Green Eyed Burn

by David A. Lloyd

  “Of course,” John replied.

  Crudup slapped an open palm down on the desk. “Ha! Good.” He heaved his heavy bulk of the chair. “Yes, I can have it all together for you in about three days.”

  John stood up and Nikita followed, “Very good,” he said, “I’ll ‘ave the funds arranged for you then also.”

  Crudup’s eyes narrowed, “I want half up front.”

  John was silent for a moment. That was unexpected.

  Nikita looked at him.

  John very slowly leaned toward Crudup and placed his hands on the fat man’s desk, “Mr. Crudup,” John said firmly, but softly, “I am looking to purchase five ‘undred million, I repeat million, dollars in Ink and I am not asking to see ‘alf up front. I am sure all those zero’s can guarantee a certain amount of trust between us business people.”

  “Right you are,” Crudup said carefully. He placed the passports down on the corner of his desk, “We’ll have plenty of time to make arrangements for pickup, but I do ask that for the time being that the two of you remain here, as my guests of course.”

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  “Of course,” John said, “I’d be delighted.”

  Crudup clapped his hands together. “Super!” He lumbered around his desk and dropped a pudgy arm on John’s shoulder. “Enough of this business talk. I am going to introduce the both of you to the pleasure my humble abode has to offer.” Crudup pressed a button on his desk. The office door opened and Eulon Rae entered. “Eulon here will show you to your rooms. I have some paperwork to finish, then I’ll meet you both in the grand ballroom. A half hour shall we say?” Crudup held out his hand.

  This time John took it, “Until then.”

  “This way please sir,” Rae said.

  John and Nikita followed him into the hall. Then as he closed the door behind them Nikita glimpsed Crudup snatching up the passports, “Check them out,” he snapped.

  Who is he talking to? Nikita pondered that as they reached a set of double doors. Above them was a sign that read:

  “IT’S NEVER TO LATE TO COPULATE!”

  Rae pushed open the doors. Both John and Nikita halted at the threshold. The entire room was circular and mirrored. The walls, floor, and ceiling all were mirrored. Near the door was a dresser and night table, they too were mirrored. Rotating in the center of the room was a heart-shaped bed. The sheets looked silk, and the comforter on top was shiny and metallic looking. John’s suitcase was already in the room.

  “Miss Trisk, your room is next door.”

  “I am sure it is fine.”

  “Of course,” Rae said, “I will return in one half hour and escort you both to the grand ballroom and Mr. Crudup.”

  “Thank you,” Nikita said and closed the door.

  Wordlessly Nikita lifted the suitcase and placed it on top of the dresser. She opened it and looked at John, “You rest sir,” Nikita said, “I will unpack them for you,” he understood the meaning. They have already been opened.

  “Fine,” John replied. He crossed over to the rotating bed and flopped down, “Lay out my tux and wake me ten minutes before its time.”

  “Yes sir.”

  John closed his eyes. Nikita is probably right. The room is sure to be bugged. Always stay in character. Ha! My high-school drama teacher said I was wasting my time.

  Soon his thoughts drifted back to Madhuri.

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  Midsouth 7 Medical Facility

  Toronto, Ontario, Canada

  06:47 hours 28 August, 2020

  John stood up and placed the tips of his fingers to the cool glass of the window, “I have a plan,” he said.

  “Let’s hear it,” Madhuri said sitting up in her hospital bed. John explained the events as he knew them since he walked out of that coffee shop on Baker. He talked about Catherine and how he felt when she was near and how her death almost tore him apart again. After that John grew silent before turning and facing his best friend. “When Kris died I couldn’t deal with it so I ran. I ran from everything, I ran from what happened in South America, I ran from you, my only friend, but most of all I ran from myself.” John ignored the dampness on his cheek. “When I learned what happened to Catherine I found myself back where I started from. I was ready to run again. It was meeting Nikita that showed me what an idiot I’ve been.”

  John moved out of the shadows and into the dim light coming from the lamp at Madhuri’s bedside. She saw his tears were flowing freely. “The time for running has ended. It’s now time to fight. To fight for what’s right, for Catherine and for me.”

