Sexpionage

by Lesley E. Hal

  Sledge was dressed as a tourist wearing a backpack. He also sported Justin Bieber’s old look with a windswept-styled wig and dork glasses. He was leaning back on his chair swigging on a warm beer that he’d been nursing since the meeting started. “I can handle that.” His reply was a little too nonchalant for my taste, but who was I to make any noise.

  Jordan’s attention lingered on Sledge a little longer before continuing. “Snake, you’re with me in the foxhole.” Lastly, he pointed at me. “Bianca, you’ll be assisting and working the slider camera to see what’s happening on the other side of that door while we’re in,” he concluded.

  I didn’t want to appear stupid by asking what he meant by a foxhole, especially in front of that bitch. “Okay.”

  “Does anyone have any questions?” He looked around at the four faces at the table. When there was no response from us, he clapped his hands loudly. “Okay, let’s get to it.”

  Everyone checked their weapons and other equipment to make sure everything was in order. The rest of us were all dressed in black fitted clothes, but the stretch cotton material made them comfortable. Since we knew there would be a retina scan, Jordan wore the contact lenses that duplicated Easter’s to a tee.

  In the bathroom and sitting at the vanity, I pulled my hair into a tight chignon with no loose strands and finished off my look by applying the deepest of red matte lipstick. I sat a moment longer looking at my reflection in the mirror and wondering who was the girl staring back at me. Since meeting Jordan, I’d compromised my integrity by engaging in illegal activities that I never would’ve thought of otherwise. Humiliated. Disrespected. Now physically abused, but yet here I was once again rising to his occasion. Maybe Reggie was right; maybe I didn’t have a backbone.

  Chapter 23

  The Take

  Easter, like most height-challenged men, loved nothing more than having a tall, modelesque beauty to flaunt around on his arm. As predicted, Easter was only too glad to see that the beautiful Giovanna was interested in him the day they’d locked eyes on one another while dining at Le Clos des Gourmets. Giovanna had received a bottle of what she was drinking, compliments of Easter. To show a token of her appreciation, she’d invited him over to her table where they’d enjoyed each other’s company over wine and delectable French cuisines. After their brief encounter, they had become inseparable ever since.

  Fast-forward to two months later, Easter was to escort Giovanna to L’Opéra Bastille to celebrate her birthday. The spoiled beauty wanted to attend a ballet and much to Easter’s loathing of all things opera, he knew he had to grant her wish if he wanted to remain on her good side. Sledge reported back to Jordan that the limo had just left Café de la Paix where they’d had dinner and was en route to the opera house.

  Jordan looked at each of us signaling showtime. Snake and Jordan activated the circular saw that in a few swift circular rounds was able to get through the layers of the floor faster due to the compression that was done earlier. Afterward, they removed the circular cut just big enough for us to fit through in the ceiling. I waited for them to hand each other the equipment needed. Snake was the first one in to make sure it was OK for us to follow. Next, Jordan reached out for me as I climbed the ladder and joined Snake. Following hand signals, Seven removed the ladder and went back to her post at the bank of computer monitors.

  Snake and Jordan communicated via sign language and Seven transmitted back to me through the bluetooth as she watched them from the monitors made possible by another camera identical to the one that I was using.

  Per Seven’s instructions, I was to stick the almost invisible camera unit that was attached to a thin see-through, cylindrical tube through the bottom of the door. The video surveillance allowed me to see everything that was going on within the perimeter of the room outside of where we were. I watched to see what the guards in place were up to and caught a visual of them sitting on the same sofa that I was on during my visit. They were engrossed in what was on television. I gave a thumbs-up to Jordan and Snake to proceed.

  Snake handed Jordan a transparent sheet that had two handprints. He carefully placed each fingertip to the film and allowed his body heat to lift each print. Once he had a print lifted onto his fingertip, Snake would carefully make sure it lined up with his finger pads precisely by using a thin instrument that he dipped in a solution. This made the prints mold to Jordan’s hands perfectly and undetectable. Snake then fastened a pin light on to a contraption that Jordan was wearing on his head. After he was set, Jordan plugged in the code that he’d deciphered from the embedded detectors on the blueprints. I waited patiently as they worked feverishly to get inside of the safe.

