SPY: His Mission. His Orders. His Promise.
Page 12
Striding back into the bedroom he closed and locked the door, then laying on his stomach he reached under the bed and pulled out the small crate. Lifting the lid he let out a heavy sigh as he saw the relic, but his heart was still thumping as he turned it over.
The small black dot stared up at him.
A tsunami of relief flooded his body.
Returning the precious artifact to its packing, he leaned against the bed. The alarm in the exhibition had been a diversion, and though Barton had successfully broken into the suite he'd been unable to locate the treasure. Victor smiled. The episode had created a nightmare he'd have to deal with, but he'd outfoxed the infamous spy.
"I'll do it again," he sneered. "Next time you'll end up with a bullet in your head, but did you know the artifact was in my room, or were you just playing a hunch?"
Pushing the crate back under the bed, he rose to his feet and stared down at his sleeping lover.
"Don't worry Xavier. I'll have our revenge. He didn't get what he came for so he'll follow us wherever we go."
Leaning down and kissing him softly on the cheek, he let out a sigh, then walked back into the living room, but he found Sergei and Boris looking even more anxious than when he'd left.
"What now?"
"No-one's on the roof and all the stairwells are clear. The cops have told the management to keep the guests in their rooms, and they're evacuating the lobby and casinos."
"Make sure those people are watched when they leave. If Barton's still here, he may try to slip out with the crowd."
"What happens now?"
"Do whatever the cops say and make sure everyone knows we'll be leaving here tomorrow. I'll tell you my plans in the morning. We may blow this fucking town and just head to L. A."
A loud knock told him the cops had arrived. Victor didn't care about them. He had diplomatic immunity and powerful friends. They were simply an annoyance, but they were an annoyance that required his attention.
"I may as well get this over with," he grunted. "Let the cocksuckers in."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Finding a bottle of Cabernet in the opulent hotel room, Natalie opened it and poured two glasses while Oliver was in the bedroom talking to Leo. Carrying them across to the couch she flopped down, placed one on the coffee table, then kicking off her shoes she took a long drink.
"That's just what I need," Oliver declared, appearing through the door and walking towards her.
"I'm trying to stay calm but it's not easy. I have a thousand questions."
"I suspect that's an exaggeration," he remarked as he sat down beside her and picked up his glass.
"The police must be swarming the hotel by now. Do you think they'll order everyone out? Is that how we should leave here? Blend in with the crowd?"
"God, no. If the hotel does evacuate, Victor's men will be studying every person who gets off the elevator or walks down the stairs, but I don't think that will happen. The bodies are outside his suite and the cops know he's a gangster. It'll be a pain in the ass for Victor and the police, but the investigation won't go anywhere."
"Won't the hotel be knocking on our door or calling?"
"No. As far as the hotel is concerned, the people who are supposed to be staying here haven't arrived yet. I got the card key from Leo."
"Leo? How did he manage that, and why didn't you tell me? Sorry, I forgot. What I don't know…"
"You'll get used to it," he said, taking a large swallow of his wine. "The office takes care of details like that, but it was Leo's idea. He gave me the card key when I met him at Red Rock Canyon. He thought it might come in handy."
"Unbelievable."
"I've only worked with him this closely once before and he was the same then. I swear that guy is psychic."
"You are!"
"Not really."
"How long will we have to stay in here?"
"I'm guessing things will have calmed down by late tomorrow morning. Leo had to take our helmets when he left the roof. He'll bring them when the dust settles, and I'm sure Victor will be kicked out but we still have to be careful when we leave. There's something else I need to tell you. Leo is getting Andy out now."
"He is?"
"The police are evacuating the casino and the lobby. Leo's going to slip Andy out in the middle of the chaos. The opportunity presented itself and Leo thought we should grab it."
"I'm so happy for Andy, but I have to ask, did you plan on using this room all along?"
"I was fairly confident it might be needed, but operations like this are fluid."
"No kidding! I know why you didn't tell me, but wouldn't Andy have seen us come in here?"
"That's why I had him watching the stairwells."
"Oh, I see. Does he know we're safe?"
"Yes. Leo's in touch with him."
"So, I guess this means we're done here."
"Yes, we're done here," he repeated. "Now we'll be following that relic wherever it leads us."
"It's a good thing you didn't just swap it out. You might have missed seeing that microdot and Victor would have known immediately."
"Lady Luck. She was with us again," Oliver murmured, then putting his glass on the table he turned to face her. "It will be a while before we can leave this suite, and there's a big beautiful bed in there."
"What did you have in mind?"
"This and that."
"I think I could use some sleep."
"Sleep is overrated."
"You think?"
"I know," he said softly, and swiftly sweeping her into his arms he carried her into the bedroom, tossed her on the bed and jumped on top of her.
"Oliver, everything about tonight was incredible."
"Just another day at the office."
"Why am I so calm about it all?"
"It must be in your blood. Wasn't your father a diplomat? A diplomat used to be just another name for spy, but regardless you were great. Now stop talking."
"I really want to join The Force. Have I proven myself?"
