by R Weir
“Who is your source?” questioned Zackery.
There was an evil snicker on the other end. “You’ll know soon enough.”
Zackery looked at Kyle again, wondering if he was the leak. He instinctively reached for his gun, but he wasn’t wearing it, the weapon sitting on the kitchen table where he’d left it after removing his pants for treatment. He continued to gaze at Kyle, trying to read him, when he heard yelling outside.
“What the fuck are you doing back here?” bellowed the voice of Dirk, pausing for a second. “Who the hell are those two men…Hey wait what the fuck are you doing…”
Right after there was gunfire—pop, pop—about six rounds and then silence. Soon the door opened and in walked Valerie, her gun drawn, pointed halfway between the two men, a serious expression filling her face.
“I told that SOB Dirk I was going to get him if he called me Val again,” she explained calmly. “Would have preferred the ball cutting route first, but there’s no time.”
Zackery glared her way, uncertain what was going on. His nerves teetering on the edge of panic knowing he’d been sold out. He heard the voice on the satellite phone asking him to put the call on speakerphone, which he did with a simple keypress.
“I’m assuming Valerie is now present?” asked the voice.
Stunned by the revelation, Zackery replied. “Yes. But how did you…”
“I may be far away, but I have pull even there. Who do you think hooked you up with Valerie in the first place?”
Zackery shook his head, feeling stupid. She’d been an inside person the moment she walked in the door and he should have known it. The woman too skilled to find that easily. The caller must have ordered ‘The Train Man’ to bring her in. He felt stupid for not considering the possibility.
“Care to change your story?” inquired the man via the crackle of the speaker.
“We didn’t have much of an option. I couldn’t risk the kids getting hurt and I was trying to avoid killing at any cost.”
“Zackery I’m disappointed in you. Not only because you failed—again—but because you thought you could lie to me and get away with it. Do you have any idea how frustrating it is to pay all this money for incompetence?”
“What happens now?” wondered Zackery, defeat in his tone.
“I’m certain you know the answer, as you took care of the last two who screwed up.”
“Who takes over now? Will it be you Valerie?”
Valerie grinned. “What do you think? It’s nothing personal. I will do a better job than you did and won’t fail. I already have a plan in the works which will succeed. It will take time, but I won’t go off recklessly and fail like you just did. And I won’t hesitate to kill to get the job done.”
The bullet was coming. Zackery’s mind raced to find anything to forestall the outcome, when it hit him.
“I’m the only one who knows who the person inside the Hawkins inner circle is. You still need me to be the bridge to them to keep on top of what is going on. And I have a message to pass onto you from the Hawkins security team.”
“Really. Is that true Valerie?” queried the voice on the phone.
“He didn’t tell me. What about you Kyle?”
Kyle looked over at Zackery, a sour expression on his face, before staring back at Valerie a glint of joy directed at her.
“I know, but I don’t have the phone number,” declared Kyle, as he grabbed Zackery’s gun from the table and pointed it at him. “But we can get that off his phone.”
Zackery stared at this team member, realizing his earlier hunch had been correct.
“What the hell are you doing Kyle? Are you selling me out, too?”
“Without a doubt. Her tempting offer was more than I could refuse.”
“You weasel,” yelled Zackery, mad at the man he thought was a friend.
At that point the gun in Kyle’s hand went off, shooting Zackery in the chest. There was no vest to protect him this time. The bullet pierced his heart, death arriving instantly.
Kyle came over to check his pulse, then walked over, grabbed Valerie and kissed her passionately. A new partnership formed out of lust.
“It would seem you’re a step closer to that orgasm you’ve longed for,” Valerie whispered in his ear. Words meant to stir his manhood, fueling his double-cross.
