He pointed at me. "Bingo, baby."
I chuckled. "Are you trying to tell me this gun has unlimited ammo? That it never has to be reloaded?"
"Never, ever. It keeps going and going. Like the Eveready bunny, only way more dangerous."
"That's impossible."
"I know. Yet you're holding it in your hand. You just fired it. And as you already know, there's no clip. So you tell me, where'd the bullets come from?"
I turned the gun in my hand again, this time slowly. He was right, there was no magazine or any other opening that could receive rounds. Staring at the mysterious weapon was making my head hurt. I said to Wendell, "So I can just keep pulling the trigger and it will keep firing?"
"There's a five-second delay after every twenty rounds, but pretty much. It's called an infinity gun. Cool name, right?"
"If it does what you say. Hell yeah."
Wendell gestured to the target.
I raised the gun and fired twelve more rounds. That plus the four I fired earlier easily exceeded the ten round capacity of a standard magazine. I also noticed that after firing so many shots in quick succession the gun wasn't even warm.
"It's like magic," I said to Wendell. "How does it work."
Wendell shrugged. "Might as well be magic because I have no fucking idea. The techs tried to explain it to me, but that shit was way over my head."
"Does it fire bullets?"
"Like I said, kind of. Not normal bullets, that's for sure. Anyway, who cares? There's something else you need to know. The gun's imprinted to you, and please don't ask me how. If anyone else tries to fire it, it jams. Watch." Wendell took the gun from me, aimed, and pulled the trigger several times. Nothing happened. "You see. That's in case you lose it, but don't." He slapped the infinity gun back into my palm. "According to Farris, it's beyond top secret."
"No shit," I said, once again gaping at the amazing weapon.
"Oh yeah," Wendell said. "Farris says your CIA chaperone is cleared for proto-tech, so you can tell her about the gun if you want."
"CIA chaperone? Your words of Farris's?"
"Mine. Agent Wong's pretty damn hot," Wendell said. "What's she like in bed?"
I looked at him sideways. "What makes you think I'd know?"
Wendell laughed. "Come on. I can see the energy between you two. It's obvious."
I laughed. "That's funny. Agent Wong said we had to sleep together so that we'd seem like a real couple. I guess she was right."
Wendell pumped his fist. "I knew it. You did hit that. Damn, I hate you."
"Didn't you hear what I said? I did it for the job."
"Yeah, right."
We shared a laugh, then Wendell explained he needed to remain behind in the van to complete some prep work. As I returned the infinity gun to its case, I asked Wendell, "Did Reba say anything to you about knowing Agent Wong?"
Wendell shook his head. "No. Why?"
"I don't know. It's the way they look at each other. Like there's some kind of connection."
Wendell shrugged. "It's probably an HBC thing."
"A what?"
"HBC. Hot babe connection. You never heard of it?"
"You just made that up."
"Listen. Most hot women are into other hot women. Google that shit. It's a fact." He laughed. "Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if Wong and Reba were up there right now dining at the Y." He underscored the lude comment by lasciviously licking between his pointer and middle fingers.
I couldn't help laughing. "You are seriously crazy."
He shrugged. "You're right. I'm probably way off. But do me a favor. When you get back upstairs, if you walk in on some steamy girl-on-girl action, at the very least grab some video."
A FEW MINUTES LATER, gun case in hand, I let myself into the penthouse suite. Two abandoned half-empty wine glasses greeted me. Reba and Agent Wong were nowhere to be seen.
"Hello?"
Moving into the center of the living room, I froze when I heard female moans and gasps of ecstasy coming from behind the closed master bedroom door.
"No fucking way," I muttered to myself.
CHAPTER FORTY
Careful not to make a sound, I slowly cracked open the master bedroom door and peeked inside. What I saw caused me to become instantly aroused.
Agent Wong's face was buried deep between Reba's thighs. Reba squirmed and moaned and clawed the sheets as the CIA agent dutifully carried out her secret mission.
