by Tara Oakes
No less than a half block from the entrance to the world famous underground subway system, the intercom system of the van begins to make static. They know the van’s been hijacked. Wow. We got three minutes this time.
“Let’s go. Leave the keys in the ignition and the door open. Hopefully, it’ll be stolen before the cops get here.” I’m first to hop out of the car, leaving my door open, too.
Beau takes a moment longer to take off and leave his own coveralls behind before chasing after me.
“I thought we were going down there?” He points over to the Tube.
I shake my head and hold out my hand to an oncoming car. “Nope. That’s what I want the cops to think if the van’s still here by the time they get their asses here.”
The black Volkswagen isn’t exactly happy with us cutting him off and honks his horn to let us know.
“If we’re not going down there, then where are we going?” Beau uses his palms to slap against the hood of the next car that stops mere inches from hitting us as we cross the three lanes of traffic.
Hoisting my bag higher on my shoulder, I join the crowd of busy commuters on the sidewalk and wait for him to get done bullying one of the smallest cars I’ve ever seen.
“Let’s go, Tarzan. Simon’s waiting,” I call out.
He makes one last growl at the distracted driver who almost killed us before letting the car pass.
“Who’s Simon?” He inquires while keeping pace with me as we blend into the late night dinner crowd walking the streets.
I can’t help but laugh while thinking about how I’m going to describe Simon to Beau. There are no words that would fit.
~*~
“Ready?” I ask Beau as my knuckles are ready to rasp against the front door to the apartment we stand in front of. “Because I guarantee you, you are not ready for this.”
I can see I’ve gotten Beau’s attention. It’s kind of sick, but I actually can’t wait to see this happen.
“Stand next to the light,” a voice can be heard through the door.
This never gets old.
I find the small red light blinking behind a black panel and press my eye against it, letting the retina scanner work its way across, confirming my identity.
The first of many locks can be heard unclicking from the opposite side. First one, then another, and another. I eye Beau and watch as his eyes squint a little bit more with each progressive unclicking of the door.
Seven, and then… eight.
There’s a combination of eight chains, deadbolts, or latches back there that give Beau a little taste of what he’s in store for. Once the last lock is undone, the door opens.
Simon is a virtual genius. A paranoid, reclusive, virtual genius. It’s taken me a while to get used to his eccentricities, but the kid has grown on me. He’s become the little brother I never had, never wanted, but got anyway.
“Come in.” The door is left open, having been released from an automatic latch.
Beau grabs my arm. “You sure this is a good idea?”
I laugh. “He’s harmless. Come on. I’ll introduce you.”
Simon’s apartment is cluttered with every single electronic you can think of. One entire wall is filled corner to corner with computer monitors, displaying a variety of news stations, websites, and live feed camera signals covering almost every square inch of the hallway outside, the main entrance of the apartment building and the street outside.
“Raven!” Simon’s squeaky voice makes its way from the kitchen before Simon actually shows himself.
I can’t wait to see what he’s got for me today. I’ve learned never to underestimate him.
And I’m not disappointed. Truly.
His scrawny kneecaps are the first thing that beg for my attention as he finally shows himself. The red satin robe barely covers mid thigh, highlighting his pale chicken legs.
“I made us some cocktails,” Simon’s hands each behold a blue colored concoction in sugar rimmed glasses.
The robe is swimming on his ultra petite frame, although I’m sure it’s an extra small size. When he moves to hand me the one in his right hand, the motion causes a ripple in the shiny, silky robe, loosening the slacked belt and giving us all a full display of genitalia.
“Pardon me, Milady. I’m just getting comfortable for the evening.” Once the drink is firmly in my hand, Simon clinks his glass against it. “To us.”
I feel Beau’s eyes on us, taking in the spectacle. “Sure. Uhm… Simon, this is my friend Beau.”
Simon’s thick, wide-rimmed glasses stay focused on me as I sip the sweet drink.
“Cheating on me?” Simon asks playfully.
We slip into our usual banter easily. “Aw, I thought we had an open relationship?”
Beau doesn’t realize the game we’re playing and nearly chokes.
Simon licks the rim of crystallized sugar from his glass. “Well, at least we’ve upgraded to a relationship.”
“Beau, this is Simon.” I know better than to wait for Simon to introduce himself.
Like a true gentleman, Beau extends his hand to shake his host’s, only to have it left hanging.
I clear my throat to reprimand Simon. “Be nice, Simon.”
“If I must,” he reluctantly concedes. Less than halfheartedly, he condescendingly gives Beau his slacked wrist. “Charmed, I’m sure.”
I nearly spit out my drink. I can see Beau just has no idea what to do with the very lackluster greeting.
“Raven tell me darling, why on earth are you bringing around this studly sack of muscles when you know you really only want a piece of Sexy Simon?”
Simon has a way of talking about himself in the third person, especially using his self imposed nickname and hacker name, Sexy Simon.
“Alright, Sexy Simon. We’ve had a long couple of days. Let’s call it a night.” I tip my glass back to empty it of its contents.
