Amy Lynn: Golden Angel

by Jack July

  His face was changing colors when he turned, walked back to Novikov and whispered something in his ear. Novikov smiled and nodded before he stood up, straightened his jacket and walked over to Elle with his hand extended. She offered hers in turn and he pulled it up and gently kissed it. Elle thickened up her southern accent and drawled, “And your name is?”

  In decent English accentuated by a thick Russian accent he replied, “Lesta, Lesta Novikov.”

  “Lester?” she repeated back to him.

  “No, Lesta,” he replied.

  “That’s what I said, Lester,” she noted with a little smile.

  “No, no, Lesta, Les-ta,”

  “Well okay, it’s nice meeting you, Lester.”

  “Oh, just call me Les,” he conceded with a chuckle.

  “Like, Les is more?” cooed Elle.

  “Yes, just like. Come join me, I would like to buy you drink.”

  “I don’t know Les. You see, I am waiting for my friends. They’re supposed to be here,” she informed him as she glanced around the room.

  “Just until they arrive? Please, come join me.”

  “Well, okay, but just for one drink.”

  They slid into the half-round booth, Elle positioning herself inches from the Russian. She then did what most beautiful women do—she started talking about herself. He listened intently until she stopped and then he declared, “I don’t believe your friends are coming.”

  “I reckon it seems that way, don’t it?” replied Elle.

  He turned on the charm, leaned in close and while slowly running his hand from her knee to her thigh said, “Would you like to go someplace more, private?”

  She grabbed his hand, stopping its journey and advised, “You know Les, my momma told me to never let a man’s hand go there.” Then she paused, sidled up next to his body and whispered, “In public.”

  Novikov nodded, looked at his bodyguard and ordered in Russian, “Bring the car around.”

  Elle quickly got out of the booth and grabbed his hand, nearly dragging him out the front door. As she made it outside, she stopped and bent down as if to fix her shoe. That was the signal. The black, four-door Mercedes with tinted windows pulled up to the curb, cutting off Novikov’s car with his bodyguard behind the wheel. T rolled down the back window calling out, “Ellie, Ellie, over here!”

  “My friends!” Elle exclaimed as she dragged Novikov toward the car.

  They got to the door and T pushed it open. Elle said, “Meet my friend Les.”

  When Les leaned in toward the car, T grabbed him by the tie, while from the front seat, Bogus pulled on Novikov’s suit coat in a concerted effort to drag him into the car. The bodyguard leapt out of his vehicle and rushed to assist his boss. T had her foot braced against the inside of the door jamb pulling while Elle pushed from the outside. Novikov braced his hands on the outside doorframe: he wasn’t moving easily.

  The big Russian descended upon the scene, body-checked Elle to the ground, and grabbed Novikov by his waist fighting to drag him back out. Elle jumped to her feet, kicked off her shoes and threw a punch to the bodyguard’s temple. She felt a bone in her hand snap; the punch had no effect on the big Russian. He swung his arm and fist back like a big hammer, pummeling her in the sternum. Elle was swept off of her feet, landing hard on her tailbone before her head snapped back and bounced off the sidewalk. She was struggling to stay conscious when she heard the massive bodyguard grunt.

  Cody appeared from the left striking him on the back of the head with a leather covered lead sap. Two more hard shots and the enormous Russian lay unconscious. Then Cody broke Novikov’s grip on the doorframe, popped him on the back of the head, and shoved him into the car before he turned around, reached down and pulled Elle to her feet.

  “Hey kid, you got a knife?”

  Indeed she did, taped to her bra strap. “Stick, turn and pull on the major leg muscles, he’ll go down. Now go get ’em!”

  He spun her around and slapped her hard on the ass, propelling her toward the car where she fell against the quarter panel. She turned to look, but Cody was already gone.

  “GET YOUR ASS IN THE CAR!” screamed T. Elle got in just as Brandon hit the gas and drove away.

  Novikov wasn’t done fighting. Elle tried to put some sort of arm bar on him while T struggled with his left arm, ducking shots from Novikov’s elbow.