I knew I wasn't crazy. Earlier, Reba and Agent Wong were indeed exchanging glances. Only, it wasn't because they were hiding a past connection. It was because the two beautiful women had made a secret new connection. And judging by the wild, hungry passion I was now witnessing, it must've been lust at first sight. As crazy as it seemed, maybe there was a bit of truth to Wendell's HBC nonsense.
My first instinct was to shut the door and let them have their privacy, but the sight of their sweaty, quivering, intertwined bodies was mesmerizing. It was like watching the best porn flick ever. There was also the fact that I was so rock hard that it was painful. I decided to stand there and watch quietly because, honestly, I couldn't tear my eyes away.
After a few more feverish minutes Reba threw back her head, arched her back, and unleashed a loud gasping moan. Panting, she reached down, lifted Agent Wong's head and said, "My turn."
I licked my lips, eager for more action, as the two women began to swap positions. But when I saw Agent Wong freeze, I stopped breathing. She was staring across the room, directly at me.
Chuckling, she pointed at me and said to Reba, "looks like we have an audience."
Reba gasped playfully and shook her head at me. "Mathew, how could you?"
"Sorry," I said. "I walked in the penthouse, heard all this moaning and groaning and wanted to see what was going on."
"Oh, Really?" Agent Wong said. "So now that you see what are you going to do about it?"
"Do about it?"
Agent Wong rolled her eyes. "Do I need to mail you an invitation? Come play with us." She nodded to the bulge in my pants. "Clearly you want to."
I didn't think it was possible, but my cock got even harder. Remembering my hands-off agreement with Reba, I turned to her to gauge her reaction to Agent Wong's proposal. My heart sank when I saw her frown. Reba said to Agent Wong, "That does sound like fun, but Mathew and I have an understanding. No hanky panky."
Agent Wong shrugged. "That's fine. That just means more fun for me." Agent Wong turned to me. "Hands off Reba. That's the rule. Got it?"
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. It was surreal and incredibly hot at the same time. Finally, I replied, "Absolutely. I'm game if Reba's game."
Reba pinned me with narrowed eyes. "Are you sure you'll be able to control yourself?"
I laughed. "Hell no. But if I break the rules you two can always kick me out of bed, right?"
Agent Wong and Reba exchanged wicked smiles, then Reba said to me, "Well come on already."
I never undressed so fast in my life. One second I was standing in the bedroom doorway, and the next I was entangled in the oddest menage a trois ever. Agent Wong, Reba, and I performed every combination of squeezing, sucking, and fucking we could imagine that didn't violate our unusual rule. And Agent Wong was right, she did receive the majority of attention. Reba and I worked well together, simultaneously licking and pounding the CIA agent into screaming ecstasy. Several times, with Reba's nakedness so tantalizingly close, I found myself battling the urge to reach out and simply touch her. Once I caught Reba watching me and she seemed to be enjoying my lustful agony. The truth was, in a way, I enjoyed it as well. Having forbidden fruit within reach without being able to take a bite was wonderfully mouthwatering.
The fun went on for a few hours, with breaks for hydration and snacks. Finally, at about 4 AM, we forced ourselves to stop so we'd be well rested for the following day's mission. Reba hugged and kissed us both then returned to her room, leaving Agent Wong and I alone in the damp, tangled bed.
&n
bsp; As I sank deeper and deeper into an exhausted sleep, I whispered groggily to Agent Wong, "Ready for tomorrow?"
I'm don't know if she ever answered.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Agent Wong and I pulled up to the main gate of Banks's villa promptly at 7 pm. I wheeled the Bugatti Divo into a line of exotic cars and stretch limousines waiting to be inspected by a small team of armed security guards.
Beyond the towering wrought iron gate, I could see a steep road snaking up to the clifftop mansion that overlooked the Mediterranean. The ultramodern marble and glass structure, bathed by soft spotlights, loomed over the surrounding wooded acreage like a massive rectangular cloud. Directly above the villa's rooftop, a full moon loitered low in the sky as if also waiting to be admitted to Banks's party.
