The End of Games

by Tara Brown

  Michele laughed, exactly the way he did when I used to watch him on surveillance, "I remember her father well. Take her to my cabin, clean her up." His Russian accent was so thick, I could barely catch what he said.

  James looked past Michele, "Is M here?"

  Michele nodded, "She is here and will meet you below. He's here too."

  A new guard dragged me up onto the huge boat and down a hall. I stumbled but my dragging feet were no match for his brute strength. He tossed me into a room, "Clean up."

  He slammed the door. I stood staring at the door to the room and waited. There had to be meaning in it. There had to be a reason. My mind circled back through the things Servario and I had discussed. He had begged me not to love him, the expression in his green eyes had been heartbreaking. Then he leaned me against the shower and whispered things in my ear.

  They ran through my mind…

  "Trust me Evie, no matter how bad it gets. Trust me."

  I pressed my hand against the locked door and nodded, "I trust you." I forced myself to trust him, no matter how bad it was about to get. I pushed off of the door and turned and walked into the bathroom off to the side of the room. My face was bloody and swollen. Thinking about touching it hurt. I slid my fingers along either side of my crooked nose, took a deep breath, and I cracked it back into place. Tears streamed down my cheeks, taking dried blood with them. My hands and face shook from the overwhelming pain I was in. New blood poured from my nostrils as I stripped down and climbed into the shower.

  Servario's words trickled into my brain as the hot water poured down on me, "Evie, I need you to remember that I will be back for you. It'll feel like I'm leaving. You'll feel alone." He lifted my face up into his, "I will be back for you."

  I shivered in the hot water, shaking with terror and uncertainty. I closed my eyes, remembering the day at boot camp. I was young, fit, and determined.

  The water poured down my head as the image of that day and the pain from the fall that broke my wrist danced behind my eyes. I had ripped my sleeve off and wrapped it around my wrist as a feeling I had never felt before took over my body. It wasn’t fear or apprehension like it should have been. It was bitter hatred and determination. I had finished that course with angry tears washing my cheeks and a bone sticking out of my skin. Coop was right. There was a girl inside of me that was like no other girl. She could and would do anything for her country. My country was still important, but there in the shower, it was mostly about my kids.

  I stepped out of the shower and smiled at the horror facing me in the mirror. No matter what James or anyone else did to me, I was that girl. I was stronger, meaner, and more determined than any man could ever be. I pushed my kids to the back of my mind. I let old Evie crawl her wicked way from my skin.

  I wiped the steam from the mirror and prepared myself for it.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Mommy Dearest

  I pulled on a dress from the closet full of shitty clothes. I almost missed Roxy and her collection. At least those clothes were top shelf. These were nasty. I looked at myself in the simple dress and smoothed the sides against me. I shook my head at the girl in the mirror. She looked like hell.

  I ignored it and laid back on the bed. I took a deep breath of confidence in, my last one, and exhaled into the feeble girl I knew all too well how to be. I curled up into a ball on the bed and started to prepare myself for the intrusion I was, no doubt, about to face. I had to think about the fact there was a possibility a man might enter my body. I might be raped. I might not be able to fight back. I had to make a huge decision—was the entrance of my vagina the death of me?

  My vagina had an answer, a hearty fuck yes. There was no way I was getting raped. I would die before I allowed that. With that new rule in place in my mind, I tried to come up with a plan. Fortunately, I waited for some time before the handle on the door jiggled. With wide eyes and a pounding heart, I jerked as the door opened. Michele, a man I knew as well as I knew any, gave me a wide smile, "Evie, how are you?"

  I sobbed, "Please, Michele, don’t do this. You know my father, you were his friend."

  He laughed, making my stomach curdle. His dark-brown eyes looked sinister beneath the huge, hairy eyebrows and greasy dark hair. His wide nose and broad lips reminded me of a cartoon character. He licked his fat lips, "Evie, this isn’t personal. This is business. You have stolen from your husband and worked against him with the government. You have to be taught a lesson. Besides, your father is a double-crossing bastard."

  I flinched, hugging my legs into my body tighter.

