
She had veal parmesan with spaghetti and broccoli. I had chicken parmesan, rigatoni pasta, and broccoli.
She told me her memories of our romantic times together. I let her do most of the talking.
When our waitress came by, Gancha tapped her empty glass. I looked up at our waitress and nodded.
After we finished our meal and went to my car, I drove her to her new home.
When I got around to her side of the car to open her door, she put her feet on the pavement and showed a lot of gorgeous leg. She stood close to me. Maybe a little too close.
Without saying a word, she put her arms around my neck and gave me a slow kiss.
Oh dear. That magic happened again.
I felt as if I belonged here.
She broke away and opened her eyes. “I think you felt it too.”
She had me there.
I grinned.
She put her arms down.
“Care to come inside? For just a drink. To celebrate what we had.”
I nodded with a grin and followed her into her kitchen.
She opened the glass door to her liquor cabinet and got a tall bottle of Yarley’s. After she poured generous amounts in each glass, she looked in my eyes and raised her glass.
I acknowledged her drink and drank a generous portion of mine.
She placed her glass on the dark marble counter, as I did.
She came up to me and put her arms around my neck.
Naturally we shared a kiss. A damned good one too.
Without saying a word, she pulled the two straps of her dress down her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. Her breasts hung loose and she had on a bright red half-slip. Next, she put her two hands on the top of the slip and let it fall to the floor. She stood there in black garter belt, red bikini panties, black nylons, and red shoes.
She reached up with her arms around my neck and pressed her lips to mine. Those beautiful two mounds of flesh pressed on my chest.
Hormones took over and Junior was more than willing.
I reached down, put my arms around her bare back and red-pantied buttocks, and lifted her.
“Which way?”
She kept her left arm around my neck and pointed with her other hand, with a smile.
Afterward, I lay on her bed.
A guy could get used to this real quick. Maybe I’d better reconsider.
She turned over and looked into my eyes.
We both smiled.
“We can do this as often as you like,” she said.
Chapter 33
The next morning, I showered and when I returned to her bedroom, she lay still with her eyes closed. I picked up my clothes and went into the living room, where I got dressed. Making as little sound as possible, I left her home.
I drove to the ops center and barely got into the kitchen when my comm vibrated. A tag from Gliituk.
“Jake?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s okay. When can she move in?”
Whoa. This guy moved fast.
“I’ll make arrangements.”
“It would be best if she didn’t arrive at front gate,” he added.
“
I agree. Any suggestions?”
“Can she move her belongings to waterfront?” He gave me an address. “After that, she can come by same route you’ve used before.”
After we disconnected, I went into the dorm and sat next to my daughter.
“How are you feeling?”
“Rotten. Bored to death.”
“How would you feel about moving into the mercon embassy?”
She looked at me. “Come again?”
“And you’d have space to set up your lab equipment.”
“You serious?” she asked.
I looked at her without responding.
Her eyes bounced from my left eye to my right.
“Really?” she begged.
I nodded.
Her face lit up. “Wow!” She jumped up and into my lap. She planted a kiss on my cheek and gave me the tightest hug I’d experienced in a long time.
It’s good to be a dad.
Since it was a weekend and the streets might be crowded with people stocking up on food and water, I decided this was an ideal time to move Alena.
When we got to the BIS van, I said, “Chima, can you disguise your outside to have racing stripes in a black background?”
“Consider it done.”
Not her usual “Affirmative.” I saw that Vincent had been busy with her programming.
Ron had on blue jeans and a yellow shirt and drove the van. Alena wore a green pantsuit while we helped her load empty boxes and two of her suitcases.
She sat in the back with me in the passenger’s seat as we went in the van to Dr. Albert’s house.
At the front door, the professor greeted us, wearing a dark gray suit. Guess he must lecture today.
“Is there any way I can convince you to stay, my dear?” he asked as he faced her.
I interjected. “I’m sorry, Dr. Albert. Alena would be at risk of being kidnapped again if she stayed here. We’re taking her to a safer location.”
Alena piped up.
“Professor, I realize how you must feel, but my father is correct.”
“He’s your father?” asked Dr. Albert with wide open eyes.
Alena looked at me. “Yep. And a mighty fine one too.” She looked at her advisor. “I trust him.”
“Well, in that case, come in,” asked the professor. He looked at Ron. “Who’s he?”
“Ron,” I replied, “is a friend who came to help.”
Dr. Albert turned and led us to her room.
Humans Only: A Jake Dani Novel (Jake Dani/Mike Shapeck Book 2) Page 19