"To me you have," he replied, sliding her shirt up her body and over her head. "But it's not me you have to convince."
"What do you think my chances are?"
"Look at me," he said briskly. "Are you paying attention?"
"Yes."
"Excuse me?"
"Yes, Sir," she whispered, a flurry of butterflies fluttering to life.
"From this moment forward not a sound. Not a word. Complete silence. Breathing loudly, okay. Gasping, okay, but no moaning, no little cries, no loud cries, no talking, no nothing. Are we clear? Nod your head. Good. Now close your eyes and surrender your body."
As he traveled his lips to her breasts, lingering for only a short time before moving his kisses across her belly to her inner thighs, Natalie was barely able to suppress her moans. When his mouth pressed against her pussy, she curled her fingers into a ball, and when he started his tantalizing torment, teasing and twirling his tongue around her clit, her breathing became short, sharp gasps. She'd never imagined it would be so difficult to remain silent, and when he thrust a finger into her sex and gently massaged the magical place buried deep inside her, she couldn't stop the small cry from escaping her lips.
But to her surprise Oliver didn't stop. He didn't reprimand her or even pause. His salacious attention continued, and she tried even harder to remain silent, though failed again. When he had her at the brink he paused his attention and raised his head.
"That's the first denial," he said softly. "You disobeyed me four times, so you'll be brought to the edge four times before I'll allow you to climax. Any more noises will be tacked on."
He watched her face crinkle in dismay, then moved up her body to suckle her nipples as he fervently massaged her clit. She panted and wriggled but didn't moan or speak, and as he'd promised, when he sensed her drawing near he withdrew his hand, though he continued nibbling on her breasts. He could hear her silent groans, and he was impressed by her self-control. If she made it through the
next two denials without a squeak she'd have her reward.
Crawling off the bed he grabbed her ankles and pulled her to the edge of the mattress. It was abrupt and unexpected and always drew a squeal, but she remained silent. Pushing her knees towards her body, though he wasn't wearing a condom he thrust into her soaked channel. His naked member inside her pussy was divine, and closing his eyes he allowed himself a few seconds to relish the moment, then slowly began to stroke with strong powerful thrusts. Dropping his fingers against her clit, he resumed his erotic massage, and it was only a couple of minutes before she was gasping and lifting her pelvis.
"I'm going to flip you on to your stomach," he whispered, leaning over her and placing his lips at her ear. "Wriggle down and rest your feet on the floor."
As he rolled her over and her feet sank into the soft carpet, he grasped her hips, pulled her towards him, then placed himself at her entrance and plunged forward. Remaining still, buried inside her, he raised his hand and landed a volley of hot smacks, and though she grabbed a pillow and buried her head, he didn't hear any muffled yelps. Smoothing his palm over her warm skin, he slid his hand underneath her to once again torment her sensitive button. With his cock nearing its bursting point he didn't trust himself to fuck her, but as her orgasm drew near, and he could feel her honey walls pulse, he began to pump.
"Yell into the pillow," he commanded. "Come for me and make as much noise as you want, but into the pillow."
As she surrendered to the powerful orgasm he continued to thrust, and with a super-human effort he held himself at bay until her euphoric cries began to ebb, then pulling himself out he exploded across her blushing backside. Though his climax was violent and strong it quickly passed, and as she crawled on the bed to rest, he followed and stretched out beside her.
"I needed that," she murmured, letting out a long breath. "I needed that so badly."
"You and me both, now get some rest. I think we've got a couple of hours."
"That's all? I could sleep for a week."
"Once we're back at the house you'll be able to get all the rest you need, but we're not there yet."
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
It was early afternoon. Victor was standing in the exhibition room watching his precious art being carefully packed for transport. It had been an unpleasant few hours. His nephew couldn't be found anywhere, not that he cared, but he couldn't just let him vanish so he'd sent Taylor to find him. He didn't care about the police either. They'd pummeled him with questions, but the rope dangling from the rooftop, and his own men dead outside his door, had made it impossible for them to argue with his theory that he'd had an intruder who had gunned down his bodyguards. On top of that there had been an endless series of phone calls from the Russian Embassy in Washington D.C.
But there was only one conversation on his mind.
It was one he'd yet to have, and as his phone buzzed he felt his gut churn. He knew it before he even glanced at the screen and read ID Unavailable, it was him. Knowing he'd need privacy he strode quickly to the room that had been used as the portrait gallery, and closing the double doors he took a breath to gather his thoughts, then answered the call.
"Victor Pichenko."
"Victor! Oleg. Tell me what the hell's going on."
"I had a break-in. It was Oliver Barton, I'm sure of it. Some of my guys were shot and killed."
Victor waited for a response, but receiving none he nervously continued.
"The artifact wasn't harmed. The only chip is the one it already has."
"I've heard there are many interested parties hovering around. How do you know it was Barton?"
"I had a problem with him earlier, and I have eyes on the others. Art thieves must be watched."
"Not him?"
"Yes, but he gave us the slip."