  Bogus leaned over the back of the front seat with a hypodermic needle ready to sedate on their captive. In the dark, legs were thrashing when T finally yelled, “DAMMIT BOGUS, STICK HIM ALREADY!”

  Bogus came down with the needle and pushed the plunger. Elle grunted, “Ow! That was me.”

  “Oh shit!” Bogus exclaimed.

  Without warning Brandon stood on the brakes throwing everybody against the back of the front seat. He threw the car into park, pulled his pistol, leaned over the seat, grabbed Novikov by the throat and cracked him in the side of the head. This stunned their hostage long enough for T to cuff him.

  Elle leaned back in the seat watching everything go in and out of focus and hearing Bogus apologizing profusely. The last thing she remembered was a slight smile and a goodnight from him, while T screamed something about a clusterfuck.

  CHAPTER 34

  November 24th 6:00 P.M.

  Adele turned the doorknob and with a gentle motion, stepped softly into the world of Larry Ellison, a.k.a. Thing One. His assistants were sitting in chairs off to the side of the decorated Dr. Suess-themed room, while Larry played a video game based on The Cat in the Hat on one of the big screens, grunting and flapping his hands. Adele smiled because she liked seeing one of her greatest assets happy. She bent down and whispered to one of his assistants, “How is he doing with the Chinese embassy in Berlin?”

  “We’ve tried to make him understand what we want; something about the Chinese thing throws him off.”

  “Where is Virginia? She can explain it to him.”

  The assistants uncomfortably looked at each other then back at Adele without speaking. “Out in the hall ladies,” Adele ordered with a quiet forcefulness. They walked into the hall then she closed the door to the soundproof room.

  “Okay ladies. Now, where…. In the HELL… is Virginia?

  The braver of the two stepped forward and whispered the answer into Adele’s ear. She stood up straight, her eyes went wide and she released a sound similar to a growl, only not as nice. Adele turned on her heel and stomped down the hall, reminiscent of Godzilla’s march through Tokyo. Those who saw her coming backed against the wall, fully aware of her legendary bad temper. Adele didn’t bother with the elevator. She ran down two flights of stairs, walked about a hundred yards to the janitor’s room, swiped her card, and turned the knob. Converging on the scene, she saw Virginia with her pants around her ankles bent over the janitor’s desk while the mail boy was having his way. Adele kicked him in the ass so hard his feet left the floor. Then she yelled at him, “You’re fired, get your shit and get out!”

  Virginia frantically tried to pull up her pants, but didn’t make it. Adele grabbed her by the ear, pushing her thumbnail through the cartilage and dragging her out of the room and down the hall with her pants still pooled around her ankles. Virginia’s feet were moving fast like a penguin, her bare ass shaking with every step. When they arrived at the elevator door, it opened to reveal a half-dozen occupants who were shocked by the sight greeting them, which included blood dripping down Adele’s hand from Virginia’s torn ear.

  One look at Adele’s face and they quickly filed out and didn’t look back. When the elevator next opened, Adele dragged Virginia half-naked down the hall until they got to Thing One’s door. There, she flung Virginia against the wall, grabbed her by the throat, dug her nails deeply into both sides of her larynx and whispered ominously in her ear, “If you ever leave his side while he is in this building, I will send you back to prison. If
you ever pull the same shit you pulled today, I will kill you myself. Do you understand?”

  A dazed and stunned Virginia just nodded her head.

  “Now you get your ass in there and get him started on accessing the computers of the Chinese embassy in Berlin!”

  Adele released her grip. Virginia pulled up her pants and hurried into Thing One’s office. Then Adele turned her attention to his assistants. “Why didn’t you tell me this was going on?”

  “Ma’am, the rest of the building knew; we figured you did too. We are sorry.” Then the other assistant added “Yes ma’am, very sorry.”

  Adele nodded and replied, “Okay, from now on, tell me. Even if you think I already know.”

  “Yes ma’am,” they responded in stereo.

