by Linda Wells
The fear of discovery and the magnitude of the event overshadowed the exhilaration at what she had done. But the Director had assured her that she would be protected, and the rewards, on many levels, would be beyond gratifying.
What the Organization Director did not know was that her actions were also driven by a broken heart, which would directly avenge the man who had made many promises to her but had kept none.
.
5
It was in January that Suzy had met him at a dinner, hosted by the Secretary of the Army, at a luxury hotel in Baltimore, overlooking the Inner Harbor. Dr. Chen was in a high-profile position as assistant director of research and development at the Edgewood Laboratories. She was often a guest at formal governmental affairs. Beyond her status and accomplishment, she was a beautiful woman with striking Asian features, long straight black hair, and brown almond-shaped eyes of depth and eroticism. Her intellect, beauty, and reserved demeanor kept men from approaching. She was aloof and strictly professional at work, which heightened her sexual allure. Most of her staff were men, but all knew of her exacting work ethics and dared not cross any lines. She felt isolated, but that was part of the territory. Her level of concentration at work was intense, rendering her unable to be swayed by personal matters, but that did not keep her from being noticed and desired.
One of the service staff found her as she was going into the ladies’ room, across the hall from the formal banquet room. He handed her a folded note. Suzy noted her name, handwritten in what appeared to be strong masculine script on the front. After thanking him, she entered the ladies’ room, curious to know what the note contained.
Her eyes widened as she read the contents and absorbed the meaning. It was an invitation for cocktails in a private suite, here at the hotel, following the dinner. She ran a comb through her silky hair and added some gloss to her lips. She studied herself in the full-length mirror. Her red silk sheath, with mandarin collar, slit up the side, and black stiletto heels were perfect for this unexpected date. She was glad she had dressed in her sexiest red thong panties and bra to match her dress.
Suzy walked through the hotel lobby to the elevators, glad that the dinner had not lasted too long. She had sent the note back to him by one of the waiters, with only one word written on it: “Yes.” She dated infrequently. Most men were hesitant to approach a woman of such mysterious beauty and intellect. Suzy was curious about this man who had attracted her gaze many times in the past. Now she knew he had noticed her as well.
She wasn’t sure what to expect as she got off the elevator on the tenth floor and began walking down the formal carpeted hallway to his suite. He answered, dressed in dark slacks, white dress shirt, and dark gray tie, with his military tie bar as decoration. He was slightly taller than she, five feet nine inches, with muscular build, broad shoulders, and the confident demeanor of an experienced army officer. Lieutenant Colonel Maxwell Graham was well known for his military prowess and competence, not just for his past achievements, but in his current position as special service chief to the Joint Chiefs of Staff. His job was to assist in resolving matters that did not require JCS attention. He was based at Ft. Meade, but was often called to the Pentagon when needed for military updates and foreign policy meetings. He was an expert military strategist, having served in combat in some of the most dangerous special ops in Afghanistan and Iraq.
Colonel Graham warmly welcomed Dr. Chen. She followed him into the plush hotel suite and glanced around as they walked to the bar. The pale golden accents, beige carpet, yellow brocade sofa, and bronze sculpted lamps were elegant. The soft glow of lamplight muted the gold tones. The matching loveseat completed the setting, but her eyes were drawn to her host. This incredibly charming and powerful man intrigued her. His military bearing heightened his masculinity and strength and captivated her. She wondered how it would translate in the bedroom. She needed a man to be her intellectual and sexual equal.
Suzy had seen Max several times from a distance in professional settings. She found him interesting looking, but near him, she could get a better appreciation for his handsome face, strong chin, and penetrating blue eyes. He had brown hair with just a touch of gray and a sexy mouth. She had to maintain a cool detachment and catch her breath.
Graham asked, “Dr. Chen, what would you like to drink?”
She said, “Please call me Suzy, and Grand Marnier, if you have it.”
He said, “Call me Max, and yes, I will have the same. It is my favorite aperitif.”
After pouring their amber-colored drinks, he led her to the glass sliding doors that opened onto a balcony overlooking the Inner Harbor. The crisp, cool air smelled of the harbor, and the twinkling lights of the yachts reflecting off the water were beautiful.
Savoring her drink, “How lovely it is here,” she observed, turning toward Max.
“Suzy, you are much lovelier, and thank you for joining me at the last minute. I have seen you several times at various meetings and at Aberdeen, but missed the chance to meet you. Your work is outstanding, from those I know at the APG. You are a biochemist?”
“Yes, Max.”
The conversation flowed from there. He told her about his career history, where he had been stationed, and other details of his military life. He had attended the US Military Academy at West Point, as his father had, and become an army officer. He had achieved his goals and was committed to the values taught there— Duty, Honor, and Country. He had graduated as a second lieutenant and achieved greater responsibilities as he moved up in rank.
Suzy was fascinated and couldn’t take her eyes off Max, preoccupied with feelings she couldn’t describe. She didn’t know if he felt the same distraction. He asked how she had chosen her field. Suzy began, saying her father was American and her mother Chinese and her parents had met when her father had traveled on business to Hong Kong. Her mother had taught music in Beijing before she was allowed to move to Hong Kong. Chinese society had allowed more freedoms then, and she was finally able to get a visa to come to the United States, where her parents were married. Her father was a chemistry professor at the University of Delaware, and Suzy, an only child, doted on by both parents, had learned ambition and hard work from them.
