Sexpionage

by Lesley E. Hal

  Jordan followed behind me. “You have to learn the business if you’re going to be a part of it. Nothing is simple when it comes to what I do.”

  After pouring a glass of orange juice and taking a huge gulp, I pulled a breakfast bowl out of the freezer and popped it into the microwave. “I’m not looking to get technical, so it shouldn’t matter.”

  Jordan took the glass from me, and finished the juice off. “You have a right to be as involved as you want, but don’t pull another stunt like you did last night just because I have another woman working with me. She’s not the only one—just so you know from here on out.”

  With my left hand resting on my hip, I leaned on the counter. “Speaking of other women, are you going to tell me who she is?”

  Jordan ran his hand over his head. “I told you who she was last night. If you forgot, then I’m sorry.”

  I drew in a deep breath about to blow my top, but calmed myself just as quickly. “If you had told me, I damn sure wouldn’t have forgotten.”

  Jordan laughed as he left me in the kitchen when the microwave beeped. “That’s another thing; nothing is repeated more than once, especially identities,” he called over his shoulder.

  Chapter 11

  Later that night, I waited for Jordan to wrap up a phone call. When he was done, he sat next to me on the sofa and pulled my feet into his lap. I was nursing a glass of Cabernet after a few rounds of marathon sex that was concluded on the floor.

  “So?”

  Jordan exhaled loudly, probably wondering if he should give me the extended version or not. “Things are coming together better than I would’ve ever imagined. There’s a very high-profile wedding in two weeks. The security is going to be insane, but that won’t be a problem for us.”

  “Why would we care about security if we’re attending a wedding?”

  “Because we’re not attending to offer well-wishes; we’re going to score.”

  I looked at Jordan knowing I should’ve known better. “Besides the ring, what could you possibly want from a wedding?”

  Jordan placed my feet on the sofa and stood. “Since it’s for a prominent family like the Wangs, it’s going to be a who’s who type of event. It will be a media circus and everyone will come wearing nothing but the best jewels—for starters. However, the bride’s ring is my primary target, but not more so than the purchaser of it, which will be her father-in-law. It’s more about what it represents than its value.”

  I laughed at Jordan’s reason for pulling a heist at a wedding. “No one could’ve told me that Jordan Lei has a sentimental bone in his body. Did the ring belong to someone you hold dear?”

  The look on his face was not one of amusement. “Elizabeth Taylor’s jewelry collection set an unprecedented record of being auctioned off as the highest in history for Christie’s. The Joie De Vivre diamond sold for over eight million dollars to a private Chinese collector. He’s giving the ring to his son to present to his bride. Once I have the ring in my possession, he’s going to show his hand because of his pride. Which is what I want him to do so that I’ll be able to finally settle another old score.”

  I needed a refill because this was too much to handle in the course of a day. First, the Louvre, now a damned wedding; this guy seriously needed a vacation. After refreshing my drink, and bringing him a glass, we resumed our conversation.

  “This is the second old score of the day, Jordan. What did this collector person do to you?”

  Jordan didn’t answer me. Instead, he went into my office to his laptop. I joined him to see what he was up to.

  “I asked you a question.”

  He continued setting up his computer by fitting it with other hardware that I wasn’t familiar with. “I’m getting my team together. You’ll know more the day of.” And with the wave of a hand, I was dismissed.

  • • •

  From the wedding, I learned about Jordan and his “connections.” The security detail for the wedding was going to be bananas like he’d said, but what he didn’t disclose was that he was the one providing it. When protection was hired, an interview was conducted at AHS Protection Agency. The collector’s people came to finalize the paper work and to see if the company was up to his high standards. A dummy office was set up on another floor. Before a face to face, the calls were intercepted and rerouted. The real AHS Protection Agency was never notified of the job, so that would be their argument. It would stick because when the phone records were examined, it would show that no contact was ever made relieving them of all liability. The owner of the company owed Jordan a favor and was only too glad to return it. I never knew what the score was that Jordan had to settle, until things were set in motion.

  • • •

  “The Wang wedding is still under investigation, especially since the insurance on that ring is substantial. I had no idea that The Tarantula, ahem . . . Jordan, was in on it. When I spoke with Mr. Wang, he wasn’t of much help, but now I see why. AHS Protection Agency looks like they’re going to be cleared of any involvement from what I was told by the investigator at the insurance company that provided coverage for the ring. The insurance money will be at least three times more than what he paid for it since the owners were such iconic figures.” Agent Garza got up and walked around in a circle mumbling to himself. “Since Mr. Wang isn’t cooperating, I can only assume that he’s going after Jordan to get his ring and will still receive a nice payday in the process. I can’t see him letting the insurance company know if he does succeed in getting it back.” He paced some more. “Now I’m starting to get the information that I’ve been looking for. Ms. Brooks, you may proceed.”

  “I’m glad.” I was relieved that I was making some leeway.

