Threw the Weighty Diet meal straight into the garbage.
Nigel nosed around for a minute, but he couldn’t get into it.
He yapped at me, and I just took a handful of dog treats and threw them into his bowl.
I refilled his water dish.
Then, I took out my bottle of white wine from the refrigerator.
I unscrewed the cap, and just started to drink.
Nigel ate his treats, took a few laps of water, and then curled up next to me.
*****
I woke up on the couch, sometime around dawn.
Nigel was resting against me, nestled in among my breasts.
The light came in from the ocean, and I opened the drapes and looked out at a sunrise that would make anyone’s heart sing.
It made me want to just jump off the balcony.
I fought the urge.
I had unfinished business, with Mr. Robert King, and that fucker of his, George Tanner.
My plan wasn’t all that bad.
Nothing had really changed.
With Derek gone, they no longer had leverage over me.
But, I was going to make sure they would pay, that the world would pay, for stealing Derek away from me.
And, when I was finished, at least then Derek and I would finally be together.
In Death…
Chapter 10
DEREK
Like all brilliant ideas, it was deceptively simple.
All we had to do was fake my death.
That would take the heat off of me for a while, so that Randy and the rest of Alpha Team could step up the surveillance activities on King.
We could amass enough evidence so that Judge Turner would never be able to deny us a warrant for anything regarding that bastard!
It was easy enough to come up with a story.
The hardest part was doing it so that The Old Man didn’t know about it.
Admiral Reginald Decker was a real prick, and they kind of officer who liked to micro-manage operations.
He was a strictly by-the-book kind of man.
And, he wrote the book.
So, when Randy and I came up with our plan, we needed to make sure that all the other Alpha Team members were on board as well.
Once they knew the full extent of the problem, we brainstormed some options.
The one that held the most promise for the operation, and allowed me to concentrate on getting Megan to a safe place, was going to be a bit difficult to pull off.
Luckily, we were well-versed in psy-ops, and also disinformation campaigns.
We contacted our man (actually a woman reporter at the Miami Herald named Rose) and gave her all the details we wanted disbursed. A formal-looking fake obituary was circulated among the Team, to see if it passed muster.
It had to be believable, and yet not too much so.
Of course, while we were sending stuff around, some wag had put a picture of an actual seal on the press release.
I think it was Clyde or Seemore, one of the Miami Seaquarium stars.
A sea lion, really.
But, we got the joke.
“It looks just like you,” said Randy.
I got a different look, one I hadn’t ever seen before on him.
He winked.
Once we had our laugh, we got down to serious business.
The plan was for me to find Megan and extricate her to a safe house, while the rest of the Team boarded the yacht.
That second part was not quite firmed up, as we hadn’t any legal authority to go on-board.
But, Randy felt it was only a matter of time until we heard some mention of drugs, and then the DEA would fall over itself to get warrants.
Any judges involved would be spraining their wrists to sign those warrants. It was a good bust, and there would be mucho kudos to go around.
And, unfortunately, I would not actually be able to participate in those festivities, at least not as Derek White.
It was a fair trade, though, as I saw it.
Megan would be safe, and maybe, we could finally face each other with honesty.
When I told her I loved her, I would hope she would see what that meant.
I didn’t harbor any illusions of being able to be with her or become her husband.
I just wanted to let her know how much she really meant to me.
I was going to get that chance.
Or die trying…
*****
“Okay, the trap is set!” said Randy.
“Then, let’s do it,” I said.
We got into our trademarked blue Ford F-150 pickup, that had been upgraded to have the complete armor package.
Ironically, it was Sam’s and my stepfather’s business who had developed the special, light but strong materials used for protecting us.
It was astonishingly resilient, and made of woven titanium and other metals. There was also some kind of resin used, to make it even stronger.
The end result was one tough son-of-a-bitch vehicle.
It had four-wheel drive, skid plates, LED off-road lighting, and a supercharged V-8. On the technical side, it communicated via secure, encrypted satellite links to the military and police, air traffic control, and local emergency, plus HAM. It even got Sirius / XM.
The hacking tools built into the PC would have made any tech geek wet their pants.
All courtesy of Uncle Sam…both of them.
The gas mileage wasn’t all that great, though.
We drove silently for a while, and then Randy looked at me.
I knew this one…
“I love her, Randy,” I said. “It’s as simple as that.”
He drove on, but in the uncomfortable silence, I could read his mind.
“I know, I can’t let my feelings jeopardize the mission,” I said. “They won’t. I know my priorities.”
Randy looked at me, and blew out his cheeks with a puff of air.
“Derek, old son,” he replied, “Your priority better be to get that little lady to safety, and damn the torpedoes!”
I smiled at him, and then we both laughed.
*****
We were driving along the streets of Miami, near Bayside.
I liked that place.
It was an open-air mall, anchored by a Hard Rock café and a series of bars that always were generous with the rum and tequila.
Suddenly, I saw someone I never thought I’d see - Peg.
She was standing at the side of the mall, on the sidewalk. She looked as good as any woman her age could. She was peering around, obviously prepared to meet someone.
