“Just a bunch of women who are PMSing, is that what you said?” Kathryn demanded in a voice so dangerous sounding Conlon turned bone white. “Do you by any chance remember what happened to the national security advisor? He’s sort of, kind of, a vegetable. Well, almost. His wife that he beat senseless has to feed him and change his diaper. Well, she does that sometimes. Most of the time she forgets. The man drools.”
Conlon started to babble. “He came to me! I didn’t seek him out. I don’t even like the bastard. Please don’t hurt me.”
“Well, that sure doesn’t say much for you, Mr. Conlon. You betrayed Pearl’s trust in you for money. You have to pay for that.”
“For God’s sake, I don’t have any money. Money is the reason I’m sitting here right now. I have a gambling problem and I admit it. But he,” Conlon said, jerking his head in Hughes’s direction, “has a big gambling problem. I never laid a hand on Pearl. I love her. That guy Woodley, he got what he deserved for harming his wife. I tried to get out from under but the son of a bitch wouldn’t let me. He said his people, that’s what he said, his people, would take care of me. He scared the crap out of me. Look, let me go and I’ll make it up to Pearl. I’ll explain the whole thing. She’s a kind woman, she’ll forgive me once she understands.”
As one the women hooted with laughter.
“Pearl is the reason you’re here,” Nikki told him. “She’s the one who contacted us. She knows all about your visit to your brother-in-law, you know, the one who is the new director of the FBI. She wants us to take you both out,” Nikki said in a voice so low the men had to strain to hear her. “No holds barred.”
Conlon’s hand flapped in the air. He tried to get his mouth to work but couldn’t quite get the words out. “What…What are you…What are you going to do to us?”
“Depends on your buddy here. If you know the names, now would be a good time to spit them out,” Nikki said.
“Oh, Jesus, I don’t know. He just said they were paying him millions. I think there are two of them, partners in some business. That’s all I know. I swear it.”
“Shut the hell up, Conlon. You don’t know what you’re talking about. You can’t prove a thing,” Hughes sneered.
Annie approached the two men. She loved the feel of the gun on her hip. She flipped it out and almost dropped it. She’d forgotten how heavy it was. “I’m not very good at this. I wish it wasn’t so heavy. My hand shakes when I hold it. Oh, that’s right, the left hand is supposed to cup the right hand. Well, shoot, it’s still heavy. Don’t worry, I might not hit your heart but I’ll hit something. Give us the names. Now!”
“Screw you!”
Nikki looked down at her watch. “We don’t have time for this bullshit. Strip! Now! Both of you! What? You’re shy! Girls, help them out here. No need to be gentle. Myra, get the camera ready.”
“It’s ready, dear.”
Kathryn and Isabelle jerked both men to their feet. “Take them off or we’ll burn them off. Now!” Kathryn bellowed. She almost burst out laughing when she noticed out of the corner of her eye that Yoko was doing high-flying pirouettes in the far corner of the room. From time to time her tiny fists shot outward as she screamed something that sounded like “Eyow!”
Conlon was shaking so badly he could barely open the buttons on his shirt. Myra leaned forward and ripped it loose. Hughes glared at them defiantly.
Yoko stepped forward, did a little dance backward, the air moving before she stepped forward, her foot shooting out, striking Hughes in the throat. “The next time, I’ll crush your windpipe.”
Tears rolled down the man’s face.
“The names please. Gambler that you are, I’m sure you know there’s a time to hold and a time to fold. This is definitely a time to fold in my opinion,” Kathryn said.
“Will you give them the damn names already?” Conlon whimpered. “I saw pictures of Woodley. It was the talk of this town for months. I know what these women can do.”
“If I give you the names, what do I get out of it?” Hughes asked.
Annie advanced a step, stuck the wavering gun in his chest and said, “You get to live.”
Kathryn and Isabelle were busy ripping at Hughes’s clothes. Conlon was naked and sitting on the sofa, his hands covering his private parts. He was crying at his humiliation. The women ignored him, their sights on Hughes.