***
They had been in town a few days, called in for a possible job, and were waiting to hear on what their next move would be. Kyle was sitting alone sipping a beer at the bar of a restaurant in Old Colorado City, founded during the Pikes Peak Gold Rush of 1859. The town was now a historical district within Colorado Springs. Thunder and Buttons II was the first place he’d seen as he walked up West Colorado Avenue, searching for an establishment to clear his boredom. Above the bar was a flat screen TV, but it had snowmobile racing on, a slow day for sports it would seem. The monster machines being controlled by strong armed men maneuvered around a track in the deep powder on the steep mountainside. Kyle drained the first glass and motioned for another when he felt the presence of a body next to him. He shyly took a glance out the side of his eyes, seeing a pleasant face gazing his way. The woman removed her sunglasses to reveal her hazel eyes.
“Hello,” she said with a deep timber in her voice. “What are you drinking?”
Kyle wasn’t certain how to respond. He wasn’t the most attractive man; he had a long-crooked nose and receding hair grown out on the sides and back to cover his ears which stuck out. He also housed a five o’clock shadow that never went away on his puffy jowls. He was plain in many ways, normally not someone to attract female attention, his relationships had been far and few between, so he was shocked to see this woman talking to him. He was tongue tied, leaving his answer to one word.
“Beer.” His voice cracking like a teenager.
“I’ll have what he is having,” she stated to the bartender.
Kyle glanced at her again, then turned his body slightly to get a better look. She displayed some meat on her, though she looked strong. She had long black hair that flowed over her shoulders. She wore a golden satin blouse, chocolate brown slacks, and worn brown boots whose heel hooked onto the support bar of the wooden chair. Her face had a nice early summer tone to it, the mole on her neck the only imperfection on her otherwise lightly made-up perfect skin.
When her beer arrived, she took a good draw, the suds covering her lips, which she licked off seductively with her tongue.
“Tastes wonderful,” she remarked with a sexy tone. “My name is Valerie.” She ogled him, trying to coax out his name, extending her hand at the same time.
He looked at her fingers, hesitating. “Kyle,” he finally replied, putting his hand in hers, the skin feeling warm and firm.
“How about we go to a booth where we can talk privately,” she said, while standing, putting a hand on his thigh.
Kyle was in heaven by now, this type of thing never happened to him, which made him not only nervous, but concerned. Still what did he have to lose. They were in a public place, it wasn’t like she was going to rob him with people around. He nodded his head and followed her to an open wooden booth against the red brick wall, where he took a seat across from her.
“Kyle, you appear surprised I approached you,” noted Valerie, looking him straight in the eye. “Or are you shy about talking with woman?”
Hoping to calm his nerves and find courage within the mug, Kyle took a long drink of his beer. Opportunities with beautiful woman never came his way. He remained guarded.
“Just being cautious.”
“He speaks more than one word. What are you worried about?”
His eyes stared downward at this beer. “Why a fetching woman like you would be talking to me?”
Valerie shrugged. “You seemed like a nice guy.”
“I don’t have any money.”
“Do you believe I’m going to—rob you?” Valerie’s eye lit up in surprise.
Kyle glanced away, uncertain if he should spell
out what he thought she was.
“Or do you think I’m a pro looking for her next client?”
“It crossed my mind.” His eyes continued to look everywhere but at her.
“Look at me,” she said, waiting until his eyes met hers. “I’m not here for the money and I am not planning on robbing you. I’m only looking for a good time. If you’re interested, we can chat and see where it leads. Who knows it might be your lucky day? If you’d prefer I walk away and leave you alone, then say so.” She reached out her hand, stroking the top of his, stirring his emotions. “But understand you could be turning down a tsunami of sensuality that will never grace your lonely shores again.”
Kyle felt his courage and loins build, as her boot covered foot rubbed the inside of his thigh. She could have been using him, but he wasn’t going to let the opportunity slip through his fingers. He turned his hand over to feel the palm of hers on his.
“I’m open to chatting,” he said, the warmth of her hand griping his. “What would you like to talk about?”
