by Wolf Wootan
The man grabbed the woman’s arm and was twisting it, saying loudly, “I told you what would happen, whore!”
Syd snapped, “All right, that’s enough! I’m going to fix that prick’s clock! Don’t interfere, please. He needs a lesson from a woman!”
She got up before Hatch could say anything and went to the table where the woman was crying and moaning, “Stop it, Bud!”
“Let go of her, Bud!” ordered Syd quietly through clenched teeth.
The man looked up at Syd and glowered, “Stay out of this, cunt!”
Syd’s face turned red; she turned to the people at the next table and asked, “Did you hear what he called me?”
The people, stunned by what was going on, just nodded.
“Good, you’re my witnesses!”
She turned and slapped him hard with her right hand, using the heel of her hand to increase the effect of the blow. His head snapped back and he nearly fell out of his chair.
“No one calls me that!” she spat.
He stood up, a little dazed by the force of the blow. He was about six feet tall and weighed around 200 pounds.
“You stupid bitch, who the fuck you think you are?” he slurred, raising his right hand as if to hit her. That was the response she wanted.
At the piano bar, Hatch watched with amusement. He saw the bouncer approaching, caught his eye, and held up his index finger, indicating for him to wait for a minute. The bouncer nodded, but kept a close eye on the situation as it unfolded.
Johnnie said to Hatch, “Ain’t you gonna help?”
“Why would I want to help that asshole?” replied Hatch.
“I meant help her!”
“She doesn’t need any help. I hope she doesn’t hurt him too badly,” laughed Hatch as he took a drag on his cigarette.
Syd grabbed the middle finger of the man’s upraised hand in her right hand and his wrist with her left hand. She levered his finger straight up and back and he sank to his knees from the pain, his eyes watering.
She leaned over and said in his ear, so only he could hear her, “Get this, asshole! You’re lucky there are witnesses, or I would cut off your balls and feed them to you one at a time! Now, I want you to—in a loud voice—apologize to me for your foul language, and to that woman you just abused! Got it?”
“Yes!”
“Yes what?”
“Yes, ma’am!”
“Then, say it!”
In a loud voice he said, “I apologize for my foul language and for hitting Bessy! Please forgive me!”
Syd looked at Bessy and said, “This your husband?”
“No. Boyfriend.”
“I suggest you get a new one. This one’s useless.”
She leaned back over and said in his ear, “I’ll get your address from Bessy and if you ever touch her again, I’ll find you, and then you’ll be history!”
She stood up and let him go and the bouncer was there immediately to escort the man out of the lounge. The crowd started clapping as Syd returned to the piano bar. Bessy got up and ran from the room.
“I’m proud of you, Syd. You hardly hurt him,” smiled Hatch.
Johnnie said, “My God! Bob said you didn’t need no help! I didn’t believe him, but now I do!”
“Did I muss my hair?” she asked, as she checked her nails.
“Nary a hair. I hope you didn’t break a nail. Now, about the beguine. You want to try it?” chuckled Hatch.
“Let me calm down and have my drink. I need to get back into a sexy mood for that dance,” she laughed. “That guy really pissed me off!”
“Watching your tight buns while you were bending over out there got me in a sexy mood,” chuckled Hatch.
“I meant for dancing!”
“I’d watch my mouth around this lady, Bob! She’ll slap you silly!” laughed Johnnie.
“I watch myself around her all the time,” chortled Hatch. “She’s one dangerous lady when she’s mad!”
Syd punched him lightly on the shoulder, laughing. Hatch discussed music with Johnnie until they found a suitable piece that Johnnie knew. Hatch asked him to use a slow tempo at first so he and Syd could synchronize the steps he was going to teach her. Hatch removed his suit jacket and tie, then unbuttoned the top three buttons of his dress shirt.
“Just getting in the mood of the dance,” he told Syd when she looked at him curiously.
“I’m afraid there’s nothing I can remove without causing a ruckus,” she smiled.
“Save that for me later.”