Then, I saw Megan!
What the hell was she doing here? I thought.
She was breathtakingly beautiful. She wore a business suit, and was carrying a purse. Sunglasses framed her gorgeous face, and she was wearing a light scarf to keep the sun off her head.
“Randy, look there!” I pointed.
He veered the F-150 towards the two of them.
Just then, Peg saw Megan, and started to walk towards her. She was waving frantically, and not really paying attention, it appeared to me.
Megan reached into her purse, and just then I saw George Tanner, in a black Mercedes. He was watching the two of them like a cat about to eat a mouse.
“Randy! Punch it!” I yelled.
He gunned the engine, and headed towards them.
Peg and Megan were closing the gap between them.
As they were only about twenty feet apart, Megan stopped, her hand coming out of her purse.
She had a gun!
Tanner suddenly accelerated out towards them, and the Mercedes took dead aim at Peg.
Megan aimed the gun at the onrushing car, and Tanner spun the wheel. The Mercedes fishtailed, and the back end hit Peg, knocking her off the sidewalk, and into the path of an oncoming Metro Bus. She screamed once as the bus ran over her.
The bus driver slammed on the brakes, but it was too late.
Peg’s body sat at an odd angle, with he
r head completely under the back wheels of the bus.
Megan stood, shocked into inaction, the gun limp in her hands.
I grabbed Megan, and she spun around.
“Derek?” she said.
“It’s me, Megan,” I said,
She looked into my eyes, and hers filled with tears.
I hugged her, and then we ducked into the F-150.
“Get us out of here, Randy!” I yelled, slamming the door behind me.
“What the hell, Derek? What about that woman?” he said.
“We can’t do anything to help her, and …” I started to reply.
A staccato noise interrupted us, then a series of thuds as gray blotches appeared on the window by my head.
Tanner was shooting at us from the Mercedes!
He was aiming a pistol, and the rate of fire and impact pattern told me it was likely a Glock 18. That was the fully-automatic machine pistol that was the favorite of assassins the world over.
This one was suppressed, as well.
People were screaming, both from the gruesome display of Peg’s body under the bus, and from the gunfire.
A police officer ran towards Tanner, weapon drawn, but Tanner gunned him down.
“Move it!” I shouted.
Randy threw the truck into gear, and spun the wheels, as Tanner roared out of the Bayside parking lot.
He smashed through a shopping cart being pushed by a homeless woman, who jumped back out of the way barely in time.
Then, the Mercedes took the ramp to I-95, accelerating as it disappeared into the traffic.
“This is Alpha One Romeo,” Randy was saying into the microphone headset.
“We have a black Mercedes-Benz, license tag BCD-104, northbound on I-95. Suspect is armed and dangerous, likely a Glock 18, suppressed. May have other weapons as well,” he continued.
“Aren’t you going to call an ambulance for Margaret? For Peg?” said Megan.
I shook my head, trying to think.
Megan was shaking from all the emotion she was experiencing, I could tell.
I knew the signs of shock. But, there was something else going on, as she hugged me tight.
“Derek! Oh, Derek! Thank God you’re all right!” she cried.
Megan was racked with sobs, and I held her, hugging he back as tightly as she did me.
“Shhhh! Baby, it’s ok! You’ll be ok, Megan,” I said, trying to sooth her.
“Oh my God! Poor Peg!” she wailed.
Just then, I remembered something.
“Where’s your gun?” I asked.
“In my purse,” she replied, still sobbing.
I reached over and rummaged through her purse. In it was a toy gun.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I said, more harshly than I intended.
“What the hell were you thinking?” I asked. “You could have gotten yourself killed!”
“I just wanted to scare Tanner off! I didn’t think he’d try to kill us!” she said. Megan’s eyes were brimming, and the realization of all of the recent events finally hit her.
She began to shake all over.
“Randy, we still have the emergency blanket?” I said.
“It’s in the glove compartment, amigo,” he replied.
I took out the package and opened it. A Mylar-foil blanket was inside, and I unfolded it and covered Megan.
“Here, baby, put this around you, for warmth,” I said. She was going into shock, and I wanted to be sure we could deal with it.
“Any pursuit? More vehicles?” I said to Randy.
“Negative. And, Tanner ditched the Mercedes off 112th, and is gone. They think he might have gone onto a boat in the canal over there,” said Randy.
“Or maybe he’s headed out to the airport,” I said.
Megan perked up.
“King has a Sikorsky S-76,” she said, mechanically. “It seats eight, and has the capability for a water landing. The flotation devices are under the leather seats. There is a red handle for exiting the aircraft in case of an emergency. Only people who are physically capable of operating the latch should be seated by the window…” she droned on.
I let her talk for a while, hoping that she might snap out of it.
“This is Alpha One Romeo, there is a strong indicator that suspect may be fleeing to the Miami International Airport. I need a manifest of all helicopters, specifically the Sikorsky S-76 and variants, business-class, that are currently inbound, outbound, or stationed there, over,” said Randy into the headset.