Kathryn held up a pair of silk skivvies that were so minuscule the women went into fits of laughter. “Kind of fits what it was covering. You know, s-m-a-l-l!”
“Bitch!” Hughes seethed.
“The names. This is the last time I’m going to ask you,” Kathryn said, waving her nightstick wildly.
“All right! Two lawyers contacted me. I don’t think their clients know what they’re doing. That’s just my opinion. I don’t know who they are. They promised me a lot of money but I haven’t seen a penny of it yet. They said they have offices on Connecticut Avenue. There, I told you all I know. Can we go now? I think you broke my kneecaps. Please,” he whined, “I’m in a lot of pain.”
“You aren’t going anywhere, you piece of crap. I told you, I want names. A man like you, well, you would have checked them out someway, somehow. You aren’t going anywhere either, Conlon. Your life as you knew it no longer exists. Now, shut up and sit there and don’t say another word unless you’re prepared to give me names,” Kathryn said.
Nikki moved then to the box with the big red letters. She ripped at the tape, opened the sides and looked inside. The women started to laugh. The two men on the sofa squirmed.
“Last chance,” Kathryn said, pulling on a pair of latex gloves. She gave an extra pull so that they snapped against her wrists.
“I told you, I don’t know their names.”
“Liar, liar pants on fire. Ooops, that so doesn’t work because you aren’t wearing pants. Okay, stand up, bend over and assume the position. I sure hope those guys who promised you all that money find out how loyal you are to them.”
Conlon started to squeal and whine when he saw the other women pulling on latex gloves.
“I thought I told you to get up and assume the position.”
The two men dug themselves deeper into the sofa. Annie and Isabel pulled a protesting Conlon to his feet. Myra and Kathryn pulled Hughes to his feet.
“This might be a good time to show these two fine gentlemen what’s in that box, Nikki.”
“My pleasure,” Nikki said. All eyes were on her as she rooted through the box, finally pulling out two long sticks. She stuck two more in each of her pockets.
It was all Kathryn could do to keep a straight face. “Dynamite, boys. We’re going to stick it up your ass and light the fuse. Not to worry, we coated them with Vaseline. Now, assume the position! That’s a goddamn order!” she screamed to show she was finally out of patience.
Conlon slipped to the floor in a dead faint as Kathryn approached Hughes with the firecracker that looked exactly like a stick of dynamite, with a long red fuse. “Spread those cheeks, dude.” She turned to the others and said, “Oooh, I so don’t want to do this!”
“Oh, it will be such fun. Get Conlon on his feet. We don’t want him missing a minute of this,” Nikki said as she handed another firecracker to Annie, who looked so gleeful, Hughes lost his water. Myra had the camera posed and ready.
“No, no, no, you’re clenching your cheeks.” Kathryn eyed Hughes’s rectum, fixing it in her mind as she squeezed her eyes shut and jammed the firecracker as far up his butt as she could. “I think someone else should light the fuse. I had my fun. You all deserve to have some fun now.”
The front door burst open and Jack and Bert Navarro arrived in the living room just as Kathryn ripped off the latex gloves.
Navarro’s eyes almost popped out of his head. Jack turned around and walked back out the front door. Navarro ran behind him.
“Wusses,” Yoko giggled. “Your turn, Annie.”
An evil look on her face, Annie jammed her firecracker into Conlon and then ste
pped back. “Okay, who wants to light the fuses?”
Nikki, Yoko and Isabelle volunteered.
“Draw straws,” Myra said.
“Oh, sweet Jesus, don’t do this. If I knew who it was, I’d tell you but Hughes never told me. He knows. I know he knows,” Conlon cried.
“Is that true?” Nikki asked as she pulled a box of long fireplace matches out of the cardboard box. “We’re going to light these fuses on the count of three. Think of the reconstructive surgery. You could end up a eunuch if the blast doesn’t kill you.”
“For Christ’s sake, will you tell her the name, you turd!” Conlon screamed as Nikki approached with the long matches and a bright red lighter.