Several minutes later, after clearing security, and winding up the hillside, I wheeled the Bugatti around a large circular driveway centered by a bronze fountain. The instant I braked outside the villa's entrance, two uniformed valets snatched open our doors. Instead of climbing out I told the nearest valet I preferred to park the vehicle myself. With a thick French accent, the polite young man said he understood and directed me to a nearby space. Unlike the previous night, my insistence on keeping the key had nothing to do with the valet's age or competence. Agent Wong and I decided earlier it was best to have the option of making a quick escape.
Once parked, I jumped out and offered Agent Wong my hand as she rose from the low slung car. She wore a long off-the-shoulder black dress with a hip-high side split that played peek-a-boo with her spectacular legs. I was dressed in a classic black tux, sans a tie, and a vintage pair of black and gold high-top Jordans.
Holding hands, we joined a line of stylish party guests inching towards the entrance. At the door, each guest had to pass through a metal detector before surrendering their gold key to a greeter. Beyond the door, bouncy jazz music and boisterous chatter teased the festivities awaiting us inside.
Suddenly Wendell's voice was in my right ear. "Wow, you guys look snazzy." Startled, I turned expecting to see him, then remembered the device he'd inserted in my ear canal just a few hours earlier.
"Sorry bro," Wendell's voice said with a chuckle. "Didn't mean to spook you."
Agent Wong, also wearing an ear-worm and able to hear Wendell's voice, smiled at me and whispered, "Weird right? Don't worry. Takes a little getting used to."
Next, Reba's voice was in my head. "I'm here too," she said. "We're watching you through the exterior security cameras."
Without being obvious, Agent Wong and I scanned the area. I spotted five small dome-shaped cameras, including one directly over the front door.
Wendell's voice returned. "We're tapped into Banks's entire system and good to go. FYI, the interior is crawling with armed thick-necks."
"He's right," Reba's said. "Searching this place won't be easy. The good news is there are over a hundred guests. If you do manage to slip away, it should be a while before you're missed."
"Hey, that's something," I whispered just loud enough for the earworm to pick up.
"Pardon me, sir. What did you say?"
I looked up and a uniformed greeter was staring directly at me. Before I could respond, Agent Wong jumped in.
"He said, this place is really something."
"Ah, yes." The greeter smiled. "How is it you American's say? Nothing have you seen yet." Then he extended his palm. "May I have your key please."
I fished it out of my breast pocket and handed it over.
The greeter glanced at the key, dropped it into an ornate wooden box, then with a gracious gesture towards the open door said, "Enjoy the party."
Moments later Agent Wong and I were wading through a crowd of beautiful people. Everyone drinking, eating, puffing, snorting, and frolicking beneath a cloud of cigarette and cannabis smoke. Glances of recognition and pointing fingers followed in my wake as Agent Wong and I crossed to one of several open bars. To keep things quick and simple I ordered us matching vodka martinis. Nursing our drinks we took in the scene more carefully. The number of recognizable actors and musicians in the crowd was astonishing. The celebrity headcount at my party was nothing in comparison. Even more surprising were the politicians and heads of state. Politics bored me, so no way I'd know their names, but I did spot several faces seen frequently beneath headlines and on the nightly news. And Wendell and Reba were right about the level of security. Black-suited guards were posted beside every doorway, while others slowly roamed the party's periphery like watchful phantoms.
After a sip of my martini, I whispered to Agent Wong, "I count an even dozen guards. You?"
"Same."
Wendell's voice filled my head. "Actually, there are thirteen. One's taking a piss. Also, there's another ten outside patrolling the grounds. That's twenty-three in all."
I said to Agent Wong, "Twenty three guards for a party? Banks must be paranoid."
"Can you blame him," she said, gesturing with her glass to the crowd. "Is there anyone here you don't recognize?"
I shook my head. "Not many."
She scanned the crowd with narrowed eyes. "The one person I haven't seen is our host."
Agent Wong was right. Banks was nowhere to be seen, but I assumed he'd want to make a flashy entrance so I thought nothing of his absence.
Wendell's voice returned. "We can't see Banks either, which means he's probably in his bedroom. That's the only room in the house without cameras."
Agent Wong said, "I hope he's not pulling that asshole move of blowing-off his own party. We need Banks for our plan to work."