  Adele turned and walked down the hall while Larry’s assistants breathed huge sighs of relief.

  November 25th 2:00 A.M.

  Elle awoke with a splitting headache. She was lying on a small couch in an office-like room. Her dress was gone and in its place she was wearing her hoody, jeans, and tennis shoes. Obviously someone had changed her clothes while she was unconscious. She sat up and noticed an odd pain in the back of her head. Reaching up, she felt the remnants of dried blood and what felt like stitches. Then she remembered her head smacking the concrete, “Must have split it open,” she thought.

  She wobbled to her feet, steadied herself and started walking. When she opened the office door, she was assaulted with the smells of burnt hair and flesh. She walked down a dimly lit hall and entered a large room that looked like an old restaurant. Booths stood along two sides of the walls with a bar on one end and a few tables and chairs scattered around the room. Cody was sitting in a chair and T was putting things away in her black duffle bag. Noticing Elle’s arrival, Cody greeted her, “Hey sleeping beauty, how you feelin’?”

  “I feel like I’ve been drugged and beat up,” she replied, trying to shake free the cobwebs.

  “T nodded and declared, “That would be accurate. Did you learn anything?”

  “Yeah, don’t fist fight big Russians.”

  Cody let out a small laugh and T asked, “Anything else?”

  “I feel like I should have done something different when we tried to get him in the car.”

  “Very good. Yes, always play for the second move. When we were trying to get him in the car you turned to help us. Immediately, you made yourself the enemy to his bodyguard. Instead you should scream for help and wave him over. Then, you are not the enemy. He will ignore you. As he gets close, you shove your knife into his thigh and, as he stumbles, bury it in his neck. Deception, it’s all about deception.”

  Elle nodded then asked, “Who changed my clothes?”

  “I did,” admitted Cody. “Don’t worry, I didn’t look, much.” Then he winked and smiled.

  “Who sewed up my head?”

  “Bogus,” noted T. After a few moments she shook her head and observed, “You know, he seems to care deeply about you.”

  “I know exactly what he cares about,” insisted Elle.

  Good, thought T, she’s on to him. Then she spoke up, “You know, he is a good friend. Inside that caricature there is a good man.”

  “Oh yeah? Well, point him out to me when he shows up,” Elle replied skeptically. Then she asked, “Are we waiting for something?”

  “Yes, Bogus and Brandon left to procure us a new safe house. Cody, throw Mr. Novikov in the trunk.”

  Elle hadn’t noticed the body on the floor wrapped in a tarp like a burrito and secured in duct tape. “Oh yes, Novikov. Did he know anything?” she asked.

  “Nope, nothing,” replied T. “I’m waiting for a call from Langley, I have a really bad feeling.”

  “Wanna share?” Elle pressed her.

  “Not yet.”

  Forty-five minutes later Bogus and Brandon returned. Brandon sniffed the air, knowing that all too familiar smell from years of responding to house fires as a cop. He looked at T out of the corner of his eye. She sent him away before the interrogation. She never wanted him to see her ‘operate.’ His imagination filled in the blanks. He knew exactly what she was but had no idea of her level of raw brutality.

  Bogus looked at Elle and asked, “How are you?”

  “Okay, if I could clear this fog from my head.”

  Bogus nodded and said, “Sit here, I can help you with that.”

  Elle took a seat as Bogus retrieved his little black pouch, pulled out a hypodermic needle and a small vial. “Roll up your sleeve.”

  “What’s that?” she asked as she pulled up the hoodie’s sleeve.

  “Something to counteract the sedative,” he explained as he felt her arm for a vein. Because she was muscular, a vein wasn’t hard to find. He injected the homemade concoction painlessly like a pro. Elle sat still for a moment then felt her heart go BOOM! Her eyes flew open wide and she grabbed the edge of the table, took a couple of deep breaths and cried, “Whoa, Whoa! Wow, what is that?”

  “Oh just a little combination of amphetamines and adrenalin I cooked up. You should be ready to go.”

  “Yeah, I’ll say. WOW!” she exclaimed.