Max asked, “Why the Chinese last name?”
She said it was more of who she was and took her mother’s maiden name as her own surname.
They were seeing only each other, as each word was spoken, and nothing else. Suzy was caught off guard when Max put his drink on the railing, and with his strong arms holding her so close against him, he looked down into her eyes. She felt herself melting into him. He gave her a soft kiss that became deep and wet. His body pushed against hers, and his tongue and mouth captured hers. Her fragrance was enticing, the scent pulling him to her, her body so desirable, he had to be closer to her. Her mouth responded, her body against his, and nothing else mattered. She wanted this man, as no other. Their attraction was startling, and they couldn’t let go of each other. He encircled her, enveloped her, and she surrendered, leaning into him, her mouth open to his, every inch of their bodies touching.
He took her hand, no words spoken, and led her from the balcony to the bedroom, unfastening his tie as he went. Only one small lamp glowed in the corner of the room as he pulled her to the bed. He wrapped his arms tightly around her and began kissing her again. Without taking his mouth off hers, he unzipped her beautiful dress, while Suzy unbuttoned his shirt. Their kisses were deep and wet, their breathing heavy. Her hands touched his muscular chest, and her arms were around his neck. God, what was happening to her? Her dress slid to her ankles, and she gasped as he unfastened her bra. Max licked and gave lingering kisses to her delicate, perfectly proportioned breasts. Her dark nipples contrasted with her alabaster skin, and their taste turned him on. His mouth moved downward, his tongue tracing a line to the lacy edge of her red thong panties. He kept caressing her breasts, making Suzy feel out of control. Her pearlescent skin was beautiful. He began kissing her mouth as Suzy f
elt him hard against her. She began touching him, wanting him. He took his shirt and pants off, throwing them on the floor by her dress. Suzy and Max collapsed onto the bed, and he took her panties off and slid his tongue into her warm secret place. Her taste excited him, and she responded without any restraint. He undressed fully, spread her legs, and began rubbing his hardness against her opening, kissing her breasts, her mouth, loving her taste. He couldn’t get enough of her. The warmth of his mouth on her nipples made her want him even more.
He touched her, his hand between her legs, his fingers exploring her, both wanting more, but she pushed him away, grasped him, and began licking and sucking his full male hardness, wanting and needing him inside of her. He couldn’t wait any longer. He had to have her. Now. He entered her and gently but rhythmically made love to her. He was an adept lover and Suzy was craving his every move, every caress, every kiss, feeling his strong masculine chest against her breasts. She clung to him, feeling no inhibitions, only longing. He was part of her, his power lunging into her; holding her beautiful ass, he was pulling her against him with each thrust. Her heart pounded as his exquisite cock filled her, making her fall into the hypnotic trance of passionate love, and she began to moan, very low, whispering, “Max, oh Max,” and he couldn’t stop until they both came, his warmth flowing into her, neither thinking of anything but the now, this moment, and never wanting it to end.
.
6
Joey got to the Subway Office, Upper West Side, by 6:15 a.m. He had about fifteen minutes to spare. He clocked in and said good morning to the station manager.
“Hi, Marty,” he said to his boss, who was sitting at his desk, head down, shoulders hunched, staring at his computer screen.
Joey wasn’t sure how old Marty was, probably mid-fifties, but he knew the hours were long and Marty could get pretty stressed out. He complained a lot about the constant bureaucratic bullshit emails and endless reports he had to complete. Five maintenance staff worked this station and Marty had to write up any and all out of the ordinary events that occurred, plus maintain schedules for two other stations as well. When summer vacations started, his work load would get worse, but Joey and the other guys liked Marty and put up with his attitude. He and Marty were good friends and Joey knew Marty relied on him when any problem cropped up.
“How was your weekend?” Joey asked Marty.
Marty said, “The usual, how was yours?” Marty wasn’t much for small talk, but was an okay boss. He left Joey alone, knowing Joey was a responsible guy. He had to ride several of the others, so Joey did pretty well, just showing up and being there on time. Plus Joey didn’t miss much, keeping his eye on the crowds, the rails, and keeping the place swept and orderly.
“It was a good weekend,” Joey answered. “Did you see the game last night? Unbelievable. I didn’t think they would win, and then Jeter hit it out of the park. The Yankees may have a chance to win the pennant this year.”
Marty said, “Yeah, loved the game, but fell asleep after the seventh inning. Crap! I hate when I do that. Then I miss the best part. At least they won. I hate waking up to a blowout.”
Joey put his lunch in his locker, poured some coffee into a Styrofoam cup, and then sat down in one of the chairs at the lunch table. He didn’t have much time, but needed a bit more coffee to get him started.
“Sure is a hot June,” Joey observed. “If the whole summer is like this, the city is going to be miserable, and the passengers are going to be a pain in the ass. It’s going to mean more trouble with gang bangers and robberies and God knows what.”