  According to Jordan, they only had one time to try the number before a silent alarm would go off and alert a device that he was sure that Easter kept on him. Jordan passed the retina and fingerprint scans without any problem, but the number code wasn’t as simple. Instead of risking it by trying another sequence, Snake took out another device while Jordan put on some special-looking glasses with a magnifying glass hanging over them and the pen light. I wanted to laugh. He resembled something out of a space movie, but I knew we had to be as quiet as possible.

  Jordan and Snake worked in synch. He aimed the pen light at the center while drilling a small hole near the dial. He then accepted the two-way solenoid injection valve from Snake and began slowly pumping in liquid CO2 to offset the burn mechanism and freeze the safe’s contents. To make sure he was on point, he peered inside the dial through the hole made and lined up the three wheels. Just then, I noticed movement on the camera and watched as one of the guards came toward the door of the room. I held up my hand for all action to cease.

  The man stopped in front of the door and called over his shoulder. “Say, Reese, what the fuck you think he got in here anyway?”

  “Hell if I know,” he said from his spot on the couch. “Don’t touch that door. It wouldn’t surprise me if that runt has an alarm on it. You see the fancy bio lock system he has? Easter, the little midget bastard, trusts no one. I say the best way to get in is when he goes in. After the way he treated Sal in Amsterdam, I’d say the maggot has it coming.”

  He stared at the door a moment longer. “Hey, what’s this?” He bent down to check what I assume to be the tubing to the camera. I began perspiring. Jordan and Snake drew their weapons ready to open fire.

  “Say Al, the game’s back on!” the other man shouted.

  Relieved, I lightly exhaled when he started to gradually back away from the door. Beads of nervous sweat collected on my forehead. I waited until he was occupied by the television again before letting my hand drop. Jordan immediately went back to working the safe.

  A few minutes later, I heard a click. The men’s faces lit up when they made eye contact. I wanted to see what was going on, but had to watch the video monitor. Snake helped Jordan with the vault’s door.

  When it was fully opened, I almost dropped the video monitor when I saw a pallet holding gold bricks sitting in the center of the safe. “Oh my God,” I whispered.

  “Compose yourself, Bianca. I need you to keep your eyes on your targets while I work the shipment below,” Seven said in my ear. The sweat from before instantly dried when a blast of cold air coming from inside the safe chilled the room.

  Snake opened up one of the bags they’d brought up and took out something folded and black. He went to the hole and gave some hand signals before letting it unroll. Snake fastened the end that he was holding onto some hooks. Seven worked on the other end from the inside of our apartment. He tossed Jordan a pair of really thick gloves from the bag and then he put on some. Jordan and Snake worked diligently moving the iced bricks and letting them slide one at a time down the chute. Transporting the gold took a little over four minutes. Next to follow were a few cylinders and two silver cases.

  Once the safe was cleaned out with the exception of the blueprints, Jordan went in the bag and pulled out the 1953 Playboy issue with Marilyn Monroe on the cover and l
eft it in the safe. When given the signal, I slowly pulled the tubing from under the door and wrapped it around the monitor that I was holding. The darn thing slipped out of my hands and went crashing to the floor. Jordan’s and Snake’s eyes shot straight at me. I stood still wearing a look of shock and fear.

  Jordan picked up the camera and guided me toward the hole where the ladder had replaced the chute.

  “Go down,” Jordan whispered to me. They took out their guns and trained them on the door and waited.

  Meanwhile, the Bitch helped me off the ladder. “What’s going on?” she asked.

  “I accidentally dropped the camera.”

  Her eyes grew as big as saucers as she grabbed her hair. “Oh shit! Did they hear you?” she asked urgently while pacing and running her hands through her hair.

  I shook my head and hunched my shoulders when Snake startled us by coming down the ladder. “Well?” Seven ran over to him.

  He threw the gloves on the floor and calmed her by placing his hands on Seven’s shoulders. “Not a peep.” Snake then helped Jordan with the other equipment they took up with them. They then repaired the ceiling using the original cutout.