Now Reba's voice filled our ears. "Not necessarily. What's key to the distraction working is targeting someone the entire crowd cares about. That house is full of movers and shakers. I'm sure we can find another suitable target."
"Maybe," Agent Wong said. She turned to me, "Who do you think we should pick?"
As I searched the crush for familiar faces, a chill rippled down my spine. Our plan was simple. It cleverly relied on Banks's pretentious habit of kissing the hand of every woman he met. The back of Agent Wong's hand was coated with a potent neural toxin. Fifteen minutes after Banks kisses it he'll experience symptoms indistinguishable from a heart attack. While everyone rushes to the host's aide, I'd simply slip away unnoticed. But, now, surrounded by a small army of armed guards, one thing was disturbingly clear.
"Matt," Agent Wong said, "You okay?"
I shook my head. "It won't work."
"What won't work?"
"Our plan, it's no good. Banks is just one man. No chance every guard in the room will rush to help. Some will hang back, if only to stay out of the way. If even one guard isn't focused on Banks, we're done. We need a bigger distraction. Something guaranteed to preoccupy every single guard."
"But what?" Wendell said. "Short of setting the joint on fire, what can we do?"
Reba said, "Mathew, the truth is we don't have the authority to go off script. This plan's approved by Farris. Either we go through with it or we abort."
Agent Wong stared at me as if she didn't recognize me. "What's wrong? Don't tell me you're getting cold feet."
"No, it's not that."
"Matt, if you're not up to this you better speak up now. Like Reba said, we can abort."
"Listen. All I'm saying is that we need to come up with--" I was interrupted by a sharp slap on the shoulder.
"Mathew. Finally we meet."
A tall, broad-shouldered man in a perfect white tuxedo loomed over me. He had a bushy beard like a Norse god and a smile like the devil. It took me a moment to recognize him, but when I did my stomach went hollow.
He extended a huge hand and said in a deep, booming voice, "I'm Rex Sinclair, but if you like just call me uncle."
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Rex laughed as I stood there staring at his extended hand. "I don't know what you've been told, Kid, but I don't bite."
Remembering Farris's orders to play nice with my uncle, I hesitantly shook Rex
's hand. Even before our handshake was complete, his eyes had shifted to Agent Wong, blatantly eyeballing her like a piece of meat. "And who's this lovely young woman?" he asked.
"Emily's my date."
"Ah, Emily." He savored every syllable as if tasting fine wine. He gave a little bow of the head. "It's truly a pleasure to meet you."
Agent Wong manifested a flattered smile that appeared genuine. "Nice to meet you as well."
"Perhaps I can take a stab at seducing you away from my nephew later, but right now I need to speak to him alone. Do you mind if I borrow him for a moment?"
Agent Wong shrugged. "Not at all, but of course that's up to Mathew."
I said to Rex, "Borrow me for what?"
"Just a small chat. There's an amazing patio out back where we can have more privacy. Just five minutes. Please."
I was pretty sure Farris was right about Rex not trying anything in front of witnesses, so I was about to agree to follow him when Wendell's voice filled my ear. "Matt, just so you know, Rex has a shadow. That goon behind him, leaning on the pillar.
I easily spotted the man. Goon was right; he was even bigger than Rex. He wore a black leather jacket, gripped a beer in one hand, and did a poor job of blending in with the other guests.
"Come, come, Mathew," Rex said. "You can spare five minutes for your uncle, can't you?"
"Sure," I replied. "As long as your date stays here as well." I nodded towards Leather Jacket.
Rex smiled, impressed by my observation skills. He signaled for Leather Jacket to stay put, then turned back to me with his hands spread innocently. "Shall we go?"
REX WAS RIGHT, the back patio was amazing. A lighted garden path led past the pool to a crumbling stone wall at the edge of a high cliff. Beyond the wall, the moonlit Mediterranean sea stretched away beneath a dome of stars. The crashing roar of waves against rocks two hundred feet below easily drowned out the party music.
Most guests were inside, but a few couples milled about the patio, so I wasn't overly concerned about standing at the cliff wall beside my infamous uncle. In fact, I suspected he brought me to the wall to make me feel anxious.
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