Johnnie started the slow, haunting melody when Hatch and Syd reached the dance floor. Four other couples joined them. Hatch started Syd off slowly, showing her what he wanted her to do. As the melody and beat progressed, she got the hang of it and started feeling the music, and followed Hatch’s lead perfectly. Their choreography was slow and sensuous, and when Hatch nodded to Johnnie, he picked up the tempo just a bit, and their dancing became more emphatic. As Syd became more attuned to the dance, Hatch began “presenting” her more, his steps becoming smaller as he moved like a torero. The other couples had moved off the dance floor to watch and the crowd was clapping in unison with the beat of the music. As the music came to an end, Hatch spun Syd three times and she ended up in a dip on the last note. The audience cheered and clapped as they returned to the piano bar.
“You wanted romantic, I give you romantic,” Hatch whispered in her ear.
“You sure did! That was awesome! I really enjoyed that, Hatch. Er, Bob,” she whispered back.
A round of fresh drinks was at their seats, compliments of the management. Hatch lit another cigarette.
“There is only one other dance I consider more sensual than this one,” he said as he blew smoke toward the ceiling.
“I can’t believe there is a sexier dance than that one! If it had lasted any longer, I think I would have had an orgasm!” she giggled quietly.
“We can’t have that. I like to share those with you!”
“What’s the other one?” she asked, changing the subject.
“It’s a Greek one, danced in most of the taverns in Greece. It’s a slow, one-on-one version of the Hassapiko. The music must be played on authentic Greek instruments, like the Lavouto, Bouzouki, and Naglamas. I don’t think it works as well on the piano. Did you ever see the movie The Greek Tycoon?”
“Yes, some time ago,” she answered.
“Do you remember the dance done by Anthony Quinn and Jacqueline Bisset in the Greek tavern? He never touched her, but it was the most sexual scene I have ever seen!”
“I do remember that. You can teach me that?”
“The next time we’re in Greece.”
“I can hardly wait!”
“Speaking of the piano, Bob, are you ready to let me rest these tired fingers?” interrupted Johnnie.
“Sure, why not? Syd’s been wanting to hear me play and this is the first chance we’ve had,” answered Hatch, putting his hand on Syd’s knee again.
Johnnie pulled his mike closer and said, “Listen up you Lounge Lizards! You’re in for a treat tonight! Bob ‘Broadway’ Kelly is in the building tonight and he has consented to thrill you with his incomparable renditions of show tunes while I take a break. So, here’s the Music Man himself, Bob Kelly!”
There was a great deal of applause, especially from those who had heard him play before.
Hatch took over the piano and opened with his version of the title song from Cabaret. That really warmed up the crowd, getting Hatch into the mood, and he reeled off several more of his favorites. He loved being Bob Kelly.
Syd was astonished at how great he was. She felt like jumping up and yelling, “I’m with him!”
When finally he stopped and took a sip of his weak bourbon drink, while the crowd applauded, he asked Syd across the piano, “Want to sing something now?”
“I don’t know if I should after that display!” she answered.
“Come on, I want to hear you!” he cajoled.
“OK, giv
e me the cordless mike.”
She walked to the empty dance floor with the mike in her hand. All eyes were on her.
Hatch said into his mike, “Ladies and gentlemen, my date, the lovely Sydney!”
There was a lot of applause, since many recognized her as the woman who had humiliated the bully earlier.
“Thank you, you’re so kind. But perhaps you should wait until you have heard me. I haven’t done this in quite awhile. For this number I should have a top hat and a cane, and definitely not be in this tight dress!” she said
There was a lot of laughter and whistles from the crowd, mixed with a few lewd remarks about some of her body parts.
She really knows how to work a crowd! thought Hatch.
“Bob, can you play New York, New York?”
The crowd went crazy as she sang and strutted her stuff in her best Liza Minelli style, though the long, tight dress required her to improvise her moves—which the men in the audience enjoyed immensely.