“I have this theory; one I enjoy experimenting with. Do you want to hear it?”
Kyle nodded, his face flush with excitement.
“That a man can’t make a woman orgasm multiple times without him orgasming on his own. What do you think?”
Kyle was intrigued by the idea. “I’m not…sure. I’ve…not…never…thought about it,” he muttered with a stammer.
“Of course not. Men are always more concerned about their pleasure before the woman they’re with.” She reached her other hand out, grasping his and pulled his face forward so their eyes were only inches apart. “I wonder if you can be man enough to bring me pleasure, oh let’s say five times, without cumming yourself. Earn your ejaculation by bringing about my orgasm over and over again. If you claim to be that man, we can walk out of here right now, find a hotel and you can prove to me your worth as a sexual god.”
Kyle’s head was spinning, as she leaned in to kiss him, his excitement out of control. He didn’t care one iota about what her endgame was. He wanted her badly no matter the consequences. He kissed her back, her hands griping him, her boot rubbing at his bulging pants. There was only one answer he could give her.
“I’m that man,” he announced after breaking off the kiss, ready to give his eternal soul to this woman to prove his worth.
***
After being brought into town and doing surveillance on the kidnap team and its men, Valerie had pegged Kyle as being the man she could use. Not only for her own pleasure, but to get him to betray Zackery and allow her to take over the mission. All of this was confirmed by him coldly killing the man who had led them. He was working to earn his own orgasm. An act she’d so far denied him. A release he longed for.
“From what I heard, I’m assuming he’s dead?” inquired the voice on the phone, concerned about the long silence after the gunshot.
“Yes,” answered Valerie. “Our new team is in charge.”
“And what about this information Zackery claimed he needed to pass on?”
“It came from the new leader for the Hawkins security team,” stated Kyle. “Hunter Divine wanted us to tell you that he was in charge and that you might as well pack it in because you’ll never get the kids.”
“Great. Hunter is now involved? Exactly what I was aiming for. Other than not getting the kids, this is all coming together. Now it’s up to you to finish the task. Do what it takes. The gloves are off.”
“Which means we can do whatever is necessary, including killing?” inquired Valerie.
“Other than the kids, the parents and Hunter. Beyond them, do what you need to do.”
Valerie glanced up at Kyle and smiled happily. Removing the restrictions would make her job easier.
“Not going to be an issue,” claimed Valerie. “Like I said, I will take my time, but we will get them, with no more failures.”
“Good. What else do you need from me?”
“Nothing. We’ll take it from here.”
The phone went dead, Kyle gathered it up, along with Zackery’s phone, which he unlocked with his fingerprint. Searching the phone call logs, he sent himself the information on the inside person. He then gathered all the weapons, placing them in a canvas bag. The two of them walked outside to greet the two other men now on the team.
“Kyle meet Travis and Jamaal,” said Valerie, as they all nodded to each other.
“What do we do with these two bodies?” wondered Jamaal about Dirk and Pablo, their bloody lifeless corpses on the ground.
“Drag them inside and then burn down the place,” ordered Valerie. “You can drive the van through the front and burn it as well.”
The two men did as they were told, while Valerie and Kyle sat in the car. They watched until flames engulfed the vehicle and structure. The four of them then drove off to their next destination to begin the newest quest to get their hands on the Hawkins children.
Chapter 16
Monday morning led Hunter on a trip to Denver. Detective Scanlon had run down the tail number on the helicopter, tracing it back to Centennial Airport in Englewood Colorado, a southern suburb of Denver. The pilot of the craft had a sketchy history of transporting cargo not always of a legal nature. With information in hand Scanlon wanted to go as well, Hunter happy to have the company.
Scanlon chose to drive, which Hunter didn’t mind. Scanlon’s unmarked silver Dodge Charger, with siren, would make for quicker travel if they ran into traffic on the always busy Interstate 25. If they ran into a clog of cars the siren could be used to clear a path, with speed being of importance. This was critical work they were doing, and they had serious questions they needed answers for.