Sweat rolled down Hughes’s face. He was terrified. “All right, all right! I told you the truth, two lawyers came to see me. They have an office on Connecticut Avenue. They never told me who their clients were but it’s some big case that went to the Supreme Court. Huge guys, brothers. They’re big on class action suits. McGregor and McGregor. Attorneys to just about every politician in the city. Now, take that damn thing out of my ass.”
“Shut up,” Nikki snarled as she snapped a set of flexi cuffs on each man’s wrists and another set on their feet. “Don’t move! If you expel that stick, I’ll shove it up to your tonsils, so use some control,” she ordered.
A nanosecond later Myra was on the phone to Charles. When she hung up she motioned for the others to follow her to the kitchen. All eyes went to the clock on the stove. “Charles said he’d have the men here in thirty minutes.”
“What if they’re in court?” Nikki asked.
Myra shrugged. “When the FBI goes after someone they can go into court and do a snatch. At least that’s what Charles said. If he said they’ll be here in thirty minutes, they will be here in thirty minutes.”
“Then what?”
“Then we leave, but first we have to torment them a little. Hey, what would you think if you saw someone with a stick of dynamite up his ass? I think they might talk and tell the boys everything they want to know. At that point, it’s their show. We’re almost out of time, ladies.”
“Aren’t we going to light the fuses?” Annie asked. “I want to see the shower of confetti when the fuse burns down.”
“I’m afraid we’re going to miss that, dear,” Myra said. “You need to put that gun away, you’re making me nervous.”
“Myra, I think you should call Pearl so she can get back to her…uh…vocation. I’m sure she’s a nervous wreck,” Nikki said.
“What’s going to happen to those guys?” Kathryn asked.
“This is just a guess on my part, but I think they might all be on the same flight back to Africa with the G-String Girls. Never to be seen or heard from again.”
“That’ll work,” the women said in unison.
All eyes went to the clock on the stove. If Charles’s promise was to be kept they had one minute to go.
The front door opened. Jack called out, “Company!”
“Well, our work here is done,” Annie said.
The women donned their visored caps, saluted one another and one by one they left by the kitchen door.
Nikki looked back once and thought she saw Jack at the kitchen door. She waved as tears gathered in her eyes. Then she waved again.
Chapter 21
Charles Martin stood at his computer, scanning the emails as they blitzed through the printers. He raised his eyes once to stare at the bank of clocks that told him the time the world over.
For hours now he’d been in touch with fellow retired operatives who were only too glad to offer up their expertise and get back into the clandestine world where Charles still operated. In the end he’d had to place a second call to his friend on the other side of the pond to pull it all together. At the moment the ground he was standing on was a little less shaky, and that was a good thing.
Now, with things stabilized for the moment, he had to concentrate all his efforts on getting the Sisters safely to this mountain in North Carolina. He let his mind wander for a brief second to Myra and her last phone call. He didn’t want to dwell on her whispered threats because he knew she meant every word and yet he couldn’t seem to concentrate, the words hanging over his head like a sword. He could feel his insides curdling at her strong language, something Myra had never before resorted to. In all fairness, was it his fault that the German authorities were holding the real G-String Girls hostage for their handlers’ peccadilloes? No, it was not, but Myra didn’t want to hear that.
At least the real G-String girls were in the air now. The best he could hope for was that they would have good tailwinds and would arrive sooner rather than later. The curdling in his stomach increased, making him aware of the seriousness of what was going on.
“Stop fretting, Daddy. Mom is busting your chops. She’s having the time of her life!”
Charles whirled around. “Barbara!” He felt so light-headed he had to lean against the shelf holding his computer. This was only the third time his daughter’s spirit had come to him. He wondered if he was dreaming. He pinched himself.
“It’s me. You need to stop worrying. Germany was beyond your control. What’s happening in Washington is way beyond your control, too. The Sisters will make it come out right. You do trust them, don’t you? Jack will make it come out right.”
“What a silly question, darling child. Of course I trust them. It’s the variables I don’t trust. Murphy’s Law, you know. I also know your mother never says anything she doesn’t mean.”
