by BWWM Club
“But why did the agency hire me to plant the bomb?”
“It’s what we’re trying to discover right now,” she explained. “My best guess is that we’ll never know. Probably somebody goofed somewhere and decided to play cowboy. They’ve just caused the worse prairie fire imaginable.”
“Can you get us out?” he asked her.
“I have to,” she said. “I can’t leave you behind for the Russians to find. Heads will be rolling all over the place if that happens. Do you have the super drive?”
“Yes,” Rick told her, “but I don’t have it on me.”
“Exactly what I would say in the similar situation,” the chief commented. She tried to look at the Buddha for a while and concentrated. “The extraction will have to be local,” she told him. “I can’t risk you taking the train to Archangel. Too many possibilities for things to go wrong. Did you walk past the suit of Japanese armor by the entrance?”
“Yes, I stopped to look at it when we got here,” Rick said.
“Good,” the chief continued. “Meet me in front of it in twenty-four hours. It will take me that long to make the arrangements. Check this phone number tomorrow by six.” She gave him a slip of paper. I’ll leave any adjustments to the itinerary in there if something should go wrong. You still have your earpiece?”
“I’ve got it in now.”
“Good. Keep it in; I don’t think the SVR know we can tap their channels right now. They’ll find out soon enough, they always do. But in the meantime we have a way of staying one step ahead of them. Have a good day.”
Rick was going to say good bye to her, but the station chief was vanishing down the hall as soon as she finished.
“You heard,” Rick said to Monique. “Change of plans. Looks like no train ride.”
“I’m not disappointed,” she replied. “I wasn’t looking forward to playing Spies on the Oriental Express.”
“Now I have to figure out something we can do till tomorrow,” he told her.
Monique put her head on his chest while no one was looking. “You really can’t think of anything we could be doing, lover? What about that amber room? Can we go back there?”
“I’m tempted, but there is another place we can use,” he said with a smirk.
Chapter 7
The girl looked to be in her early twenties and was wearing a blue dress which the coat she had on barely concealed. She had thick eyebrows and Rick wondered if she was Armenian. All types of people were moving through Russia these days. In the old days of the Soviet Union, movement was strictly controlled, just as it had been with the Tsars in an internal passport system. But now the system had broken down and a new one had yet to be initiated. Like many other things, Russia was still trying to get a handle on its place in the New World Order. The girl was carrying around a large plastic garbage bag with her in the coffee shop and the owner kept glaring at her. Whatever was in the bag was something that didn’t belong in his shop and he wanted her gone. He finally said a few words in Russian to her and the girl got up and left the shop, taking the bag with her. The last Rick saw of the girl was her carrying it down the street with a cell phone propped to her ear. Somehow he didn’t think whatever she was doing was legal in any country.
Monique and Rick had decided to go hang-out in a coffee shop for a few hours while waiting on another one of Rick’s connections. This one could find them a place to stay for the night away from the prying eyes of the SVR. Now they had to be worried about both the agency and the Russian version snooping around looking for them. Once again, he’d found himself trapped in a game someone else was playing. All he needed was a square where he could move. No one was giving them strange looks in the coffee shop, which was fine with him. It was a place foreigners used all the time. He’d recognized five European languages already and two more Asian ones. All manners of deals were taking place around them with men in business suits wearing ties. Someone once told him the best place to hide was in plain sight. The coffee shop qualified with the local branch of the SVR visible through the window.
Two women in blue sat across from them. They were blond and had taken their coats off. Rick sat quietly and observed them while Monique leaned against him with her eyes closed. He kissed her on the ear to wake her a few times, but let Monique sleep. She’d been very busy early in the day inside the small amber room. Rick closed his eyes and felt his erection return with the memory of it. He’d promised her a trip to one of the fantasy rooms in a big King of Prussia hotel once they returned to America. He meant to keep that one too. Just as he intended to marry the curvy woman he was holding. Time to put his spy game to rest and use the money he’d saved for the ranch in Florida. He closed his eyes and imagined plowing his fields in the day and going back inside to plow her in the evening. He once knew a guy from the country who claimed to have twelve brothers and sisters and whose mother would always pray her husband would get lost on the way home when it rained.
The women in blue were still playing with their hair. Rick kept his short so he couldn’t understand all the fuss. He did like women with long hair and had slept with a number of them who had waist-length manes. It made sex a little confusing because they had to spend time pinning it up. Quite the mood killer when you can’t see your lover on top of you because the hair is blocking your vision.
Both of the women were wearing open-toes heels on their feet, which must have turned them blue after one or two blocks. He found it amusing the lengths people went to just for fashion. He had a few suits at home, but tended toward jeans and t-shirt between assignments. Simple engineer boots worked for him most of the time, although he was wearing running shoes right now. He noted that Monique had grabbed a pair of leather boots with heels when they left her apartment. It was going to make it difficult for her to run if they found themselves in a tight spot. In this weather and terrain running barefoot was out of the question. If he had to, Rick could carry her on his back, but hoped it wouldn’t come to that.