  Once they were done, Jordan went over and examined the neatly stacked bars of gold. “Let me see . . .” Jordan took in the sight of the pallet and mentally calculated the tally. “Thirteen across, four high and four deep. I’d say we’re looking at 208 bricks valued at about 237 million or so easily.” He then picked one up and nearly toppled over with laughter.

  Alarmed, Snake ran over. “Is something wrong?”

  Jordan stopped laughing long enough to swipe at a tear. “Read this.” He pointed to the side of the glistening bar.

  “Krung Thep?” He looked confused watching Jordan continuing to keel over. “I don’t get it, man.”

  “Krung Thep! In Thai, it means ‘Bangkok,’ also known as ‘City of Angels.’ ” He laughed again. This time Snake joined in just catching on to whatever it was that Jordan was getting at. “This is what we were after in Bangkok; well, at least half of it. I told you Easter had set us up, and I bet Vicente and Antonio got the bulk of it.”

  Snake picked up the case and saw that it was guarded by a bio lock as well. Jordan went over and used Easter’s fingerprints that were still on the pads of his fingers to open both cases.

  “Now that’s sexy,” he said, examining the contents. “U.S. Treasury certificates in bearer form with the coupons attached.” Jordan thumbed through the pages.

  “No, my friend, sexy is over here!” Snake pulled out a painting from one of the cylinders. “That bastard had Armando Modigliani’s Woman with Mirror in his possession. I thought he was lying about the gallery heist last—let’s see what the other two are.” Seven and Jordan had already beat him to the punch.

  “Oh my God . . . Fernand Levar’s Life Under a Chandelier.” Seven gasped at the masterpiece she’d just unveiled.

  “Matissio’s Pope,” Jordan followed.

  Snake quickly rolled his painting and put it back inside the safety of the cylinder. “What was he planning to do with these? Selling them is out of the question unless you want to get caught.”

  “The Collector,” Jordan said more to himself than anyone, causing Snake to look over at him with a puzzled look on his face.

  “The who?” Seven blurted out which let me know that I was right in not revealing what I knew to Snake about The Collector. He may have known of him, but he sure as hell didn’t know that Jordan was gunning for him.

  Instead of answering, Jordan busied himself with getting things ready to go. “Sledge and the Kids will be here to clean this space within the hour. We need to get to the shop as soon as possible.”

  Chapter 24

  After leaving the safe house, we drove to the Golden Triangle area, which was not too far from Trocadéro. I could still see views of the Eiffel Tower, and it gave me a sense of peace in all of this cloak and dagger business that I was engaging in. We arrived at a beautiful chateau that was sitting on many acres coupled with the Seine River serving as its backdrop. The moment we stepped out of the car, a gorgeous man, who could’ve easily passed for a woman, was waiting.

  He ran to greet Jordan by kissing him on both sides of his face. “Pierre a été de mourir pour savoir si vous étiez en mesure d’accomplir la mission.” (Pierre has been dying to know if you were able to accomplish the mission.)

  Jordan eyed the man before answering. “Good to see you too, Étienne.” Then he immediately started speaking in French. “Peut-on discuter de ce que nous sommes-nous inside?” (Can we discuss that once we’re inside?) He patted him on his back. “Pourquoi ne pas vous être accueillant envers vos invités et laissez-moi gérer et d’affaires Pierre. Okay!” (Why not be friendly to your guest and let me handle business, Pierre.)

  The man shook his head. “Mais oui . . . bien sûr.” (But yes, of course) He greeted each of us with kisses to both sides of our faces before leading us into the house.

  Once we were in, another man was coming down one side of a winding, double staircase that reminded me of something out of Gone with the Wind. He wore his shirt unbuttoned revealing a hairy chest and gold chains. He was of average height, muscular, cropped haircut, piercing green eyes, very tanned and for the most part, decent-looking, if you took away the ode-to-the-‘70s look he had going. The prissy fellow who met us as we got out of the car hurriedly rushed over to the man kissing him fervently.

