White Heat Beast

by Steven Jennings

  Later that same night, several Army Generals arrived at camp, and met with Bird and I. They sat down with Bird and began discussing a rescue operation that would take place in Los Angeles California.

  Apparently several operatives from an unidentified terrorist organization were staying in a Hotel in Culver City, Los Angeles. According to my report, the operatives kidnapped a 78 year old retired military scientist who had knowledge of the necessary components required to create portable nuclear devices. They had been under surveillance for quite some time, but they dropped below radar, only to resurface again in this hotel three days prior to my last day of training. So this is why my training ended so abruptly, it was time for me to be put into action. My orders were to check into the hotel, kill all involved operatives, grab the scientist and destroy the entire hotel.

  I couldn’t understand why I had to destroy the hotel, but apparently it was very important, almost as important as the mission itself. Within 48 days I was flown to LAX airport, where an unmarked vehicle met me and took me to the Eastlane Hotel in Culver City.

  I was given a Duffle Bag full of weapons and explosives, a suitcase full of information about my mission and a gym bag full of clothes by the driver. The guy driving the car was silent and cold, almost like a CIA agent is portrayed on television. He was white, with pale skin, dark shades, slicked back hair and a black suit.

  One strange thing was that I noticed he was wearing a Rolex, which I would consider out of the budget of a driver. He also had manicured fingernails, and a huge skull shaped diamond pinky ring, which was also strange for a guy who should have been making about 30 grand a year. As we pulled up to the hotel he turned to me gave me a key and said,

  “You’re room is already paid for, and you only have

  48 hours to complete this. If it doesn’t get done, you will be killed.”

  I replied, “What’s that supposed to mean?” He turned back toward the wheel and stared ahead, motionless and quite. I exited the car, with one shoulder bag and quickly glanced over the hotel.

  It was an old brown building, with chipped paint over nearly every inch. The sidewalk in front of the building was dirty, and even appeared to have dried blood stains on it. As I walked up the short staircase, I could clearly see how dirty the windows on the front door were. I peered into the lobby before opening the door. The carpet was filthy, with several couches arranged around an old coffee table. Against one wall was an old soda machine, and past that was a dark hallway.

  I cautiously walked in, but before clearing the threshold, I turned around and was shocked to see the car was already gone, with my bags sitting on the curb. I was somewhat baffled by this, since I didn’t hear the engine accelerate as the driver was leaving.

  He must have slowly coasted away in neutral. So I entered the building, took a quick look at the floor plan, which was taped to the wall on my left. I wanted to make sure I knew how to get out of this place if something crazy happened.

  Then I turned away and passed the soda machine, heading down a dim lit hallway. The smell of marijuana, rotten food and candles were very distinguishable. The carpet smoldered with the stench of mold on top of urine. The sound of people fucking crept from every dark corner of the hall. Several hallways intersected my pathway toward my room, each with litter covering the floor. This was a true Los Angeles Slum Hotel, full of whores, degenerates and worst, a few terrorists.

  When I reached my room, I laid my bags on the floor, sprawled across this stinking bed and quickly fell fast asleep. I wanted to dream of home, but there were no dreams today. I awoke several hours later and felt extremely restless. I decided to occupy my time playing with my guns for a while. I opened my bags and gazed at all the weaponry provided for me in awe.

  I carefully handled each gun like a fragile piece of art, masterfully dismantling each piece, checking for dirt, ensuring the weapon was functional and well oiled. Each movement creating clicking sounds moment after moment, taking pieces apart and piecing parts together again, it was beautiful even to me.

  I didn’t have these skills before my military experience. I realized that in more ways than one, I was a new man. In one of my bags I found a cell phone. I thought about my mother, and I wondered if I should call her, to see how she was doing. But I considered, if I did, I could be endangering her life.

  I found a lump sum of money in my bag, about 4000 dollars in cash, and a large bag of coins.