A young man came by with a broom and dustpan, sweeping the floor near them, but ignored Rick when he asked him in Russian if they should move. Rick tried a few other languages, but he still acted like he couldn’t hear them. Rick decided the young man must be another undocumented worker from one of the former Soviet Republics who had come north to find a job. Like in America, he was probably underpaid and working for cash. Monique was still sleeping soundly while leaning on him.
Could they be sisters? he wondered about the two women in blue. He had thought as much when they first walked into the coffee shop, but not now. One was tiny and thin, very typical for a Russian woman in this part of the country. It was why so many supermodels came from this part of the world, although the tall ones tended to hail from Siberia. The other was on the curvy side, which was becoming more common as the typical Russian had a greater access to Western-style food. Both were playing on their cell phones, another bad habit imported from the west. It was nine in the evening and the big nightclubs would soon be opening. Rick avoided those places if he could. The music was too loud and the men rude.
Just as the women in blue left the room they were replaced by two people entering in motorcycle leathers. He couldn’t tell who they were as both were wearing helmets and in the process of removing them when they stepped into the coffee shop. These had to be foreigners. The man looked to be in his forties and had a rough exterior with long hair bundled up in a ponytail. The girl with him looked no more than eighteen and was looking up to him with respect. He wondered if they were father and daughter until she leaned up to him on her toes and planted a long kiss on his lips. Then she turned to the girl at the counter and made her order in flawless Russian with a Moscow accent. The man looked a little confused until he saw the girl behind the counter start to get the cappuccinos ready. Then he put one arm around her and waited to get their order. He fumbled with his wallet and pulled out a wad of cash. Nope, man is foreign and the girl is someone he’s flown here to meet, Rick thought.
He wi
shed the two of them the best of luck internally. Several years ago he’d met a Bulgarian woman outside an outlet mall near Philadelphia who had skin the color of alabaster with eyes blacker than the heart of midnight. Her American husband had a construction job and they were buying some appliances for their new house. He’d overheard her talk in Bulgarian to her mother on the cell phone and introduced himself to them later. It always helped to practice a language when you didn’t get to use it that much. The man had found her on some kind of matrimonial website and flown out to meet her. They’d clicked and now she was living the good life in the USA. He ran into them a year later and she was pushing a stroller with the baby in it while showing signs of baby number two.
So where was his connection? This one he knew. It was a man named Yuri who exported furs to the United States for the furriers. He’d taken some flak from the animal rights people and didn’t care. One of them had tossed paint on one of Yuri’s models at a fashion show. It was funny until the young guy who’d tossed the paint was paid a little visit from two of Yuri’s buddies one night. There was no more paint tossed where Yuri was involved. Some people don’t like to get lawyers involved to solve problems and Yuri was definitely in that category.
At close to ten a man entered the coffee shop in a long coat and made an order at the counter. The owner saw who it was and decided to keep the shop open later. An employee went to the door and let the other patrons leave, but told everyone else they were fixing to close. This allowed Yuri a chance to meet with Rick and Monique.
Rick nudged Monique when he saw Yuri enter the shop. She woke slowly, rubbing her eyes, trying to remember where she was. Monique saw the man sit down with them and realized it was the connection Rick had mentioned.
“Good evening, brother,” Yuri said to him in Russian, using the familiar term gangsters called each other. “It seems you are in some trouble. How can I help?”
“I need a place for her and me tonight,” he told the man. “We are supposed to meet with someone tomorrow who will get us out of here, but tonight I need to hide us both.”
“Trouble with the SVR?” he asked. “Don’t look so surprised, Rick, word is spreading around about the bomb that went off yesterday. Did you have anything to do with it? Ah, I see by your expression you did. No bother, I had thought that operation looked strange. My people told me about it. Crazy world, these intelligence types. Oh, I took care of the problem with the men at the warehouse as well as I figure you were involved with them as well. The SVR showed up, but they didn’t tell them anything they could use. Really, how do you expect to remain unseen with a black woman in this part of Russia?”
“I was hoping you could help me again with the last part,” Rick told him.
“I will this time,” Yuri responded, “but only because of the help you have given me in the past. I do not forget those who have helped me.”
He wrote down an address on a piece of paper and handed it to Rick. “This is a warehouse of mine. It doesn’t have a night watchman, so you will not be disturbed. I’ve written down the pass code on the bottom. You can stay there for the night and make your connection in the morning. Don’t worry about the SVR; I’ll hold them off for one day. Did you know they’ve been watching you in this shop?”
“I suspected,” Rick responded. “The women in blue?”
“Yes,” he said. “Field agents. They pick them younger and younger. Probably will trade the information for access to some pop star from Europe. Please be safe and I will see you again.”
He stood up shook their hands and left, the employee locking the door behind him. The shop owner took a long hard look at Rick and Monique after Yuri left. The meaning was obvious.
“Time to go,” Rick told her. “The owner kept the place open for Yuri now he wants us to leave.”
Monique grabbed her hand bag, put on her jacket and left with Rick. Their car was still unmolested on the side street where they had parked it. On the way to the car, Rick looked at the address Yuri had given him and frowned.
“Other side of town,” he told her. “Some drive, but we’ll have to take it.”