  John placed his hands on the side rail of Madhuri’s bed and explained his plan. “I’ll understand if you don’t want to be involved. It’ll be dangerous.”

  “You bet your ass it’s dangerous. That’s the most insane plan I’ve ever heard.” Madhuri suddenly smiled. “How can I help?”

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  John squeezed her hand. He was not completely sure she would go for it.

  “I was hoping you would say that.” He did not realize until that moment how much her approval meant to him.

  “If this little stunt works, it will be the biggest news event since Sussexgate. I wouldn’t miss that for the world.”

  “I’ll have to talk to Stryker for network time and I’ll need a field control operator I can trust.”

  “You’ve got one right here. As for Stryker, just find me a phone and I’ll phone sex that grease ball into giving us a link on the CWN’s Atok VII.”

  “Thanks Madhuri. You’re a good friend.”

  She motioned him closer with her finger. “I’m just happy to see the John Riel I know and love back,” she whispered. “Now give us a kiss and get me a phone.”

  John smiled and kissed her.

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  The Kieran Crudup Estate

  South of Sudbury, Ontario, Canada

  21:41 hours 01 September, 2020

  “Mr. Smallcock,” Nikita whispered softly into John’s ear, “Time to get dressed sir.”

  John opened his eyes and was awed. Nikita looked radiant as she stood before him, in a full length black evening gown bound loosely over her slender frame. “You look beautiful,” he said before catching himself. John did not want to threaten the precariousness of their relationship. But to his surprise, Nikita blushed.

  “Thank you,” she said and smiled sincerely. It was the first positive expression John had seen her display.

  With a bit of trouble John finally managed to stumble off the rotating bed. His next chore was to find the door to the washroom along the mirrored wall. After a few moments of fruitless searching he stumbled across a brass knob.

  “That would be it,” Nikita said.

  Not successfully hiding his embarrassment, John slipped into the washroom where he quickly showered and dressed.

  Rae arrived as Nikita finished fixing John’s tie. “Mr. Crudup is waiting in the grand ballroom.”

  “Right then, let’s go,” John said.

  Rae lead John and Nikita down a series of dark and twisting corridors. To 208

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  discourage wandering about, John theorized. The sounds of two, three, or more people engaging in sexual acts emanated from behind thin, sometimes closed, doors. Finally they reached a large set of double doors. Rae stepped aside as they swung open automatically.

  The pungent smell of alcohol, tobacco, marijuana and other odors John could not readily identify assaulted his nostrils and loud turn-of-the-century heavy country-rock music vibrated though him. This room is kept soundproof. Stretching around the circumference of the large room was a long teak bar. Rows of bottles, glasses and the occasional oil painting of Crudup ran along behind it. Placed in the center was a multi-platform stage populated with a dozen healthy bodied girls, each one in an advance state of undress, gyrating to the music.

  In one dark section of the hall was a smaller dance floor where
more personal dances were performed. Scattered throughout the rest of the open area were small tables with two or four chairs each.

  John forced himself not to clench his fists. He glanced at Nikita. Her eyes were wide. She regained her composure and looked at John. Even then she could not hide all the pain. Her brother died here. John gently squeezed her hand. Nikita bit down on her lip and lowered her head to avoid any eye contact.

  John looked forward. Welcome to hell. It doesn’t get much better than this.

  Rae gestured toward a private table near the center stage. Crudup, with a drink in hand, sat waiting for them. John and Nikita crossed the grand hall and sat at Crudup’s table. Instantly a scantily clad waitress appeared. Crudup drained his glass and held it up, “The usual again,” he said. John realized if he was going to get through this night he was going to need a drink. “Draft of the best Canadian ale,” he requested. Nikita shook her head and the waitress left, accepting a playful slap on the buttocks by Crudup.

  “This room is my pride and joy,” the fat man announced. “My rumpus room, so to speak. You wouldn’t believe the kind of people shell out big bucks for a night here.”

  “Scum?” Nikita asked sharply.