  He locked the door, dropping his gun onto the bed, "Do I need that, Evie, or are you going to be a good girl?"

  I shook my head, squeezing my eyes shut, "Please, don’t do this. Please."

  He laughed again, "You are so different than before. Motherhood tends to ruin the woman inside."

  Fury burned inside of me, but I kept the façade going. I felt the boat take off just slightly as the bed rocked and tilted. When I opened my eyes, he was undoing his pants, "Because you used to be CI and your father was my friend, I'll give you the benefit of choosing. You want to suck before it goes inside of you or after?"

  I shook my head. He shrugged, "Okay, after. I like it better that way. Less mess for me to clean up."

  I gagged, making him laugh harder. He jumped onto the bed, pinning me and squishing me into the soft foam mattress. His garlic breath and BO mixed harshly with the idea of licking him clean. I gagged again. He sat up, "You turn over, I don’t want to look at the bruising. That’s not my style. I like pretty girls, you look like shit and too old to be doing this."

  I almost choked him. Instead, I swallowed hard and nodded my head, "Okay." He climbed off of me, watching the sheer linen dress shift over my naked body. I was breathing heavily, acting like this was a big deal. But my head was somewhere else. I was in the act I was about to commit.

  I started to roll over. I lifted my leg high, letting him get a good view up my dress. His eyes widened as he saw my pussy. I could almost see his lips turn up into a grin. He didn’t see my leg pull in or my foot flex. He never stood a chance.

  By the time I was making contact with his windpipe with my heel, his eyes were just leaving my thighs. The crack of his throat was nasty. I pushed off of the bed, wrapping my legs around his fat throat and slamming him on the bed behind me. I sat on his fat face and snatched his gun up from the bottom of the bed. His huge hands were trying to grip at my legs, but I grabbed the gun and held it to his red face. He was struggling for air and with the pain of a crushed windpipe, when I smacked him in the face with his gun. I held him with my legs until I was sure he was unconscious. The crushed windpipe meant he would die, but at least he would be quiet about it. I pulled on his pants and shirt, gagging at the smell of them. I wrapped the belt around my waist twice and tied it together with a sock. A stinky, foul sock. At least it was better than the slutty dresses.

  Shit.

  I tied his shirt so it was tight to my body and rolled him into the sheets better. He was still gurgling slightly. I tucked him in tight, pulling the covers over his head. Taking a deep breath, I stuffed his gun in the back of my pants and tied my hair up into a bun. My eyes were swollen from the broken nose, but I ignored it as I opened the door. I heard voices coming down the hallway and closed the door again. I locked the door and pushed a chair against the doorknob. I looked around the room, stopping when I got to the curtains. The feel of the moving boat didn’t make me feel better about my decision. I walked across the room, pulling the curtains back and moaned when I saw the small porthole. I looked down at the huge pants, sighing, "Shit."

  I stripped to my dirty underwear I had put back on and opened the small window. The wind and spray made its way into the room instantly. I looked up into the dark night to see a metal railing.

  Shit.

  I tucked the gun into my bra, looking at its positioning nervously. Maybe not the smartest idea. I stuffed it at a different angle, if
it went off, at least it would only slightly maim me. I grabbed the railing, my hands slipping almost on the cold, wet metal, and pulled myself to the sitting position in the window. My torso just slipped through the round hole. I pulled the gun out of my bra and dropped it onto the deck above me. I squirmed my ass through the hole, gripping the railing and realizing as we coasted along the Italian coastline, that it was a bad idea to climb out the window. I couldn’t get my knees through without doing a full pull-up. My arms shook a bit, but I managed to drag myself from the window to the point where my feet could stand on the ledge of the open porthole.

  I narrowed my gaze, trying to see what was what on the boat. The cool sea air made my broken nose burn. My eyes watered as I jumped, dragging myself as hard as I could, crawling with my toes up the side of the slippery boat until I was at the top. I flopped onto the deck, wincing and groaning. I almost laughed, imagining Coop standing there telling me how graceful that was. My back was aching where I landed on the gun. I looked around, no one was out on the deck. It was cold and they were moving, they weren’t expecting anyone to be on board. I picked the gun up and found my footing amongst the ropes and deck chairs. I slipped along the side, marveling at the beauty of the yacht. I imagined Servario's looked similar.