“King’s chopper is black, with orange trim,” said Megan.
She seemed to have come around.
“Derek, oh, Derek!” she said. “I’m so confused, right now! How can you be here?”
I grabbed her chin and tilted her beautiful head up, so that I could gaze into her eyes. I saw the love there, but I was still too unsure of our situation to commit to anything.
“Megan, I missed you,” I said. I gave her a small kiss on her cute nose.
Megan grabbed my head and shoved her mouth against mine.
Randy cleared his throat, politely letting us know he was still there. I got another of his patented looks.
Megan kissed me harder, and I felt her opening her mouth. I grabbed her head with my hand, and really leaned into it.
Her tongue was like a small animal, trying to burrow into my throat. I heard her making tiny moans, and I sucked on her tongue, stroking it with my teeth. I plunged my own tongue deep into her mouth, and felt a white heat in my face. My dick was coming to life, and I realized this was going to go way too far, in a hurry.
So, I pushed her back, away from me. Her eyes blazed with passion, and I couldn’t help but notice that her nipples were poking out from the sheer fabric of her blouse. Her lacy, tan bra strained, as her breasts heaved and her breath came in gasps.
I wanted to just tell Randy to stop the truck so I could throw her into the bed of the truck and fuck her brains out.
But, we had more pressing matters to which to attend.
*****
Randy drove down 112 to the airport.
He roared down the off ramp, going off-road past a line of cars trying to exit. We spun around in some mud, and knocked over a barricade, as the truck blew through the traffic signals.
I kept my eyes out for any local police cars, hoping we could avoid their attention until we reached the airport.
Randy finally got us to the far west end of the airport, where the warehouses are stationed.
He drove up the parking ramp leading to Building 706. I hugged Megan as we went around the spiral ramp, pushed against her.
Her scent and the texture of her skin was driving me wild with anticipation and want.
We jumped from the cab of the truck, and I told Megan to stay put.
I grabbed our Kriss Vectors from behind the seat, and threw one to Randy.
He snatched it on the fly, and then we took off to the stairway.
We jumped down three at a time, finally coming to the first floor, and running past the TSA desk, while flashing our creds. Then, we dropped them back on their lanyards, and locked and loaded the Kriss carbines, as we came around a pile of US Postal pallets.
The postal workers jumped out of our way, as we ran to the runway side of the building.
We came out into the bright Florida sun, and I saw King running across the concrete apron.
“There he is!” I shouted to Randy, pointing at a black S-76 that was parked next to a huge 747 cargo jet.
The blades were already spooled up, and it was ready to take off.
King jumped into it, and suddenly there was gunfire from a van on the other side of the apron.
Randy and I took aim and fired back, but the distance was a bit long for our .45 caliber bullets.
I could hear the workers yelling and the building being emptied behind us.
“Call for backup!” said Randy.
“Roger, that!” I agreed, and thumbed a button on my headset.
“Alpha Hawk, meet us west end of MIA, vector forty-five, runway two seven,” I said.
King’s helicopter engines revved up, and hot air and dust whooshed all around as it lifted off, and the wind blew through the warehouse doors, blowing papers and debris around.
I sputtered, trying to see what had happened.
In a few minutes, we walked back into the warehouse.
Armed guards met us, but they were busy trying to corral the workers, who all stared at us..
Randy was swearing up a storm.
“This fucking close, Derek! This close! God damn it!” he roared.
Randy had a cut on his forehead, and a small rivulet of blood ran down his cheek.
“You’re bleeding, man,” I said.
Randy swiped at it with his hand, smearing it all over his arm.
“Whatever,” he said.
We stopped at the Homeland Security station, and spoke with the guard for a few minutes.
We waited while he checked out our credentials.
I suddenly noticed Megan was being watched over by one of the TSA guys.
I walked over to her, and nudged Randy as I passed him by.
I winked at him.
“She’s with us,” said Randy, pointing over his shoulder with a thumb.
The guard gave Megan a look.
“Lucky you,” he said to us.
We both, and even the guard chuckled.
“Nice guns,” he said. “Are those UMPs?”
“No, these are Kriss Vectors,” said Randy.
“Nice,” said the guard.
I could see Megan rolling her eyes.
*****
We got back in the truck, and Randy spoke at length to someone, reporting what had happened.
He looked at me, while I tried to find the first aid kit. He needed a bandage for that cut on his forehead.
“Derek, we have clearance to go to Vector 12. What do you think?” said Randy.
I had to think for a moment to remember which safe house that was.
Then, I had it.
The Fontainebleau, over on Miami Beach. Nice digs.
I gave Randy a pack of bandages.
“Here, tidy yourself up, bud,” I said.
Randy took them and walked off to the bathroom.
While Randy was gone, Megan and I spent the time getting to know each other a little more.
This involved some very close contact sitting in the cab of the truck.
We rubbed against each other, and soon I was squeezing Megan’s magnificent tits, her hard nipples pressing into my palms like ripe strawberries, as we kissed.
Fraud: A Stepbrother Romance Page 8