The pilot’s name was Chevy McNair, though he was nicknamed Blade. His extensive experience flying single and twin prop planes, small jets and helicopters made him a popular choice for transporting all types of people and cargo. Though at times both weren’t always licit, ignorance his greatest defense. He was hired for a job, he would say, and not worry about what it was. Money was his sole motivator in life and business.
Blade didn’t have a flight until noon today, so Scanlon and Hunter made sure to leave with enough time, allowing them to arrive at the hanger at around 10 a.m. They saw the ACH-135 helicopter on a cart, getting worked on by a mechanic. Scanlon led the way, flashing his badge, surprise on his mug when he saw a woman with amber pixie haircut doing the work, his amorous eyes glancing at Hunter who withheld a laugh. She pulled her head out of the engine, hands greasy, holding a wrench. She didn’t smile when she saw the badge, waving to where McNair would be, in his small office inside the hanger he rented.
“Damn I was caught off guard by her,” declared Scanlon, as they walked towards the direction she pointed.
“Expecting a man to be doing the work?”
“I did. What does that say about me?”
Hunter laughed “Not progressive thinking on your part. Like how you’re now contemplating what she looks like out of those overalls.” Hunter was being glib, though the thought had also crossed his mind for a split second.
“Exactly what I was thinking. I found her cute and even a tad hot—I was hoping she’d work on my motor.” Scanlon glanced over his shoulder hoping to get another view of her.
Hunter grinned. “Thinking like that will get you in trouble these days. You need to stop objectifying the opposite sex.”
Scanlon sighed. “I know. I need to open my mind to possibilities and not be so stuck in my ways. Though it isn’t easy. That was how my father was and it’s hard for a leopard to change his spots.”
Deep inside Hunter had to agree. His spots needed changing too but would have to wait for the job to be completed. An excuse he’d used over and over.
Once inside the hanger the two men spied the office entrance. They walked past a Learjet to get to it, through the door Scanlon went, without knocking, finding McNair sitting at his desk going through paperwork, annoyed at the intrusion.
“A knock
on the door would have been nice,” he grunted with a look of distain.
Scanlon pulled out his badge, flashing it as if he were exempt from etiquette. It was one item Hunter missed most about being a US Marshal. The badge carried a lot of power that would come in handy in this situation.
“Cop I see,” stated McNair. “Do I need to call my lawyer?”
“Not if you answer our questions truthfully,” replied Scanlon while taking a seat.
“Depends on what you’re asking.” McNair had an edge in his tone. “But I do believe it is best to remain silent when dealing with the authorities.”
Hunter walked the room, reading a couple of plaques on the wall, showing where McNair went to school and got his training. Next to those were pictures of several aircraft, with him standing next to them. One appeared to be a Navy fighter jet, going back to the days when he had more hair, was twenty years younger and twenty-five pounds lighter.
“You flew in the Navy?” wondered Hunter while pointing at the picture.
“Yeah. Flew some missions in the Middle East. Mostly support roles, though a few in battle.”
“Gulf War?”
“No. I got out shortly before Hussein invaded Kuwait. Good thing I did, or I might have been barred from leaving otherwise. The Middle East is a political quagmire I was happy to be free of.”
“Is that when you started your business?” inquired Hunter, gathering data.
“Not at first. Did commercial flying for a while—airlines, private businesses. I’ve been running my own shop going on ten years.”
“Including helicopter service for clients?” added Scanlon.
McNair nodded while leaning back in his chair, the end of the pen in his mouth, a nervous habit he enjoyed. His mind uncertain where all this questioning was headed but knew it wouldn’t be good.
“Cash money paid with no details required, just the where and the when.” Scanlon was fishing for a reaction.
McNair sighed. “Where is this headed detective?”
Scanlon ignored the question. “Including early yesterday morning in Colorado Springs?”