While the audience clapped, whistled, and yelled, “More!” she whispered something in Hatch’s ear, and went back to the dance floor. When he started to play, the crowd hushed as she began singing I’ll Never Walk Alone, quite a contrast to her first number. The lounge became completely silent as she sang, building the emotion as she reached her final note. There was no sound from the audience for a moment, then came cheering and applause. She bowed her head to them, feeling very good about herself.
Hatch could not have been prouder of her. He stood and stretched his arm toward her, and the cheering volume increased. He sat back down at the piano and began the eerie prelude to the Phantom of the Opera, then he started singing Raoul’s part of the duet All I Ask of You, looking at Syd. She nodded and walked over and stood beside him. They had made a connection and the duet went flawlessly, to their own delight, and the delight of the crowd.
• • •
They arrived back at Syd’s condo at 3:15 A.M., and she kicked off her heels as soon as the door was closed behind them.
“God that was fun! Unzip me so I can get out of this dress and stretch my legs!” exhaled Syd.
Hatch unzipped it, and for good measure, unhooked her strapless bra. She wriggled out of the dress and took it to her closet and hung it up, tossing her bra on the dresser. She walked back to the living room in her pantyhose, her bare breasts bouncing, and sprawled on the couch, her legs spread wide apart.
“Oh, it feels good to be able to move my legs apart! I forgot how confining that dress is! Of course, I haven’t worn it in quite awhile.”
“You were gorgeous in it! You’re gorgeous now!” exclaimed Hatch, gazing at her from the small wet bar where he was fixing another weak bourbon and water for himself and a wine for her. He sat their drinks on the cork coasters and lit a cigarette.
“I was very proud of you, Syd! Your singing and dancing was extraordinary. I haven’t had so much enjoyment in years! Having you on my arm made me feel very special—everyone was envious of me,” he said. “How’s that for an ego trip?”
“I felt the same way, so I won’t rag on you for those sexist remarks! Thanks for letting me handle that asshole. Being humiliated by a woman punished him more than if you had done it, or the bouncer.”
“I knew you could do it all right. I was just hoping you didn’t maim him badly. We didn’t need any more cops around. That asshole doesn’t know how lucky he was,” laughed Hatch as he hung his suit on hangars.
“You must have more faith in me. I am a professional, and I know when to show restraint. I only get real rough when I think someone is in real danger. As you know, I only use lethal force when it is absolutely necessary.”
“I’ll never doubt you again.”
“You know, I’ve been trying to get to know you better—find out what makes you tick. I think I learned something about you tonight. I know spies have to be good actors to pull off all of their cover stories, but you weren’t acting out Bob Kelly tonight—you were Bob Kelly! Kat fell in love with Bob Kelly, didn’t she? She never even knew there was a Bob Hatcher, did she? And, of course, Van Lincoln didn’t even exist back then,” stated Syd seriously.
“I was going to tell her when the time was right. I didn’t like hiding things from her, but it was necessary at that time. But there really is no Bob Kelly. That’s still me,” he answered.
“No, I don’t think so. You’re in denial as to who you really are: Bob Hatcher, Bob Kelly, or Van Lincoln the recluse billionaire who spends most of his time playing International Vigilante. And God knows how many more of you there are!”
“You’re making me sound like The Three Faces of Eve. I’m not a schizo with multiple personalities,” he laughed. “I only use aliases some places so I can relax and enjoy myself. Van Lincoln is never sure when people are being honest.”
“I can understand that, I guess. Dr. Steppe and Anna Klein certainly got different kinds of respect,” she chortled. “But, whoever you are, I definitely liked Bob Kelly tonight. He showed me a wonderful time!”
“Does that mean you prefer him to Hatch Lincoln?”
“Of course not! I’m screwing Hatch Lincoln, am I not? I don’t screw men I don’t like! Speaking of which, I suppose the perfect end to a perfect day would be a nice roll in the hay, but—I can’t believe I’m saying this—my pubic bone is very sore from our previous marathon antics,” moaned Syd. “But I won’t deny you if you’ll be gentle.”
Hatch looked at her with tenderness, not believing how fortunate he was to have met such a woman.
“Ve haff vays to giff sie pleasure mit out hurting sie,” he said with a mock German accent. “Get those pantyhose off and lay back on the couch.”