  Chapter 12

  Day of the Wedding

  Two Weeks Later

  The wedding was going according to plan. Guests arrived dressed to the nines and wearing valuable jewels that were insured and normally locked away in a vault for safekeeping. Everyone that was anyone was invited to celebrate the marriage of Da-Xia Qian, and Ming-Hua Wang. I wore a red, bob-styled wig, an earpiece, black skirt suit with a white button-down shirt and six-inch Louboutins. The guys were all dressed in black suits with their guns concealed behind their jackets, dark shades and earpieces. We all looked like a part of the Secret Service.

  Per the request of the family, cell phones and other electronic equipment were not permitted inside of the church. The guests had to pass through metal detectors and other security measures before even being allowed inside. Who were these people that they needed all of this protection, and at a church of all places? I asked Jordan when we were going over the job and he told me that they were very important and wouldn’t give me any more than that.

  Since the break of dawn, I played my part as personal security for the bride. I had no idea that a Chinese wedding was an all-day event. On the day of the wedding, both families performed a hair dressing and capping ritual for both the bride and the groom. Then the groom, along with servants, musicians and others, came to the bride’s home, which was decorated in red, to play the door game. Since I was the bride’s personal guard, I was already there with a few other “security” personnel. Following tradition, when the groom arrived, the bride’s friends tried to prevent him from getting inside the house. I was glad that Jordan had informed me of everything because I wouldn’t have expected any of this and would’ve blown our cover. The groom claimed his bride, gave gifts to the family and then took her back to his home that was also decorated in red for the tea ceremony with his parents. There were a host of other traditions to follow, and it’s a very detailed and organized event down to the wedding night and the following three days afterward. Before the ceremony even began, I was in need of a strong and serious drink, straight up with no chaser, with all of the hoopla that was going on.

  The wedding was performed in keeping with Chinese custom, but was preceded by the writing of three letters and then followed up by the six etiquettes. From what I’d lear
ned from Jordan, it’s a very long courtship that’s prearranged by both families. The colors in the church for the nuptials were very vibrant as was the bride as she stood elegantly in her red gown. The priest conducted the vows in both English and Chinese. Had I been there under legitimate circumstances, I would’ve really enjoyed the ceremony. As the service progressed, I was beginning to wonder why in the hell was I even there. I hadn’t seen Jordan since he’d left me the previous night.

  After reciting the vows in Chinese, he then said, “Da-Xia Qian, do you take Ming-Hua Wang to be your lawful husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"

  “I do,” the bride professed lovingly.

  The priest then said a blessing over the wedding bands. “And now the rings.” The couple was about to exchange them when suddenly, the priest reached over and snatched the groom’s hand and took the ring before he could put it on his bride’s finger. In one swift motion, he tore off a facial mask that resembled an older Chinese man and his clerical collar that had a voice scrambler attached to it. People began screaming as gunshots were fired into the ceiling of the cathedral.

  He pulled a gun out of his robe and held it up high for everyone to see. “Listen, nobody moves, nobody gets hurt. Do as you’re told and you’ll leave the way you came, less a few items, of course.” He looked around with his eyes coming to a stop, resting on the father of the groom. “If you think you want to be a hero, go ahead and try. We’re already in a church; we can easily arrange for this to go from being a wedding to a funeral . . . easily.”

  The groom stood frozen at the altar. His bride cried hysterically while I relieved her of all the jewels that she was wearing. The father, whom I assumed to be The Collector, recognized Jordan and immediately shouted out.

  “Unfortunately for me, I spared you once too many, but trust me when I say, that I will not make the same mistake of allowing you to continue to draw breath. You will not continue to defy me and on this day of all days.” He had to catch his breath and wipe the spittle from his mouth. “You . . . imbecile! You’re like the one you called father and that ha guay (nigger) you had for a mother!” His face was filled with rage, but he dared not get up from the pew he was sitting on since he had a gun being aimed directly at his head.

  Jordan, unfazed by the threat, walked over to the older gentleman, and punched him in the face. His wife begged for Jordan not to hurt her husband. He snatched the old man up by the lapels of his suit. “That’s the spirit, old man. I saved you the trouble of wondering so you’ll know exactly who to come looking for.” Jordan roughly shoved him back down onto the pew. His wife instantly went to his aid to comfort him while crying and speaking something that I couldn’t decipher in her native tongue.

  “This is not over, chigger (chink/nigger)!” The Collector said sternly to Jordan’s back before going into a coughing fit.

  Jordan turned around facing him again. “Of course it’s not, but by the time this chigger is done with you, you’re going to wish it was.”

  The Collector screamed obscenities at his back as he walked off.

  The rest of the “security” team worked feverishly relieving the attendees of their precious jewels. On the outside, sirens could be heard. The media that were waiting in the wings for the first snapshot of the couple must’ve heard the gunshots and pandemonium that was taking place inside. I was nervous wondering how we were going to get away, but Jordan didn’t break a sweat. I’m sure the church was surrounded as I wondered again, why I was there.

  Jordan must’ve noticed the signs of panic on my face when he massaged my shoulders to assure me that everything was going to be OK. Before having me to follow one of the “security” members, he took the jewels I had taken from the bride and the rest of the wedding party. He took special care of the diamond ring and kept it with him. We went to the back of the church where I was given a backless red dress, another wig and other accessories to look the part of a guest attending the wedding.