Simon play scowls at me. “No fun, party pooper. I’ve planned this little reunion ever since I got your message. Although it didn’t include a third wheel…”
He lifts his eyes up to Beau and scrunches his nose.
“Simon,” I’m too tired for his games.
Giving up in exasperation, he relieves me of the empty glass. “Fine. Conan over there can take the couch. You and I will share my bed.”
“Simon!” I feel like I’m reprimanding a child.
“You really need to just give in to your feelings, Raven, and we can make sweet, sweet love while your brooding hulk of a bodyguard enjoys the comforts of my very fine, expensive sofa.”
Ugh. I give up. “I’m taking a shower--”
“Good idea. Lets.” Simon places his hand on my lower back.
“Alone!” I correct him. “And then, when I come out, I’ll take the bed, you can take the couch and Beau can take the recliner. Good night, boys.”
I leave them standing in the main room of Simon’s futuristic apartment as I make my way to wash the travel grime from my hair, soak under the steaming hot water, and then get the first decent night’s sleep in days.
CHAPTER NINE
RAVEN
I’ve never in a million years imagined I’d be sleeping in Simon’s bed, but surprisingly, it’s amazingly comfortable.
To fit in with his whole “Sexy Simon” image, the walls of his bedroom are covered in deep crimson velvet, tufted and padded in places. Centered in the middle of the room is the largest round bed I’ve ever seen with faux animal skins draped over.
At first, I was afraid to even touch it. There’s not a bone in my body that believes scrawny but sweet little Simon gets any action on this mattress. Well, not with another person, that is. What he does with himself? I don’t even want to guess.
Pulling back the covers of the bed, I can still see the fold creases in the sheets, and it’s enough to convince me that the bed is clean and safe. Up top, on the ceiling, in a circle that perfectly matches the size of the bed, is a mirror, hung at an angle to get the best view of wha
t’s below.
He’s such a perv.
Watching my own reflection is just creepy, so I turn on my stomach and beat my fist into the pillow to make it softer. I close my eyes and allow my body to feel the comfort below, letting it soothe the few aches and pains in my chest from the car dive two days ago.
When a person is alone with their own thoughts, the universe can sometimes play cruel tricks on them. There’s no telling which thoughts will come creeping in. Sometimes they’re the good ones, the ones you want to think of. Sometimes they’re not. The only way to tell is to wait and see.
Tonight, thanks to the conversation I had with Beau earlier, thoughts of Aleks are coming through, no matter how hard I try to fight them off. They jump around, in no particular order at all.
I think of the first time we visited Paris together, sitting at one of those roadside café’s, sipping cappuccinos. Next, I think of the first time I saw him, when he approached me and asked for some help on hacking into a target of his.
He had the most amazing green eyes I’d ever seen.
Clear, wild, like a breezy field of wild grass.
I remember the first time we slept together, how he treated me like a princess.
I should have known better.
Ugh!! I shake my head to clear the thoughts. I need to think of something else, anything else. Simon. I can think of Simon. Uhm, no. Scratch that.
Beau. I can think of Beau.
I wonder how he treats a woman in bed. He’s sweet and gentle in a lot of ways, so I’m sure he’s more than thoughtful with a girl. On the other hand, he’s strong and manly, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he likes it a little rough.
My stomach flips just thinking of what that would be like.
My body starts to react in other ways, too, pooling down between my thighs imagining what his fingers would feel like running up and down the inside of my leg, teasing.
A groan works around my throat as I shift and adjust myself to relieve some of the tension. I’ve seen parts of his body here and there, and it definitely lived up to my expectations. I can only imagine what the rest looks like.
Ugh! Thinking like this is going to keep me up all night.
Sitting up, I reach for the remote control on the bedside table. I might as well watch some news. That’ll put me to sleep in no time. I hit the round button near the top of the control and lean back to settle in.
However, no news. Instead, one of the raunchiest porn movies I’ve ever seen is displayed on the screen. What the hell? He really is a perv.
The TV is turned off just as fast as it was turned on, plus a few extra seconds for having to hit a couple of buttons until I figure out which one is the right one.
I hit one too many, because the bed is now rotating.
ROTATING!!
Sexy Simon my ass. He’s passed sexy and is now a full blown freak. I may never be able to look at him the same way again.
~*~
BEAU
“Dude, if you don’t put that robe back on, I’m gonna knock you out. That’s just not cool to leave it flapping around like that.” I’ve just met Simon less than an hour ago, and, within that hour, I’ve seen him try his best to bang Raven, and now he’s going full on exhibitionist.
My new, annoying friend, Simon, lets out a frustrated breath. “Excuse me. I sleep in the nude.”
Oh, hell no. “Not tonight, you don’t.” I throw an extra pillow at him.
Reluctantly, he pulls his robe closed, tucking away whatever that thing is that he’s trying to flaunt so brazenly. This guy is quite a character.
“So, you and Raven…?” He tries not to seem too curious, although I can tell it’s eating away at him. He may act like a porn star wannabe around her to hide the way he really feels, but I can see the look in his eyes, behind the nerdy coke bottle glasses.
He’s into her. Like, really into her.