  So I immediately jumped off the bed, and slammed the door behind me. I was looking for a pay phone somewhere in the building. I seemed to remember seeing a phone near the front of the building, so I started toward the front door.

  Near the lobby, in a dark corner I found an old pay phone on the wall. Just as I went to pump the coins in, I tried to repeat my mother’s number in my mind, and I couldn’t remember it. I mumbled, “Oh my God, why can’t I think of Mom’s freaking number?” I stood at the payphone, with my head resting on my forearm and my elbow resting on the top of the phone, quietly trying to remember the number. Suddenly I heard a creak in the floor behind me. I turned around with my fists balled up, ready to smash someone’s nose into their brain, and to my surprise, I saw an attractive, yet grungy little woman with a pale white face, and flushed cheeks.

  Her hair was dark and curly, barely reaching her neck. She looked half Italian, maybe even Latino, but clearly mixed with European descent. Her dark thick eyebrows spanned over her eyes like perfect bird wings over her thick, fluffy eyelashes. As she blinked her eyes, and looked back and forth, past me and at me, I found myself nodding my head to the movement of her glances. She wore a brown suede jacket over a white tee shirt, and designer jeans which looked kind of expensive, yet her shoes were dingy and run over, like she had been walking for days.

  I thought she may be a whore, or even a homeless person, whom somehow got hold of someone else’s coat. She was startled by me as I swung my body around to face her, “Oh please! Excuse me sir, I was wondering if I left my purse on the floor over there.

  I can’t seem to find it and I just used this phone.” I warmly smiled and said, “Oh I’m sorry lady, I didn’t mean to scare you.” She was afraid and shaking like a leaf. I quickly scanned the area she was pointing at, “I don’t see any purse over here.”

  Then suddenly she began to cry so hard, she fell to the ground and put her face in her hands. “That was all I had, I’m so fucked now! I’m so fucked! I’m gonna die out here! I just wanted to be an actress!” I lifted her up by the hand, and realized she had a really nice figure, “Hey there, don’t cry, you’re not going to die lady. Do you have any family here?” Her hands were so soft and gentle, like she had never worked a day in her life.

  “No I don’t know anyone, I just got here from Oklahoma,” she replied. I looked her in the eyes and said, “listen, I have some money and I will pay for your room for a couple days and we can figure it out from there okay?”

  She looked up at me, and her eyes lit up like candles at night, she took my hand into both of her hands and embraced me. “Really?” she sighed.

  For some reason, I knew that she would be affectionate toward me from this point on, because of the way she embraced me.

  She wanted something from me, and it wasn’t money, but it was something I knew how to give well.

  “What’s your name?” I asked her. She looked deep into my eyes and whispered, “Delilah, but you can call me Dee-Dee.” She walked over to the couch and sat down, as if waiting to see what I would do or say next. I was the center of her attention at this point.

  So I told her I would return in a moment, and I headed back to my room to grab about $120 from my bag. As I was rummaging through my things,

  I felt a presence behind me, so I turned around this time, with my pistol drawn, only to find her standing in my doorway. “Oh my God you’re a criminal!” she cried. I had to get control of the situation immediately, because it was quickly escalating, “No I’m not, I work for the military, please calm down Lady, I mean, Dee
-Dee.” Her eyes lit up again, “Really! Oh well that is the most interesting thing! Can I see your gun? Let me hold it!

  You are probably the most interesting person I’ve met since I’ve been here,” she said. “Thanks, I’m just here on business, for a few days or so,” I replied. Before I knew it, she had worked her way into my room and was sitting on my bed, her legs slowly eased open, and I could almost feel her eyes staring at my body. It was an intense lustful stare. She moaned, “I have been feeling so unsafe out here, you know this is the craziest city I have ever been to. I’m just a small town girl you know.”

  While she was talking I was thinking about how long it had been since I had a woman. But I didn’t want to screw this mission up, those guys were in the building and I had to dispose of them soon. But I figured, a little fun tonight shouldn’t be a problem, as long as tomorrow is all business.

