you learned in law school." "Señorita, you would be quite amused by some of the subjects we studied in law school. Let's find our room, and I'll give you una lección privada."
* * *
"I wonder if Olga deliberately requested rooms on the end like this?" Bruce mused as they approached their room. "You'd think she'd request rooms towards the center—with lots of people around. Safer that way."
"I think you're reading too much into it, Bruce. Hotels just assign rooms as they're available—and even if it was intentional, she said she wanted some privacy. Remember?"
"True. Well, I can think of some ways to put that privacy to good use." The key jingled in Bruce's hand as he unlocked the door. "Y'know, I can't remember the last time I went to a hotel and got an actual key. After you, gorgeous…" Bruce stepped aside to let Mandy enter; his eyes focused on her ass as she passed. It seemed like years since he had touched her, and it took extraordinary effort to resist throwing her to the bed and tearing the clothes right off her back.
Mandy went directly to the large fruit basket on the dresser. "Here's our special welcoming gift. The way Olga was talking, I wonder…" She wasted no time deconstructing the careful arrangement to reveal two DVDs and a portable flash drive flanking a package wrapped in canvas and tied with a cord. "Bruce, hand me my bag. I..." Their hands brushed in the transfer of the bag, and Mandy found herself back on the airplane. His scent, the solid but silky feel of him in her mouth, the hushed excitement in his voice as he…
Shaking herself free of the images, she pulled Amichu from the bag and placed her on the dresser next to the canvas-wrapped package. "Yes," she murmured, "they are on the same scale—but are they really two parts of a whole?"
Then Bruce's lips were on her neck, and she let out an audible sigh. She turned to meet his mouth with hers, the desire for him overwhelming. It had been so very long—so very, very long—and now she finally had him here alone. "Bruce?" "Mmm hmm?" Bruce let his lips slide to her neck and began to do something
he knew drove her wild. "Bruce, wait. Stop. Bruce, I mean it!" "Why? God, baby, it's been so long since I had you and…hey!" "See, I'm not crazy! You feel it, too." "No, you're not crazy. I really do feel like it's been forever—but it's really only been a few hours. I always want you, Man, but I see what you mean. This is different. It's so…so desperate."
"Yes, and I think I know why." Mandy put her hand on Bruce's chin and turned his attention toward Amichu and the wrapped figure resting next to it on the dresser.
"Oh jeez, not again! Man, I'm beginning to really hate this shit. I don't need some ancient aphrodisiac to want you, and I don't like being manipulated, damn it!" Bruce retreated to the bed. The intense longing remained, but now that he was actually thinking about it, he could separate his natural desire from the overlaying desperation.
"At least this one isn't dangerous, Bruce—at least not in our hands. Who knows how it would affect two people who weren't already lovers? I wanna see our new friend here in the flesh—or stone, as it may be."
Mandy tugged at the twine holding the canvas in place and unrolled the protective layers to uncover the seated male statue from the pictures Eddie showed them in Santiago. His legs dangled over the dresser's edge, whereas his companion sat with her legs ringed and ankles crossed, and he held his erection with both hands at its base. With Amichu right next to him, there could be no doubt both were the work of the same sculptor. "Do you realize what we're sitting on here, Bruce? To some people, this discovery will be like proving the Romans built Stonehenge. This is really gonna shake things up!"
"I know what I'd like you to be sitting on, señorita. C'mon over here and let me shake you up. We've got a couple hours to kill before Olga gets back, after all."
Mandy raised her head to look into the mirror and grinned. Behind her, Bruce lay on the bed, his hands laced behind his head and his arousal still evident. "Changed your mind about being manipulated, eh?" "Oh, I wanna be manipulated, all right. Man-ipulated, get it?" "You're lucky," she said as she turned around and knelt on the foot of the bed, "that I am not turned off by lame humor, Counselor. Although with these artifacts in the room, I'm not sure anything could turn me off."
Bruce crooked a finger, beckoning for a kiss, and Mandy lowered herself onto him. "We'd better at least try to take the edge off, then, because—if all goes according to plan—we'll be traveling with our stone friends at least until we get back to Santiago. I don't want my own stone artifact on exhibit the entire time, if you catch my drift."