  I ducked, creeping along peeking in windows and hoping I would get an idea of what to do or where James was. James and the man in charge of MI6. I could only hope I ran into Servario on the boat, instead of anyone else.

  The windows I peeked in revealed nothing but lounges and a huge kitchen. No one was there. I slipped to the back of the boat to find my jackpot. In the room, a young-looking girl, I would have to guess was Japanese in decent, sat on a chair in the corner. She wore a schoolgirl outfit. I wrinkled my nose.

  A massive set of guards stood next to her. I peeked in the window a little better to see the legs of a black suit standing next to where James was sitting in the far corner. I couldn’t make them all out. The suit never sat, he talked to James but never budged.

  I sat there watching, waiting, but nothing happened. They talked and she sat perfectly still, not moving at all. I yawned and almost mentally slapped myself. Jet lag was hard when you were older. I never even noticed it when I was twenty. Mid-thirties, I noticed it. At least everyone else was older too, except the Japanese girl. She looked young. I would guess seventeen, if I were being generous.

  I didn’t know where Servario was on the boat, and I didn’t know where Coop was in the world. I imagined he couldn’t be far behind. He and Jack. I almost wished Steve were there with us too. I even sort of hoped Mom hadn’t killed him off. She sounded savage.

  Finally, the guards got up. One put a hand out for the girl, and the other stayed in the room with James. The suit legs left with one guard and the girl in tow.

  I crept up on top of the roof, crawling to the far side of the boat. I opened a door, listening for movement. There was nothing.

  I closed the door quietly and snuck along. I heard footsteps and jumped into a closet. I stood there waiting to be discovered, gripping my gun.

  When the footsteps passed, I knew they belonged to James. He always walked heavily on his heels at home. It was annoying to listen to him upstairs when you were downstairs.

  I heard a lighter and inhaling. The smell of pot filled the small room. He was smoking weed right outside of the closet? I almost sighed, but he would have heard that and recognized it as the soundtrack to our marriage.

  What kind of wanker got high during a mission? He was too relaxed. He and the leader of MI6 must have been old friends. He must have been working for England all along. He was heavy-heel walking and smoking pot. He was not worried or on his guard.

  How was he working for England? Why would they want him? He wasn’t even a good agent.

  I waited for the smell and the sound of the inhaling to be gone completely, and I opened the door. He had come up the stairs next to me. I tiptoed down them, praying I wasn’t discovered. I slipped into a room. It looked fancy. The bed was huge and round, and the room was twice the size of the one I had snuck out of. The one Michele was dying in.

  I looked in all the rooms off of it and slipped into a shoe and jacket closet. I pushed the clothes on the hangers in front of me and sat back on a shoe rack. I could see through the slats in the closet, but only the bed.

  I slowed my breathing and heart rate as I waited. I didn’t know how long I was there, it felt like forever. I was almost nodding off, when the guard came in with the girl. She was still in her schoolgirl skirt, but she wore a bathing suit with it, not a blouse. Her hair was wet, so was the guard’s. The girl sat on the bed in her knee-high socks, grinning and sucking a lollipop. I grimaced a little but then the guard went and sat beside her.

  A British woman spoke as the door closed, "Touch her chest. Sooky, you call him Uncle. Say ‘No, Uncle, we shouldn’t.’ Go from there."

  I lifted my fingers to my lips, horrified. The only thing that made me feel better was that it was suddenly obvious Sooky was much older than seventeen. She had slight laugh lines and her skin wasn’t as plump as a teenagers. Up close she was a woman. I thanked God silently as she smiled devilishly and spoke with a weird Japanese accent. It didn’t sound right at all. "No, Uncle, we shouldn’t."

  He slipped a hand inside of her bathing suit top. "Stop, Uncle. Mommy and Daddy could come in."

  "Just let me see, Sooky. Let me just see what you have in there."