  “Hey Dee-Dee, how about we step out tonight and have a drink or two, and you can tell me all about your acting career.” She beamed even more, “That sounds awesome!”

  So away we went, down the streets of Downtown Culver City, looking for a place to have a couple of mixed drink specials and maybe an appetizer. It was a rainy night, so I ran around with a newspaper over my head, while she pulled a hooded sweatshirt over hers, neither of us had an umbrella.

  After running down the street like two idiots, we finally found a nice little restaurant with red curtains drawn back and candles burning in the windows. It looked like the perfect place to charm the pants off of a girl in need. “Hey let’s stop here, it looks pretty clean.” Dee-Dee followed me in, like a little puppy dog. I felt sorry for this woman; she was so petite, so fine and all alone in this city. It wouldn’t take much for a guy to overpower her and have his way with her.

  I wondered why her family let her travel all the way to Los Angeles alone. I could understand she had a dream and all, but she was in a very unstable and dangerous situation and if it had not been for us meeting, she might have ended up in the streets.

  But tonight she was in the streets with me, and that meant she was safe, for now.

  I couldn’t shake the feeling, that something about this restaurant felt wrong. Even the waitress at the door looked at me like she knew me, greeting me with a warm and welcoming smile. She raised her hand to lead us in and seated us in nice dark corner near the bar. Dee-Dee sat with her arms on the table and her hands neatly folded, as if she was waiting to see what I would do next. At that moment I scanned the room with my eyes and noticed something odd. It looked like all of the security cameras turned toward us. I tried to ignore the feeling of paranoia that started creeping into my mind.

  I tried to distract myself with Dee-Dee.

  I looked deep into her eyes, with a piercing gaze, trying to see something, anything, to make a connection. “So, what’s your plan?” I asked. She shuffled her hands slightly, reached in her pocket and retrieved a small trinket. “This belonged to my mother. She wanted to be an actress too, but she never had the opportunity. We grew up really poor in the country. She died last year, and I promised myself I wouldn’t let anything stop me from reaching my dream. I’m doing this, pursuing acting, for the both of us.” As she was talking I looked down at the table, tapping my fingers against the cold glass table top.

  I’ve already heard a million sob stories in my life; she was probably full of shit. When I looked up, she was crying, wiping her eyes and running her fingers through her thick curls. She touched me, not physically, but emotionally. For the first or maybe second time in my life, I was truly touched by a woman before ever having sex with them.

  I motioned that I would like to move around the table to her, and she nodded her head in approval.

  After scooting over several seats, I sat next to her and put my arms around her and embraced her with the warmth of a father, which made me ask her, “Where is your father?” She looked in my eyes without shame and said, “I have never known him or met him.”

  The waiter appeared before our table and we ordered four rum and cokes. It was going to be one hell of a night. Drink after drink, we drank the night away, tasting appetizers here and there, spending money like genuine Hollywood movie stars. I felt myself losing control, and it felt good. The hours escaped us as we drank, embraced and became new friends and old friends at once. I talked to her about my life, my abusive father and my crazy brother. We remembered our mothers, and the things they tried to instill in us as children. We were inspired, impaired, and healed one drink at a time.

  Toward the end of the night I began to talk about my experience in the military, but carefully, because my mission was not completed yet. I had to keep something to myself, although we were more than open in our sharing moment. I found myself attracted to this woman in such a profound way. Her innocence, and her vulnerability mixed with the erotic nectar which we overly consumed, had aroused me to a full erection. “Let’s go back to the room,” she whispered in my ear. I grabbed her hand and placed it on my erection. “Oh boy, I can’t wait to feel that,” she sighed. I paid the bill and whisked her away to my room.

  We ran down the street in the rain, like two small children running to the playground. By the time we made it to my room, we were both out of breath. My heart was beating so hard, I could feel the pulsations in my neck. My throat was dry, so I rushed in the bathroom, cupped my hands and turned on the faucet over my hands.