  The phone rang and T answered it. She listened for a moment and asked, “Are you sure?” She listened a little more and replied, “Hundreds, huh?” Then nodding her assent, she assured the caller, “Okay, we’re on it.”

  T put away the phone and looked at Bogus for an uncomfortable amount of time, then said, “Molyneux is broke.”

  “What? No, that can’t be,” he answered dismissively.

  “Oh, but he is,” T insisted. “Everything he owns with exception of his primary residence has been foreclosed on or repossessed. His only steady stream of income is hundreds of five thousand dollar deposits to a Caymans’ account. Those deposits began a couple of years ago.”

  “I have known this man for years, and I can assure you there is no way he is involved in this. I won’t even entertain the thought,” Bogus stated defensively.

  “You get his ass here, and I mean now!” T demanded.

  “No, you are not going to interrogate him. I cannot tolerate that. You must understand, I am the Godfather to his children. I cannot allow it.” Bogus stood firm.

  T’s first inclination was to shoot Bogus, then go after Molyneux but then she relaxed just a bit and conceded, “Fine, then you interrogate him. Either way, I want his ass here as soon as possible.”

  Bogus contemplated her offer for a moment then replied, “All right, but then you will see this is a waste of time.”

  With that, he got up to make a call. T strolled over by Elle and ordered, “I want you to pay attention to this. You are going to learn a lesson about getting too close to people. Bogus is and has always been a great agent; however, this can happen to the best of us.”

  “T, our safe house is ready. We need to leave,” announced Brandon.

  Forty-five minutes later, the crew arrived at their new safe house. It was an old storefront in an area known as the Kosmos-Viertel. Built before the fall of the Berlin Wall when the area was still part of communist East Germany, it was mostly a development of bleak residential high-rises at the far southeastern edge of Berlin. Bogus sent his helicopter to Paris where Machin picked up Molyneux. Brandon bought some Chinese take-out so the crew could eat and relax. Cody and Brandon took catnaps while Bogus sat quietly contemplating his own thoughts. Elle was still a little jacked up from the shot Bogus had given her, so she focused on perimeter security.

  Three hours later, Molyneux arrived.

  CHAPTER 35

  November 25th 8:00 A.M, The White House

  “Chancellor on line one Madam President.”

  “Helga, it’s Liz; how’s things in the Fatherland?”

  “Good Liz,” she answered in a thick German accent, “How can I help you?”

  “First of all, the
American people wish to thank the German people for helping us with the investigation of our missing children.”

  “No doubt you would do the same,” Helga replied.

  “Absolutely,” Liz confirmed. “But we have run into a small problem. We need help from the BND with the identification of the staff in the Chinese embassy.”

  “Madam President,” the Chancellor began, switching to a more formal tone, “as you know, methods of obtaining information are closely guarded state secrets. My responsibility to the German people comes first.”

  “Agreed Madam Chancellor, as does mine.”

  “I’m glad you understand,”

  “Oh, I certainly do, which leads me to our next subject. As you know, part of my campaign for President focused on being frugal with our citizens’ tax dollars.”

  “Yes, everyone has their hand out,” the Chancellor stated knowingly.

  “The Polish government has offered the American people a way to save billions. I can do this by moving all of America’s military assets out of Germany and into Poland. My joint chiefs tell me this would be both financially and strategically wise.”

  The Chancellor was momentarily taken aback. “Madam President, that would be a financial disaster for my country,” she protested.

  “That’s unfortunate, and I understand your distress. But my job is to look after Americans. Did you know random crimes committed against our military personnel in your country is up by 30%?

  “We have taken steps to address that.”

  “Helga, how do you address an attitude? I’m sure that during the height of the cold war with thousands of Soviet tanks to the east, the American military presence was a comfort. Now? My kids are called imperialist baby killers. Every day they are harassed, assaulted and worse. Oh, and to top it all off, I ask for intelligence help and I get a short lecture on the definition of a state secret.”

  An uncomfortable silence stalled the conversation as President North winked at Dotson and offered him a little smile.