  Crudup gave her a pointed look, then smiled. “You bet my dear. Scum, Politicians, Heads of State, cops, even Federal Ministers.”

  “Really?” John said, “‘Ow long have you been operating ‘ere?”

  “A couple of years or so. I had a similar set up in Vancouver, but I was 209

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  forced to shut it down.”

  “What happened?” Nikita asked. “Guilty conscious?”

  “Local problems. A tart offed herself. Cops who don’t like being bought,”

  he laughed as is if were the funniest thing he had ever said. John tensed inside.

  Nikita sensed his anxiety and grabbed his hand under the table. Just then the waitress returned with the drinks. She placed then down on the table and left, accepting another playful slap from Crudup.

  “What a tushie,” Crudup said. He snatched up his vodka and apple juice and downed it. “Enough of this business talk,” he said and wiped his mouth with the back of his pudgy hand, “for the next three days the two of you are my personal guests.” He reached out and touched Nikita’s hand. “Tina, my dear, do you know what you need?”

  “I cannot imagine,” she said and gracefully pulled her hand away.

  “A man,” Crudup raised his hand and snapped his fingers. A tall, buff, oiled down stud clad in a G-string, bow tie, and cuffs with cuff links appeared by her side. “Tina, this is Chase,” Crudup introduced. Chase took Nikita’s hand in his. “Take good care of her Chase. She’s an important guest.”

  “Yes sir,” Chase bent at the waist and kissed her hand with his tongue.

  “May I?” he asked with almost sincere warmth and compassion. Nikita glanced at John. He sat transfixed, struggling with the realization that his fianceé died in a room very much like this one. Nikita understood his suffering.

  With an expression of girlish reluctance masking her own pain, Nikita glanced up at the tanned slab of beef and smiled. “Please.”

  Chase held out her chair and escorted Nikita across the dance floor.

  “If you don’t mind me saying so,” Crudup commented, “I think your associate is rather uptight.”

  John blinked. “I do mind,” he informed the fat pimp. “So keep your little opinions to yourself,” John said and downed half of his draft.

  “Oh yes, of course,” Crudup said quickly, “I’m sorry Mr. Smallcock. I didn’t mean to offend you.” Dampness bubbled across his upper lip and brow. Smallcock was the only client he had since Stein’s death and he needed to unload the Ink quickly now that Smyles’ back-door-to-Europe plan went bust. “Don’t worry about Ms. Trisk. She is going to have the time of her life,” then as reassurance Crudup said, “Chase is clean. All my people are.”

  “P-pardon?” John stammered, suddenly aware he had missed something important. He twisted around and spotted Chase leading Nikita through a 210

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  door on the far side of the ball room, “I thought it was a dance.” Shit! The fat bastard is going to try to keep us separated!

  “Oh, I’m sorry Mr. Smallcock. I should have made myself more clear. Chase is one of my whores.” He snapped his fingers, “Now sir, what about you? I have one of the hottest V.R. simulations ever written, and it’s fully interactive. No…” Crudup pitched, “You seem to me to be someone who fancies the real thing. What do you like? Blonds, brunettes, redheads? All three? A man?” he waved over the waitress.

  John seethed as he turned and faced Crudup. “I don’t think so,” he said through clenched teeth. I gotta dump this fat prick and find Nikita. Crap!

  How could I have done that to her? This place…. Crudup whispered in the ear of the waitress then smiled at John as she turned and left. “Have I got the babe-machine for you. She is not only firm, fit, and fantastic, but she has the greatest,” Crudup cupped his hands in front of his chest, “twaglers I’ve ever seen.” His jowls quivered as he laughed,

  “She’s my favorite girl!” Crudup leaned across the table. His apple juice breath struck John in the face like rotting fruit. “Between you and me she fucks like a mink in heat.”

  “I really appreciate the offer Crudup, but I’ve ‘ad a long flight and in…“

  John sensed a presence at his side and something told him to investigate. Pink stiletto-heeled shoes with matching fishnet stockings and garter belt showed off tanned and muscled, yet fully feminine legs to their fullest advance. Gracing her torso was a white brassiere with pink lace exhibiting an abundance of cleavage. A pink silk choker highlighted her throat. John felt the blood drain from his face as he looked into her eyes. They were green.