  I poured the water against my face and into my mouth, almost like a savage island dweller drinking from the springs of a nearby waterfall. Dee-Dee reached around me and unbuckled my pants. She reached in and grabbed my manhood with one solid grip and began to give me a reach around.

  It felt so good, her hands were soft and warm and she was eager to satisfy me. I turned around, lifted up her shirt and put her breasts in my mouth, working my tongue around her nipples. She pulled her clothes off and stretched across my bed with her legs open. As I inserted myself in her, she held me back by pushing her hands against my thighs while on her back. Inch by inch she received me inside, moaning and crying out my name each moment. We jerked and swayed around in the bed. Her vagina was tight, sodden and felt smooth like silk, as we rolled around on top of the sheets for what felt like an eternity. She reached climax at least three times, then I came once, and passed out.

  In my dreams we were still making love, on a bed of black roses. Then the dream turned into a nightmare, as the love making turned into torture and her eyes turned yellow. In my nightmare, she had the tongue of a serpent.

  Her body transformed and was covered with scales and spikes. Her teeth were as sharp as needles and she had claws with 3 inch fingernails, which she eagerly dug into my back as I wailed in pain and torment. She was no longer soft and sweet, but hard and wicked. I twisted and turned in my sleep all night until I heard a soft voice and felt a gentle hand rousing me, “Sweetheart you’re having a nightmare!”

  As I awoke, groggy and confused, I was happy that it was just a silly dream. We embraced and made love again. It was the best sex of my life! But the full effect of my love fantasy was counteracted by disturbing thoughts in the back of my mind. That dream was one of the worst nightmares I ever had.

  Out of all my memories, it honestly stuck in the back of my head. Later in the morning, she wanted to have breakfast. I had almost forgotten my reason for being there, and in fearful apprehension, I explained to her that I was on a secret mission that may require her and I to limit contact over the next two days. She took it way harder than expected, she began to cry. “You didn’t enjoy me did you? Because if you did you would want to be with me like I want to be with you!”

  I gently stroked the tears away from her soft rose petal cheeks, “No sweetie, I’m being honest, that’s why you saw the gun. I’m here on military business, but I promise, as soon as I get done with this thing, you and I can spend as much time together as you want.” But I knew I was lying, I intended to escape to Mexico any day. I couldn’t help but fanaticize that maybe I could convince her to com
e with me.

  I knew she wanted to be an actress, and I didn’t want to stop her from pursuing her dream,

  but as for me, there was really no other way.

  Either she would choose to live the dangerous life on the run with me, which was a real life similar to a movie, or she could seek to live out her dreams by playing a fantasy life on film. If she was a woman of excitement, as I somewhat believed, she would be intrigued by my true story. But it was too soon, much too soon indeed, to tell her why I was really in Los Angeles. So I agreed to have breakfast with her, to satisfy her desires.

  Then I would give her enough money to carry her over for the next two days, and if she was still around after I gave her money, then I would spring the plan on her, leave the hotel and high tail it for the border. If she didn’t go for the plan, maybe I would mysteriously disappear, after warning her to stay away from the Hotel for reasons I would not be able to disclose.

  It could go either way, so I just enjoyed the moment, and most of all, I enjoyed her again before breakfast and directly after breakfast in my room.

  Around lunch time I began studying the information in my bags. They were profiles of the terrorist I was supposed to be looking for. The descriptions were vague and very short.

  I was instructed to look for several middle-eastern men who would probably be staying on the second floor according to intelligence. They would be very private, experienced in weapons and martial arts, and withdrawn from their surroundings. More than likely they would be ordering Take-Out food from a middle-eastern restaurant in the area, because they were known to dislike American food and were very distrustful of American business establishments. I was also given a list of middle-eastern restaurants in the area.

  I was thinking, by camping out in the front lobby I could possibly scout out these characters, follow them back to their room and make the hit. I could also check the name registry at the front desk and see the names of all current occupants in the hotel. It sat placed right out in the open, because this hotel was so old it wasn’t even computerized.