Rick drove her to the warehouse on the other side of St. Petersburg. It was now close to eleven on a Friday night and the party crowd was beginning to file into the streets. Stretch limos blocked the avenues and traffic cops did what they could to keep the cars moving. Rick was able to get around the worst of it and find the warehouse using the address Yuri had given him.
He parked the car in a small area behind the warehouse and brought Monique out with him. Monique was tired and ready to lay down somewhere from all the running around they had done. But first they had to get inside the place. She zipped up her jacket when they left the car and made their way to the rear entrance just like Yuri had told him. Using the paper and a flashlight, Rick punched in the security code into the digital lock on the door. He waited.
Two seconds later a green light appeared over the lock and the sound of a door popping open could be heard. Rick pulled it open and stepped inside. It was pitch black on the inside, but he felt around for a light switch as Monique joined him in the warehouse. He flicked the switch up and the warehouse was flooded by light from the inside. Monique shut and locked the door behind her.
The warehouse was of a new construction and had a poured concrete floor. It was smooth and had been coated with epoxy to make it easier to clean. To their right were the manager’s office and a shipping clerk’s station. A small building in front of them served as both a locker room and break area. Beyond the work areas was the reason for the enhanced security: racks and racks of furs.
Monique had never seen so many animal pelts gathered in one place. Different furs were sorted according to animal and color. The racks were mounted on wheels to make them easier to move around the warehouse. She put her hand on a chinchilla pelt and felt its softness. She had an aunt who owned a mink coat, but she only wore it to special occasions. Each pelt had a tag attached to it showing the source, quality and destination. The furs had been tanned prior to being shipped and the entire warehouse smelt like tanning acid.
She turned to see Rick pull some of the furs off the rack and set them on the floor. Soon, he had quite a pile. She went over and watched him, wondering what he was up to. Then it hit her: he was making a bed for the both of them. Rick walked away and flipped a few switches. Soon most of the lights were off leaving just enough on to illuminate the front of the warehouse. The air was cold, but not freezing; she could still see her breath through the light that remained.
“Do you think this is such a good idea?” Monique asked him, “Putting the furs on the floor? I mean, won’t they get dirty?”
“A lot of things are about to get dirty,” Rick told her, pulling off Monique’s jacket. He tossed it to one side of the pile of furs he’d made on the floor.
Before Monique could say anything, Rick was unbuttoning her top and removing her bra. He unzipped her pants and pulled her to him, giving her some of the warmth lacking in the warehouse. Their clothes were off in seconds and both of them were naked on the pile of furs. Rick pulled more of the pelts over them to keep them warm. She felt his hot flesh under the furs and Rick’s erection on her leg. He’d thought this whole thing up the minute they entered the warehouse, Monique realized.
She felt the soft pelts on her back as Rick slid over on top of her. Monique couldn’t believe how hard he was after what they had been through. Rick began kissing her face and she grabbed his hair, taking control of her lover’s head. She held him close, just wanting to enjoy the sensations of making love on furs. She contrasted the soft fur surrounding her with the rough hair on his body. She pushed him down and felt his mouth work its way down to her waist. Monique was in heaven as Rick’s tongue found her own soft fur between her legs and gently kissed it. She spread her legs back and gave him more room to work.
Monique couldn’t see Rick, but she could feel him kissing down each leg and working his way back. She put one heel on his back and r
ubbed down it. She felt him go to work on the space between her legs and wanted her head to fly off. Somehow she didn’t find it strange her life was in danger and she was getting love from the biggest hunk she’d ever met. Monique had no trouble believing everything about Rick, if he did his job half as well as he made her feel, he would be successful in any field. She put her other leg down his back and felt his hard back muscles under her foot. She could feel his rough scalp between her thighs and gently touched his head with her fingers, guiding him to where she wanted the attention.
“Oh, honey,” she told him, “You lips are golden. Just keep what you are doing.”
Rick slowed down and put just enough pressure on her sweet spot to hold her on the edge while he slid two fingers inside. Monique tossed her head back as she gripped him between her thighs and begged for him not to stop. She was very close and didn’t want to hang back. But Rick had other plans and slid up, working his way up to her face with his mouth.
In spite of the cold, they were both dripping with sweat. Rick didn’t even want to know the value of the pelts they were laying on, he’d hand them up later and apologize if Yuri said anything, but he was certain what they were doing was a common occurrence in the warehouse. Russian women liked their furs and anyone with access to those pass codes could have a fun evening after the bars closed. How many people were walking around in fur coats that had been the liner for a three-way or more?
Rick was on top of Monique and gently planting kisses on her lips. He played with her hair and she told him how much she liked his touch. He couldn’t believe he had to go on a dangerous mission to St. Petersburg to find the woman of his dreams. Rick slid his hands down her back and felt the soft roundness of her butt cheeks. God, she had plenty. He held on to her thighs as she guided him inside her with one hand and let out another moan once he’d entered her. She was very wet and loved the sensation he had of riding back and forth inside her. He began to move faster, the fur pelts giving him a soft base to work his manhood into her body. Monique tossed her heels over his legs and gasped as she felt him inside her.