  They were Catherine’s.

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  Love and pride.

  *****

  Madhuri flinched at the sound of the rifle firing.

  “It takes some getting use to, the noise,” Nikita said.

  “I’ve heard it before, but I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.”

  The two women were sitting on the back bumper of “Baby II.” Fifty meters away John was target shooting with his Japanese made SKB M-7300 Slide Shotgun. It was one of his few personal items found undamaged after the crash. John fired again. He had yet to hit any of the targets.

  “For as long as I’ve known John, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him fire that thing. I don’t remember why he even bought it,” Madhuri said. Nikita held up her hand to block the noonday sun. “He is a very peculiar man.”

  Madhuri looked at the Russian. She privately agreed. Since she first met John in college he had always moved to the beat of a different drummer, but she wanted to hear Nikita’s take of him. “How do you mean?”

  “He is not like any man I know. He has an overwhelming sense of what is right and what is wrong. Almost to a fault.” Nikita pursed her lips for a moment, struggling with her thoughts, then continued, “He seems to me not to be the type of man who would believe that the ends could possibly justify the means. Yet there he is, learning how to kill. To be honest Madhuri, his whole reasoning behind agreeing to help me. It is all for the love of a dead woman. I do not understand it.” She glanced down at the cane resting on her 212

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  lap. I do understand more than I realize, and it frightens me to believe it. Madhuri looked at Nikita for a long moment. “Let me tell you something about John Riel,” she finally said. “He is the most decent guy I know. He would, without hesitation, give you the shirt off his back.” Madhuri glanced across the meadow toward John. “I’m proud to call that guy my best friend.”

  Nikita remained silent.

  “Let me tell you a story.” Madhuri continued, “John and I went to school together. We were a bit of an item back then. Hell, if he asked me to, I would have married him on the spot. But, as it happens, aft
er graduation we drifted apart. Then I had a line on a job in Ottawa. At the same time John headed west for work.” The SKB fired again. Madhuri did not seem to notice. “The two years I spent in that city almost killed me. I had three very bad relationships and a job that was going nowhere fast. Then like a fool I looked for help in a bottle. God I was stupid.” Her eyes dropped to her naked feet dangling in the tall grass. “I lost my job due to the booze. I drank away my Goddamn life saving and was flying. It’s the old story, fell in with the wrong crowd, experimented with the wrong drugs and so forth.” Madhuri looked back at Nikita. “Then one day I crashed. Crashed hard.”

  “Madhuri…I….”

  ”I don’t remember why, but thank God for it, John just happened to be in town that day. He saw my photo on the marquee of a strip joint. God, what a shock that must have been to him. He went in and found me doped up and naked, pukin’ my guts out on stage. My sleazebag agent, slash boyfriend, shot me up with something. I don’t even remember getting the Goddamn job,” she watched John reload, “He knew he couldn’t get near me with the bouncers around so he did the next best thing. He pulled the fire alarm. The bouncers were the first ones out.” Madhuri wrapped her arms tightly around herself as if a cool breeze drifted past. “Through my doped up haze I saw him walk toward me. He came right up on stage, picked me up like a little girl and carried me all the way to the hospital.” She looked at Nikita. “I had a long and painful drying out, but John was at my side during it all. I haven’t had a drink or touched drugs since.”

  Nikita lowered her eyes as Madhuri continued, “In Ottawa my name was mud. I couldn’t get a job anywhere. On John’s word only they picked me up at CKKC. But once there I worked my ass off. I had a lot to prove, but as John told me, not to him or to the world, but to myself.” Madhuri turned and watched John as he started in from the field. “I don’t know who, but someone once said, ‘The only thing stronger than the love of a woman is the pride of 213

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  a man.’” Madhuri looked back at Nikita. “You look at that man out there and you tell me why he is doing what he is doing.”