  The man who just ascended the stairs finished his tongue session with his lover and held his hands up. “Jordan!” he spoke with a thick accent.

  Jordan did the same. “Pierre! I told you the only way I would be paying you a visit while on your home turf was as if.”

  His eyes gleamed over as he rubbed his goatee. “Si je comprends bien everythig s’est déroulé selon vos plans? Oui?” (I take it everything went according to your plans! Yes?) He spoke quickly.

  Jordan laughed. “I would say everything went accordingly, and we even got a couple of cherries on top.”

  Snake cleared his throat and Pierre’s attention went to him and the rest of us immediately. “Where are my manners? Snake, as you know, it’s always a pleasure!” He walked over and kissed Seven and me. “Beautiful ladies are always welcomed and treated like queens à la Maison de Pierre! I’m quite acquainted already with the lovely Seven. So you must be Bianca?”

  “Yes, I am.” I beamed.

  He grabbed my hands and squeezed them gently, before bringing them to his lips. “In case you weren’t aware, I’m Pierre, and this is my companion, Étienne.”

  Étienne sashayed over to Pierre. “Je vais prendre les dames pour profiter de notre spa tandis que vous et les garçons gèrent les affaires.” (I will take the ladies to enjoy our spa while you and the boys manage business.)

  I could do nothing but blush as he stared into my eyes. Étienne was gay, no doubt about it, but something about that androgynous look turned me on like it did whenever I came across an image of Prince. “Thanks for the hospitality, Pierre and Étienne. You have a lovely home.”

  Pierre kissed him again and then hugged him around the waist, but never took his eyes off of us. “Je pense que ce serait une merveilleuse idée d’amour!” (I think it would be a wonderful idea. love.)

  Jordan interrupted their conversation. “English, Étienne and Pierre; Bianca doesn’t understand.”

  Embarrassed, I was sure I turned a few shades of red. Étienne, however, caressed the side of my arm to reassure me before translating what he had said. “I was telling Pierre to allow me to take you ladies to our spa while they handled business,” he replied with a thick accent.

  Suddenly, Seven seemed to come alive. “You must’ve read my mind. I hope Agatha is still with you. She gives the best Swedish massages.”

  Étienne laughed. “Why of course. Ladies.” He gestured with his hand and we followed him willingly.

  Jordan caught me before I could leave and gave me a kiss. He then whispered in my ear, “I love you. Yo
u know that, don’t you?”

  At a loss for words, the only reaction I could give him was a head nod as this was not what I was ever expecting to hear from him. Tears spilled out of my eyes before I could stop them. Jordan used his fingers to pat them dry. Étienne and Seven stood patiently wearing goofy expressions on their faces.

  “They’re waiting on me.” I hurriedly left his side.

  The next morning, Étienne was a gracious host as he regaled us in his talks of Paris. We enjoyed a lavish breakfast of made-to-order omelets, coffee, mimosas, croissants and fruit on the loggia that was surrounded by lush gardens and a sparkling Olympic-sized pool and spa. Although this was what I envisioned breakfast in Paris to be like, my early morning wakeup call in the form of an orgasm while being pleasured orally before dawn, made this pale in comparison. Jordan leaned over and nibbled on my lip right before kissing me.

  “Looks like someone enjoyed their stay at à la Maison de Pierre!” Pierre grinned.

  “I would say so,” Étienne shared his sentiments, “à la Maison de Pierre is the place to fall in love all over again.”

  Seven began to choke while Snake patted her on the back. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes.” Seven cleared her throat. “My mimosa went down the wrong way.” The daggers I shot her way didn’t go unnoticed by anyone.

  At some point during the night, Sledge had rejoined the men as they had worked inside of Pierre’s underground garage throughout the night. Sledge was the first to excuse himself. “I’m going to the shop to see how things are progressing along.”

  “We’ll be there shortly,” Jordan responded.

  Pierre leaned in when Sledge left prompting the rest of us to do the same. “I have my guys finishing up the details on the vehicles. But I don’t trust that one.” He pointed in the direction that Sledge had gone in.