A chill washed over Charles when he heard the tinkling laugh he loved and remembered so well. He was still new to talking to a spirit and wasn’t sure what he should say or do. “Are…Are you okay? Have you…uh…talked to your mother?”
“I did. Right now she’s a little busy but she’s fine but worried about you. Are there any problems with getting them to the mountain?”
“So far, so good. But again, things can go wrong at the last second. I hate to admit it, but my stomach is tied up in knots. That concert is making me bloody crazy. I’m not sure my girls can pull it off.”
Charles heard the tinkling laugh again. “Not to worry, they can pull it off.”
The encrypted phone in Charles’s pocket chirped to life. He didn’t want to answer it but knew he had to. He wanted nothing more than to stand here and talk to his darling daughter.
“Take the call, Daddy. I’ll be back.”
A second later Charles felt a whisper of warm air on his cheek. He touched the spot and it felt warm and tingly. He had to shake himself back to reality when the special cell chirped again. The sound was alarming for some reason.
“Charles, Jack here. A monster problem just presented itself and I don’t know if a phone call can take care of it.”
Ted Robinson opened his eyes and knew instantly that he was alone in the semidarkness. Where the hell was he? Within seconds he remembered what had happened to him. He tried to move but whatever was tying him down had little slack. He wiggled his toes and fingers. At least he had feeling. Was he in Wong’s dojo? He sniffed the air. He smelled sour sweat (probably his own), disinfectant and something that smelled like cedar. Maybe cedar chips were in the green plants outside, wherever the hell outside was. Yeah, yeah, he was probably in the dojo. Where the hell was everyone? It was way too quiet. Were the classes cancelled? Was the building empty? He thought about calling out but decided it was a bad idea.
What time was it? Was it day or night? How long had he been here? He struggled to see the watch on his wrist but the way his arms were trussed up, it was impossible. He took a deep breath and rolled over. The smell on the floor was so terrible he gagged. He rolled over onto his back and lay quiet, his mind racing. If there was a way to get to the key chain in his pocket he might be able to work the little pocket knife that Maggie had given him. Was it still in his pocket? There was no way to tell because he really couldn’t feel the chain pressing into his leg. At the time he’d thought it a useless gift, but Ma
ggie had seemed so pleased with her little gift he’d made a big deal out of it and hooked it onto his key chain. His eyes burned when he remembered how she’d kissed him when he’d thanked her. Maggie was big on giving little gifts, most of them useless, more whimsical than anything else. Maggie was a giver.
His hands groped and searched, but he couldn’t work either of his bound hands into the pocket of his jeans. He tried rolling on his side and bringing his knees up, hoping if the key chain was in his pocket, the movement of his legs might push it upward. He thought he felt something press against the outside of his upper thigh. He wiggled and squirmed. Maybe if he could find a way to stand on his head the chain would fall out.
Never athletically inclined, Ted struggled to get on his knees and then on his head. Three tries left him exhausted as he vented, making up curses as he went along. Plus, he was making noise but so far no one had come to check on him. When his breathing was more or less normal, he tried again. And again. And then again. Right before he collapsed he thought he heard the tinkle of the key chain hitting the floor. His breathing was so shallow he thought he was going to black out.
Ted tried to calm himself by thinking of Maggie. She was the athletic one. She ran, she jogged regularly, and she worked out three or four times a week. She also did yoga from time to time. He’d always marveled at how she could literally twist herself into a pretzel. Now, he wished he’d joined her in her quest to keep her body in shape.
He grappled with his arms and face, hoping to come in contact with the key that opened the door to his apartment. He rolled over and over, his face and tied hands searching the hard floor. He moved slowly, back and forth, then slid his bound body up and down. For all he knew he might be lying on the damn thing. Then he felt something under his cheek. He almost whooped for joy but the pain in his face and hands that he knew were rubbed raw made him suck in his breath instead. He smashed his cheek into the floor so that the key chain wouldn’t move. If, indeed, it was the key chain. That was when he realized his hands were numb and tingly. He cursed under his breath as he tried to flex his fingers to bring back some semblance of feeling.
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