  “Take off every other stitch of clothing you remove and place them inside of this bag,” a short, stocky guy that was holding a bag out in front of me ordered.

  When I was done, I handed the bag containing the discards to the same man who had given it to me. I noticed that we all were dressed like the rest of the people in the church and would blend in effortlessly. There were threats being made to the congregation, but I wondered by whom, because all of the “security” was accounted for. Jordan was already dressed and was being fitted with another prosthetic. This time he looked like an older, but distinguished black man with salt-and-pepper sideburns.

  “Okay. Let’s do this,” I said.

  The next thing I heard was complete chaos. People were screaming and the commotion was so overwhelming that I reacted like a deer caught in headlights. I was pushed forward by one of the “security” personnel from the back of the church and into the stampede that was started as if out of the blue. We all became actors running for their lives with the rest of the people. The police instructed the crowd to the side of the church while other law enforcement stormed the cathedral after making sure everyone was out. There were cops, SWAT, firemen and ambulances everywhere.

  My nerves made me a very believable character when the police asked if I’d been hurt. “My jewelry! They took my jewelry!” I cried while being led over to a section where statements were being taken from everyone.

  Once I was no longer being watched, I slipped off to the designated location where Jordan was nearby waiting for me in a red Ferrari 458 Italia.

  Chapter 13

  On the ride home, Jordan was silent, and appeared to be fuming about something. I didn’t care to know what it was, so long as I got home and back to resuming my life as a law-abiding citizen. When we got to my house, Jordan whipped the car into my driveway and revved the engine. I took that as a sign that he wasn’t in the mood to talk and to get out.

  I opened the door to do just that when Jordan hit the steering wheel repeatedly. “Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!”

  I turned around to see what the uproar was about. “What’s wrong?”

  Tears were in his eyes when he looked over at me. “Nothing. I’ll talk to you later.”

  I sat a minute longer, deciding that now wouldn’t be the time to probe him with the numerous questions that I needed answered. The moment I stepped out and was at a safe distance, he burnt rubber trying to get out of my cul-de-sac.

  After a long, leisurely shower, to wash away the day’s event, I made a hot cup of tea with a lemon wedge and honey in order to have a relaxing evening. Everything was fine, until I turned on the television and saw that the wedding was breaking news. I watched intently to see if they had any suspects. Surprisingly, the only lead they had was AHS Protection Agency who had been advised by their attorneys to reserve comment. The consensus was that it was as if the guests had been robbed by ghosts posed as security that vanished into thin air. With that bit of news, I was finally able to take a deep breath, but I still couldn’t relax. Damn it, my tea was now cold.

  A Week Later

  In Amsterdam, at a coffeehouse that also served other specialty items, Easter sat with a man he had idolized since learning about him years earlier. The guest of honor was surrounded by a flock of bodyguards, more than what Easter had at his disposal. He made a mental note to get him a few more men to watch his back. For the longest time, no words were spoken, at least not to Easter as the man drank his java and smoked on a special cigarette that was still illegal in some parts of the States. He puffed on his stick enjoying the feeling that was overtaking him. He gestured it toward Easter, who eagerly took a long-winded pull and immediately began to choke. His guard patted his back making Easter feel inadequate in front of whom he considered as close to royalty as he would ever get. The man’s eyes held amusement at the scene playing out in front of him, while his lips never cracked a smile. Easter held up his hand signaling for th
e man to stop beating him on the back.

  Once the cigarette was consumed, the reason they were there commenced. “I understand you have a strong dislike for a certain spider,” the man spoke with a heavy accent.

  Easter adjusted himself in his seat which was hard to do since his feet barely touched the resting point. His Stacy Adams kept slipping making it hard for him to catch a firm grip which was the root of his seating issue due to its height. He adjusted the jacket of his black leather suit with snakeskin patches that had him sweating up a storm, but he tried to play it cool.

  “If The Tarantula is the spider you speak of, then I would love nothing more than to squash him with my bare hands,” he responded while dabbing at his drenched brow with a handkerchief held between his slender, delicate, ladylike fingers.

  The man looked at Easter’s small, ladylike hands, shook his head, and had one of his guards to light him another special cigarette. He dismissed his talk about squashing The Tarantula. That was a task that the tiny man would never be able to live up to. “I hear that you have other business that I would be interested in—yes.”

  Easter looked around and leaned in just in case someone was lurking. “Yes, I have in my possession the original blueprints for the Musée du Louvre. I understand that you like collecting rare treasures, hence the name.”

  The man rubbed his chin in deep thought, pulled on his smoke and exhaled before answering. “Nothing gets by you, I see; smart man you are.” The sarcasm was lost on Easter as he puffed his chest out with pride. “Hmm . . . Musée du Louvre, a big order to fill.” He took another toke from his cigarette and blew smoke in Easter’s direction. “I’ve never met such a little man with such big ambition. I like that. No room for error!” His voice rose a few octaves, then went back to its regular level. “You do know that punishment for betraying me is how you say . . . merciless.”