Mandy sat up, straddling Bruce, and unbuckled his belt. "Y'know," she purred as she grasped his cock, "the etymological roots of the word 'manipulate' mean 'to fill the hands'."
"Oh, so we're gonna have a Latin lesson, too? I can think of a couple more words for us to study."
"Like fellatio perhaps? You know that's a word I always enjoy wrapping my mouth around, Counselor."
"It's one of my favorites, too. But I was thinking of some 'c' words, like cunnilingus and coitus. Or, to put things more directly, it's your turn now, my dear Amanda." "Amanda? I don't think you've ever called me…hey!" Mandy cried out as Bruce abruptly stood up, sliding his hands under her skirt to cup her bare ass cheeks and lift her along with him. He quieted her by planting his lips on hers and thrusting his tongue into her mouth.
Bruce pulled her tighter into his arms so he could lift her skirt above her waist, then let himself fall forward. Mandy made a sound of surprise as she went backward, but Bruce never released her tongue—so, she simply wrapped her arms tighter around his neck as they bounced. He pulled away from the kiss and spread her skirt around her hips and upper body, giving the impression of a flower for which her legs formed twin stems. He then knelt to partake of that flower's nectar.
Bruce kissed his way up Mandy's inner thighs, switching from left to right as he moved closer to where those stems came together. Reaching their nexus, he paused, his warm breath tickling Mandy's pussy as he hovered above it. He kissed her labia with a surprising gentleness given the speed of his attack, the haste gone from his motions.
His tongue flickered lightly over her soft, wet folds as he slipped lower to lap at the base of her cunt, then thrust his tongue firmly into her. Pressing hard against her, he pushed in as deep as he could, his tongue exploring the textures inside of her as she wriggled beneath him and her breathing quickened. Her hips rose as he retreated from those depths with his tongue dragging along the top of her inner channel, then continued northward to circle the hidden nub of her clit.
He used his teeth to nibble lightly at her lips, just enough to contrast the softness of his tongue with the hard edge of his incisors on her delicate flesh. "Man?" "Oh God, don't talk! Finish what you started!" "Just a simple question. Were there any grapes in that basket?" The knock took them both by surprise. "Shit!" Bruce growled. "That's lousy timing. I didn't think she'd be back quite so soon." As he fumbled with the button of his jeans, Mandy rose, smoothed her skirt, and started toward the door.
"Open up!" A voice far too deep to be Olga's accompanied another, more insistent, knock, causing Mandy to stop in her tracks and turn to look at Bruce in alarm. He motioned toward the dresser and she nodded her understanding. Collecting the statues, the discs, and the memory stick, Mandy darted into the bathroom.
Bruce had his hand on the doorknob when their visitor added, "Hurry, please! It's Fili. I am a friend of Eduardo—Eddie."
Mandy emerged from the bathroom just as Bruce opened the door to reveal their faux tourist shadow. "You!" they exclaimed in unison. "I need your help," he lurched into the room. "I can't find Olga, and I think
she's in grave danger. We must go now." "She went back to the museum for a meeting," Bruce informed him, poking
his head outside to glance around. "Sí," he panted, "and I thought she'd be there a while, so I took the opportunity to...um, relieve myself. When I returned, she was gone and el policía were there instead." "Did they follow you? Because now the police are here." "¡Mi
erda! The authorities should not see me. I must hide." Mandy gestured toward the bathroom and Fili slipped inside, closing the door. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed Bruce's cheek. "I'm not finished with you."
"Nor I, you. But we've other pressing concerns at the moment. Two of them, in particular—and they're headed this way. It's show time. Ready?"
Not waiting for her answer, Bruce put both hands in her hair and mussed it up a bit more. She winked and unbuttoned her blouse. Slipping back into the roles just left, they were kissing deeply when the officers reached the door, seemingly oblivious to the open door, their visitors, and any other external distractions.