Marty said, “We just have to rely on the cops, and if you see anything out of the ordinary, just radio for help, and you’ll get back up fast. The cops are always on patrol at most of the stations.”
Joey said, “Yeah, I know, but five minutes can be a long time when I am in a face-off with a gang of punks and I don’t have jack for protection.”
Marty understood fully. Joey had been in several tussles with purse snatchers, drug users, and other assholes causing trouble. The police were diligent, but shit happens fast, and Joey knew it. He was a big guy though and had confidence. Other maintenance staff began to arrive as Joey finished his coffee. He headed out of the gray door that would take him to the steps leading to the platform. “Hey, fellas,” and a few “Monday morning” comments were made in passing.
It was early, but that gave him some time to sweep, empty the trash bins, and do his routine safety check before crowds got really heavy. It was boring at times, but he liked staying busy and knew it was an important job. Anything thrown on the rails could be trouble, and he didn’t want a problem on his watch.
Joey headed up the stairs to the platform from the lower level. At least it was a cool place to work, out of the summer heat.
People were milling around, waiting for the next car.
“Another day at the salt mines,” he thought.
.
7
The phone call came in to the main switchboard at the Manhattan Field Office of the FBI at exactly 8:00 a.m. that Monday morning. The call had been recorded, and the alert operator immediately informed her ranking supervisor, who contacted Special Agent Georgiana Reed. The NYC subway system was the target of a possible terrorist threat. The source was unknown, possibly a hoax, but all threatening calls were taken seriously.
Agent Reed reacted immediately and picked up the phone to call her partner, Mark Strickland. “Come to my office right away, Mark.”
Georgiana’s tone made it clear that this was no ordinary bullshit session. Mark was a fairly new agent at the Manhattan Field Office, early into his second year with the FBI, but he had ten years of experience on the NYPD. Georgiana recognized him as a proven asset and they worked well together. She felt lucky to have him as a partner.
When she and Mark listened to the playback, the menacing call sounded like the real deal, and George, as her staff called her, knew instinctively not to let this one pass.
The muffled male voice made it brief, uttering one sentence: “Subway hit today.” The trace was to a public telephone in downtown Manhattan.
“Damn,” she said, under her breath, looking at Mark.
They listened to the recording several times. George knew that the public telephone would offer no useful information, but she had to check it out anyway.
Georgiana was a tall, attractive redhead with green eyes. She was well known for her serious, take no shit attitude. An expert marksman, her Glock never left her hip. Both she and Mark were single, somewhat friendly, but stayed focused on their jobs. She met Mark when he was assigned to be her partner and liked him immediately. In fact, she liked him too much. She kept her feelings buried and maintained a strictly professional attitude toward him.
Georgiana was divorced, no kids, and had leftover scars from her brief marriage. She and Denny had been high school sweethearts and were still going together in college. He was the love of her life, but when George found out he had gone out with another girl, she was crushed and broke up with him. Several years after graduation, they ran into each other and reconnected. She fell for him again. She had never really gotten over him. They soon became engaged, and everything felt so right. He had a business degree, plus an MBA, and was working in marketing for a large corporation. George had a degree in criminal justice and was in training at the FBI when they got married. Everything felt so perfect, and she loved him with all of her heart and soul, but it hadn’t taken long for her to realize he was the same old Denny. She had been in denial at first. He had to travel frequently on company business, and all the signs were there. After an ugly confrontation, he admitted he had been with someone else. His assertion that it meant nothing to him didn’t work for her. The marriage was over. She hoped the right man would come along some day. She put the job first and kept relationships on an impersonal level. Being a “loner” worked best for her, but in her heart, she needed love. For now, work filled the gaps.
Mark was single and didn’t
have much free time to date. His career was foremost right now, but he wanted marriage and a family someday. Being an agent was a high-risk profession requiring a lot of overtime hours. It would take the right woman to put up with the demands of his job. He was tall with dark brown hair and a dark shadow of beard. He trained hard to stay in shape, a habit he learned while working on the force.
His sexy appearance had not escaped George’s notice. She sensed that he liked her but had to maintain a barrier. She often wondered how it would feel to have him hold her, but she forced herself “not to go there.” It was at night, though, when she was struggling to fall asleep and feeling alone, that she imagined someone in bed next to her, holding her. In those moments, the only man she ever envisioned next to her was Mark.
.
8
Maggie entered Century Air crew scheduling, said hi to the guys as she signed in for Flight 227, and then went into the adjoining flight attendants’ lounge. The chairs were full with FA’s between flights or waiting out delays. She was an hour ahead of departure and saw the other four flight attendants from 227 had already checked in.
“Hey, Jackie, Mary Ann, how did your weekends go?” Maggie asked of both.
“Very hot but I enjoyed the days off,” said Jackie.
“Me, too,” said Mary Ann.
Maggie waved hello to the other crew members, Justin and Terry, who were also working 227.
After a quick chat, Maggie went into the supervisor’s office to talk with Laura Cameron. She was not just her manager but a friend as well. She and Maggie had known each other for the ten years Maggie had flown for Century. Both had been around long enough to see many flight attendants come and go. Some flew only a few years and then left to get married or got tired of the pace.