“Do you mean what I think you do?” she asked, wide-eyed.
“Yes, if it doesn’t offend you.”
“Offend me? Heavens no! Nothing you could do could offend me! I’ve just never asked a man to do that before,” she whispered.
“You’re not asking. It’s something I’ve been wanting to do.”
“What about you—afterwards?”
“We’ll think of something.”
“Would reciprocation be in order?” she asked, smiling.
“That’s a new word for it, but definitely! Now lie back and enjoy!”
Chapter 23
Syd’s Condo, Marco Island, Florida
Monday, August 13, 2001
8:30 A.M.
Syd and Hatch were sitting in the living room having coffee as Hatch checked his messages. They had showered together earlier, and while he was dressed already, she had on just her light shortie robe.
Sunday had been a lazy day. They had slept late, then spent the afternoon at the beach, just playing in the surf, talking, and reading. They had packed a picnic lunch and a cooler filled with beer, water, and wine so they could eat and drink when they pleased, no further planning required. Monday had finally arrived, and Syd had to face reality again, no matter how much she had enjoyed her fairy-tale weekend.
“Anything serious?” Syd asked as Hatch put his Blue Phone down.
“Mostly routine. One call bothers me though. My Chief-of-Station in Rome left a message saying one of our agents was killed in a shootout. It was supposed to have been a routine pick up of some intelligence document,” he said, sipping his coffee. “I’d better call him and get more details. It’s afternoon there now, so he should be available.”
“I didn’t think Triple Eye people did dangerous things. I thought that was reserved for Lincoln’s Liberators,” said Syd.
“It is very unusual for Triple Eye personnel to be hurt—much less killed—gathering data,” he mused. “I’ll call Carmelo Cifelli now and find out what happened.”
While Hatch talked with Cifelli, Syd went to the bedroom and dressed in jeans, yellow blouse, and white sneakers. When she returned, Hatch was just finishing his call.
“Ciao!” he said as he hung up.
Turning to Syd, he said gravely, “It’s worse than I thought. I have to go to Rom
e and sort this thing out.”
“How come that doesn’t surprise me,” Syd said flatly, disappointment in her voice.
“Why don’t you come with me, Syd? I’d love to show you Rome! My place there is fabulous! It’s an old renovated castle, moat and all!” he bubbled.
“And a drawbridge, I’ll bet!” she said. “Hatch, I have a job to call about today, and I have to find a place to live in Miami! I can’t go off to Italy with you! As much as I would love to! I have a life, and I can’t let you steal it!”
She got up and started pacing. He knew he had to defuse the situation and change her mind.
“Maybe there’s a compromise. When do you have to report to work?” he asked.
“Hatch! I have to find a place to live—and move!”
“I know, I know. I asked when?”
“Classes start September 17. I have to report on the tenth for a week of orientation,” she replied.
“Good! We have four weeks,” he said.
“You’re not listening! I have to …”
He held up his hand to stop her, saying, “I heard you! You can tell Mrs. C. what you want, the areas to look at, and she can take care of it for you. She can line up several choices for you. All you’ll have to do is pick one. It will save you a lot of boring house hunting, and she’s an expert at things like this.”
“Hatch, I can’t keep letting you do things for me. Mrs. C. should be doing your work, not mine!”
“She has plenty of spare time, especially with me out of town, and she likes you. She’d love to do it!”
“As if she would have a choice,” laughed Syd. “You think, she jumps.”
“Look, we’re just getting to know each other. Just think of it as your last vacation before you start back to the daily grind. We’ll be gone a week—we’ll have a ball! Dinners, shopping, dancing! Sex! Then I’ll bring you back, if that’s what you want,” Hatch implored.
“Damn you, Hatch! You know I want to be with you! You’re not playing fair!” she groaned.
She stopped pacing and went to him, put her arms around his neck, and looked into his eyes. He bent and kissed her.
“This trip will be a true vacation. No Shadow trips, no dangerous stuff. Just fun and lovin’,” he urged.