"Excuse us," one officer coughed. When he did not succeed in gaining their attention, his partner rapped on the door frame with his baton. Mandy jumped out of Bruce's arms, her hands flying to her mouth in surprise. "We need to ask you a few questions about Olga Sanchez Rojas. You are
Americans, no?" "Yes," Bruce responded warily as Mandy fussed with her clothes, distracting them with glimpses of her bra. What would have been commonplace on any beach provided a tantalizing diversion in context. "Is Olga okay?" "She's..." the younger began before being interrupted. "We'll ask the questions, señor. Mind if we have a look around?" He started
to step across threshold. "Um, Bruce," Mandy giggled nervously and pointed at his fly, which was not
zipped. Bruce gave the cops an imploring look. "Fellas, this is really not a good time. Can you come back later? Olga will be back then, and we can all hook up for a mai tai on the terrace. How 'bout it?"
The younger one looked at his shoes and blushed, but the other didn't budge. "I don't think you understand the gravity of the situation. I need to see your passports. Now!" he added when neither moved.
As he zipped his jeans, Bruce gestured to Mandy with his head. Fetching her bag from the dresser, she reached inside and handed them over. "Take these back to the station." the bossy one said, passing them to his
subordinate, "and run them through the computer." With an eager-to-please nod, he was gone. "You two will come with me." The appearance of a gun took both of them by surprise, and Mandy hugged her bag to her chest as if it could shield her. "The late Professor Sanchez Rojas hid something from me, and you're going to help me find it."
Mandy's anguished exclamation coincided with a noise from the bathroom. Leaning against the wall, she covered her face in her hands, and Bruce immediately moved to hold her.
"Stay where you are!" he warned, aiming the gun at Bruce's chest. "I don't want to have to shoot you—at least, not yet. Let's go."
"No one's going anywhere until you explain yourself, officer," stated Bruce defiantly. "Don't think the pistol scares me, either. Shooting us would create more problems for you than it solves, and your rookie subordinate will cave if questioned. Now, explain what you meant about Olga."
" ¡Maldita sea! Fucking American cowboy! I don't have to shoot you, cabron. Just her." The wiry man shifted his aim toward Mandy. "I already took care of one foreign puta today. You want I should go for two, no?"
Bruce's bravado melted away as he stepped between Mandy and the gun. "No. We'll come with you." "Yes, you will, señor. But first..." The police officer gathered the bedspread and sheets together on the center of the room's only bed, pulled a small can of lighter fluid from his pocket, and emptied it onto them. Pulling a Zippo lighter from another pocket, he lit them. They caught quickly.
"Oh, what an unfortunate accident. I'm afraid the sprinklers in this portion of the hotel are not working today, either. Now, both of you, walk in front of me to the car. Move!"
Mandy glanced worriedly toward the bathroom, and Bruce risked a whisper. "He'll get out in time." Raising his voice so their captor—and Fili—could hear, he added, "To Olga's office, I assume."
" Sí, señor, that will be our first stop. Now go! It is getting unseasonably warm in here."
In the back of the police car, Mandy's head rested on Bruce's shoulder, her eyes red-rimmed but a determined tension in her shoulders. Bruce's eyes burned with a fire of a different kind.
The car screeched into the museum parking lot and swung around to the back of the building in the twilight. Their antagonist stood, opened the back door, and waved them out with the gun.
"Inside. And no more John Wayne bullshit from you, cowboy. No one is here at this hour, and there is only one reason two Americans would come here. I want the data—the journals she undoubtedly kept—and I want this." He unfolded a faded copy of the same facsimile they'd seen in Santiago. "You will help me find them. You knew her better than you let on; the two concha bitches look like sisters. Go!"
Climbing the stairs leading to the nearest door, Bruce tried the knob. "It's locked."
" ¡Mierda! Back away." Their captor pulled out a key ring and tried various keys until finding a fit.
"Bruce?" Mandy whispered. "That's Olga's. She had it earlier. Oh God, is she really...?" "Afraid so, Man. I don't trust this fucker, but I think that much is the truth." "Shut up, you two! Inside!" Bruce and Mandy walked into something resembling a scene from a gangster movie, in which the mafia had sent a goon to toss the joint. The office was torn apart—desk drawers dumped onto the floor, papers scattered. As Bruce circled the edges of the room, his gaze fell upon a stone replica of a moai—the monolithic statues for which the island was famous. He lifted it and turned to find the gun in his face.