Poor kid doesn’t stand a chance and he probably knows it, too, that’s why he makes a joke of it to, soften the rejection. It’s a self defense mechanism we guys learn early on when dealing with the opposite sex.
“Me and Raven what?” I’m not going to make this easy on him.
The guy just flashed his dick around for God’s sake.
He clears his throat. “Are you two a thing?”
He says the word thing like it’s a terrible possibility.
I have a couple of choices here. I can say nothing, which will drive him crazy with curiosity, I can lie and say we are in fact a “thing”, but I’m sure Raven will kick my ass if she finds out, or I can tell him the truth, that even though I can’t get the girl out of my mind for more than thirty seconds at a time, the most I’ve gotten was an adrenaline fueled kiss.
My cock stirs just thinking about her body pressed below mine. If there weren’t bullets raining down upon us, that moment could have gone very differently and I wouldn’t have to lie to Simon if I told him we were a thing.
“Look, I realize you’re about a hundred pounds heavier than me, and you could probably break me in half like a twig if you wanted to, but if you hurt Raven in any way…” his warning starts.
“Relax, kid,” I say, because, let’s face it, there are men in this world and then there are kids. “I’m not gonna hurt her.”
I can tell he doesn’t like being called a kid by the irritation in his voice. “Good. Because she’s been hurt enough, you hear me? More than enough by big strong guys like you.”
Ah, there’s a hint in there.
“Big guys like me? You mean Aleksei? You’ve met him?” This conversation may actually be turning into something other than a jealous kid’s paranoia.
There’s a throaty sound of disgust coming from Simon, as if he’s just swallowed something bad. “Yeah, I’ve met him. I knew there was something off about him from the beginning, but Raven wouldn’t see it. Blinded by love, I guess.” He takes a deep breath. “That one really ate away at her. I’ve never seen someone manipulate another person the way that guy could. He was like a drug to her. One that she didn’t want to give up until the moment she realized it was gonna kill her if she didn’t.”
I’ve been forming a mental image of this guy, Aleksei, since I’d first learned of him. Now, thanks to Simon’s input, I know he must have been around my size.
So, Raven has a type, huh?
While we’re enjoying our bro bonding moment, I think it’s wise to see what else I can find out. “And they never tried to pin his murder on Raven?”
“He was a Ghost,” Simon yawns while answering.
I’d figured as much, but you never know with some of these government agencies.
A Ghost is a title given to a person who is so deep undercover, so clandestine, that they don’t actually exist. If they were to get caught by any foreign department, their home country would disavow their existence.
Their births, lives, and even deaths are erased from all records.
Not only was this Aleksei a Ghost when he was alive, but even in death his memory still seems to haunt Raven.
~*~
Simon is even more annoying today than he was last night, jumping around from keyboard to keyboard, typing frantically like a paranoid teen trying to find some porn before mom comes calling for dinner.
Most of what he’s doing, I’ve been able to follow. It seems he’s looking for subscript, an underlying amount of code hidden in general, everyday newsfeeds. Other than contacting someone directly, this method is far more likely to reach a large number of people. Well, those people who know where to look.
These are kind of like classifieds or wanted ads for hacks.
“Got one,” Simon enlarges and zooms in on one particular screen, widening the image and then stripping it of code until it’s nothing more than a moving sheet of binary digits floating down like neon green raindrops against a black backdrop.
With a few careful maneuvers, the steady stream of digits split into two groups, one at the forefront and one further behind, like a three dimens
ional image beginning to show itself.
“Looking to discreetly fill a gig for twenty-five thousand pounds. Several mainframe computers in need of infiltrating with all financial data to be secured and transferred to flash drive. Delivery to be arranged within twenty-four hours of commencement. Respond if qualified.” The job listing is pretty simple in itself, and Simon actually seems bored reciting it.
“Perfect. Let’s do it. Simon, reply that we’re interested and get the specifics.” Raven leans out of the bathroom, toothbrush in hand and a drop of paste near the corner of her mouth.
It’s bad enough that I woke up with morning wood, on the floor, alone, with no other warm body in proximity other than “Sexy Simon” up on the couch. My cock is already on heightened alert, just waiting for some bit of relief. Now, I get a full on view of Raven with glistening water near her mouth and a frothy bit of thick, whitish foam threatening to fall.
The image is just too much and I feel my dick growing tight against my leg.
Oh, crap!
Not here, not now, and not anywhere near “Sexy Simon”.
That’s just… wrong.
On every single level.
“I just need a minute to change my contacts,” I think of the very first viable excuse I can to get a few seconds of privacy away from these two to take care of—
“No time. Just take them out. At this point, contacts aren’t going to keep us from getting caught.” Raven is wiping her moist chin as she slips the shoulder strap of her duffel bag over her arm.
There’s only so much a guy can take. I mean, this stuff is like poison, and, sometimes, you’ve just got to get it out.
Simon leaves his post manning the scary looking wall of spy cams and monitors and jumps up to join us. I don’t know if it’s some type of guy radar, but he instinctively glances down at my groin.
“Raven, we can wait another minute or two. I’ve got to make sure I can get the blueprint layouts downloaded for the gig.” Simon steps forward to block my raging hard-on from her.