"How inconvenient. I appreciate the exhibition has been helpful in the transportation of this relic, but I'm extremely unhappy about all this fuss. I want it taken to its final destination sooner than we planned. Do you understand what I'm telling you?"
"Yes, Oleg. When?"
"Immediately. I'll have my plane at LAX tomorrow."
Victor cringed. It would cost him dearly if he wasn't in Los Angeles with the exhibition. He had narcotics connections lined up, and meetings with two private collectors who were prepared to pay handsomely to acquire some valuable off-market pieces. He'd never make it back from England in time.
"Is that going to be a problem, Victor?"
"No, but I have my plane there already. There's no need to send yours."
"That tin can? The artifact is precious and I'm not taking any chances. You'll fly to England in mine, and naturally you'll keep your trip under wraps. It will be helpful to have the buzzards thinking the relic is going to LA."
"Of course. The replica will be there and they won't know the difference. I'll leave Sergei and Boris here to keep a close eye on things. Taylor as well. She's very good at public relations. No-one will know I'm heading off to London."
"About Barton. This man has been a nuisance before. I believe he was troublesome for you a couple of years ago."
"He was."
"He also meddled in a financial transfer of mine a few months back. It was extremely irritating."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
"I think it's time he took a vacation. A permanent one. You should have taken care of him the last time your paths crossed. We have some important business in the days ahead and I don't want him interfering. Find him and give him a one-way ticket to paradise."
"I'll take care of it, Oleg."
"Make sure you do."
The call abruptly ended, and as Victor dropped his phone in his pocket he realized he was sweating.
"Fucking desert heat," he grunted as he marched across to the men's room.
Pushing open the door he hurried to the sink and splashed cold water on his face. Oleg Brovko was one of the kingpins of the international criminal underworld. He wielded power over politicians and banking institutions, he dined with the world's wealthiest and nastiest, and he had eyes and ears everywhere.
Victor didn't know in whose hands the microdot would ultimately land, he didn't even know the information it contained and he didn't want to. He was being paid five million dollars to meet Oleg in his vault and pass it over. Meeting in the vault had been Oleg's directive, one that made Victor uneasy. He was sure Oleg had ordered the hand-over there not because of the high-security the vault offered, but because he wanted to see the new acquisitions. There were very few people who had been in his ultra-private gallery and Oleg was one of them.
Pulling a paper towel from its holder Victor patted his face dry. The exhibition had taken a great deal of preparation. He hadn't wanted the last minute inclusion of an ancient artifact carrying contraband, but no-one turned down a request from Oleg Brovko. His minions knocked on a person's door, told them what was wanted and how much they'd be paid. The money was always ridiculously generous, but so was the risk.
And failure was fatal.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Having successfully left the hotel, Leo and Andy were at the ultra-chic safe house. Showered and wearing the new clothes Leo had given him when they'd arrived, Andy was drinking the best cup of coffee he'd ever tasted. That's what he'd proclaimed, but Leo knew it wasn't the coffee but the circumstances.
"I didn't get any sleep but I feel wide awake," Andy declared. "It's weird."
"It's the adrenalin. Once Natalie and Oliver get here and you start to relax you'll hit the wall."
"They are okay, right? You talked them and they're definitely out of the hotel?"
"They are definitely out and you should hear the Harley coming down the street any time now."
"I assume you're not going back there. To work at the bar I mean."
"Nope."
"Do you do that often?"
"Tend bars?"
"Find jobs because you have to be there for, uh, some other reason."
"All the time."r />
"That must be fun, not having to do the same thing month in and month out."
"My work doesn't change, just the situations."
"I get it. You and Oliver are like James Bond."
"No comment. I'll leave any explaining up to Oliver. He's the one who adopted you."
"Adopted me?"
"He's put his neck out for you."
"Uh, yeah. I get that."
"You can't possibly know how much," Leo murmured, though with a smile, "and there's something you must understand. Oliver is an honorable man. His word is gold. Don't ever make him a promise you can't keep."
"Where I come from promises are just something we say."
"Change that when you're dealing with him. Listen, I think I hear the bike."
The roar of the powerful machine was drawing closer, and jumping to his feet Andy hurried to the door that led into the garage, opening it just as Oliver and Natalie rolled in. He waited excitedly to greet them, but as Natalie climbed off and removed her helmet, Andy was shocked to see her long strawberry hair was short and blonde.
"Andy! I'm so pleased to you're here," she beamed, hurrying across to hug him. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, great, but your hair."
"Don't worry, it's just a wig," she laughed as she headed inside. "Tell me how things went when you left."
"It was scary, and it felt strange walking out the door knowing I'd never be going back. Strange but fantastic. Hi, Oliver. Thank you again for getting me out."
"We couldn't have accomplished what we did without you," Oliver said warmly as he joined them. "Now I need to grab a cup of java, then Leo and I have to disappear into the study for a while."
"Leo?" Natalie repeated, staring at him with a puzzled frown. "I'm going to meet Leo?"
"You are," he said with a grin, and as he walked ahead, she and Andy followed him into the kitchen.