  I gagged a little and closed my eyes as the woman to the left spoke again, "Kneel and pull her bathing suit to the side." There was movement and she spoke again, "Yes, like that. Spread your legs more, Sooky, I want to see him lick."

  The sound of a vibrator turning on filled the room. Moaning, licking, and sucking competed with the noise of it. I clenched my eyes shut, shaking my head.

  "Bend her over the bed. Don’t give me that look. She isn’t sucking you off, I'm not paying for you to like this. Am I Sooky, baby? No. Mommy is paying for me and you."

  I plugged my ears. I was going to fucking kill James and Servario. Everyone on the fucking boat was going to die. I opened my eyes, seeing the arrangement in the room changing up. The British lady with the vibrator, and the penchant for seeing Sooky fucked, crossed in front of the closet door. Her black suit was in front of me so I couldn’t see what was happening. After I moment, I noticed she was moving, swaying maybe. My jaw dropped and I felt the heat and color leave my face as I realized she was thrusting. It dawned on me, the guard might be taking it in the hiney, just as Sooky was.

  Dear sweet baby Jesus…

  I didn’t breathe or move, terrified of the woman suddenly. She moaned, "You like that, Joseph? You like it like that? Sooky, can you feel me making him pump?"

  "Yeah, Mommy! Yeah, make him make me cum." She didn’t sound so Japanese suddenly.

  The poor guard grunted and groaned, and I assumed he wasn’t enjoying the party as much as they were.

  I was almost rocking back and forth and sucking my thumb, by the time it all ended. I was sweating and telling myself it wasn’t hot to watch the guard get savagely screwed. None of it was hot. It was dirty and wrong.

  They started moving and adjusting clothes and things. The guard got up and walked to the side of the closet. The British lady handed a massive black dildo to him, "Put it in the dishwasher, tell cook to run a load of toys. Sooky and I will want to play later."

  He nodded and walked out, limping slightly. I didn’t even want to know, and what was with everyone putting dildos in the dishwasher? Why was the cook handling them in the kitchen? Was I the only person in the fucking world who thought that dildos didn’t belong in a kitchen?

  The British lady in the black suit, stripped down to her underwear and bra and laid down on the bed, snuggling into Sooky. She was older, much older.

  They were both out of breath but hugging each other, lovingly. "Servario's boat is beautiful. Is this the sort of thing you would want, my pet?"

  I grimaced. We were on his boat?<
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  The Japanese lady smiled, and I realized she was British as well, "We need a boat just like this." Her smile was bright and beautiful, "I think he will give it to you, if you give him the thing he wants."

  The older lady shook her head, "You know I don’t have it. I can't find it anywhere. That fucking Burrow is about as likely to be discovered as a unicorn might be. Besides, if I found it, I would have to give it to the Brits. You know I am loyal to my country." They both laughed at that, it was a Dr. Evil sort of laugh. I shook my head, how cliché.

  After a moment, Sooky spoke in a whiny tone, "Mommy, Evie knows things. You know she does. Evie's father was Burrow, we both know this. Did you tell Michele not to kill her?"

  The older lady laughed, "She has probably given the poor man a heart attack by now. She's been with Servario for weeks; God knows what nasty shit he's taught her. That man has a problem."

  My mouth hung open. He was the one with a problem?

  Sooky nodded, "I really thought him having her captive for that week, he would find her father alive, not faking his death again. Even the Americans thought Servario could use Evie to get the Burrow."

  Dear God, they really knew everything. I took a breath and told myself Servario had a plan. He had to have a plan. He had to be on the damned boat somewhere, and he was going to get us off of it.

  The older lady smiled, I could hear it in her voice, "Baby, you and I both know, the only way we are going to get that damned Burrow is if we can get the Master Key. James almost had me convinced it was Servario, but you know the golden rule and he's still alive. James just wanted him dead, but Servario is far too useful alive. He's almost too resourceful to kill. No, it was never him. Besides, his quest for it is genuine. James' usefulness in all this has come to an end. He needs to see the bottom of the ocean. I'll see to it tomorrow. I want to sleep now. We will figure a way out for him."