"Put it down, cowboy. I'm not stupid. Over there," he gestured with the gun. "Nothing to throw over there but books, and a book won't stop me from shooting you, cabron." "Where is Olga's computer? She told me everything was on her laptop." Bruce stared at Mandy, trying to conceal his admiration of her quick
thinking. "Ruined. Shattered into a million pieces when the car rolled. She told you
this? What about the statue? I know it came from the gravesite." "Olga never mentioned a statue." Mandy's expression never faltered, her lie
totally convincing. "Then you are useless to me, puta." The cop reached into his pocket and pulled out another gun. "Our time together is at its end. I must say goodbye to you now." "But...you said you still needed us." "You, though lovely, are far too dangerous. I used this gun to make sure your Peruvian friend left this world and will now do the same for you. The cowboy I will shoot with my own weapon. They will believe it. They will love it. Two Americans and a Peruvian slut. They will try for weeks to figure out if he was fucking both of you or even if you were fucking each other, you incestuous bitches. Americans will fuck anything that moves. Such a pity I didn't arrive in time to save you from this cold-blooded murderer. Your precious consulate will do nothing. I have only shot a murderer while attempting to save you." Bruce moved forward and found the officer's firearm in his face. "Don't worry. The bitch won't suffer—a clean kill. And you, señor, will never
know what hit..." The door to the office crashed open and Fili burst in, his shout lost in the roar
of the Colt as the police officer spun and fired. Fili collapsed, clutching his thigh. "Ah, the party is complete. I wondered where you disappeared to, Filimoeika.
Now I have you as well. Adiós, amigo." Mandy capitalized on the diversion and snatched the moai from the desk, tossing it to Bruce. He caught it with one hand and, in the same motion, brought it whistling around to impact on the back of the officer's head with a sickening crunch. "Caught you monologuing, Syndrome."
As their captor crumpled to the floor, both Bruce and Mandy rushed to Fili's side. "Is he dead?"
"No, chica," Fili groaned. "I live—but it hurts like hell. Cono put two bullets in my leg. It won't kill me, which makes me luckier than poor Olga. Her car is halfway between here and her home. I think she was already dead before he shot her. It…the car…rolled many times. The bastard must have cut the brake lines or something."
"Son of a bitch! I'm cuffing this bastard with his own handcuffs. I…." Bruce stopped speaking as he turned around.
Fili sat up with a wince and looked at the crimson stain spreading across
the floor.
"No cuffs will be necessary, señor. But now we must quickly get you off the island. Was it true, what you said about the laptop?"
"No," Mandy admitted. "Everything was at the hotel, in the bathroom where you were hiding."
"Ah, good—then it is now in the back seat of my car. I fear I did not get your luggage, though. Señora, please bring me the phone from the desk. I must arrange for our transportation." Fili immediately picked up the receiver, dialed out, and began speaking very quickly in Spanish.
Mandy turned toward Bruce, who stood staring back and forth between the body on the floor and the moai in his hand. She walked over to him, put her hands on his cheeks, and turned his head to lock his eyes with hers. "Bruce! Look at me. You did what you had to do. You saved Fili's life. You saved my life. Now, quit staring and step away. Drop the moai. I need your help. I need you to get Fili to the car."
"They are ready for us, amigos. We must get to beach at Anakena on the north shore. You will have to carry me out past the break point, but then a launch will pick us up. We must hurry. No time for anything else. I think we should leave one of the discs behind, though, in case this bastard has friends." "We have to call Eduardo...to tell him about…He has to know." "Later, señor. There will be plenty of time. Our journey will take five days. We can use the ship's radio, but it will have to wait until we are safely away—well into our voyage back to the mainland. I am sorry, but it must be so." "Come on, Bruce. You have to carry Fili." Bruce tore his gaze from the scene before him. "I'm coming."
* * *
"Here, señor. Put him on the bunk. Julio will be here soon. We will tend his wounds before we set sail. Give him some of this…and keep some for yourself. I think you need it as much as he does. It is pisco, and it will make him sleep—and you forget."
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